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bullet-prooflove · 22 days

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The Farm: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion Piece to:

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

Carmy loves spending days at the farm, he loves walking through the fields, his fingertips skating over the fresh produce that you’ve been cultivating. He loves the vibrance in the colours. The depths of the green, the brilliance of the red, the pops of yellow. He loves all of it, each and every fucking thing.

More than anything he adores the flavours. The rich burst of texture on his tongue as he bites into a blueberry he’s picked fresh from the bushel, the crispness of a ripe tomato he’s plucked from the vine, the crunch of lettuce between his teeth as the taste floods his senses.

Being here inspires him, it has from the moment he’d stumbled onto the eight acre property in search of somewhere to get fresh produce at a decent rate. You’d found him, sitting cross legged in the middle of one of your fields, sketching out a new idea when you sat down next to him, thinking he was a member of the homeless community.

“I can make you a bag up if you want.” You’d said softly. “I know how hard it can be to get fresh stuff when you’re sleeping rough.”

He turned his head towards you then, his brows furrowing into a frown.

“I’m not homeless…” He’d said looking down at himself in a ratty white t-shirt and sneakers that have seen much better days. “Fuck, do I look homeless?”

“You kinda do.” You agree before you take his hand in yours and drop a couple of blueberries onto his palm. He pops one into his mouth and he swears he’s never tasted anything as good as that single piece of fruit. “It’s all organic, free from GMOs…”

“You can taste it.” He says, eating other blueberry and then another.

You give him some of the overstock to take home with him that night. Some strawberries and raspberries, along with the leafy greens you’ve been growing. He stares at the colours, using the small artist’s set Luca gave him before he left New York to capture their essence as he designs dishes around their flavour palette.

The next time you see him, he’s tossed out the white t-shirt and the sneakers. He’s wearing a soft grey sweater and a pair of jeans Mikey left him instead. His hair is freshly washed and he’s used a little of that moisturiser that Sugar’s been trying to shove down his throat for the past couple of months. He feels better than he has in years and he thinks it’s because of the fruit. He’s been stagnant since coming to Chicago, focusing on keeping his head above water. There hasn’t been time to relax, to take joy in the things around him.

“That’s really sad.” You tell him as you sit beside him once again in what becomes his favourite field. “That you lost your joy.”

“I don’t think that I ever had any to begin with.” He tells you as he stares out across the plush greenery. “I don’t think I feel things the way that other people do, everything feels muted, it has for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly.

And he shrugs his shoulders because at this point he doesn’t know any different. It started back in New York under the tuition of David Fields. The constant barrage of abuse he suffered, it fractured something deep inside of him. His self-esteem had withered away with under every comment until there was nothing left but this trembling mess.

“Do you worry you’ll never get it back?” You ask him, studying the profile of his face.

“I did.” He tells you before he tilts his head to look at you. His vibrant blue eyes capture yours and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a colour as beautiful as that. “But then I came here and it’s like something inside me just woke up. I’m starting to feel things again, so yea that’s what’s happening right now.”

“I’m glad the farm could help you like that.” You say sincerely.

“I’m guessing the farm helps a lot of people like that.” He says, gesturing to some of the folks out harvesting in the field. “I looked you up, read about some of the mental health programs you run. You’ve got a good rep.”

“Do what you can, for who you can, where you can, am I right?” You say and he thinks that’s one hell of a philosophy to live by in your day to day.

He considers that now as he watches you in the field. You’re wearing yellow wellies over black leggings because it’s potato season and you always get a little muddy. You have his baseball cap turned backwards on your head, your hair spilling out underneath.

It’s in that moment he realises just how truly happy he is, how happy he’s been over the past year and he knows that’s because of this place, because of you.

You’re surprised a couple of minutes later when his arms wrap around your waist. He buries his face into the crook of your neck inhaling the scent of earth that clings to your skin as he draws you back into the shelter of his firm chest.

“What’s up Bear?” You ask as he snuggles in close, his lips ghosting over skin.

“Nothing.” He whispers. “I just fucking love you.”

“That’s good baby…” You smile as you tilt your head towards him. “Because I fucking love you too.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto imagine

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paper-mario-wiki · 5 months

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i have been struggling to find it, you seem like you might know tho.

i think you may have reblogged it or maybe you've seen it but it's an actor redoing a photoshoot of an older actor wearing like a really thick and soft looking sweater and the modern photo's sweater is just depressingly thin and lame? do you know of any avenues I could use to look for one of those really thick soft knit sweaters?

you seem to be good at finding 'vintage' or otherwise good clothes so have you seen anything like this in your travels thank u

i think ive seen that, let me look it up for you.

i remember the specific context of the discourse around that post was highlighting the difference in quality between a genuine Aran sweater (super fancy special expensive irish heirloom knitting technique, thats as best as i can summarize off the top of my head), and a fast fashion sweater made of cheap bullshit materials warn by a stupid dumb- sorry i started thinking about how shit the modern fashion industry is my insults started pouring onto the dude in the picture whose name escapes me. i remember hes from parks and rec so i'll look up the IMDb for it. i dont remember his name but i remember his face and his bit. he was the really energetic neuvo-yuppy freak who was always doing weird fashion stuff, or so ive gathered from my limited knowledge of that show.

ben shwartz! so if i look up "ben shwartz aran sweater"

here ya go!

actually looking at him he is kind of a doofus in that rinky dink thin ass bullshit nothing sweater. i dont think he IS one but he looks like one here, i feel.

anyway, this has been the process of finding that thing you wanted. thanks for stopping by.

oh wait i just reread the question, u were looking for how to buy old vintage stuff. uhhh ebay, vestiaire collective, and uhh. i mean if you'd be willing to just buy from an actual aran sweater company, which would be similarly spendy to buy a genuine vintage one in good condition, you can buy one made of recycled wool from an irish knittery called Sheep Inc, who display the carbon offset each individual product they produce creates.

they could be secretly evil, i dont know because this is all information ive had to dust off from the back of my mind.

anyways, i hope that you have found something similar to what you were looking for.

#ask

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girlyteeth · 11 months

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Let's Talk About Girly-Kei Substyle Names!

Since this style has been gaining some popularity in j-fashion communities, I wanted to do a small lesson on how to refer to different styles of girly-kei. I've noticed some strange names being assigned to this style, and I want to clear up any misunderstandings people may have about these terms.

There are many labels people put on this fashion style, but for some reason it's anything but girly. It's understandable how some terms could be mistaken for the name of the fashion, especially since some stereotypes associated with these styles have heavily contributed to the wrong terminology being used. Examples of terms that have been associated with girly-kei are... Ryousangata: (meaning a "mass-produced" type of person, who's heavily involved in wota culture) J*rai-kei: (a stereotype referring to an emotionally unstable person who "explodes like a landmine".) Subcul: (It used to have the meaning of "poser" in Japan, but nowadays it is used to refer to any type of alternative fashion. While this one is more harmless, it doesn't do any good to refer to a style that already has a name as just "subcul fashion")

In the girly-kei community, we label these colour combos a bit similarly to lolita substyles. So, let's name some some girly styles that have been getting popular! Sweet Girly: This style consists of sweeter elements, such as ruffles, bows, hearts, and cute prints. Sometimes, you can find sweet girly sweaters with plushie embroidery! Bijou details are also popular with this style, as the jewels seem to compliment the overall cuteness of these outfits!

Dark Girly: This style focuses on more darker/edgier elements, and these outfits seem to have a more gothic look to it. Characteristics such as chains, leather, and religious imagery can be found in this substyle. Despite the name of this substyle, the clothes don't need to have a dark colour palette. Just as long as they fit the criteria!

French Girly: This style is meant to resemble a more European style of fashion! This elegant style also maintains a sense of simplicity, as their silhouettes and designs tend to be neat. As you can see, berets are especially popular in this substyle, but other accessories such as pearls, gold jewelry, and hairbands are also used in these outfits.

I find that among girly discourse, some argue that "girly-kei" is way too broad of a term, but that's where you can have fun with your outfits! It's not a requirement to specifically adhere to a certain substyle when wearing girly-kei fashion, and honestly just wear what makes you happy! A lot of these substyles can overlap as a result, which can create pretty cool outfits!

Referring to these substyles by their proper name not only sounds nicer, but it can help erase stigma around wearing girly fashion as a whole.

If you wish to read about more substyles such as otona girly, retro girly, himekaji (yes, even the gyaru substyle can be considered girly!) and casual girly, there is a more detailed list of all the different substyles in their aesthetics section! Thank you for reading <3

#girly kei #terminology lesson #sweet girly #dark girly #the graphic was very fun to make and maybe I'll start making these types of illustrations more :)#girly discourse #retro girly #french girly #girly fashion #me posting after 100000 years

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grison-in-space · 5 months

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Man, there is a huge bias in the way that hobby fibercrafters approach and think about textiles—and I say that as a hobby fibercrafter myself! See, weaving has a high barrier to entry relative to knitting, crochet, spinning—even embroidery or sewing, these days, as the sewing machine automated much of the tedium of the craft. All of those crafts require a lot less in terms of startup costs to the hobby crafter than the machinery of a loom does.

But... look, if you want to understand mass produced textiles or textiles in any historical context, you have to understand weaving. If you want to understand how most of the cloth that people wear is made, you have to understand weaving, because weaving is the oldest art for mass producing cloth that can then be turned into garments.

Spinning is also very important, of course. Spinning is how you get the thread that you can turn into cloth any number of ways. Historically speaking, though, the most common way that thread or yarn becomes cloth is inarguably weaving. More to the point, weaving is also a historical center of industry and labor organizing. Ironically enough for the argument about how no one asked a woman, the industrialization of weaving is actually an interesting early case example of men organizing to push women out of a newly profitable position.

Besides that, knitting and crocheting in particular are incredibly modern crafts. Most modern knitting as we would understand the craft is shaped by the inventions of Elizabeth Zimmerman, and even things like the circular knitting needle date back only to the past century. Historically speaking, the great innovation of knitting as a tool for fiber craft is the ability to construct garments for small, odd shapes that can stretch and grip: stockings, gloves, underwear. Even that great innovation, the knit sweater, is an artifact of the 1850s—and the familiar cable knit sweaters of the Aran Isles are even newer than that. Crochet is even younger: the entire craft originated in the 1820s as far as anyone can document.

None of that is any shade on anyone. Like I said, I knit; that's the locus of my personal interest in textiles. I just think that textile history is neat, but if you're going to make big pronouncements about the historical development of textiles, it's important to think about what changed about the technology of textile production in the most common ways of turning raw fiber into cloth—and you cannot stop at the level of understanding how to make thread or yarn, because the properties of the cloth are always going to be an artifact of the construction of the cloth.

That's technology, baby! It's literally weavecraft. But it's not obvious that weaving is missing from the bounds of a person's experience with textile manipulation until and unless they're trying to understand and work with a wide range of fabric types—and when you can quite reasonably go from raw fiber to a finished garment using modern popular craft techniques that don't rely on anything that appears difficult for a medieval craftsman to make, it's easy to forget the role of weaving in the creation of cloth as a finished product.

I suppose the point I am making is: think deeply about what your own areas of expertise are not bringing to your understanding of history. It's easier to miss things you'd think.

#textiles #fabric #fibercraft #history #technology

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sanakimohara · 3 months

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can u do emo han Jisung x hello kitty person reader if it's okay??? (make Jisung Dom cuz, never seen someone make him🤷)

“SWEET N’ SOUR” H. J. Pt. 1

Pen has returned to paper. Hope this fulfills your wish, my love…

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [SMUT ] + [ ORAL ] + [ NO PLOT ] + [ DUB CON / VIOLENCE ….ig?… ] + [ SLIGHT BREATH DEPRIVATION ] + [HUMILIATION / DEGRADATION ]

Jisung is slightly perplexed by how soft you are for him from the start. You're gentle, always curious, and slightly touched in the head. He can't tell if you mean to come off so nostalgic and innocent, second-guessing his assumptions about you anytime; a semi-violent threat towards another person trying to gain his attention leaves your cherry-glossed lips. You can be all giggly, obsessed with your stuffed animals, and snuggled all under him in one moment. Then, the next, you're glaring stubbornly, subtly clinging to him when someone you don't particularly care for is near or snapping back at him when he touches a nerve. It gives the poor man whiplash, but it fills his head with a particular strain of serotonin no one but you can produce.

Jisung is anything but frightened by your love for softer colors and little trinkets. He could tell you had a minor addiction to “cute” things early on, rather fond of seeing you bounce up and down on your tip toes when a new Sanrio item caught your attention and quickly getting used to purchasing it without you having to ask. Almost every little thing he bought for you furthered the addiction he had to see you all dolled up and content with adorable trinkets. There were times when a subtle perversion entered his mind. On more than a few occasions, he’d bought you things solely because his cock hardened seeing you so excited to have them. Other times, his selfish desire to see you walking around in nothing but the new Hello Kitty panties and matching cropped sweater drove him to order another box of pastel-colored items.

Jisung often doesn’t know how to handle himself when you simultaneously act so stubbornly and sweetly to him. You’re asking him to be mean to you more often than not, and he gives in without hesitation. “You can’t tell me what to do!” You huff loudly, upset that he’s walked into your room and shut your laptop, completely interrupting your binge-watching session. He smiles, snatching it from your tight grip before kneeling at the foot of your bed to be at eye level. You glare, moving to scoot away from him and get your computer back. It's not every day your favorite anime puts out a new season, and his intruding isn’t deterring you from watching the whole thing in one night. Or so you think…

Jisung has other plans for you both. You don’t have the chance to slide back from him, held in place by his right hand, which you initially thought was intended to caress your cheek but was instead fisted in your hair at the back of your head. He pulls roughly once, forcing your head to follow his grip as you yelp and claw at the pink duvet underneath you. “Thought I told you to start going to bed at a decent time, kitten. Why lie and say you were asleep when I called you earlier?” He tugs again, not ashamed to smile as tears well up in your pretty doe eyes, begging to slide down your face when you wince slightly from the pain he causes. “It was just for tonight, I swear! I…I just wanted to see it..” You squirm more, embarrassed that he caught you in a lie and frightened by the dead stare he’s been giving you. “Not a good enough answer, sweetheart. Why’d you lie..?”

Jisung is a liar, a convenient one in his own right, and you always fall for it. No matter how often you tell him the truth, he taunts you for a better excuse, feeling so much more authoritative in the confines of your cozy bedroom. In that little world between you both, he is, in fact, your villain, dark and cunning in the glow of soft fairy lights hanging from pastel-pink walls. Rough and demented with your gentler presence. You don’t mind being stiffly handled by him, putting up a small fight when he stands to flip you over on your back. He gives you a chance to win when you do struggle. His hand remains tangled in your hair, pulling the soft locks until your head lazily hangs off the edge of the bed and not letting go even when you reach to try pushing him away. “Jisung- ah! Mngh-“Your begging is reduced to a timid whimper as his free hand whips across your face. The oddly swift strike makes your body shiver, and a cold spark runs down your spine as he stares at you. “You had your chance to speak. Useless as it is, I think it’s pretty cute that you have so much to say. Why don't we fix that, hm?…” Your hands tremble as he grasps them in his free one, pushing them down to rest together on your lower stomach. The pit of your abdomen flips itself, feeling his touch tighten on you, amping up in frequency when he smirks at the sight of your new pastel pink panties hugging your hips and covering your soft mound.

Jisung is tempted to slip his hand past the thin fabric, wanting to feel your warm folds in his palm, craving to spread the slickness he knows is pooling between your legs all over his fingers. He takes a breath, reigning in the desire and focusing on what to do about your oh-so-snappy mouth. He has more than a few ideas visibly running through his mind, and they are all broadly humiliating to you. You keep your mouth shut, your heart thundering, and your body running hotter with each passing second. When Jisung stops talking, everyone is at an unease. Especially you. It only meant he was plotting to do something strangely frightful. Sadistic even.

“Open” is the first word he utters after a long, silent moment. His hand in your hair disappears for a split second, a familiar sound of a zipper being undone and a shift of clothing rearranging before his hold on your hair returns. Through the tears in your eyes, you get a view of the tip of his cock, swelling with pre cum, stiff and fully erect with purpose. You gulp, lashes lowering as drool pools in your mouth. It takes only one look at his cock to make you dumbfounded with lust. It's an automatic reaction he’s trained into you for months and one you sincerely enjoy. Not a single thought runs through your mind seeing his cum drizzle down the length of his cock, the creamy substance reminding you of sweet cream and urging you to obey his singular command for a good taste of it. “Mkay..” you mumble, in a daze as your lips part, and slipping deeper into it when he slowly sinks his cock in the warm wet cavern inch by inch with ease. Jisung watches intently as you take him in with a soft gasp, gagging slightly when his tip brushes the back of your throat. “See? You just wanted something good to suck on, kitten… feels good to be useful, doesn’t it?” He groans loudly, smiling wildly as you swallow him whole, accepting his cock with sloppy slurps and trying your best to breathe while he fucks your face at a set pace. You jolt and shift as he uses you relentlessly, spitting up a mix of saliva and his arousal with every other thrust he gives, but not once tapping out in hopes of him being lenient with you. Jisung refuses, mouth falling open to let out convoluted moans and pleased grunts of praise. “Take it deeper, sweetheart.. oh fuck, just like that..”

Jisung trees carefully with your newfound talent, proud to see you helplessly deep-throating his cock, enjoying the tightness of your throat whenever you gag reactively. He watches the imprint of his cock mold your throat, involuntarily twitching when he glimpses the blush on your cheeks and the way your eyes slot in the back of your head. You can’t bring yourself to beg for air, dizzy from the force of his thrusts and in love with the taste of him. Your body relaxes, your core blooms with need, and your head rapidly empties of thoughts. Jisung’s skin glistens with sweat, barely visible from his shirt, trickling down his temple the closer he gets to his high. The hand in your hair loosens, gently gripping the nape of your neck as he snaps his hips into your face faster, chasing his climax with a grave groan rattling his chest. “Gonna cum…”

Jisung takes a glance at your trembling legs, peering down between them to see your cum leaking past the Hello Kitty patterned underwear. Your hips raised for a sense of friction, desperate to have your cunt touched, “Someone’s ready to be stuffed full… gettin’ desperate so soon is pathetic, but you can’t help it, can you?…” “Mmm ngh-“ You choke, eyes sliding shut completely as he thrusts into your mouth one last time, keeping his cock deep in your throat until the last drop of cum slides down it. You swallow once, a lewd gulping noise hitting his ears and sending a shiver up his spine. Your chest heaves with air when he slowly pulls away, thick strings of cum and saliva connecting your glossed lips with the tip of his cock. “Well done,” he mumbles, breathless and trying to catch it quicker than you.

Jisung succeeds, moving faster than you, quickly slipping onto the bed before dragging you to lay under him. Your stomach flips when he touches your bare skin, tracing the dip of your hips, carefully avoiding your clothed cunt until you whine loudly and trap his hand between your thighs. You glare at him, wanting your way now but too spent to voice it properly. He smiles, a gummy, cute expression that doesn’t match the harsh way his hands pry your legs apart. “You’re being a real pain today..” he mutters in one breath, enjoying your defiance to a point, “Maybe I shouldn’t fuck you at all. I think you’ll learn to be a little nicer…”

You gulp, eyes softening immediately, “I’ll good…I promise.” A sultry gasp flies from your lips, brought on by Jisung’s hands groping the fat of your thighs, spreading them for a better view of the space between them. He ignores your promise, eyeing the glistening patch of wetness seeping through the soft fabric of your underwear. You watch him stare, face burning with sparks of shame running through you, turning into rivets of pleasure when he rubs his thumb over clit gently for a moment. The tight circles he makes on the sensitive nerves have your back arching and your hands raised to grip his forearms. Jisung chuckles lowly, glancing up to glimpse the look on your face, and he’s far from disappointed seeing the lost look in your eyes. “Didn’t I just buy these for you, lil one? I could’ve sworn..” he pauses, watching your mouth fall open with a high-pitched wail, brows furrowing in slight disbelief as his thumb migrates down to your entrance, pushing into it through the fabric. It’s an odd feeling, being finger fucked with your panties, but he makes it somewhat intoxicating. The thought of ruining something he recently gifted you made your head spin with embarrassment, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it.

“…you promised not to ruin them. Now, look at you, making a mess of yourself, doing exactly the opposite.” Jisung switched to fucking you with his index and pointer fingers, smirking when you tightened down on them and involuntarily soaked through the pink cotton completely. “Did…didn’t mean to…” you ramble while whining, writhing underneath him to keep from instinctively locking his hand between your legs again. He helps you settle down, absentmindedly pressing his free hand down on your left thigh, effectively keeping you open for him. “Little liar,” he muses into your ear, biting it gently as his fingers curl inside to hit a particular spot in your warm walls. Your eyes slide shut, listening to the sound of rushed breathing, wet fabric being forced into your cunt filling the room.

Y'all, I feel a new hyper fixation coming on…ive already made another tumblr account for it...

[ BONUS CONTENT +]

You know, moaning his name might be the answer to all of your problems…;) Credits to creator 🖤

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jammysworks · 1 year

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im just thinking about like having a really rough day and coming home to conrad and you’re just tired and you want to feel good and he’s such a sweetheart when it comes to you that he doesn’t tease you like normal, he just eats you out and fucks you and then holds you once you’re in that pleasure-induced haze until you fall asleep

this is such a cute idea. the second i read it i knew it needed to be done! 💗

smut after the cut

18+ MDNI

warnings: connie being a little sweetheart to reader, oral (fem receiving), lots of aftercare <3, p in v, sweet sex, dacryphilia, overstimulation, praise, pet names (baby, good girl, )

word count: 0.5k

your day was terrible. first, you got in an argument with your mom because you woke up later than usual. then, your boss got mad at you for being late even though it was your moms fault for holding you back at the house. the only thing you wanted was to be in conrad’s arms. so, the second you got home you went straight to him. diving your head into his chest. “what’s wrong, baby?” he hated when you had bad days but he always knew that he could fix it. “bad day…i just wanna feel good.” you whine while looking at him with half lidded “fuck me” eyes.

and that’s how you ended up here, with conrad’s face smushed against your pussy and licking up everything you gave him. his tongue licking a strip up your hole and sucking your clit. moans and whimpers becoming the constant aftermath of his ministrations. “thank—ah!—thank you, connie!” you hiccuped aloud as he continued what he was doing; his tongue darting into you and grazing against your walls, while his fingers drew circles on your hip bones and played with your nipples.

“i’m gonna cum” the sentence babbling out like the rest as you raked your nails through conrad’s hair, scratching against his scalp inflicting a groan to erupt from him. the vibrations being your main reason of the knot undoing in your lower abdomen, juices flowing out of your quivering hole. “that’s it..good girl.” he stood from between your legs with one last kiss against your bud, pulling his shirt and sweatpants off leaving him in his boxers. his noticeable bulge twitching from beneath the fabric. out of an act of muscle memory your hands reached for his boxers, pulling them down his thighs. “no, not today. you can give me a blowjob another day this is about you.” he said reaching to pull your hands away from his.

his hips slowly grinding against yours while you whined and moaned his name like a mantra; tears of sweet pleasure dripping down your cheeks. the tip of his dick coming close to slipping out when he pushed himself back into you again. repeating the action over and over until he heard you moan out a silent, “please..faster!” with a simple kiss to the forehead he began pounding into you, hands gently grasping your sides as he pulled you back against him. cries and whines releasing from your mouth, your smaller hands grasping onto his biceps as he lifted your legs up and placed them on his shoulders, seeming to get deeper into your pussy. the pleasurable haze you slipped into becoming more promenaient as your orgasm began to creep closer with each thrust. more slick being produced and leaking down his cock as you melted into the feeling. “go ahead baby, cum for me.” conrad groaned into your ear, the action prompting you to cream on him, the liquid dripping down and coating his thighs.

his own relief pouncing at him shortly after your own, causing his hips to move in a sloppier pattern. the sticky liquid filling up your walls, a warm feeling seeping through your stomach as he pulled out and pushed any residue back into your hole.

bending forward, he placed a meaningful kiss onto your lips and pulled away to reach for clothes for both you and him. his hands finding placement on one of his sweaters and a pair of your panties you left, tossing the clothes onto the bed while he dressed himself into a pair of his boxers. after finishing, he sat on the edge of his mattress to put the clothes on you. slipping under the covers next to you cuddling up close with your warm body as you drifted off into sleep from the exhausting haze he left you in.

this took way longer than it should have i’m sorry but i hope this is ok <3

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher smut #conrad x reader #conrad #x fem!reader #tsitp x reader #tsitp smut #tsitp s2 #tsitp conrad #the summer i turned pretty #tw smut #tw overstimulation #tw praise kink #team conrad #conrad smut

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lostbookmark · 1 month

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MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: After four years your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive?

Pairing: Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader.

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance.

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name, baby.

A/N: Updating a day early. I almost have the story completed.

One more week before another smutty chapter. This is just pure plot again.

Is ginger haired Yoongi his own warning?

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He lied. He promised that he would call you every day and he lied. You spent the two days leading up to him leaving, together. You found out just how good of a cook he was and how bad you were compared to him. He tried explaining the art of producing and writing a song. You'll admit that one went over your head, but he seemed excited to talk to you about it. You jokingly asked him to write a song for you. He smirked, and with a kiss, he said he would. The first day he was gone, he did call like he said he would. The second day was a couple of texts. Third day, he left you on read, then the fourth…delivered. It's been two weeks now. Not one week but two. Fourteen days, a fortnight.

“Jimin says that when they work, sometimes they stay up for days at a time. He probably crashed at the hotel to catch up on sleep,” Lisa tried to reason.

“You really think he would ignore you?” Jisoo asks you as she pays for her coffee. You don't know how to answer that. You wanted to be able to say, of course, he wouldn't, but you can't. You honestly can't.

“You know he wouldn….” Lisa trails off as you three leave the coffee shop. You follow her line of sight to see who she is staring at. You squint your eyes a little harder. “Is that him?” She asks, pointing her finger at a couple on the sidewalk.

“Is his hair…red?” Jisoo questioned. “Orange?”

The three of you move a bit closer but stay hidden behind some cars to get a closer look. It was, she was right. Yoongi was here and he was right across the street. He was home and he didn't tell you. You watch him across the street talking to someone. A woman, a pretty blonde woman with long hair. She was taller than you, about his height. He wouldn't need to bend as much to her like he does with you. You can't hear them but whatever she said has him laughing. His gummy smile is on display, full and bright. She reaches up and gently rubs his arm over his green jacket and he doesn't push her away, he is familiar with her. He looks at her fondly as he nods his head at whatever she's saying. Is that how he looked at you? You watch as he opens a door to the building they stood in front of and they walk inside together. You can feel your heart shatter as if someone stabbed it with a sharp knife. You can actually feel it crack into a million pieces and fall to your stomach. Sharp pieces like glass shards, obliterating your insides. Your eyes don't leave the door they went through. You can't see through the intricate stained glass windows no matter how much you tried.

“I'm sure it's not what it seems,” Jisoo tells you.

“Bull fucking shit,” Lisa exclaims. “I'm going to beat his ass.”

“Lisa,” Jisoo hisses.

“What?” Lisa exclaims. “He left her hanging for over a week, and he's literally right there. She should have been his first stop.”

“No,” you hiccup. Dammit you're crying. You wipe your eyes on your sweater. The fabric is itchy and makes the wet skin of your cheeks feel irritated. Your eyes still don't stray from the door. You hope and pray with everything you have that he walks back out. Please walk back out, you beg. You hold your breath…please? He doesn't. “I'm just going to go.”

“Let us come with you,” Jisoo suggests. You just shake your head. She sighs and opens her arms for you.“I'll keep her in line,” she whispered as she pulled you into a hug.

You ran to your car, slamming the door as you got in. You had let the tears flow freely then. You try to hide your face from the people that pass by as you rest your head on the steering wheel. How dare he. After everything he put you through with Kai. Kai didn't even touch you. You were barely a participant in the conversion. You shouldn't have gone home with him that night. You should have kept it as a one-time thing. Let it be a lapse in judgment, a meaningless fling. You could have blamed the drinking. No one would have to know you were stone cold sober. Yoongi made your expectations high. He made you feel warm and see colors for the first time in a long time outside of your friends. He broke you.

When you got home, you threw on an oversized shirt and got into bed. Cocooning yourself in your plush blankets, you try to seek comfort and warmth. It wasn't helping. It was only 5 pm, and you had nothing to do and no one to distract you. Time on your hands leads to overthinking. Overthinking can lead you to bad decisions. You don't want to think right now.You looked at the messages you had sent him. Delivered. He never opened them. You sent them days ago, but he still hasn't opened them. You were so stupid. He fooled you. Were you a pawn in a game for him to get back at your sister? Your phone chimed, and your heart stopped. Please, please , you whisper into the still, quiet room. It's not him. It's Lisa.

“Did you make it home? I didn't do anything, I swear. I won't tell Jimin . Promise.”

“I made it, thank you.”

Your chest hurts. A heavy weight just sitting there where your heart used to be. It's suffocating, holding you down. It's wanting to drown you, and you can't make it back to the surface. You place your hands where the weight is. Thump, thump thump, it's still beating….your heart. It's still there, and it's pumping. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes. You concentrate on the rhythmic beating. Maybe your sister was right. Maybe Yoongi was a loser. He promised you…promised! He said he would take care of everything, and now he just broke it all apart. He ripped it all up into tiny red shreds and dropped them off the highest cliff he could find. He was probably laughing as he did it. Your tears start leaking out of your eyes again. Focus, focus on the rhythm. You close your eyes. Thump, thump, thump. Your phone chimes again.

Jimin said that the guys got in last night. I swear I brought it up casually. I didn't mention what we saw. Lisa tells you, and you choke on sob. This makes you feel worse. That means he had all day that he could have talked to you.

Thanks. Let Jisoo know I'm turning my phone off for a while.

I will. I love you, sweets.

Me, too, you reply and power down your phone.

He didn't want to see you. He has made that clear. All you needed was one call, one message. You just needed him to tell you that he had arrived. If he needed time alone, that was fine. He should have just told you. He's such a hypocrite. Telling you how you needed to talk to him and he's straight up ignores you too. The thing is, you never lied. Yes, you may run and shut down, but you never lied. Screw this, you think, and you turn your phone back on after a few minutes. You immediately open your messages.

“I know your home. I hope you're having fun with her.”

You let out a loud breath. You delete the message and get out of bed. Padding to the living room, you try to lie down there. The weight is still in your chest. It's so quiet, and the thoughts are so loud in your head. You want him here eating your favorite chicken, and you'll make sure there's extra rolls. You'll even let him pick a movie to watch even if you don't like it. You stare up at your clock. The second hand seems to be moving extra slow today. It hardly makes any noise, though. A small, quiet ticking noise reminiscent of his metronome. You don't want to hear it. Your memories make the agony hurt more.

“Did you stay the night with her?” You stare at it for a minute. “Did she go on your trip with you?” Delete. “Are you sleeping with her? That's fine, I'm with Kai right now.” You press delete. “I miss you.” Delete.

You should eat. Your stomach growls, angry with hunger. Your kitchen seems so far away, and you know there’s not much in there. You don't want to eat anyway. Getting up from the couch, you make your way back to your bedroom. Turning on your TV, you leave it on the first thing that comes on. You don't know what it is, but it makes the deafening silence better. You close your eyes, and you're still drowning. Waves of sadness and hurt lapping against your soul. Your body starts to relax. You give in and let the waves take you away.

Your eyes pop open. Immediately, they land on your alarm clock. The red glare is blurry, and you can't quite make out the numbers. Blinking away your sleep, you see it reads 8:30 pm. You had been out for about three hours. Your head swivels to your hallway when you hear a sound. There's a knocking at your door. Who the hell would come to your place this late? Picking your phone up, you see 6 missed texts and 4 calls from Yoongi. You refuse to open them. Absolutely not. You will not give him the satisfaction. Your phone chimes. You look down at your lock screen. Are you....was the only thing you could read from the push notification. Am I what? You ask yourself. Angry? Yes. Sad? Yes. Scared? Yes. The knocking seems to have stopped. You know it was him, but yet you didn't win anything for making him reach out to you first. Your phone chimes. I'm sorry. You laugh to yourself….sure.

The next morning was quiet, and you were tired. Lisa didn't come to work today. She had texted that Jimin had surprised her with a day trip. A couples spa thing. You were happy that she finally found someone who liked the same things she did and actually took care of her. She called in with the flu, and after that, you decided to turn your phone off. You look at Seungkwan, and he looks happy that he gets to work in peace for once. Everynow and then you can hear him sing to himself. It makes you smile. He has a nice voice. You actually managed to get a lot of work done, and Seungkwan seemed more than happy to help you when you needed it. You were wrong about him. He always seemed intimidating, but he's sweet. Admittedly, you knew that Lisa being gone helped. She didn't distract you with office gossip or the retelling of her dates. You didn't have to talk about Yoongi. You feel bad, but you almost want to say you like it this way.

5 o'clock on the dot you clock out. You wrap your sweater around you tight and throw your bag over your shoulder. It's colder and the daylight shorter. You can almost smell winter coming in the air. The crisp, clean smell of cold air and snow isn't too far now. It will probably come early. You should probably grab a warmer jacket tomorrow. Stepping out of the building you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing there, waiting for you. The new orange…ginger hair on display. He's wearing the same green jacket from yesterday, you bet it smells like her. He smiles when you see him. A true honest, smile lights up his face. You…you just stare. A blank stare that held no emotion. His smile drops a little before he quickly recovers and approaches you.

“I went over to your place last night,” he said. So, it was him. “Were you asleep? You didn't answer my messages. I was getting worried.” You visibly scoffed at that and your eyes flicker back to his hair. “Yeah,” he said, reaching up and running his hand through it. “Joon, he talked me into it. Do you like it?”

“You ignored my messages,” you said quietly, not answering his question. He sighs and tries to take your hand, but you pull away and shake your head. You don't want him to touch you, not after her. Did she make him happy? Did he come over to your place right after leaving hers? “Two weeks?” You question.

“Baby, can we talk about this privately. Let's go to my place,” he suggests, but you shake your head no. You'll give in there, you know it. “Can we at least sit in my car? Baby, you’re shivering.” You nod in agreement after a moment of hesitation and walk to his car. You rub your hands together as the wind bites at them. Yoongi tries to reach for you to warm them up for you. You don't let him. Instead, you jam them into your thin sweater, although it didn't do any good. Getting in the car, he turns the heat up and points all the vents to you. “I know I said a week when I left, but the group we had a meeting with. They needed an album quickly. There were lawsuits involved and everything. I didn't even have time to eat or sleep. Namjoon took my phone away at one point. I couldn't make him mad.”

You don't know what to say to that. You feel him stare at you and he's fidgeting in his seat. His hands keep checking the air blowing out of the vents. Making sure it's warm enough for you. He's probably just nervous and needs something to do.

“Did Namjoon sign them?” you asked.

“Yeah, he did,” Yoongi confirms and you nod your head silently. “There's a lot of lawyers and paperwork involved but yeah, he did.”

You look out the windshield. The trees that lined the street have long lost their green leaves. The leaves now have fallen to the ground as they turn into their beautiful fall hues of yellow and orange, crunching when people walk on them through town holding their warm coffees and other pumpkin spiced drinks. You watch as they swirl off the ground as the breeze picks them up, and they dance along the road as they pass by. You sigh. The sun is already starting to set.

“Baby?” he asks, trying to get you to look at him. “Y/N?”

“I saw you.” you tell him. You surprise yourself with the lack of emotion in your voice.

“Where? What are you talking about?” he inquires.

“Yesterday,” you answer, as a singular leaf twirls across the window. “We were getting coffee. We saw you with some woman. She was pretty. You looked happy. Lisa told me you guys landed the day before that.”

“That was…” he started but you didn't let him finish.

“No, you waited…what 24 hours after being home to get a hold of me?” you asked. “Seeing those messages not even opened. Then seeing you with her,” you shook your head. You are tired, so very tired. “I get it.”

“Will you let me explain?” he begs. You want to, you really do, but you're still too hurt. The wound is still raw and gaping. You're still trying to make it to the surface. Did he cheat on your sister, too?

“My bus will be here soon. I need to go,” you tell him and you put your hand on the door handle. He throws himself over you to stop you from opening the door. “Yoongi!”

“Let me take you home. I won't say anything. I won't try to come in. Baby, please just let me take you home?” you see something in his eyes that you can't decipher. Is he scared? Is he scared like you were? Good. You nod your head silently.

You lay awake in your bed. You couldn't sleep and you have been trying for hours. Tossing and turning, you kept getting tangled up in your blankets. Yoongi stuck to his word and just dropped you off. He didn't say anything on the drive home. He just kept stealing glances at you and you…you kept your eyes as straight as possible. It looked like he wanted to say something to you but you bolted from the car before he could put it fully into park. You regret it now. You wish you would have let him explain who she was. It's messing with your mind. All the scenarios you can think of that could have happened are driving you crazy. You look at the clock. 11:30pm. You're going to take a chance. You need to have a clear mind. You pick up your phone and call Yoongi. Thankfully, he picks up.

“Baby, is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked. His voice is worried. Perfect.

“Can you come over?” you ask.

“On my way,” he says and hangs up.

Getting out of bed, your hair is a mess. You try to finger comb it, but you have to give up as the knotting gets worse and throw it up on the top of your head. Little pieces are standing up everywhere…oh well. You think about changing your clothes as you look through your closet but honestly, you think that would seem desperate. You are, though …desperate. Wanting his answers, hugs, kisses. You wanted him to hold you so you could sleep. Hell, he didn't even need to hold you. He just needed to be next to you. You go to sit down on your couch to wait for him. No sooner did your butt meet the cushion. There was a knock at the door. Taking a deep breath, you get up and walk to the door. Opening the door, Yoongi smiles at you, an unsure, nervous smile. You move to the side without a word to let him pass through the doorway. It's then you notice that he has two large bags with him.

“I'm happy you called,” he said softly. You gesture him into the living room, and you sit across from each other. You on the old pea colored couch with frayed threads, him on the oversized chair. He looks so small sitting there alone. You studied him sitting there. Really studied him. Yoongi looked just as tired as you felt.

“I…I'm ready for you to explain,” you tell him. You rub the palms of your hands on your knees nervously. You take a deep breath and brace yourself for the worse.

“She's an old friend from college. She dated my friend Jooheon,” he explains. “She’s an art dealer that travels all over the place. I texted her about art supplies. If she knew what the best ones were. She said she did and she could probably get anything I wanted. I was supposed to meet her Saturday but after I showered and changed…I fell asleep so we met on Sunday instead. I tried calling you but you didn’t answer. So, I ended up coming over….I,” he sighed and looked at his hands. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

He wasn't a liar or a cheat. You study his face, and he looks defeated, like his world is about to crumble. You know how that feels. Your hands cover your face as you break out in sobs. You were a fool for believing the worst in him. The couch dips, and Yoongi takes you in his arms. His movement seems cautious. He pulls you as close as he can get you. It only makes you cry harder. That feeling of drowning, the weight in your chest, it was because of you and not him. It was because you couldn't trust him enough. You feel like an awful person, sister, and partner.

“I'm sorry,” you cry. Yoongi grabs your face and makes you look at him. His hands were warm, and it was a welcoming feeling on your skin. “I'm so sorry, Yoongi.” Tears were streaming down your face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You had every right to think what you did.” he tells you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “I should have told you when I was coming home. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I fucking missed you,” he says then captures your lips in a kiss. He has a sturdy hold on the back of your head. He doesn't want you to pull away and you don't. You're done fighting him. Yoongi pulls away and gives you a real smile. Letting you go, he gets up and grabs the bags he brought. He placess them by your feet and motions to them with his hands,“Go ahead.”

You open the bag, and you want to cry again. He was telling you the truth. He got you art supplies and not the generic, big box store brands either. Graphite pencils of different grades, pastels, erasers, blending sticks, blow-bulbs, a portfolio, rulers, paper, and even a finishing spray. You can't even begin to think how much he spent on this. You run your hands over the black portfolio you sat on your lap. You never had access to these items before. You were lucky you had lined paper and a number 2 pencil back in the day. It's perfect, more than perfect.

“Drawing used to make you so happy,” he says quietly. “Just how music makes me happy. I want you to have that back.”

“Thank you,” you say as you throw yourself into his lap, hugging him. He holds you to him, both of you silent, relieved, tired. Pulling back, you run a hand through his hair. “I really like your hair.” Yoongi laughs heartily.

“Good,” he responds, pulling you down for another kiss.

That night, as you laid in your bedroom, it wasn't filled with deafening silence like the night before. It wasn't filled with the sounds of passionate sex. It was filled with his quiet snores and both your heartbeats.

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

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Starring Vampire!Gojo, who's become obsessed with his favorite barista at an overnight cafe. He knows that they're soulmates. He just has to convince her that they are as well.

CONTENT WARNING: This fic contains Yandere typical behavior, kidnapping, obsession, noncon/dubcon, blood kink, (spit kink if ya squint), unprotected sex, references to murder, and mind control. Obviously I condone none of this behavior, and reader discretion is heavily advised.

Satrou watched as you fluttered around your apartment, lighting candles and turning on Over the Garden Wall. You had on your coziest sweater, and not a single overhead light was in use- opting instead for the warm glow of your table and floor lamps. You were welcoming in fall with everything you had in you. You looked warm, cozy, and safe. And despite all of that, he couldn’t help but imagine just how much warmer, cozier, and safer you would look trapped in his mansion.

He adjusted his sitting position on his tree branch, watching you pumpkin spice your tea as you cuddled up on the couch. He loved that you left your curtains open just for him, just so he’d be able to keep an eye on you. He knew it had to be for him, who else could watch you on the fifth floor? And if you didn’t want to be watched at all, surely you would close your curtains. It didn’t make sense for you to just leave them open for no reason. Not with the amount of creeps running around in this town. Creeps he would protect you from.

He thought back to the first time he met you. A brand new barista at his favorite overnight cafe, seemingly hand picked for him. Your sparkling eyes and dazzling smile drew him in, but your irresistible smell is what trapped him. Like warm cinnamon and honeyed apples, already nostalgic to him even if it was his first time experiencing the smell. He was hyper aware of the fangs in his mouth, the need to sink them into whatever was producing that intoxicating smell threatening to overtake him. He felt like a cartoon character drawn to a fresh pie on a windowsill. Your voice sounded damn near angelic. He could still remember the poetry you relayed to him, the first words ever spoken between the two of you. Words he'd treasure forever.

“Hey, I like your glasses!” You smiled, definitely being nice to him because you liked him not just because you wanted a tip. He almost blushed. His glasses- round with red lenses- were more for utility than they were a fashion statement, or something he even liked wearing. They hid his eyes, making them appear to be intensely blue rather than the bright red they really were. Still, if you liked them he’d wear them until the inevitable heat death of the earth.

“Oh, thanks.” He chuckled nervously, giving you a tight lipped smile. He didn’t want to freak you out with his…condition. At least not yet.

“No problem man, what can I get you tonight?” It was then and there he decided you would be his one day.

And it was here and now he decided one day was today. He stood up on his branch and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He watched as you did your regular bedtime routine, going to sleep safe and relaxed, knowing your prince charming was coming to take you to his castle tonight. He knew you were on the same wavelength as he was. He knew from the friendly smiles you gave him every time he came into your cafe, from the way you spoke to him as if he was an old friend- with trust and understanding.

Like, when you first started talking about your boyfriend for example. At first, he thought you were trying to discourage his affections, hint at him to go away. But, he quickly came to his senses. You were his one true love, and he was yours, why would you try and throw that away for some mortal asshole? It wasn’t hard for him to figure out that you were asking him to take out the trash.

He remembered how pathetic that boy sounded as he pleaded for his life. It disgusted Satoru that he was able to get so close to you. You deserved someone that could defend you, not some child that cried the moment things got dicey. You deserved him, Satoru Gojo. No one else would do. Still, it was an honor to take care of this chore for you, even if he wished it had been more of a challenge. He was glad to have taken on the task. It reaffirmed his love for you, and the desire to give you what you deserved.

The lights in your neighbors windows finally went out, assuring him that no one would try to be a hero if you decided to play hard to get. He waited another hour to make sure everyone was asleep before he dropped out of the tree, taking on his bat form and flying to your window. He turned back into a human, catching himself on your brick windowsill. It was around now he realized he didn’t exactly think this through, but- it’s fine. It’s fine! This is true love, this is fate, things were going to work out. Probably.

He pulled himself up, balancing with one arm on the thin ledge and opening your window with the other. He smiled when he found it unlocked, confirming that not only were you on the same page as him, you were waiting for him. Good girl. He slid into your studio apartment, and immediately had to brace himself against a wall. It was overwhelming just how much this space smelled like you. It made sense, of course, you spent more of your time here than anywhere else. He expected it to be rich with your smell, but he didn’t expect it to be so intoxicating. He could feel his fangs buzzing with the need to feed, and his body flush with lust. He was down right giddy at the realization that soon, his home would smell like this.

But he had to get you there first. He straightened up, coming to his senses as he turned took at your sleeping form. He felt his chest tighten with affection. You looked so peaceful when you were asleep, softly snoring and completely content. You looked ethereal in the pale moonlight, snuggled under your fluffy blanket. If he saw a picture of you like this, he wouldn’t believe you were real. Which, is saying something cause he’s, ya know, a fucking vampire.

He strode over to your bedside, gently running the back of his knuckles along your angelic jawline. “Rise and shine, beautiful. It’s time to go home.” He whispered softly into your ear, his rich voice filling your mind and causing you to stir.

“Mm- wha..” You muttered softly, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation in your groggy state.

“Come on darling, our bed is waiting for you at home.” He cooed again, taking your warm hand into his ice cold claws.

“Wha..wait, Gojo?”

“You can call me Satoru. Or Love, that would work too.”

“GOJO?!” Oop- you were awake now. You ripped your hand from his, scrambling to get away from him. So you were going to play hard to get. “What are you doing in my home?!” You demanded. He tried to push back his annoyance.

“Darling girl, this isn’t your home.” He gently reminded you, “Your home is all the way on the other side of town, with me.”

“Oh, fuck That!” You yelled, grabbing your bedside table lamp, a heavy porcelain antique, and smashing it across his head. To your credit, if he wasn’t a supernatural being- that would have really fucking hurt. If he didn’t know you were just playing, he would have thought you were actually trying to injure him! But, even if you were just playing, he couldn’t let violence slide.

“Now now baby girl, Is that anyway to treat your lover?” He asked, pulling you into his arms with a speed that you quite frankly could not comprehend. His grip was impossibly strong too, not only rendering escape out of the question, but making it hard to breathe. You could feel bruises forming where is fingertips met your flesh, and bile rise in your throat.

“I’m not your fucking lover Gojo-”

“Darling, please it’s Satoru to you.”

“You’re fucking crazy!” You snapped, trying to wiggle out of his grip, despite the futility of it.

“Crazy for you Babygirl.” Oh great, not only was he out of his fucking mind, he was going to be cheesy about it too.

“Let me go!” You demanded, trying to thrash but only managing to squirm. You tried kicking him, but it was about as affective as performing CPR on a corpse.

“I will, as soon as we get home.” He “assured” you. It was then you realized he was leading you to your open window. Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Was he going to fucking kill you?! Was home the afterlife?!

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You screamed, clawing as his arms and struggling against him in any way you could, “Gojo-”

“Satoru.” He was starting to lose his patience with your insistence of using his family name.

“Motherfucker, we are on The. Fifth. Floor. You’re gonna kill us!” Ohhhh riiight, You were human! You had never flown before! Of course you were freaking out, the first flight is always a little scary. He reminded himself he needed to be more sympathetic with you while you were adjusting, and mentally berated himself for forgetting in the first place.

“Don’t worry darling,” He said, sitting on the ledge and holding you even tighter to his chest- if that was possible, “I won’t let you fall.” He said before promptly falling back first out of the window. You don’t know what was louder, the sound of the wind rushing past your ears, or the screams ripping from your throat.

And then the wind got softer, as if you weren’t falling but-...You looked up to confirm your suspicion. Gojo was holding you on his chest as coasted through the air, looking as relaxed as he would if he was on an inner-tube on a sleepy lake. You suddenly understood what was happening.

“Oh, I’m dreaming!” You all but laughed at the realization.

“It is a dream come true, huh?” He smiled, “I thought we might share dreams.” You rolled your eyes at him, but noticeably relaxed. If you were dreaming, that meant there was no danger. You weren’t flying through the air with a sociopath that was trying to kidnap you, no. You were at home, safe in your bed. In the morning, you would throw away the expired clove in your pantry, and watch The Lost Boys as this fucked up dream slowly seeped out of your mind. All would be well.

That was the thought you were clinging onto as he landed in the lawn of an old southern gothic mansion on the edge of town. You were familiar with this property. The kids spread rumors of it being haunted, overrun with ghouls and ghosts and all things that go bump in the night. Most of them wouldn’t go up to it’s front door, even on Halloween night, with the promise of candy hanging in the air. They believed that once you knocked on the door, your days were numbered. Even the adults spoke about it in hushed whispers, sharing conspiracy theories about who the home owner could possibly be, and why no one ever saw them. Many assumed it was abandoned.

And now that you were in the front lawn, you understood where all the fear came from. The house was overwhelming, a dark aurora clinging to it and a sense of dread radiating off of it. But, you were dreaming! You couldn’t be hurt! You let Gojo lead you into the front door with zero fear, knowing that you were impervious to danger at the moment.

Inside you were greeted with a surprisingly warm interior. The outside seemed more like a defense mechanism now, like a bug that disguises itself as a much deadlier creature, when in reality the bug was harmless. Antique table lamps bathed the room in warm light, The red vintage wallpaper making the old black furniture look inviting. The class and elegance of the home put you even more at ease. Leaving you vulnerable.

You didn’t even notice the amount of locks he was locking behind you, or the fact that some of them required a code. “Welcome home darling,” He said as he finally finished securing the million latches, returning and wrapping his arms around your waist, “What do you think?” He purred.

“It’s…cozy.” You said. It was, in it’s own weird way. “I always wondered what the inside of this house looked like.”

“Well, it’s yours now, so feel free to make any changes you want.” He smiled, kissing your forehead. You felt a chill as his cold lips pressed against your skin. Your brain may have known it was dreaming, but your body didn’t. You still felt shaky, your heart was still racing, and your palms were still clammy. Your body was in super-hyper-defense mode. Which, was to say you felt like you were seconds away from a panic attack. He must have noticed the blood draining from your face.

“It’s late darling. The grand tour can wait, let me show you to our room.” Oh, good idea. If you slept, you could wake up in your bed and get this dream over with. You nodded and let him lead you up the ornate, spiral staircase, and down the hall to the master bedroom. An absolutely massive room that matched the living area, only instead of red it was a powder blue, A truly extravagant bed was the center piece of the room, a large canopy hanging over it. You noticed there were no windows in the room. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen any windows at all, other than in the living room. And even still, they were boarded up.

“Thanks for the room, I uh…I think I’m going to go to sleep. You can go now.” You told him. His laugh sent a blizzard through your body.

“Go now?” He cackled, “Darling, this is my room too.” He said gently, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “We share everything…” He leaned down and pressed his nose into the juncture of your neck, taking a deep breath and getting lost in your scent. He felt you try to push him away, but you would have had an easier time trying to push Mount Fuji over.

“Gojo, I-”

“Satoru.” He growled, “For the last time. My name, is Satoru.” He very gently reminded you, gripping you tighter and digging his long black claws into your side. You gasped from the pain, feeling drops of blood leak from you new would. You felt the pain. You felt pain.

You weren’t dreaming. You weren’t dreaming.

You felt a sharp icy chill rip though you as he dragged his cold, slimy tongue along your neck. “You smell so decadent my love.” He praised. You lost your words as you felt him run his hands under your sleep shirt and up your bare skin. His chilled fingers left frigid trails along your body, reminding you of where he had touched- where he had violated. Your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your throat, and your stomach turned as he pressed your hips into his, making it painfully clear just how happy he was to have you here.

He could smell your blood leaking from your side and it was clouding every other thought he had. He hadn’t fed in weeks. No one else was worth it, no one smelled nearly as appetizing as you. Every other disgusting mortal tasted rotten to him now, and no matter who he chased they were never you. They may have had your skin color, or your eye color, but none of them could hold a candle to you.

But he had you here now. His darling, his world. His perfect meal. And he was fucking starving. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.” He purred, dragging his fangs across the thin skin on your neck.

“N-no, don’t-!” Your words turned into a scream as he dug his fangs into your flesh, your scream dying in your throat as he bit down. You felt his sharp fangs pierce into you, opening up your veins and letting the blood flow freely for him. You felt his cold tongue collecting the very crimson that give you life, greedily feeding on you as if you were the finest meal he had ever had.

Probably because you were. The flavor of fresh apples and salted caramel spreading in his mouth and through his being, making his cold body buzz with your warmth. You tasted better than he had ever imagined. He roughly grabbed your hair, tangling his claws in it as he pulled your head to the side, giving him more room to feast. It restarted your nervous system. You found your will to fight again, thrashing in his grip and trying even harder to push him away. He growled at your sudden insolence, forcing himself away from your throat.

He grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look in his eyes. “Why do you insist on fighting me, Love?” He groaned. You realized he wasn’t wearing his normal glasses, and his eyes were still as red as the blood currently flowing through you. Fuck, how could you have been so blind? You tried to break away from his grip again.

“Because you’re a fucking monster!” You snapped. Well that was harsh. He didn’t want to do this so early on in your living with him, but really you left him with no choice. “Let me go!” You demanded again.

“Why would I do that?” He asked, his eyes burning into your very soul. “You want to be here.” You watched as his eyes changed. Red irises now ringed with violet, then gold, then violet again. It was so…mesmerizing.

“No I-...” Your words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You could feel your brain filling with fog, the edges of your vision becoming a vignette. Slowly you could feel the ice he filled you with melting from your body, leaving you feeling something much warmer instead.

“Yes you do. You’re my girl, of course you want to be here with me.” He purred, a soft smile looking so misplaced on his bloodstained face. “You do want to be with me, don’t you Y/n?”

“I do.” N-no. No that's not what you meant to say. What the hell?

“Then why are you trying to fight me?” Because he’s a fucking creep that stole you out of your bed and was now practicing the ancient art of BLOODLETTING on you!

“I don’t know.” No! Why weren’t your words matching your thoughts?! Why couldn’t you say what you meant!?

“If you don’t know Darling, then there's no point to it. I don’t want to hurt you my love, please don’t force my hand.” he sighed, cupping your cheek in his palm. You wanted to jerk away, but you felt your body lean into his cool touch. It felt nice against your warm cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You absolutely were not sorry.

“It’s okay Beautiful. I know how you can make it up to me.” His grin was wicked with ill intent as he returned to your neck, licking at the blood flowing there. You could feel your body temperature continue to rise, what was once almost pleasant slowly becoming unbearable. You whined softly at the unpleasantness of the heat.

“You’re warm,” He noted, running his cold hand along your side. The ice he held wasn’t unwelcome anymore. Now it felt like the cool waves of the ocean on a hot summer day. You felt you head nod limply at his obvious observation. Of course you were warm, you were on fire.

“Let me help.” He whispered, pulling your shirt over your head. You’d think being exposed to the cool air in this drafty mansion would have helped your situation, but you felt no change. You didn’t feel a change when he slipped your bottoms off either, and you almost whined when he pushed you onto the bed, the fluffy fabric of the blanket making everything worse.

And then his lips were on yours, like the first chill breeze after a heat wave. More, more, you needed more. Your hands fumbled with his shirt buttons, struggling with numb fingers to fit the brass through the holes. Finally, after undoing three, you gave up and ripped the shirt off over his head- possible ripped fabric be damned.

“I knew you wanted me darling,” He grinned, your eagerness to have him undressed fueling his undeserved sense of confidence. You didn’t care though, because his skin was finally on yours. His chest pressed against yours, you finally felt some sense of relief, like putting aloe on a bad sunburn. You moaned softly as he trailed kisses from your jaw to the wound on your neck, still bleeding but much slower now. He gently sucked on the dripping injury, and instead of pain, you felt euphoria. You moaned softly, pressing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the building pressure.

He gave you a tight lip smile, red covering his lower face, as he moved down on you, spreading your legs. His grin grew once he saw what you were working with. He knew it would be pretty, he had imagined it more than a few times while fucking his hand- chasing a high he knew only you could give him. But honestly, he didn’t think it would be that pretty. You noticed his lack of commentary just in time to find out why he was keeping his mouth shut.

He leaned down and spit your own blood out and onto your cunt, making an already pretty pussy prettier. You were embarrassed to say you moaned, but the blood chilled by his mouth felt do fucking good on your burning body.

“God, you’re a freak.” He laughed, showing blood stained teeth. “Yet another thing we have in common.” He cooed as he massaged the sangria into your clit, sending waves of euphoria through your body. His hand moved down, slowing tracing your entrance before slipping a long finger inside, quickly followed by a second.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasped as he curled his fingers up inside of you, gracing your g-spot with an expert precision. You felt your hips buck up against your will, reacting to him in ways that would have made you nauseous in any other state.

“You like that Darling?” He asked with a smirk, curling his fingers again and again. You whined softly, chasing the chill of his touch. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” You grumbled. You wanted to tell him no. You wanted to tell him to fuck off and stop touching you, but at the same time that was the last thing you wanted him to do. It felt like his touch was the only thing that could regulate your body, not to mention the fact that it just felt so fucking good.

You were sure whatever he did to you was causing this heat, but you had also never been this sensitive before. His every movement sent waves of electricity through your nervous system. Your body craved him in way it had craved no one else before, responding to him like it was made for him. You felt a cool pool of pleasure forming in your stomach, your body buzzing with desire and anticipation.

He bit his lip as he felt you clench around his fingers, and immediately he had to feel that clench around his dick. He pulled his hand away, placing his two fingers in his mouth and sucking them clean, eyes rolling back at the sweet taste. You whined at the loss of contact, hips bucking in search of the pleasure they were robbed of. You wanted to cry, the frustration of a lost climax clouding your already cloudy brain. “Noooo!” Was all you could manage to say, and god did you sound pathetic saying it.

“Don’t worry Darling girl,” Satoru chuckled as he pulled out his cock, “I got something even better for you.” You watched as he pumped his dick, the angry red tip looking so much redder against his pale skin. He rubbed his hand over the leaking tip, using the fluid there to slick himself up. You wouldn’t say this about a lot of guys, but you thought even your normal brain would be able to admit he had a pretty dick.

A pretty dick he was about to shove into your soaking cunt. You bit your lip in anticipation as he lifted your hips up to meet his. “Ready pretty girl?” He purred. You nodded an aggressive affirmative and he almost laughed. “No no Beautiful, with your words. Tell me you want me.”

“I want you!” You whined, hearing your voice but not your words again, “I want you so bad, please. Please I need you, I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk anymore, until I can’t think straight, I want to be ruined for anyone else, please!”

“Atta girl,” He praised, finally pushing into your needy cunt. He shuddered as he did, your warm velvety walls enveloping him and pulling him deeper than he realized possible. He almost came right then and there, like an untouched virgin, but managed to contain himself. Your moans weren’t doing him any favors, but you couldn't help it. He felt like a snowstorm inside the inferno that was your body, controlling the fire that raged there and finally giving you some relief. The stretch stinging at you was just an added bonus.

“You feel so fucking good Darling,” He praised, pulling back and slowly pushing himself back in, perfectly rubbing against your g-spot. You curved your back in pleasure, electric waves of euphoria crashing into your body, and quickly dragging you back to the edge.

“It’s like you were made for me,” He cooed, “My perfect meal, my perfect fuck toy, you were designed to be mine.” He moaned, tangling his fingers into yours as he looked you in the eyes, painting a scene of what he thought intimacy looked like.

“Fuck, you feel so good Satoru..” You moaned, cunt fluttering around him as your climax quickly approached. Something in his brain switched. Before you fully understood what was happening, you were folded into a mating press, his cock reaching places inside of you you weren’t even sure were possible to reach. Your veins felt like they were full of smoke and your entire body felt like it was made of stars, ecstasy exploding inside you every time he moved.

“Say it again.” He demanded.

“Satoru!” You yelped, honestly a little pissed off he expected you to talk now.

“Again.” He demanded, pumping into you with a vengeance.

“Satrou!” You whined, digging your nails into the pale flesh of his back, dragging your nails and leaving angry red claw marks in your wake.

“Who do you belong to Y/n?” He asked, eyes burning into your again. You knew the answer he wanted. You clenched your teeth and sucked on your tongue. You used any willpower you had left not to say it. He may have taken your body, but you couldn’t let him take you.

“Come on Darling, answer me. Who do you belong to?” He prompted again, this time coupled with the perfect thrust of his hips, lining up perfectly with your sweet spot, and using a free hand to rub your clit. The wave of lust and pleasure that overtook you washed away any willpower you may have had left.

“You, Satoru.” You whined, feeling tears prick at your eyes.

“That’s right darling,” He grinned wickedly as he licked at your neck wound, letting the blood flow over his tongue. “You’re fucking mine.” He started pounding into you with a vengeance, and you felt the strings in your stomach start to snap. Your entire body tensed up vision went white hot as galaxies exploded inside your veins, euphoria crashing into your body in seismic waves, making your cunt quiver from the after shocks. Your head felt like it was filled with cotton and you could feel your thighs trembling around him as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Satoru I-” You tried to communicate but couldn’t get the words, your already altered brain turning to much and leaking out of your ears as he fucked you through your high. His was close, he wouldn’t be far behind. The way that your cunt fluttered around his cock mixed with the pretty sounds you were making were frying his own nervous system, and all he could think about was how pretty you’d look with his cum dripping down your thighs.

“Y/n,” He panted as he pounded into you. Your eyes met his. You lifted a shaky hand to push his snowy hair out of his face and he was done for. The small intimate act leaving him gushing deep inside you to the point of overflow. “Fuck I love you,” He moaned as he fucked you through his high, “I Love You, I love you so fucking much.”

He all but collapsed on top of you as he finally finished, pulling you into his cold chest. Your body temperature finally felt normal again, and you could feel the effects of his hypnosis slowly wearing off. He noticed too, and kissed away the tears that slipped down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry Darling, did I overwhelm you?” He asked, genuine concern filling his voice. You wanted to scoff at the question, but choose to keep quiet instead. You were locked in his house. You had to play his games now to stay alive. He took your silence to be an affirmative.

“I’m sorry Darling. You don’t have to say it back yet, it’s okay. I know you love me.” He smiled, your blood still staining his fangs and making you sick. He finally pulled out, and you hated the empty feeling that followed. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #vampire gojo #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #satoru gojo x reader smut #yandere gojo smut #gojo smut

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jermer10 · 6 months

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(I'm new here so if you have done this already, MB) could you write heavy x reader when reader finds heavys clothes and wears them and heavy catches them?? I would like reader to be gender neutral or female and it can lead to NSFW if you want it too 🥴 thank you (ignore if needed) 💛💛💛

TF2 sweater weather | heavy x reader

18+ only, afab reader | i fucking LOVE heavy

drabbles under the cut :P

Every merc had a designated job in order to keep the barracks clean, and yours happened to be the bathrooms. You absolutely hated this job. Ten mercs living under one roof where 90% of you were men? Yeah, those bathrooms were feral, and after having to scrub them clean 2 times a week for months, you were beginning to grow exhausted. So when Medic offered to swap the laundry job with you for a week, you took full advantage of his generosity. You had no idea how much laundry 10 mercs produced in the span of a week. The first night is when you saw Misha's sweater in the dryer. It was massive, the biggest piece of clothing you had ever seen, red and adorned with black stripes and diamonds across the chest. It smelt of washing detergent, the musk of old clothing, and a hint of the lemongrass cologne he had been wearing that hadn't been washed out in the machine.

This wasn't the first time you had seen the sweater, in fact he wore it often during the colder months, but it was the first time you had it in your hands, the first time you were able to smell it up close, the first time you were able to feel the plush fabric scrunched up in your fists. You felt dizzy, face flushing in both embarrassment and lust. Your crush on the older man had not gone unnoticed by him, and his small advances had done nothing to aid the sticky wetness which gathered in your underwear whenever he had gotten too close. You closed your eyes, breathing in the scent of him, hands inching to the waistband of your shorts.

"YO! MEDIC! I NEED SOME UNDERWEAR!" A voice boomed from the entrance to the laundry. You snapped out of your trance, and threw the sweater back into the laundry basket. Scout came swiftly around the corner, towel wrapped around his lanky hips. "Oh! Uhh, hey y/n." He grinned, blush dusting his cheeks. "Hey man, underwear is in the basket. I'm not finished sorting through them yet so you'll have to search for 'em." He nodded, scavenging through the clothes. 'I need to get my shit together, that was so gross..' you thought, the blood rushing to your face once more as you began to toss the dirty clothes into the washing machine.

Night three you had seen the sweater again, and this time it was in the dirty basket. You couldn't help the perverse thoughts, gingerly picking the piece of clothing and setting it aside. You figured you could get a couple of loads on before washing it with the last of the clothing, then you would have adequate time to...do what you needed. It was dirty, the way you continued to glance over at it even after you had resigned yourself to doing your job. You needed to smell it, the blood entrenched in the fibers of the fabric, the lemongrass stench that you could pick up from across the spacious room, the smell of Heavy, his natural odor alone set you off.

"Fuck," You breathed out, feeing your fingers slide into your pants as you held the sweater to your face. You could cum there and then, imagining him as the person touching you. It wasn't enough, you needed to wear the sweater. You needed to feel him wrapped around you. It slid over your head with ease, the sleeves far too large, the bottom hem of the sweater reaching well below your knees. You came hard, muffled noises of moans as you shoved your face into the bunched up fabric. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" You clasped your face in your hands.

It was Sunday, the final day of washing clothes before you would have to go back to the bathrooms. The week had been slow, and you were certain Misha had picked up the change in your behavior. You were skittish, face red whenever you saw him, and whenever you saw him swearing that god forsaken sweater you couldn't even bare to stay in the same room as him for longer than a minute. That fucking sweater. Sitting clean, in the dryer, waiting, no, begging, for you to put it on. You obliged, slipping into the cloth eagerly. You stood there for a moment, smelling the fabric, taking it in. This was the last time you would get to do this. The last- "What are you doing?" You heard the thick Russian accent of the man behind you before you even heard what he had said.

You couldn't even look at him. You didn't have to, you could hear his menacing footsteps walk up to you, and then you felt his large hands grasp your hips. You couldn't help but gasp at the sensation. "Heavy has been waiting for opportunity like this. This is why you have been so scared of Heavy hmm?" His tone was hot, heavy, and laced with false concern. "Uhh, yeah I guess." You mumbled awkwardly. He laughed, a deep, hearty laugh that made your knees weak and your eyes squeeze close. "Come, little голубь." You felt yourself being lifted into the air and placed on the folding bench in front of the machines.

Heavy stripped your shorts from you, leaving no time for you to process his actions before your bottom half was completely naked. "Heavy came here to talk, but fucking you will get point across much quicker." He grinned, a lovestruck, sadistic grin. If you had been wet before, you were soaked now. He knelt down face lined up with your sobbing pussy, his tongue prodding at your entrance before his mouth absorbed your sex. "Ohhhhh fuuuuuuckkkkk" The moan drawls from your throat, its raw and guttural. Your body writhes and shakes under his gentle touch.

His tongue snakes it's way onto your clit, gently sucking and prodding at it with his lips. You're getting close, your fingers gripped onto his face, pulling him in closer, begging for release. He pulls away, and before you can produce a whine of protest, he pushes his index finger into you. It's enough to stretch you, to fill you up completely. He thrusts his finger in twice, placing his mouth back onto your pussy, and you cum hard. He pulls away licking his fingers clean, you're a heaving whining mess. "Wear Heavy's clothes more often." He states simply, standing up and smacking your ass before kissing you passionately and walking out. You should swap jobs with Medic more often.

#ask #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 heavy #tf2 heavy x reader #heavy x reader #tf2 x you smut #tf2 x reader smut #tf2 smut #smut

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albert-harebrayne · 2 months

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you wouldn't download a limited edition ace attorney christmas sweater from 2016

pattern adapted from this post by @acerunaway from original design by nina matsumoto/space coyote :))

cross stitch pattern + fcjson here bc i don't gatekeep + other notes under the read more!

for 3852 in the pattern, i actually used some of my light effects threads, E3852, for that sparkly feel. i couldn't find a reliable source on what the closest non-light effect equivalent is, and flosscross wouldn't let me put in light effects, so i just left it as 3852.

i stitched this with 10 count aida and 4 strands. if you want to make this on a sweatshirt, make your own measurements accordingly & make sure it fits and has good coverage.

i stitched this similarly to the original sweatshirt in that the navy background fills in the dark areas on the design itself (like maya and nick’s hair and nick’s suit) so you don’t have to stitch them. if you want a lighter color sweatshirt, keep this in mind & modify the design accordingly

i played with the colors a bit from the original design (fun fact edgeworth’s suit is the closest dmc thread color i could find to b00b69, and maya’s outfit is also modified from a funny hex code but i don’t remember which one). if you want to make changes, you can go to flosscross.com, import the fcjson file in the google drive folder, and make whatever modifications you want <3

please do not sell this pattern for money or put it on mass-produced merch as the design is not originally mine or acerunaway’s! on that note i encourage you to support the original artist nina matsumoto/space coyote; she has a ton of cool video game merch (including ace attorney) available through fangamer. i myself have the ace attorney desk mat on my desk at work and have gotten a lot of compliments on it from my coworkers

#ace attorney #turnabout goodbyes #cross stitch #guys this was legit so painful... i think i have a wrist cramp and blisters from yanking out those strands of waste canvas #and my ac is broken in my apartment so id be sweltering having my arms inside of that sweatshirt LMFAO #the things i do for this gay lawyer game i swear to god #thank god i decided against knitting it i think id be in even worse hell

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stagefoureddiediaz · 4 months

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7x07 Costume Meta

Well!! Where does one even start with this episode!!!

We start with Hen - thats where! Well actually we start by saying that no Bobby or Athena in this meta - as they were only seen in uniform!

I also want to say - starting with this one, I'm going to have to pull back from the very full on costume meta's I've been putting out each week - work has got incredibly busy (I'm about to undertake a massive multi £million project) and I just don't have the capacity - mentally and physically or the time, to write meta for every single one of our main (and the regulars/guest) cast. These metas take a huge amount of effort and energy and while I love writing them, I need to have the time to pursue other things alongside them, (which I currently don't) and give myself time to rest - I don't want my AuDHD to spiral me into burnout.

So while I'm still going to be putting out a costume meta each week, I cannot guarantee which or how many characters and costumes I talk about - I may do all the characters but not all their costumes or just a few of the characters but all their costumes - it depends on my capacity that week. I will commit to doing Buck and Eddie every week (unles they're only in uniform) because they are the reason I started doing these metas in the forstplace and are my blorbos!

I hope you can understand and still enjoy what I do produce and my inbox will always be open if you have specific questions you'd like to ask! Thanks for understanding

Now on with the meta - below the cut as usual!

Hen

Hens costumes go on a bit of a journey in this episode

Not going to lie - this t-shirt - I am obsessed with it as a choice for Hen and for this scene. Loewe t-shirts start at $300 - I am clearly in the wrong job and universe!! But that aside - we have this bright cyan blue (because its a cyanotype design!) which means trust and loyalty, but it is combined with a cow parsley print and cow parsley in flower language means safety sanctuary and refuge - due to its prevelance in church yards and churches being places where one could seek sanctuary (hisotrically speaking). So this is hen offering all of those things to Mara (on behalf of the Wilson family) and that is just beautiful to see.

Hen in a bright pink hoodie when the pink = naivety and innocence theme we have for this season is going strong, it does also play into the idea of secrets and cheating a bit as well - as we see Deidra give them a way to contact Maras half brothers family, and the implication that Mara's mother cheated on Maras father is made clear as well.

Then we get this birth of love jumper with pink roses on a gold background. gold in colour theory mean optimism, enlightenment and prosperity and with pink roses meaning gratitude and new beginnings, the symbolism of the sweater is pretty clear - even without the words 'the birth of love' wrtien on it - along with mara being in yellow and back in contact with her baby brother, all things are looking pretty positive in the Wilson household right now!

Maddie

its all about the pale blues and lavenders for Maddie this week.

The pale blue we see Maddie in here plays into the same blue theming we've seen Buck wearing since the end of season 5 - this is all about Maddie getting some closure and moving on from her past - leaving Doug and the trauma he put her through in the past. The blue bookends that mini arc for Maddie in this episode - showing her still doing a bit of processing over her trauma surrounding Doug and his kidnapping of her.

We also get the tan coloured jacket with its golden wrm undetones - its within the brown spectrum of the colour wheel and therefore plays into the theme of stability and protection.

We also get this beautiful lavender colour in the middle of it all as well. Lavender is a colour of cleansing and tranquility - which ties in nicely to Maddies pale blue closure and moving on journey for the episode.

Buck

Buck decided to just play out the green and blue colour theme on his own this week - the dark bottle green shirt with a navy blue apron thats messy and stained is an interesting choice! This is the second time this season we've seen Buck in this dark green shade, and both times have been around Eddie and both scenes have related to issues with Eddies relationship with Marisol and the idea of keeping secrets of some description.

combine this with the other times we've seen Buck wearing this dark bottle green and things become even more interesting

-2x18 - Buck and Ali relationship end -3x12 - skateboarding -3x16 - when Buck takes Red to see Cindy -5x13 - when he confesses to Taylor about kissing Lucy -5x18 - when he breaks up with Taylor

the skateboarding scene is the only one that doesn't fully fit the bottle green narrative at play in the other three scenes - its also the only other scene where there is no blue present - Eddie is wearing white and buff, so it can be discounted from the pattern by virtue of the lack of blue.

All 4 of the other scenes involve a relationship crisis point of some description - Ali all but ends their relationship (side point here, Buck is also wearing blue and green in this scene as the hoodie is lined in navy blue).

- Red discovers Cindy has dementia and cannot remember him - ending any hope of that relationship being something he can pursue. This scene does however sit slightly apart from the later scenes as well - by virtue of Red being the character involved - and not someone Buck has a close personal relationship with - Red is a new friend.

Buck confessing he kissed Lucy puts his relationship with Taylor in jeopardy and it then ends in 5x18 - both of these scenes play into the theme of the lack of trust and of secrets on top of the relationship crisis points.

So to combine those scenes with the two from this season - all involve a crisis point in a close relationship along with secrets and to a greater or lesser extent a lack of trust, leading to a breakdown or termination of a relationship. So while on the surface this is all pointing towards some form of relationship termination, my feeling is that isn't the whole story. I do think it still points towards a relationship crisis point for Buck and Eddie (as well as Eddie and Marisol and Eddie and Kim) when the fact Eddie is cheating on Marisol comes to light, the fact that Buck is also the one wearing the blue and not Eddie, points me towards thinking that Buck will also be the one to ensure that any break between him and Eddie is only temporary - because ultimately Buck has been on both sides of the coin - he has been cheated on (Abby did't technically end their relationship so Buck was technically being cheated on) and been the one to do the cheating.

Chris

Chris is the only colour in this scene - we have Eddie in white and buff and Marisol in white and black - both effectively devoid of colour - meanwhile Chris is sat between them wearing green and red - and check gets thrown into the mix as well.

The fact he is placed directly between them for most of the scene is an indicator that it is this 'family' dynamic that is going to fall under the curse of the check pattern - the check is foreshadowing the entrance of Kim later in the scene, as well as the future end of the relationship between Eddie and Marisol and Chris and Marisol.

The green is also closer to Eddies army greens than we've seen Chris in before - playing into the idea of Chris and Eddie being similar in their behaviours and mannerisms - again its a form of foreshadowing Eddies cheating arc sitting in parallel to Chris's one.

Meanwhile the red is a signal of danger (it can mean passion, love etc as well, but in this instance - as its being used in check pattern - its more a symbol of danger - a warning!).

I'm also fascinated by the foreshadowing this outfit gives us as well - the red and green of Buck and later outfits - a signifier perhaps of the check also hinting at conflict ahead for Buck and Eddie over the fact Eddie is lying to Buck and to Chris - as the use of the two colours on all three of them in the episode (and only the three of them) really highlights them as a unit once again.

Then we have Chris in a white tee and a two tone denim jacket. I am sincerley hoping that the white tee is not a signifier of the same things as Buck being in white - Chris so rarely wears white, that I am hoping it is merely playing into the idea that Chris is a true innocent in the tangled web that Eddie is weaving - the web centred around his internalised idea that he needs to find another mother figure for Chris.

Marisol

Marisol in back and white stripes is paying into stripe theory rather nicely - its indicating that change is coming. We see the beginnings of that change later in the scene with the introduction of Kim. The choice to have the stripes in black and white is also telling - its a literal representation of things being black and white and plays into the theme of Eddie and Marisol's relationship lacking colour - its very telling that both her and Eddie have worn black and or white around each other far more than any other colours, I'm not saying we haven't seen them in other colours - we have - Marisol has also worn the bright pink top in 7x01 and the blue dressing gown (and the blue top from later) and Eddie has worn his army green but the fact of the matter is that black and white are the over arching colours the two of them wear in relation to one another and tied into that is the fact that none of the scenes she has been involved in have been about establishing her as a character in her own right - all of her scenes have been set up for either Chris or Eddie - the audience is being given very little to endear her to them and the black and white also plays that out - in fact we have had more establishment of Eddie and Tommy as friends in one episode than we have had of Eddie and Marisol as a couple across multiple episodes.

There is also the fact that white means purity and innocence - which as a novice nun is on theme for her - but it also plays into the idea that she is also an innocent party in the road Eddie is about to send them on.

We also get more Marisol in Blue - its a bright blue that is very reminiscent of the bright blue that the Virgin Mary is depicted wearing in Catholic art - it plays into the theme of Eddies Catholic guilt that was established in 7x05 when Eddie found out she was a novice nun - its just yet more layering of this positioning her as a representation of the Catholic faith - as a representation of purity and goodness - she is intentionally meant to seen bland and too good an pure - its her literal narrative purpose.

Kim

Ok sooo Kim the Shannon Doppelgänger! They've done a great job with costuming her to make her look very differnet to Shannon - which is a key thing. To start with all the colours we've seen her in so far sit on the opposite side of the colour wheel from Shannon - who was much more in the yellow orange and pink side of the wheel, while Kim here sits in the blue side of the wheel - interestingly the same side of the Wheel that Buck sits on. I've spoken at length about How Buck in the pale blues we've seen him wearing since the end of season five was about his journey of self discovery and figuring out who he is and what he wants - about moving forward and leaving the past in the past. The same could be said for Eddie here its just manifesting in a very differnet way - Kim is a projection of Shannon, so moving on from Shannon and leaving her ghost in the past is what Eddies journey is all about.

I am fascinated by the fact that this suit choice - with its vertical striped pattern and white shirt underneath also plays into 6x01 Buck and the lasagne of it all - especially considering we see Buck attempting a new lasagne later in the episode - there is something in the concept that Buck getting his lasagne right in that blue zip front jacket when Eddie is there to eat it, and then not getting the new lasagne he is trying out right when Eddie is not going to be eating it - things being successful and right when the three of them are together as the Buckley-Diaz family, but not being successful or right when one of them isn't present.

This as a concept places Buck along side Shannon - something we've already seen explicitly stated on screen in this season and in direct contrast to Kim - because not only is Kim a doppelgänger for Shannon, she becomes a doppelgänger for buck as well.

The blue and white striped top in the second Kim scene also mirrors Buck costumes from season 6 - the vertical stripes and the use of blue and white - it further emphasises the paralleling of the pair of them - because the implications are clear - Eddie thinking he's found this second chance with Shannon - a second chance at happiness with when the reality is that Buck has been there all along - it plays perfectly into the Vertigo arc that Tim is using as well - Buck in the place of Midge - the best friend but the actual right fit for Eddie who has been there all along.

This black sheer top and leather jacket with the knotted updo is playing into so many themes that it makes me happy! the first and most obvious one is that its a very stereotypical 'other woman' outfit - the sophisticated seductress. It also plays her into the opposite of Shannon - dark versus light - all the flashbacks of Shannon we saw in this episode were brightly lit and bathed in light - giving her an angelic and heavenly aura - a play on her status as an angel (both in terms of her being dead, but also in terms of Eddie having rose tinted glasses on in regards to their relationship and her as a person - that common trait of making saints of the dead - especially when their death was traumatic and left things unfinished - as we have with Eddie)- Kim her is lit far more darkly and the glow of the light has a much more orange and therefore darker tone to it - its a play on temptation - the updo and leather also give her a slightly serpent like air - she is Eve tempting Adam to eat the fruit - it is serpent like. This theme plays on the other religious theme we've had established around Eddie - with Marisol being placed into this Virgin Mary role - here we have Kim being placed into her opposition as the devil - I am not saying she is evil - this is about Eddie being tempted by trying to get back what he has lost - she is a physical manifestation of what is happening - of Eddies internal struggles with his catholic guilt - much in the same way Marisol is a manifestation of the opposite side of that catholic guilt coin - they are the extremes that are pulling on Eddie in physical form and Eddie needs to find the balance.

Eddie

Boy oh boy do we have a lot to talk about with Eddie this week!1

There are three key themes at play with Eddie in his costuming this week and its so so good, I'm obsessed with the choices being made.

Starting out with this white tee and buff suede jacket which ties into three separate scenes which are key in relation to Christopher and Eddies relationships with women and the the theme of Eddie looking for a mother for him.

up first - the moment Eddie lets Shannon back into Christophers life - this one is pretty obvious on the mother front - Eddie is literally letting Christophers actual mother back into his life. this jacket is closer to brown than the buff colour of the one above, but it still plays into the theme - its the point at which the theme is established.

Then we have Eddies talk with Bobby about Shannon and re proposing to her as well as the possibly of her being pregnant again. Its a key turning point in his the relationship with Shannon - it is the moment that idealisation starts to creep into Eddies perspective on her and the moment when past, present and future collide - the concept of having Shannon and not having Shannon.

Finally we have the skateboarding scene - which while being a key moment of bonding as the Buckely-Diaz dynamic continues to be established in season 3. The jacket here is the closest to the one from 7x07 and this scene comes on the back of a couple of scenes with Ana - who was wearing pale blue in one and white (with red flowers) in the second.

All of these scenes when combined with the scenes from 7x07 establish this white tee - buff/beige jacket or shirt colour way as being about Christopher and Eddies desire to give him a mother figure - that the final scene - the skateboard scene very clearly shows Buck becoming a key figure in Christophers upbringing in a far more visual and physical way - Eddie is and active participant rather than standing on the sidelines as he is in all the others - along with the choice to show buck in the dark green in the same episodes - showing Buck in a semi parental role back then to show him in an even more parental role in this one (the 'we won't wait up' was a definite choice on the script front when it had been established that Chris was staying over at Bucks and Eddie wasn't returning until the following day) - especially when you also have Chris wearing red in both episodes.

Eddie in a black shirt - one that is the same as the one from 7x06.

There is a lot at play with this black shirt, and a lot at play with black on Eddie more widely, but first up - The Christopher watch. It was so very present in this episode - the shirt cuff has been tucked underneath the watch to ensure that it is visible - because they want to ensure that we see that Christopher is still front and centre in Eddies mind through all of this - it is an indicator that Eddie is not dating any of these women for himself - they are all in one way or another for Chris.

The clincher on the watch front is that the first time we see it is when he goes on his first date with Ana - the first time he is trying to 'recapture' the magic he had with Shannon and the first time he starts dating to try and give Chris a mother figurre. The fact it is so present when he goes back to the store to see Kim the Shannon doppelgänger is proof enough that this is as much about Chris as it is Eddie - the ghost of Shannon continues to loom large in both of their lives and Eddie is very much still trying to find her again for the both of them.

The other - slightly more unhinged aspect of this is that he wears the Christopher watch out to his date with Kim later on - making it still about Christopher. The reason this is unhinged is that the one time we have seen Eddie go out on something resembling a date and not wear the Christopher watch was the poker night with Buck - I said at the time the fact that both Eddie and buck were wearing new watches was important - here we start to see its significance play out - that poker night was for Eddie (and Buck), not for Christopher in any way - if Marisol or Kim were meant to be endgame or even truly long term - then he would be wearing that watch on his dates with one of them - the fact he hasn't speaks volumes (and speaks volumes for the buddie of it all!).

the shirt itself being worn for this meeting and coming off the back of two key scenes in 7x06 tells its own story. Whilst Bucks coming out to Eddie scene is about his coming out, it is also about establishing Eddie not knowing/realising that Tommy was gay, as well as about the idea of

His wearing it to reverse his relationship with Marisol back to them not living together - to start over is obvious - the magic with her wasn't magicking, but because of his determination (subconsciously) to find a mother for Chris he rewinds rather than ending the relationship. This remains the key scene for this shirt in that episode and ties into his wearing it in this one - its all about rewinding the clock and trying again.

The thing with Eddie in black (apart from the singlets which are their own themed thing - although it still ties into the wider Eddie in black theme) is that its a colour he has worn so specifically in relation to his mental health and in connection with Christopher (and Shannon).

I'm not going to go through every instance of him wearing black - it would take way to long, but I am going to pick out a few key moments when he is wearing it - specifically shirts

2x17 - the reproposal/ divorce scene 3x12 - parent teacher night at school - mets Ana for the first time 3x15 - Christopher birth (flash back scene) 4x13 - follow your heart not Christophers scene 5x01 - Panic attack scene 5x10 - tells Carla about the hostage situation - after Chris's meltdown 5x17 - Ramons retirement party

We also have him in 6x11 in his widows weeds at Bucks bedside and in 6x17 a long sleeved waffle tee when he 're' meets Marisol at the DIY store

In regards to Marisol - he has worn black more than any other colour in relation to her (not that they've had many scenes together, but half of their scenes have been in black, and that includes their 're' meeting in the hardware store - not technically their first meeting, but Eddie was in uniform the first time they met.

The black is playing two roles with Eddie - there is the fact that it has duel meaning - it is associated with magic - specifically dark magic as well as darkness/depression, secrets and power. I know I haven't listed all of the scenes he wears black and long sleeves above - but the fact that those scenes I've listed are so very central to Eddie, fatherhood and the various women in his life is pretty telling. The fact that both Ana and Marisol were both met in scenes where he was in black or that so many of the other scenes were connected to pivotal moments in his relationships with all three women (Shannon, Ana and Marisol) - in the same way the the dark green has been for Buck - and the fact that so many of the scenes tie into the theme of his heart and not following it plays into this idea that he is in mourning - that his grief is central to all of these relationships - and that includes this new one with Kim.

Setting his first meeting (as in actual conversation) with Kim against this backdrop of his previous relationships, grief and his 'struggle's with fatherhood (including his relationship with his own father) sets this relationship off on the wrong foot regardless of the cheating aspect or the fact she is Shannons doppelgänger.

Sorry, both the pictures from 7x07 have terrible lighting - it was basically impossible to get a good still of either shirt that showed off the colour!!!! I am however obsessed with the choice to put Eddie in maroon twice in this episode - and in long sleeves at that!

The reason for my obsession - the way it plays into yet another Christopher theme. Eddie wearing Maroon long sleeved shirts (espeically Henleys) in relation to Christopher and his choices as a parent. So in this Episode it happens twice - we have his meal in the Diaz kitchen with Marisol, and then at the end of the Episode - his date with Kim - While neither scene directly involves Chris, both play into this idea of everything Eddie does in terms of his relationships in connected to Chirs - he daydreams about bringing Shannon back into Christophers life - in a better more honest way than he actually managed to do in the real world (proof of his rose tinted glasses being firmly on when it comes to Shannon) - righting the wrongs he feels he did her, then later on he drops Chris off with Buck (the other actual parental figure in Chris's life) before going on a secret date wit ha woman who looks like Shannon and Eddie is viewing as a second chance - a second chance not just for himself, but also for Chris - because Chris is missing his mom - something the show established early on in the season and the trigger that is sending Eddie into this current spiral.

All of the scenes Eddie has worn this colour in previously (by this I mean without the presence of other colours via jackets etc) - and they're aren't that many - are deeply connected to Chris and Eddies struggles with fatherhood.

We have this scene from 2x10 when Chris confesses his Christmas wish is to have his mom back - which leads to Eddie feeling guilty about his choices as a father and ultimately leads to Shannons return to Christophers life.

then we have Fight club Eddie in the aftermath of nearly killing a man from 3x08 - This is the only other time we see him in a Henley and the fact that the conversation he has with Bobby is so heavily intertwined with the concept of Eddie needing to be in control for Christopher - he is once again at the heart of the scene, even in his physical absence from it. It is also turning out to be an even more key scene - Bobby makes the all important comment

'Eddie I just want to make sure you don't think you have to lose everything, before you can allow yourself to feel anything'

this line is very much coming into play now - Eddie did not listen to Bobbys advice and is now setting himself on a course to lose everything. That implies that he will then finally start to feel things - able to move past his continued grief and build a future for himself. The overarching implication is that Eddie has remained in fight club mode since this scene - just that the fight club is internalised and with himself - his failings as a husband and father.

Chris goes off to summer camp in 3x18 - again a scene about Chris and Eddies role as father

and finally his first date with Ana - this scene while not obviously about Chris in the moment - is in fact all about Chris - we see it borne out over the course of Eddies relationship with Ana, but the key factor is that this is the first time we see Eddie wearing a different watch to his work watch - a second watch - his Christopher watch - which I explained the significance of above.

I've also included this tee from 6x12 because although it has short sleeves rather than long ones, it is adjacent to all of the above - he is making Christophers lunch while he and Buck talk later on after Buck has enjoyed his nap on Eddies couch, but it is also the closest they have come to talking about the will. Eddie is also not wearing a watch at all at this point - in a precursor to the poker date two episodes later, this moment - about letting yourself feel things rather than boxing them up inside feels like a key counterpoint to the reality of Eddies arc for this season.

The other thing about the red shirt black jacket combination along with all the above, is that it also juxtaposes the date with Vanessa that Pepa set him up on - the idea of wanting to be on a date versus not wanting to be on a date, whilst also ensuring black is a central theme with Eddies costuming arc this season.

Thats all for this week - Sorry again that it took so long to get written and posted - but I hope you enjoyed it none the less!

Tagged people below!

@theladyyavilee @mistmarauder @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @bewilderedbuckley @spotsandsocks

@bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @rogerzsteven @wanderingwomanwondering

@oneawkwardcookie @leothil @copyninjabuckley @shammers86 @crazyfangirlallert @missmagooglie @katyobsesses

@radiation-run @gayandbifiremenofmine @bi-moonlight @crazyaboutotps @princesschez75 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@sherlocking-out-loud @satashiiwrites @lover-of-mine @yramesoruniverse @extasiswings @favouritealias @pop-kam @b-dwolf @maygrcnt

#kym costume meta #911 costume meta #911 costumes #911 colour theory #911 abc #eddie diaz #evan buckley #marisol nolastname #Kim #shannon Diaz #maddie buckley #christopher diaz #hen wilson #off to lie down after the struggle that writing this one was!#I hope the tagging works - its being weird again - grrrr to the tumblr gremlins!

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hikari-kaitou · 1 year

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Translation from Gyakuten Saiban Fan Book

What sort of person is Phoenix Wright?!

How does the producer of the trilogy, Mr. Inaba, view the main character, Phoenix Wright? And what about the character designer, Mr. Iwamoto, who voiced Wright's rival, Miles Edgeworth? What's his opinion on the matter?

Mr. Inaba's comments

Interviewer: I'd like to ask you about what type of guy you think Wright is. Let's start with his birthday.

Inaba: Wright always seems chipper, so perhaps he was born in the spring?

Iv: That might be why that pink sweater suited him so well (lol). What about his living situation?

Ia: I feel like Maya probably swipes the money he makes at his law firm, so Wright is poor. He probably lives in a really basic apartment.

Iv: So his cell phone is probably not the latest model, but rather…

Ia: It's probably a previous generation one that he's used for a long time. Like one of the ones with a green display (lol). He can't afford a new one.

Iv: He's very working class, then (lol).

Ia: I definitely think he is. There's no doubt in my mind. He's got no money. I don't even want to imagine a posh Wright (lol).

Iv: How mean (lol). If he's really that low on funds, then I imagine he doesn't have much money to spare on hobbies.

Ia: He doesn't seem like the type to be particularly interested in music, and since he's poor, he probably can't afford CDs. If he does listen to music, it's probably just whatever is playing on the radio as he hangs out at the fishing pond.

Iv: So you see him as the type of guy who goes to the fishing pond?

Ia: if he did fish as a hobby, I can see him doing it in a pond or something. He's definitely not the sport fishing type.

Iv: You make him sound like he has a typical working class, chill lifestyle.

Ia: I don't see him as the type to spend most of his time indoors though. He probably plays catch or walks his dog… I think that kind of thing suits him best.

Iv: His dog is a mutt, of course?

Ia: Probably a mix of Japanese breeds. He either found the dog abandoned somewhere, or it just happened to wander into his office, or Maya forced it on him so he ended up keeping it.

Iv: Last question: what do you think Wright's type is?

Ia: Probably the dominant type. After all, he dated Dahlia and worked for Mia (lol).

Mr. Iwamoto's comments

Iv: So about Wright's birthday, when do you think it is?

Iwamoto: Maybe in May? I think it'd be funny if it were the same as Takumi-san's. Maybe his blood type and birthplace are the same as Takumi-san's too?

Iv: Inaba-san had an image of Wright consistent with a working class guy, but what do you think?

Iw: No objections (lol). He doesn't seem like he'd spend much money on his clothes. At the very least, I think he has the type of personality where it wouldn't be unusual to see him outdoors.

Iv: It's hard to imagine him wearing expensive brand-name outfits, isn't it?

Iw: He probably wears jeans, but not like the vintage kind. He probably sleeps in a t-shirt and boxers. Come to think of it, Suekane-san doodled Wright in a sweatshirt once, so he might be the type to wear sweatshirts.

Iv: So what about sports?

Iw: Maybe field soccer? If you put the word "field" in front of a sport, it sounds more working class. Like "field baseball."

Iv: He sounds totally working class, just like Inaba-san's image. Do you think he gets together with a bunch of friends and plays a rowdy game of field soccer?

Iw: I wonder. Wright seems like the type of guy who doesn't have a lot of friends somehow. His only soccer buddy is Larry Butz, so he plays just with him. They'd be like "You play goalie next, ok?" They'd take turns doing penalty shootouts… jeez, that's depressing (lol). In contrast to Wright, Larry seems like he'd be more shy around other people. He probably doesn't remember any of those people's names (lol).

Iv: In terms of physical build, Wright has more of a swimmer's body than a soccer player body. His shoulders are broad.

Iw: Suekane-san drew him pretty burly in the first game, didn't she? I tried to keep that image when I drew him. But if you really want to know what Wright's body type is like, you can find out by having Takumi-san strip for you (lol). I think Wright is highly influenced by Takumi-san himself.

Edgeworth version

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #my translation #atsushi inaba #tatsurou iwamoto

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wrathofrats · 1 month

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Seeing blind (you’re too good to be all mine)

Chapter 1, read under the cut or on ao3

Big big huge iconic thank you to @divine-misfortune bc he literally has written half of it in my DMs so thank him for this being an actual thing now

1.8k, Teen and up, no warnings apply. It’s just set up for right now.

“Well it turns out I work here” Swiss laughed. Rain glared at him for his dumb answer. He was cute in a handsome way. Locs pulled back into a bun with a bright smile. “Thought you knew that rain, especially since you knew my name”

Rain shouldn’t be looking this hard at him.

Or this is the farm au from that post the other day. Except it’s now going to be a fully chaptered fic

Rains never been much for dirt. It sticks to his skin and his clothes and just makes him feel grimy whenever he has to come in contact with it. Most jobs he had to do he’s able to avoid it, his dad always resigns him to simple things like picking some of the produce to set aside or checking on the animals or grabbing a tractor when he needs it. Easy, enough to claim he’s helping out but not too much to where he would have to talk to anyone or get his favorite sweaters stained.

The small orchard was always the prettiest during this time of year. Late September with the trees starting to turn and apples clinging to their branches. It was his favorite small task, just to gather some of the ripe ones to take inside. His mother always saves some of the produce for her own kitchen.

Rain studied a couple, his mom was very particular about which ones she wanted. A couple she could use now and a couple that would ripen in a few days so she could eat them fresh. She liked to stake her claim before they had to harvest the rest to sell.

“Don’t force it, if it doesn’t come off easily it’s not ready yet” said a voice from behind him. Rain whipped around to see one of the farm hands standing behind him, his hands in his jean pockets and dust smeared on his cheek with a wide grin.

“What are you doing over here swiss” he asked. His voice was a little cold without it meaning to be. He wasn’t exactly supposed to talk to the workers. His dad always told him to leave them alone. He wanted them to work, not chat, besides he’s heard the banter from inside the barn and the conversations were something he didn’t want rain around. Rain always thought it was a bit dumb, but he would listen in respect for the rules anyways.

Rain shouldn’t be looking this hard at him. Quickly he turned to reach for a different apple, feeling pleased when it came off easily into the palm of his hand.

“Of course I knew your name, but I meant why are you in my space”

“Boss asked me to make sure you were picking the right ones. Said the Mrs gets real particular about her fruit” Swiss walked to stand next to the tree, studying the apples before grabbing one and throwing it into the basket.

“I appreciate it but I don’t need the help. You can go back to whatever you were doing” rain moved the basket to the arm furthest away from Swiss. He had gathered a couple, enough to tide his mother over for a day or two. Swiss gave a low whistle before moving off of the tree and walking back towards the barn.

“Well if you ever do need my help, you know where to find me”

Rain didn’t respond. He just continued his walk back to the house with his basket. He didn’t talk to anyone that often, only speaking to mountain when he needed something off a high shelf. He was sweet, one of the favorites along with cirrus, always helpful and hardworking. His dad didn’t speak much of Swiss, must be because he stays out of trouble. If his dad was talking about any of his employees it was only if they were stellar workers or trouble makers like Dew. But Swiss? Never came up often.

He was thinking about him a little too much. The stubble on his chin and the way he had his flannel sleeves rolled up and-

Rain had to stop. This was madness. A two second interaction and now he has to act like he’s losing his mind. Maybe he was just stir crazy, being home from college was lonely and now he had to behave like he’s never had a friend in his life.

He threw the basket on the table with a call to his mom before heading back outside. He was sure there was more to do, and it was always safer to ask instead of getting a lecture.

The barn door was heavy, probably easy for everyone who was conditioned for it but for rain it always made him struggle. He tried not to be in there often, it smelled weird and there was always someone in it which rain tried to avoid, but he didn’t see his father in the field, so he had to assume he was in there.

“Need some help?” Swiss grabbed right above rains hand on the handle, giving it a good yank to help the process.

“I don’t need your help. Didn’t we already discuss this?” rain crossed his arms in front of him, giving Swiss a look.

“Then I apologize, assumed you just came over here because you missed me”

There was a pull in rains stomach. Again, stupid. He tried to ignore it and place blame on just being lonely as he did earlier. Sure Swiss was handsome but he felt annoyed by his presence more than anything, as he did with most people.

“Nope, just a coincidence. Looking for my father if you would excuse me” rain gave a peek inside before turning on his heel.

“Left for a bit, took mountain into town I believe. Should be back soon. You’re more than welcome to sit with me and wait on him” Swiss gave him a wide polite smile.

“I’ll pass.” Rain shoved the door closed while Swiss watched him struggle, and walked back to the house.

The small behaviors start to become a bad habit that rain swears up and down is not on purpose. He’s always just coincidentally in the barn when Swiss walks in to get more feed, or is grabbing a piece of equipment that Swiss somehow needs the one right next to it. Every interaction ends with a dumb comment about how often he’s around and rain feeling like he’s going crazy once again.

“Don’t have to be embarrassed, I think it’s cute how you always want to be around me” Swiss teased, hoisting a bag of feed over his shoulder.

“It’s just a coincidence.” Rain rolled his eyes “don’t get an ego”

The wind gets colder as they head deeper into October. A shift in the light warm summer sun into the orange chill of fall. Swiss never changes, not that rain had been paying attention, but he wore mostly the same things every day. Jeans and some random worn t shirt. Surely great to work in but with the weather he always wondered how he was holding up. Hell, rain wore sweaters even when it was 70 outside, let alone when it’s now dropping into the 50s.

Swiss always takes his breaks in the loft of the barn. Old hay and a couple lanterns, the small amount of rising heat made it more comfortable.

Before rain left the house for the day he grabbed an old sweatshirt from the laundry, something his dad won’t miss. Even if Swiss gets on his nerves he at least has the decency to not want to watch him freeze.

Swiss gave him a wave when he walked into the barn, tilting his head as rain climbed up the ladder to stand next to him.

“Here, you looked cold” rain threw the sweatshirt at him before turning to get back down.

“No wait, you came all this way, sit with me for a while”

Rain shouldn’t. If he was caught they’d both be in trouble. But Swiss has two apples and a nice smile and even after the past month of trying to avoid him, it’s hard to say no to such an offer. Just a couple minutes, it can’t hurt.

“Your mothers right. The apples always taste better ripe right off the tree. You could wait and have them inside but I swear it’s not the same” Swiss said, taking another bite.

“Are you allowed to be stealing produce sir? We use that to afford your paycheck”

Swiss gives him a laugh, looking at him. He never took too much time to study him before, always being shoved away and told to leave the premises. He was cute, messy hair and a sweater a size too big. Boyish charm to the farmers son.

Swiss slices another piece of the apple with his pocket knife and pops it into his mouth. Rain watches his hands, a little too fixated on the veins and tendons that move with the blade.

“Well, you can keep a secret can’t you?”

“Only if you let me taste whatever you’re talking about”

There was a pause. Both just taking in each other. Sure they had seen each plenty before but it was different this time, something more casual to the interaction that put rain at ease.

Swiss leans forward, waiting for a hint of hesitation before placing his lips on rains. They slot together with little effort as rain gives a small gasp at the surprise. Swiss was right, it does taste sweeter, the juice still lingering as he kisses rain.

Rain can’t help but to melt, he leans forward much more desperately than he should while his brain works on autopilot from the touch. He let’s Swiss place a hand on his cheek and play with the bit of hair on the nape of his neck before his brain can catch up to him and realize this is wrong. He’s not supposed to be doing this, he shouldn’t even be up there with him and god he should’ve known it was a mistake to even play this stupid game to begin with.

Abruptly Swiss is pushed away. Rains cheeks are flushed, his lips a pretty shade of pink and he’s breathing heavily. He stared at him for a second before shoving the sweatshirt into Swiss’ hands and scrambling to get up and move towards the ladder. It’s his first kiss. Rain had his first kiss and barely even knows this guy and he doesn’t know what to make of any of it. Embarrassment floods his face as he makes his way back to the house. He can’t tell Swiss that, he can’t blame his fumbling on the fact that he’s a sheltered loser after playing cat and mouse for a month.

Swiss’ head spins. Rain kissed him back, that has to mean something right? He stayed, he let him move towards him and he kissed him back. Even worse the fact that he has to assume it’s the first time rains ever done anything like that. He’s sheltered and clumsy and Swiss feels a little bad doing that to him, but the feeling is shoved aside by the need to do it over and over again.

There’s a selfish feeling that bubbles up inside of him. He wants to be all of his first, claim them as his. He’s greedy and he knows that and it’s scary because Swiss has never felt something like this.

#I’m so excited to post this finally no one understands #there’s so much more that’s been written I hope everyone’s excited #the band ghost #ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #fanfic #swiss ghoul #wrath writes #rain ghoul

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thursdaygxrls · 9 months

Text

thin ice — four

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary — kitty is yet again dragged to a social gathering she would rather not attend. the bait this time? weed!

paring — uni hockey player!peter parker x fem!(journalist)!reader

disclaimer — who is expecting me to own peter parker by now?? bc i don’t

warnings — reader is referred to as ‘kitty,’ weed, slightly inexperienced reader (experienced peter, no smut yet im sorry), possible ooc

Days like these were the ones Kitty craved: hazy, chilly spring weather that resembled fall, except that dying leaves were replaced by cherry-red buds, and flowers bloomed through blades of grass. It was one of those days with no responsibilities to fill her precious hours—the ones that were spent scrolling through Pinterest and reading. She was stretched haphazardly along her bed, still dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in the armpits. The blinds were still closed, so the sudden beam of light next to her startled her.

“You love interrupting my dark-dwelling time,” she hissed as MJ entered the room. Sticking out her tongue, MJ closed the door behind her and sealed off the obnoxious light, much to Kitty’s relief.

“I’m sorry, my sun-hating princess,” MJ spoke dramatically as she rummaged through her bag, “But, I come bearing gifts.”

At this, Kitty perked up, swiping out of Project Makeover and sitting up to devote her full attention to her roomate. From her bag, MJ produced two plastic-wrapped chocolate-chip cookies and tossed them to bed. The girl pounced on them, immediately tearing into the plastic on one of the packs.

“I forgive you,” she said before biting into the treat.

“Thank God,” MJ replied in dramatic relief. Ease settled over the room as MJ removed her jacket and went about unpacking her things. Kitty, now finished with her first cookie, tossed the used plastic to the trash can across the room (and missed horribly).

“What’ve you been up to this lovely Friday?” She asked her freckled friend, who was currently changing out of her cable knit sweater.

“Oh, you know, class,” MJ responded as she slid a Stevie Nicks shirt over her head, “Some people still have class on Fridays.”

“That must be heartbreaking,” Kitty hummed sarcastically, “Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah,” MJ’s movements were smooth as she went through her bag, “I had lunch with Harry after class.”

“Was the dining hall romantic?” Kitty questioned with a smile.

“Totally,” MJ responded with a laugh, “The black-bean burgers are basically aphrodisiacs. Anyways, he invited us out to Hot Rock around eight, so I was thinking we could get dinner–”

“No, thanks,” Kitty intercepted, bringing her legs up closer to her torso and flattening her lips to a line, “I’m not leaving the dorm today.”

“If you had it your way, you’d do that every day,” MJ groaned.

“And?’ Kitty quirked a brow, causing another grumble to leave her counterpart.

“Do you realize how much I say ‘no’ to stuff?” She continued, “‘Kitty, wanna go to a hockey game?’ No. ‘Kitty, wanna go to a frat party?’ No. Our entire relationship exists on the basis of you wanting to do stuff and me trying to refuse.”

“But you still went,” MJ raised her brows hopefully, “To both things. And it’s not like it’s just going to be Harry, he said some other people would be there.”

“Oh, great, other people, you know how much I love social gatherings where I don’t know anyone.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“You know Peter,” MJ suggested. Kitty hadn’t seen Peter in a while. ‘A while,’ in her case, was a week. She’d gotten some semi-regular texts from him (cat memes and open invites to hang out) but hadn’t seen him since the frat party.

“Is it the best use of their time to be at Hot Rock when the semi-finals are two days away?” Kitty asked.

“No, probably not, but,” MJ’s smile, which had been dimming, came back with full vibrance, “But we can reap the benefits of their deviant behavior.”

“Are the benefits better than chocolate chip cookies?” She hummed.

“Pre-rolls and a bong,” MJ wiggled her fingers in a tamer version of jazz hands. Kitty seemed to deflate with a loud sigh.

“I hate that you make me do things.”

Hot Rock existed on the older, suburban side of campus. Right behind one of the major dining halls was a small, hidden space that hit the blind spot of the security cameras in the area. It wasn’t a rock so much as an artificial slab of stone with a metal pipe attached that spewed hot steam. It was connected to the heating system in the dining hall, but also served as a popular spot for stoners. A few of these man-made smoke spots were scattered around campus, but this one was the most popular, mainly because this rock was always much hotter than the others.

Kitty’s breath appeared in small puffs in the night air and she and MJ walked around the corner of the dining hall. It was spring, and the weather was getting warmer, but there was still a bit of frost. As they shuffled down a small slope, the rock revealed itself, decorated with about four people, one of them being Harry.

“MJ!” He nearly fell over himself scrambling towards the pair. He pressed a small kiss to her lips and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. MJ giggled, choosing to ignore Kitty’s gagging face.

“Kitty-cat!” Harry directed his grinning face to her, “I’m so glad MJ got you out of your tree.”

“I almost wish you’d just call me ‘bitch’ instead of that,” she replied. Harry, not losing any vigor, laughed.

“I know what you need.” He wagged his brows as he reached into the breast pocket of his flannel. He produced a mini pre-rolled joint with a proud grin, “Kitty needs her catnip.”

“I’m gonna let that one slide,” she said, and he simply chuckled. His eyes moved from hers, and somehow his impossibly bright smile widened. Kitty turned and was met with a familiar pair of hazel eyes.

“I’m a big fan of catnip, too,” Peter grinned, sliding down to meet the rest of the group.

“Hey, Peter,” Harry let go of MJ for a moment to give Peter a half-hug. Peter’s eyes, however, never let go of Kitty. He held her gaze with ease.

“Can we sit? My ass is cold,” MJ grumbled lightly as Harry took his post next to her.

“Of course, of course,” was Harry’s hurried reply. The four found spots on the rock, Harry returning to his original spot and taking MJ with him. Kitty settled in a small nook where the slab met a natural rock formation, and, as if she was a magnetic pole, Peter sat next to her. A few awkward introductions were shared with the others at the rock, though, it was clear they were all at least a few hits into Harry’s pre-rolls.

“So,” Peter’s voice cracked through the silence, “We keep finding each other, don’t we?”

“You keep finding me,” Kitty corrected.

“Same difference,” he shrugged. Wordlessly, he slipped his backpack from his shoulder and set it down in front of him. He worked in surprising order as he removed the items: a grinder, a small, rolled-up plastic bag, a green bong that had seen better days.

“Are student athletes supposed to be smoking?” She asked. For once, his gaze wasn’t focused on her, but on the contents before him.

“Helps with nerves,” he said, grabbing the baggy, “It’s medical, y’know.”

“Hm, I bet,” she replied. He worked with diligence: his long, slender fingers plucked a chunk of bud from the bag and trapped it in the grinder. The sleeves of his black long sleeve were rolled up, revealing his wrist that tensed lightly when he ground the bud. She’d never quite noticed how strong his hands looked—veiny and taught, likely from the hours upon hours of hockey practice. Then came the realization that she was staring, which pulled her attention away from him and to the others on the rock. Though there weren’t many people, pockets of conversation were created: MJ and Harry, who were cuddled up and passing a joint, two other members of the hockey team and a girl with shaggy blonde hair, and, of course, her and Peter.

“Alright,” Peter hummed in satisfaction as he packed the bowl. He grabbed a red lighter from the front pocket of his jeans and finally looked at Kitty. He held the bong out for her with one of those easy, boyish smiles, “Wanna do the honors, Y/n?”

Peter seemed to be good at evoking emotions from her. Annoyance, frustration, confusion, and now, prickly embarrassment. She licked her lips, looking from the bong and back to him.

“Um,” she let out a small cough, “I’m…not sure how to?”

She wasn’t new to smoking. There was the occasional joint she and MJ would indulge in, or maybe she would take a hit off cart at one of the parties she was dragged to. She’d just hadn’t gotten the chance to hit a bong before—a fact that didn’t bother her until she was here, staring at Peter. She hated her reply and the way she stumbled with her words. She hated that she had nothing better to say. She hated that she had released blood into the water.

“You haven’t done this before?” He grinned. Her jaw clenched at the way he said that. Kitty, in response, sucked her teeth.

“Have you never smoked before?” He cocked his head.

“No, I have, just not this,” she sighed, a slight aggravated clip to her words. Peter must’ve noticed because his gloating grin softened.

“That’s alright,” his voice was more mellow now, “That’s okay, everyone has a first time.”

This persona, the calmer one he adapted when he knew she was getting pissed off, may have pissed her off even more. If he wasn’t being an asshole, it was harder to be annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with him, which made her annoyed with herself.

“Okay,” she said, a cleansing breath of chilled spring air filling her lungs.

“Okay?” He repeated, “You want to try?”

Kitty glanced at MJ and Harry. They weren’t doing anything graphic, but they were still all over each other, giggling and whispering. She turned back to Peter and nodded.

“You sure?” He raised a brow.

“Gimme,” she groaned, taking the glass bong from his hands. He let out a small, breathy chuckle and nodded.

“Okay, so,” he sat up, “I’m gonna light it, you breathe in through the mouth right here. I’ll pull the bowl for you and you keep breathing in, okay?”

Kitty nodded, her lips descending on the mouthpiece. A sudden flash of panic struck her as he flicked the lighter. Did she look stupid? Was she being stupid? Why did she care? Peter lit the bowl, and she did as he said, sucking in a deep drag. The bong bubbled to life and milky smoke flooded the tube.

“Good, good,” Peter encouraged as he pulled the bowl, “Keep sucking in—there you go, just like that.”

She’d been doing fine until he’d spoken. His words, meant as innocent encouragement, sent blood rushing to her face. Her scalp burned as her head reared back and ragged coughs escaped her. Smoke left her lips in puffs, like dust being stirred from an old book. Peter patted her back with one hand and rummaged through his bag with another.

“That happens,” he spoke, unphased by her continuous coughing. He took a metal water bottle decorated in stickers in various states of wear from his bag and unscrewed the lid.

“Here, drink,” he brought it to her lips and she immediately sucked down the water. It was cold against her burning throat. She focused on how cool it was, hoping it would also subdue the burning in her face. A few gulps later, Kitty was back to a semi-normal state. She took in deep breaths, swirling in oxygen with the cannabis in her lungs.

“That was a big-ass hit. Good job,” Peter chuckled, “When was the last time you smoked?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? And thank you,” Kitty replied. There wasn’t a hint of snark in her words, which was highly unusual. The afterburn of her influx of new feelings was still there.

“That oughta do it,” he took the bong from her, “I mean, you can totally have more, but your tolerance is probably pretty low, and the hit you just took looked more like three.”

“Yeah, that oughta do it,” she coughed out. He eyed her, suspicious of her lack of sass, before lighting the bowl for himself.

The bong caught up with her within ten minutes. There was a low vibration in her body, one that pulsed in her fingertips and warmed her. Her vision was a bit more narrow now, like she was viewing movie through her vision. Her mind bubbled, and when her eyes caught a glimpse of the sky, she leaned back with astonished glee.

It wasn’t often that you saw stars in the sky on this side of New York. Usually, the city lights blocked out anything non-artificial. But here, a mile or so away from the more prominent lights, she was able to see the glimmer of distant stars. It was captivating, really, and she could’ve stared at them for hours. Maybe she did. People buzzed around her without her recognition. Even Peter seemed to settle into a comfortable silence next to her.

“Do you remember that one episode of Hannah Montana where Miley moves into a new house and there’s a pizza oven? Like, one of those wood ovens you put pizza in. A pizza oven? Yeah?” She asked, glancing in Peter’s direction. He seemed to only slightly register the question before looking at her with a cocked brow.

“No,” he replied.

“Oh,” she hummed, “What about the one where—it’s the third episode, I think—the one where Oliver—no, it’s the second episode—the one where Oliver is in love with Hannah Montana, but he doesn’t know it’s Miley, so Miley and Lilly are like ‘oh, no!’”

“No,” he repeated. His voice wasn’t harsh, though. It was soft, maybe even curious.

“It’s good,” she said, “Real good. Real good.”

It was around then that the stars began to lull her to sleep. There was something comfortable about this moment: the heat of the rock, the stars, the weed in her system. She drifted off for a moment and was quickly awoken by a gentle shake.

“Y/n?” Peter called lightly, “Are you sleepy?”

His hand was on her arm. His hand was on her arm. Her eyes settled on that before she could even begin to process his words. His hand was lovely, truly, with its web of veins, the slender fingers that warmed her skin. She looked up to him and smiled.

“Hey!” Was her cheery reply. He laughed at this and nodded. Kitty cocooned inside herself once more as he turned away and called out to someone on the other side of the rock. She heard Harry, then MJ, then Peter again. It sounded like hearing a foreign language as the spoke.

“Would you like to sleep in your bed instead of this rock?” Peter asked. Kitty, still cocooned, sprung forward a bit.

“Yes,” she responded confidently. He couldn’t help but smile at her tone. He packed away his bag swiftly and stood, offering a hand to Kitty.

“You think I can’t stand up? Oh, I can stand up—I’m an olympic stander,” she mumbled, rejecting his hand. This side of her was something Peter had never experienced. He was used to snippy comments and sharp replies, but the inebriated, bumbling Kitty was an entirely different person. He liked it. A lot.

They began their trek back to Kitty’s dorm in silence. It was comfortable like this: quiet interrupted by the occasional off-key hum by the girl. It wasn’t a very far walk, only five minutes or so, and when they reached the front, Peter’s tight grin loosened a bit.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hand gently catching her arm. In this state, she wasn’t able to deny the electric current that was sent through her nervous system. Kitty shivered as she met his eyes.

“I know you’re not in the right headspace for this, so I’ll ask you again later, but…” he trailed off. He looked away from her, and she caught the way his throat bobbed slightly. This lasted for only a moment before he was making eye contact again, “Do you wanna come to semis?”

That wasn’t the question she expected. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Instead of responding, she stared blankly at him.

“It’s not here, it’s actually kind of far away,” he was rambling now, “Well, not super far, it’s in New Jersey. It’s sort of late notice, so I know you might not want to go, and you have your own shit to worry about, too, so—”

“This is very weird,” Kitty interrupted.

“What?” Peter stopped, looking to her with a quirked brow.

“You’re acting nervous and talking a lot. Weird,” she said.

“Yeah, well, I am nervous, and I’m a little high, and you’re really hot, so there’s just a lot going on up here.” He gestured to his head. Her eyes were blank for several seconds before they sparked in recognition.

“Oh—oh.” Her expression changed rapidly, eventually landing on something akin to realization. Silence swelled between them for a moment before it was broken by one word: “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Peter repeated.

“Maybe,” she nodded in agreement. His lips tugged into a boyish smile once more.

“Okay, Y/n,” he grinned, “Maybe.”

a/n — (in the voice of that one meme) heyy….how y’all doin??? okay so im sorry that this update is months late, college has been a lot. it’s been fun tho!! like, i think im the happiest ive ever been. anyways, im sorry if this update doesn’t fit as well with the others, im trying to get back into the groove of writing, forgive me 🙏 love u guys!!

taglist

@reidslovely @awezomezauce @tarzinnia @fr3akho3 @multilovebot @collywobbl @naok-iyuu @kay-i-guess @littlexscarletxwitch @ujimoo

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