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#they're such an instant inspo!!
caroll-in · 1 year
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inspired by this post by @incorrect-ghostsoap-quotes 💀🧼
more of my CoD art | Twitter | Insta | Ko-fi | Commissions
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koostarcandy · 1 year
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heart ache
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summary: a night where jungkook's back from a tiring day and you admire the tiniest of details.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: just fluff, there's nothing else going on here :P
a/n: these night thingies are becoming frequent now :] i hope you enjoy them anyway ^^ @yoursalaciouspizza here's what we were talking about and inspo from this moodboard by @httphyunjiin :D oktyily byeeeeeeeee <3
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"how about one more kiss? looks sad, koo."
"it's just a bruise, baby. how about you have a bite of this pancake before my hand falls off?"
that would be really sad, you note. you oblige and take a forkful of sweet, sugary pancake, paired with tart strawberries. you let out a satisfied sound at the taste, urging your love to have a taste. his concentrated eyes relax when they meet yours, crinkling at the corners at your content face.
"is everything okay? you seem abit off, love."
you rub the apple of his cheek with your free hand, the other gently feeding him your midnight pancakes. the whole situation may seem ridiculous, laughable even but pancakes at approximately 12.33 a.m, along with your cuddly boyfriend is the perfect fix after a long day.
jungkook makes you drop the fork, guiding your hands around his neck and wrapping his muscly ones around your waist. he nuzzles his face into your neck, his freshly washed hair tickling your chin. you run your fingers through the slightly damp locks, envious of his always shiny hair.
"drop your haircare routine already," you mumble, rubbing your fingers over his temples when he practically moans in relief. "i use whatever you use, baby. let me do your hair next time, hmm?" he replies in between the impromptu massage, hands sneaking under your oversized tshirt, splayed over your back like a splash of warmth.
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"everything hasn't been the best exactly but i still feel guilty," jungkook admits 3 pancakes in, head on your chest and hand over his filled tummy. "guilty? why?" you ask curiously, thumbs rubbing over his pink knuckles. "i'm not exactly underprivileged, you know? but there are days where i have to remind myself that people would actually kill to be where i am right now and have the things I want, it reminds me to not freak out over things like the wifi not working or something like that," he rambles, going on with saying that he reminds himself of his daily blessings despite going through harrowing times, never failing to feel grateful for everything he sees and gets. including you, he says sincerely.
"stressed but blessed seems like the appropriate title for what i'm feeling right now," jungkook chuckles, trying to melt further into you. you're silent, hands rubbing his back gently and playing with his hair. you've always admired him, for a variety of things. he's always been humble and gentle and kind, never failing to speak out a word or show a small action of gratitude for the most mundane of things you do for him. you got him that blueberry crumble from that place he really likes? he kisses your cheek and mumbles out 'thank you' like a prayer. you're still like a fluffy pillow, serving as a resting place for his tired head? he's on you in an instant, squeezing your waist in silent appreciation.
your eyes dart to his hand coming to your peripheral vision, brushing away your bangs. his sweet and hardworking hands. never failing to rub your back so you slip out of sleep's tight hold in the mornings, tying your hair into a bun when you get frustrated with it, handling you with the utmost care when you don't exactly feel your best. you take his large ones into your own, happy crescents meeting his when you place the smallest of kisses on his latest boxing bruise.
his sparkly eyes are tattooed to your brain, always making sure to bright up the darkest spots in your mind. they're the first thing you see in sleepy dawn and the last when you're finally in bed at late dusk. they always meet you in a room full of enigmatic eyes and yet they never fail to make you get lost in them. they provide you with the best comfort you can ever find, always losing yourself to their never ending warmth.
his strong arms squeeze around you when place a chaste kiss on his temple, feeling a smile in your neck. the arms which never fail to make you feel at home, snaking their way around you and making themselves comfortable. they sometimes serve as a mode of transport too, carrying you from the bedroom to the living room or when jungkook feels like you don't need to walk all the way to kitchen, picking you up and setting you on the counter. your hands slide to the pretty vines wrapped around you, tracing the intricate designs on his bicep.
everything about him, head to toe, every tiny mole to his boopable nose and his squishy cheeks, makes your heart ache in the most loving way possible. jungkook props his chin on your chest, head tilted to the side, wondering why you've been silent for the last half hour. your eyes are suddenly watering, hands flying to cover your face.
"darling? look at me, please. was it something i said? it wasn't offensive, right?"
you let out a watery laugh, fingers swiping at the underside of your eyes.
"you, it's you."
jungkook's even more confused now, sitting up and pulling you up with him. "but i'm your koo, baby, i can't make you cry. these are good tears, yes? please tell me they're happy tears."
you all but fall into him, hiding your face in his tshirt and letting your arms fall loosely around his lithe waist. "yes, koo, they're happy tears. i just love you too much," you say, going on to say it's the sugar talking and that in hindsight, sprinkling 145 grams of powdered sugar along with strawberry jam wasn't exactly the bestest midnight snack you've made so far. jungkook is quick to disagree, saying that what you did tonight was basically art.
"there you go again, baby, you do know that not everything i do is a work of art, right?"
"says the walking and talking masterpiece!"
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pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk
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luveline · 1 year
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maybe for zombie Steve au, there’s some sort of emergency at the college so there’s like a lockdown ish but Steve & reader get split up & then have an emotional reunion? 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
thank you so much for your request! I took a smide of inspo from scenes of twd (specifically when the prison fence gets it shit rocked) steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 5k words
"And you…" You pause, tongue sticking out as you struggle to tuck your shirt into your jeans. "You smoked?" 
Steve laughs where he's shrugging into his own jeans. You're both very late. 
"Everyone smoked junior year." 
"I didn't." 
"No, of course you didn't," he says, laughing more. It's a nice sound to hear so early in the morning. You can almost pretend you're well-rested. 
"I didn't," you say emphatically, leaning against the wall by the door to slip on your sneakers. 
It doesn't matter if you're telling the truth, Steve clearly doesn't believe you. He mirrors your actions and puts on his own pair of sneakers. They were white, once upon a time, but now they're a gritty grey. You stand tall in unison and pull open the door.
"Wait," Steve says. 
He brushes your hair out of your face, looking over each of your features casually before his fingers dip down to your belt. You startle on instinct, though he's only fixing the mess you'd made of your tucked shirt. His fingers push under your belt methodically, efficiently. In less than a minute he's done. 
Neither of you bother with a jacket. Steve pockets the keys and the door locks behind you, the two of you half jogging out of Little Hawkins to the front of the building. 
"I'll be at the north fence all day, okay, so if you need me, come and find me. You're–" 
"In the pantry where I always am," you say, "and I'll be fine, so you don't let anything bite you and I'll see you at dinner." 
"Wait, wait, wait," Steve says, catching your wrist before you can part ways. 
He pulls you in by the arm until he can grab your shoulders. He does altogether too much looking, eyes raking over your face, your neck. He meets your eyes, cups your cheek in both hands. 
"I love you," he says quickly, "I love you," —he kisses you wonky, lips way too close to your nose, "I love you. See you at dinner." 
He's sick in the head. He doesn't give you any time to answer or bestow the heaping of affection he deserves, simply splits and power walks away from you.
You sigh, wringing your hands together. "Steve! I– I love you too!" 
He turns around, his smile ridiculously big, and waves at you. You wave back. 
He races out of view. You try not to make eye contact with the people milling around outside of the dorm building and pick up the pace, running down the street to the cafeteria building. 
The town hall is alive in the mornings, and class is in session, more kids than you'd ever expected to see again in your lifetime all bundled up in one room. You think it's nice, the way they teach them here. They don't bother with algebra or arithmetic, though Sammy the 'teacher' offers tutoring to anybody who wants it, they just draw and play and talk about emotional wellbeing. Sometimes there are survival classes, but they don't really talk about geeks. They show the kids what wild flora is edible, or how to wrap a cut. You think it's probably more for routine than actual teaching. 
"Hi, Sammy," you say. 
She smiles, and you're horrified as she says, "Hi, baby. Class, say good morning." 
All the kids say good morning to you. You flush with heat from top to bottom. Their cute little faces beaming up at you is an instant disarming. 
"Hi, kids," you say, waving. 
Hands holding crayons and pencils wave back at you. 
You make your way into the kitchen, which is a huge industrial affair connected to an otherwise small cafeteria. Maybelle and Pauline are already inside cleaning up the leftover breakfast and preparing for community dinner. 
Breakfast is specifically for the people inside the community who can't manage to make it themselves, the disabled, the injured, the elderly, but dinner is for everybody. 
"Sorry I'm late," you say. 
"Hun, we don't care," Maybelle says. 
"Did you want breakfast?" Pauline asks. "I'm gonna wrap this up otherwise. Somebody's gonna eat it."  
It sounds like a threat. You take some of the breakfast they've set aside, which isn't a breakfast food at all, just boxed mac and cheese that tastes slightly stale. You barely notice it anymore, though the texture gives you the heebies. 
You move into the pantry and check everything still there, the easiest and most useless part of your job. Then, Maybelle and Pauline try to put together a meal that's both cost effective (the cost being the energy expended to retrieve the food, and the likelihood that this food will be seen again) and not disgusting. Oftentimes they have to make a bunch of different stuff that doesn't go together, but it's better than nothing. You like this a whole lot more than if they just gave everybody a can a day and said there's your lot. 
You mark down the things they've taken. You mark down things you might need in Hopper's next supply rub. It's a super cushy job, the kind that isn't strictly necessary, but there are a lot of people in the community and the majority are willing to do what needs to be done. They ran out of jobs quickly, and you're sure Hopper had felt a little sorry for you, so here you are. You're not like Steve. You're not a survivor. You're lucky. 
You sit down after a while, no use pretending you have anything left to do, left side pressed to the side of the industrial oven. 
"You know, we used to live in Mississippi?" Pauline asks you. 
"What?" you ask. 
"Mm-hm, we were only in Michigan for vacation, if you can believe it. We had a good time." 
"Before, the uh, the apocalypse," Maybelle says with a tittering laugh. "We were hiking in the Porcupine Mountains when some dude tried to bite me. We thought he had rabies." 
The room smells like jarred pasta bake, a rich, garlic-thick smell that threatens to make your eyes droop. In the cafeteria, through the open shutters, you can hear the kids singing. Sammy hates nursery rhymes, so they learn the words of old songs by Louis Armstrong. Today, they're a discordant, too fast chorus of What a Wonderful World. It's a racket.  
But no matter how loud the kids sings, they can't cover the reverberations of a gunshot. 
A hush falls in the kitchen.
You stand up. You aren't panicked, exactly. More like you've stepped into a heavy overcoat, trepidation a weight that settles like a second skin. You move to stand by the sink with Maybelle. She pushes it open, and the three of you stare outside. 
Trees rustle in the wind. The kids descend into giggles as Matthew, one of the rare teenagers who deigns to join in, busts out a Louis Armstrong impression, his voice deep and bending. The oven hums. 
The second gunshot sounds. After that, you can't count them. 
Maybelle slams the window closed and twists the handle down to lock it. 
Your heart beats. None of you know what to say. Your pulse bumps, and bumps, and bumps. 
"Lock the doors," Maybelle says. "Lock the windows. Just in case." 
Gunfire comes fast and ferocious as a sudden downpour, popping in the near distance. Your footsteps clip over the linoleum floor, firm rubber soles like an elastic band as you bound into the cafeteria and meet Sammy's eyes. 
The kids are perturbingly quiet. 
"I'm gonna lock the doors," you say tentatively. 
Dread fills her face. "Okay. Alright." 
You fizz around the room, locking the front and side entrances one after another. You're thinking so many things at once that you can't seem to focus on any, and instead your attention is drawn to the inconsequential. How cold the metal on the door's emergency push bars are. The colouring books on the floor. 
You're standing in front of the last door with shaking hands as it gets thrown open. You gasp and scrabble backwards, hands in front of your chest to protect yourself. 
It's Joyce. Breathless, red in the face Joyce. 
"Lock the kids in the kitchen," she says. "The north fence has a leak. They're getting in." 
Steve is not having the good day he thought he'd be getting. 
You'd been exceptionally pretty this morning, tired eyed and disorientated but adorable through and through. You and Steve have fallen into a routine, and you talk so much it's a surprise your throats aren't sore. There's so much to say and never enough time to say it; you've taken to trading stories in the morning while you get dressed. Today was Steve's turn. He'd told you all about his birthday party during junior year, how his dad had almost killed him because somebody left a hole in the wall, and how he still can't eat Dunkin' Donuts without feeling queasy. You'd asked him when the last time he actually got to eat a donut was, and it hadn't been sad, like you might expect. 
He'd said, "I don't need any extra sweetness, are you kidding? Got all my sugar right here." 
You'd laughed at him (not with him) and nearly choked on toothpaste. 
That's a perfect morning for Steve. That's as good as they get. It might be silly, but he'd felt damn good, and foolishly tricked himself into thinking the rest of the day might be similarly great. 
"You're a fool, Harrington," he mutters to himself. 
"What was that?" 
Steve looks up. Jonathan and Christopher are staring at him. 
"He's going crazy," Christopher says. "Best take him out to the back shed." 
"Funny." Steve kicks the dirt in front of him. "So bored I'm talking to myself," he admits. 
"It could be worse," Jonathan says. "We could be on latrine duty." 
Steve would rather not think about latrine duty. God bless the communal bathroom in Little Hawkins. 
The day is breezy but surprisingly warm, not a cloud in the sky. The sun bears down and heats Steve's skin in waves. He likely should've stopped for his jacket this morning, but he'd been super late. He doesn't want a citation. Another citation. 
This is the slowest day they've ever seen on fence duty. Usually the general hubbub of the community catches the attention of a handful of geeks, and fence duty stabs them through the brain with lethally modified crowbars. It's gross, but it's necessary. It keeps you safe. Yet today they haven't seen a single undead. 
"Maybe they're dying," Christopher says. 
"They're already dead," Jonathan says. 
"How do you know? You felt for a pulse?" 
"They decompose," Jonathan says, laughing softly. "They're corpses." 
"I'm just saying." Christopher shrugs. 
Steve ignores them both without malice, staring through the section of chain link fence he's standing in front of and out into the streets. The north side of The College faces the surrounding town. From here, he can see a pharmacist's building, a sandwich shop, and a small veterinary clinic. Shells of cars long dismantled line the road. Natural works to reclaim them slowly, tires threaded with long grass. A few days ago, a deer ran straight up to the fence and stared at him. He promised you he'd come and find you next time, even though you hadn't really minded. He wants you to see it. There's more out there than just geeks and bad people. 
He shivers and fiddles with the holster on his hip, checking for the tenth time in as many minutes that the gun held within has the safety mechanism on. He really doesn't wanna shoot himself in the foot. That would majorly suck, though, he thinks, you'd look after him. That might make it worth it. 
Not that he'd shoot himself in the foot for your attention, that would be totally backwards. But he thinks you'd look cute as a nurse, with the little hat— 
"Do you hear that?" Jonathan asks. 
Steve pulls away from his questionable thoughts and turns to see his kind of friend. Jonathan stands with his nose to the fence, straight brown hair curling at the bottom of his neck. He needs a trim, but who is Steve to judge? 
"Hear what?" Steve asks. 
Though you can see the town through the gaps, the fences are blanketed by trees. Old trees with thick trunks, the kind that protesters would chain themselves to if the government ever suggested cutting them down. The ground around them is more dirt than grass, like the packed earth under the fence and Steve's shoes.
He assumes Jonathan's talking about the creaking of a thousand branches in the wind. Brown and orange leaves fall in droves, crinkly and scratchy as they litter the floor. 
"I can't hear anything," Steve says. 
"It sounds like a car engine," Jonathan says. 
Steve cannot agree. Now that the world is silent, car engines sound like jet planes. They shake the ground. There are no vibrations to be felt, but… there is something. 
"I'm gonna walk the perimeter," Steve says. A creeping unease takes shape over his shoulders like the winding suffocation of a python. He can feel the pressure of it against his throat. 
It's nothing, he thinks to himself. 
Sections of street flash between the trees. Tree, empty street. Tree, empty street. Each tree blocks the sun, and goosebumps erupt over his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up with each footstep into the dimness. Steve pulls his crowbar close to his chest. 
I'm paranoid, he promises himself, even as the strange sound Jonathan had heard begins to rise. He knows what it is, he knows, but he doesn't want to know. The wet suck of meat being pulled off the bone, and the dry rattle of lungs that won't fill. He lets the sun kiss his cold face for a moment, and then he stops behind the cover of a huge sycamore tree and leans, carefully, slowly, to the left. 
The sun hasn't warmed the sparse grass. Each blade is frosted into spikes. The leaf litter has turned to mulch, disturbed and churned by the body splayed open atop it. Blood emulsifies the dirt, a black mud that covers the hands, arms, knees, and mouths of a sizable herd. 
Steve flinches backward, covers his nose to shield himself from the stink, and swiftly presses stiff fingers over his mouth to stop himself chucking up. 
There must be fifty or more geeks huddled there, fighting for scraps of ligament, falling over chunks of inedible veel.
Steve wants to retreat quietly. His hands have other ideas. 
He drops the crowbar, fumbling for it with every centimetre it falls, and ends up knocking it a couple feet away with a horrified gasp. 
The fences are hammered into the ground so they can't be moved, but there aren't many fence posts between sections. Flimsy chain link is all that separates Steve and the herd. 
They look up. They start to move. 
Hands reach for him, hands force themselves through the holes of the fence, skin peeling back over muscle like the delicate rind of a pear. He watches in horror as the herd congregates, as the herd leans its collective weight against what's basically chicken wire, as dessicated flesh shaves off of their dead bodies, as the fence begins to bend. 
The geeks use each other like ladder, pulling and climbing, heaped like jenga tiles until a gnarled hand closes over the top of the fence. 
He wants to run. He needs to stay. He needs to separate them, he needs to thin the weight. He scrambles to take up his crowbar again, taking a step forward, but the tattle tale sound of metal scratching against metal squeals in his ear, and he leaps backward as the fence tips forward.
He should scream. 
He trips as he grabs the crowbar, palm aching as it smashes into the ground. He barely touches the floor, pushing himself back up and using his momentum to sprint toward the rendezvous point. 
"Jonathan!" he shouts, his voice strained. "They're over the fence. Section twenty one is coming down!" The fence has already come down, but Steve isn't thinking straight. 
Jonathan barely looks at Steve. He only needs one glance before he's looking past him. Steve looks back, too, and then he keeps on sprinting.
Jonathan unholsters his gun. Christopher does the same. 
Behind Steve, across the stretch of the college campus, a wave of geeks snap their gored maws. Steve runs harder than he's ever ran before, faster than he's ever moved, even faster than that night in the woods with you, scroungers on your tail, laughing and cussing, their flashlights shining at your heels like the beam of a prison guardhouse. 
Steve vaults himself over an overgrown hedge and right into the centre of the campus. There aren't many people out, but any at all is too many. 
"Get inside!" he shouts without explanation, shoes sliding over stone as he leaps for the civil defence siren nestled against the gym building. "Get inside! There are geeks inside the fence!" 
Jeremy and Dustin had jerry-rigged the broken siren months ago for situations like this to only play for two seconds. Not long enough to attract anything that isn't already here. Steve slams his hand into the button and stares up at it in a petrified awe as the siren begins to cry, one long and wailing wave of sound that careers over the community. 
It might be his imagination, but he thinks that the silence after it stops is imbued with impending doom. One empty, fragile moment, before the shouting begins, and the following pop of gunfire is impossible to ignore. 
He thinks of you in the kitchen across the quad. He thinks of running to you, of hiding you somewhere nobody will ever get to you. 
He runs back the way he came. 
All these little faces in disarray. You huddle amongst the youngest ones and try your best to keep them quiet, whispering a story as the sound of gunshots cracking over asphalt rivets the quiet. 
"Me and Steve, we saw all kinds of fish. We saw carp, and salmon, and koi fish in the lake. They looked like huge, gorgeous goldfish, they had–" everyone jumps as something close by takes a hit, a fence perhaps, split apart— "these huge black eyes and these popping mouths. You know how fish pop their lips together?" 
You look around the circle and beg one of them to answer. If Sammy weren't such a wicked shot she would've stayed and handled this a hell of a lot better than you are.
"I know," says one of the youngest girls. She can't be six years olds. 
"Yeah? How do they do it?" 
She starts to pop her lips. You grin despite your welling panic and nod encouragingly. You'd clap if your hands weren't full of smaller hands. 
"Yeah, like that! They were swimming so close to us, I could see their gills." 
Your story isn't true, but it is distracting. You hold their attention for as long as you can. Pauline stands in the doorway, eyes flitting between the three entrances to the cafeteria, and Maybelle haunts the sink, hiding just behind the other overhead spray to try and find out what's going on. The storm siren hasn't sounded again, and Hopper hasn't come around to tell you it's safe. 
It might never be safe again.
You swallow down the urge to scream and squeeze the tiny fingers curled over your palm. They belong to a little boy, white and brown-haired with pretty hooded eyes. He looks like Steve. 
You could've sworn, just before the siren, that you'd heard him yelling, but you'd raced to the sink and looked out and hadn't seen him. 
You can't help thinking about it. About everything — he could die. He could already be dead. Joyce swore she hadn't seen him, and had only managed to speak to Christopher, who'd split off to alert the older group. She said Jonthan was holding off a group of geeks. She couldn't stay, determined to go help him. 
So if Christopher was looking for Hopper, and Jonathan was by himself at the north fence, where was Steve? Where exactly was the leak? 
You lean forward toward the kids and whisper, "Does anyone else have a story? From a vacation?" 
"We went to Niagara Falls, once," Becky says. 
"You did? What was it like, huh? Was the waterfall really loud?" 
Becky starts to tell her story. You try to listen. You can't think of anything at all besides Steve, though your priority is keeping everybody here safe, your brain won't stop. You can't shake the feeling that you'll lose him, and it's a bright red branding behind your eyes. You're gonna lose him.
This can't be happening. 
It's been a month since Connor, an ex-member of The College with delusions of grandeur, dragged you underdressed and freezing through miles of forest with your wrists bound, wondering if you'd ever see Steve again. A month of nightmares and hot flashes and reaching out for Steve in the dark. 
You'd thought, if you died, if Connor killed you, that it would ruin Steve's life. He'd waste it looking for you. You'd thought that was the worst feeling in the world, knowing you'd leave him behind.
You hadn't understood what this part felt like. How Steve must've felt, wondering if you were dead. How he must've argued with himself as you do now. 
Steve hadn't hesitated. Robin mentioned it once, casual but earnest. Steve tore the place apart looking for you. He assembled a search party and went looking for you on a hunch. Steve says he's lucky they chose the right direction. You know it's more than that. You know you're the lucky one. 
He knew you were in danger, and he came to get you. 
"Maybelle," you say, standing up. "I'm gonna need a knife." 
— 
Steve isn't sure what the fuck they're doing. Hopper shouts instructions but they're confusing and nobody knows what's happening. Geek gore drips down his arm and he prays he doesn't have any broken skin as he ploughs the sharp of the crowbar deep into a grey mottled eye socket. 
It shucks out, the geek's body collapsing in a heap at his feet. Tens more stagger forward.
"Everyone should be inside, but that doesn't mean everyone is inside!" Hopper shouts, his booming voice echoing over the din of shots and slick stabbing. "We need to contain them. Joyce, Jonathan, I need you back here. Bernier, Taylor, McCoy, push for the fence! We need to get it back up and standing before this gets worse. Harrington!" 
Steve pierces the skull of an approaching geek like an eggshell, springing back before a second can tear a chunk out of him. "What?" he yells. 
"You should circle back to the quad, make sure there aren't any stragglers."
"Joyce already secured–" 
"It's up to you, kid." 
Steve appreciates what Hopper's doing. Everyone knows you and Steve are unhealthily dependent on one another right now considering the circumstances, and he'll admit that his heart wants literally nothing more than to be where you are. He thinks of you locked up in the kitchen with all this happening outside and hates it, but as long as you stay where you are, that's as safe as you can be. 
He doesn't bother saying yes or no, throwing himself back into the throng. 
It's the ultimate workout. Sweat stings his eyes, his brain pounds behind them. He has to stay vigilant and he has to be fast. He cuts down geeks with a practised agility, Bernier on one side, Taylor the other. They force their way to the fence, and soon there's a small army of survivors behind them, bullets burning his eardrum to the right. 
When the fence is finally in view again, they buckle down. 
It's a huge struggle. Hopper and Livingstone front a team of five of the older guys with a replacement fence on their literal shoulders. The woods are teaming with geeks who must have heard the gunfire and the siren. They cut down the old fence behind Steve and the youngers. The new one gets thrown up just as Steve spears a geek through the ear, hammers whacking into frozen earth with a sound like a car crash.
"Harrington, inside the perimeter!" 
Steve eyes an imminent geek but does as Hopper commands, weaselling through the single gap they've left behind. They finish the inner hammering and Hopper and Livingstone set about chaining the sections back together. 
Steve backs away from the fence and tries to catch his breath. He leans back and brushes the hair out of his eyes, chest heaving, eyes shuttering closed in relied. They survived it. They did exactly what they were supposed to do in this situation and the plan worked. 
Somebody takes the crowbar from his hand and he lets them, scrubbing both hands through his hair, scalp cool with sweat as a gale of wind blows. He looks up, and the sky has darkened, that rare morning sunshine nowhere to be seen. 
He opens his eyes. Christopher is sitting a ways away looking queasy. Joyce is hugging the life out of Jonathan, kissing his cheek, hand in his hair. Bernier and Taylor are stabbing the new wave of geeks. Steve isn't worried, there aren't a quarter as many as there had been. 
The smell is barbaric. 
"Don't relax too quickly, kid," Hopper says, "we still gotta round up the bodies." 
Steve laughs morosely, secretly pleased when Hopper pats him on the shoulder. His back fucking hurts and he stinks of gore and zombie gunk. Dead material somehow slimy and dry as bark at once, Steve wants a shower, and a hug from you, in that specific order. 
"You okay?" Jonathan asks him, squinting. There's blood splattered against his forehead. 
"They had to do this today?" Steve asks. "This is my favourite shirt. I'm never gonna get the guts out–" 
A scream splits the air. 
"The quad," Hopper announces. "Taylor, Bernier, keep going. Everyone else, with me." 
His blood ice in his veins, Steve runs with the rest of the group. He realises he's left his crowbar with Taylor and grimaces, pulling the gun from his holster and knocking off the safety mechanism. Steve isn't good with a gun. He only ever used one right at the start, when he hadn't known that sound to a geek is like a porch light to moths. That, and he'd run out of ammo. 
"Oh, goddammit." 
There's a crowd of geeks they must've missed around the side of the town hall. Hopper immediately starts yelling at a young teenager screaming in front of the gym to get back inside. 
Steve's okay, his heart's fine, and then he sees you. You're wrist deep in brains, surrounded by bodies and coated in a black spray of blood. It's in your hair, your eyebrows, all over your cheek and your shoulder. 
He nearly wrenches Livingstone off of his feet as he bursts forward to help you, gun raised and poised. He shoots and drives forward. One geek, two. Three, five, he loses count. He gets so close he can hear your panting breath, not panicked but struggling to keep going. 
"Fucker," he says, one geek left between you and safety. 
You scramble to the side. Steve shoots it point black in the back of the head. It falls down slow, and then it thunks against your shoes. 
You reach for him on automatic as you pull your feet from under him, treading over the soft of the geeks shoulders and into Steve's waiting arms. He holds the gun away from you to click on the safety, shoving it back into his borrowed holster. 
"You're okay?" you ask loudly. 
"I'm fine, what are you doing out here? You should've stayed inside the pantry." 
"Says who?" you ask, squeezing him so tightly he feels his skin bruising in the shapes of your arms. 
"Says everyone!" he shouts, squeezing you back just as hard. 
You catch your breath together. His hands rove over your back, checking and rechecking that you're real and you're not hurt. He pushes you away from him to check your front properly, hand on your face, your arms. 
"I'm fine," you say, "I'm perfect." 
"You have more blood on you than the rest of us put together." 
You hum unhappily. "I think I got a fresh one in the artery. It sprayed like a fountain, it was–" You sigh, stroking a loose curl of dirtied hair from his eyes. "It was disgusting." 
He wants to kiss you, but he's normal, and you're both plastered in blood. He's less normal as he wraps his forearm behind your head and forces your face into his neck, groaning in an exhaustive relief. Your warm breath against his skin is everything he could ever ask for. 
"Stay inside, next time," he murmurs. 
"Not a chance." 
"Think I can give him a citation?" Steve hears Hopper ask. 
Joyce gasps through a laugh. "They're cute!" 
"This is a public space." 
Steve huffs a laugh against your ear. "Holy shit, you scared the fuck out of me." 
"I had to know you were okay." 
His hand slides down your shoulders, searching for something he can't explain. "I'm okay. We're okay, honey. You can relax."
The last of your resistance ebbs away. You melt into his arms, and Steve pretends for your sake that he can't feel you shaking like a leaf. You just tore your way through a herd to make sure he was okay: you're the bravest girl he's ever met.
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saintarmand · 3 months
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8, 17, 21 & 22 for the iwtv ask thingy! 🤍
8. Who's your favorite actor?
jacob anderson. come on now. they're all great but he is ethereal. second place assad zaman
17. Have you read or watched anything because it was referenced in the show?
oh just a few things
love's coming of age by edward carpenter
chéri by colette
nausea by jean-paul sartre (louis was reading this in ep6 when lestat and claudia are playing chess while talking about nicki. you can't see the full cover but i went detective mode and figured it out)
madame bovary by gustave flaubert
a moveable feast by ernest hemingway (s2 first look "esurient hearts beating as one, the rumbling beast of the moveable feast")
iolanta (tchaikovsky opera)
don pasquale (donizetti opera)
pelléas et mélisande (debussy opera)
a doll's house (henrik ibsen play)
a streetcar named desire (tennessee williams play) + the movie with marlon brando
i didnt read the full text but i did hunt down and read parts of "de masticatione mortuorum, the chewing dead" that claudia mentions, full title "dissertatio historico-philosophica de masticatione mortuorum" by philip rohr (1679) (view the original manuscript here + english translation here)
i havent finished all of emily dickinson's poems yet but im getting there! (some of these i had read before ofc but im reading them all in order now)
ive also previously watched nosferatu (and rewatched it for iwtv) and the trimph of the will (NOT rewatching 💀 that was for a film history class) and ive read dante's inferno which louis mentions ("if i was to join dante's wood of the self-murdered...") and i highly recommend it!!! absolute fav
there's also stuff that wasn't directly referenced in the show but the fandom has drawn parallels to, that i've read and watched for that reason.
anne carson's an oresteia (to better understand all the agamemnon iphigenia clytemnestra electra comparisons people make)
giovanni's room by james baldwin
rebecca (1940 film)
theres def more movies but i cant remember lol
and theres some nonfiction books i've yet to finish bc im slow at nonfiction
the vampire: a casebook by alan dundes (cited by writers as s2 inspo! about irl vampire folklore)
black new orleans 1860-1880 by john w. blassingame for historical context
the theatre of fear and horror by mel gordon, on the grand guignol aka the inspiration for theatre des vampires (i did finish this one except for the summaries of all the plays, i decided to skip that there's so many. very engaging read and gives a lot of insight into the some of the bts stuff we've seen about the theatre)
louis's favorite movies from the tale of the the body thief!
la belle et la bête (1946)
the company of wolves (1984)
the dead (1987)
i may be forgetting some stuff. there's also so much more on my list that i mean to get to. a prayer for owen meany by john irving, of "memory is a monster" quote fame is locked and loaded for example
if anyone's interested to hear my thoughts on any of these feel free to ask i would love to talk about it!!!
all this and i've still only read the first 6 of the actual vampire chronicles. and im still procrastinating starting merrick
21. What was your favorite monologue of season one?
HMM the obvious one is louis's confession. ive watched the whole sequence from the funeral to the end of the episode a truly unhealthy number of times. also claudia's coffin monologue
22. Who's your favorite character? Why?
LOUIS. probably because i relate to him so much. instant connection. tricked into loving myself. also like hes literally louis how could i not love him do i need to even explain this
when i started reading the books i didnt care for book louis that much lol but i did become an armand stan. possibly bc i also relate to him im selfish like that i guess. also just his whole backstory and the way it informs everything he does is so fascinating to me. ppl say hes incomprehensible and hes literally not. everything he does makes sense when you consider his life experiences
iwtv ask game
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Hisuians in the Present AU —Gaeric finds a gym (the kind for people, not Pokémon), gets into a rivalry with the biggest dude there. They’re lifting increasingly big weights and then increasingly ridiculous Pokémon (the dude has like a Rhydon or something who is his spotter that he can carry like a kitten). Gaeric accidentally supplexes the gym owner’s Steelix and is gonna get thrown out but the rival declares him a bro and boom, instant friendship.
I don’t know why this popped into my head but thank you for the inspo haha
AMAZING THANK YOU
i think this is one part of, initially like, everyone from the same clan is wandering around as a group (so all the pearl clan wardens are together), but then people keep getting pulled away—lian finds the rock-type gym and is lost forever to the Fossil Zone, gaeric discovers Regular Gyms—and then eventually irida turns around and realizes that a) she's somehow lost EVERYONE, b) she doesn't know her way around and is herself extremely lost.
cue panic and her resigning herself to having to talk to a Future Person on her own for the first time ever, just to like, ask for directions back to wherever-it-is they're staying
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spurgie-cousin · 5 months
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Thrift a wedding dress, drench yourself in blood and be like a murder ghost bride. Spirit has small axe props, get some fake flowers to weave around it to make it into a bouquet, get a veil from Spirit or Party City and bam, instant spooky bride.
I did this a few years ago and was also outside for most of the night but just wore a white thermal shirt underneath. It was nice having a long dress because I could wear 3 layers of pants and thick boots and nobody could tell (I’m from NY we get cold Halloweens here lol)
You could then donate the bloody dress to your local haunted house/hayride for them to use as an actor costume next year!
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Along both these lines, I think Samara Weaving's character from ready or not would be a perfect option if I could just find the right kind of 'wedding' dress in time. Bc not only do I have the fake blood, but that character has an iconic scene where they're all bloody and smoke a cig at the end AND i have fake cigs from my Dale Gribble costume last year
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Obv I don't need the gun but I think I could get everything except I haven't found the dress yet (except as an actual wedding dress for $200 on Amazon), but hopefully Spirit or a thrift store (that's a good idea!) might have it.
Thanks for the inspo!! 😊😊
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undertheknightwing · 5 months
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*bumps into you on the streets and slides an envelope in your jacket pocket* ✍️✨️💭📚 for you, my dear!
Oh there's a letter in my pocket! How sweet! *letter blows away in the wind* Oh no! my letter! *sighs and smiles* damn.. I wonder what adventures that letter is gonna find itself on
ignore how goofy and cringy that was,, it was on purpose ❤️
✍️ What’s your ideal writing setup?
I can write about anywhere, but I do need music. If I don't have music, especially the songs that my inspiration and motivation comes from, I might lose my steam and get distracted by other stuff. Silence is my enemy.
(I hope that was the right "setup" and not like.. what program you use lmao)
✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?
Besides allof my friends comments obviously, I love you guys ✨️ Escapism always has the best comments they're either super sweet or hilarious. They got the best vibes fr
some of my favorites are (and i'm just writing them bc i don't wanna add a bunch of screenshots):
"you get everyone's characters down to a T which is honestly hard to find in fanfic. i adore this!"
"damn i did not think about Gar/Jon ship but you are onto something great here"
"you can only stare into each other's eyes, red in the face, so many times before you have to face the facts" < -- context: the end of chapter 7
"Thank you so much for sharing [this fic]; it's such an unparalleled blend of fluff and humor and angst"
"The cheek kiss and then Jordan immediately bullying Jon has me dying. This fic is the highlight of my week easily."
and the one time someone said they usually hate slowburns but Escapism does it so well they actually love it
also this isn't a comment, it's on a bookmark I got today but it made me giggle and kick my feet
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It's my job to write Gar, random ao3 user 💚
💭 What inspires you and your writing?
Wow, umm.. A LOT. Other than the "of course" answer of tv shows, I get most of my fic + scene ideas/inspo from music. Lets say I have a scene idea and it's angsty, then I'm gonna listen to songs with lyrics and sound that fit the vibe i'm going for. While listening to the song(s) on repeat, I let my brain pictures do the rest of work, and if it creates something I like and know I can twist around be bit to fit my storyline as a whole, I choose that
but on the non-music flipside, me and my friend have tossed around ideas before just in texting and a lot of little things in Escapism came from those jokes/chats
📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?
okay listen.. I was gonna send you this one but thought "that seems like I'm fishing for a compliment" so I decided against it lmao
anywayyyy.. your fics OF COURSE are amazing,, "Acrida" is my favorite but I already told you that hehe I really liked "When I'm Dead And Gone, Will They Sing About Me?" too
and while I'm praising fic authors my bestie in crime, the Jon to my El, @mombosslois and her fic "A Love Without End". It's everything s&l season 2 wishes it could have been. It's just UGH SO GOOD YA KNOW??? I don't wanna spoil it just in case but it makes me feel like
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but in the most positive way ever
now a fic that made me wanna throw up and cry at the same time was "So- Your Child Got Addicted to X-K" by underwaterrock. I've never had a fic make me need to step away from my screen and catch my breath before, it was crazy, but I still love it. It's in the top 5 of my favorite s&l fics. "collateral damage" by Zannolin was great too,, I love me some missing scene/episode fics and it's about Jon so instant gold star sticker
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rivetgoth · 1 year
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3 4 8 !!
Thank youuuuuu 😭
3. Name five artists you wish more people knew about.
I answered this one before but I'm happy to do more 😈
Male Tears (I feel like I've talked people's ears off about this band already, but omg, I looooove them, they are such a fun electronic/goth modern act where the frontman is openly gay and a lot of their songs touch on that specifically and are about being a kinky gay goth guy, seriously so fun and has a lot of diversity in the music)
Spike Hellis (another local LA band, very classic EBM throwback but totallyyyy has their own stuff they're bringing to the table, really really fun and an amazing liveshow-- I've seen them three times and I hope to see them again!! Just awesome energy and totally deserving of more attention)
ACTORS (another band I've talked a lot about, but I'm just so surprised that of all the recent darkwave throwback bands they seem to get a bit less attention than some of the others? They are so good, their music is so nostalgic in such a good way, they have just a bit of a glam/Bowie influence IMO that gives them a bit more variation IMHO than some of the other big darkwave acts I've heard, I just really really love them)
Cocksure (OMG where is the love for this act? It's Chris Connelly of RevCo/Ministry/Pigface and Jason Novak of Acumen Nation!! It's super fun and dancey and it gets noooo attention for some reason, their 2018 album "Be Rich" Is PERFECT)
Curse Mackey (Curse my friend Curse 🖤 I have been such a massive fan of his solo work since his first album “Instant Exorcism” from 2019, though I liked this work before that too, but his solo work is just amazing, super fun electronic industrial music with a lot of danciness to it and amazingggg lyrics, you can hear a lot of ohGr inspo which I love and I feel like his newest album from this year, "Immoral Emporium," is his best work yet, so much variation and complexity in some of those tracks, I looove)
4. Top shows you have seen.
Omg EVER? That's a hard one, I've seen so many good shows, but off the top of my head...
For sure my favorite ever was probably when I went to Cold Waves Chicago in 2018 and saw Cocksure, Lead Into Gold, Chemlab, and ohGr all on the same night! That was seriously the best lineup I have ever seen in my entire life. It was such a magical night and I just remember hearing "Faster Than Light" by Lead Into Gold and looking around and seeing EVERYONE there in the birthplace of American industrial music in the theatre where a lot of it happened and everyone was singing along all hype, it was the perfect industrial anthem. That was also the second time I ever got to meet Ogre... the first time, when I saw him with KMFDM in 2017, was also a huge fucking highlight though, amazing fucking show and also just a lifechanging moment in general 🥺🖤
From this year alone, probably my very favorite concert so far was seeing IAMX. I think I talked about it at the time but Chris Corner did this amazing thing with his sound where he gave everyone a pair of fancy headphones to wear during the show. I was apprehensive at first worried that it would muffle the sound or make the show less immersive but OMG, I've never experienced anything quite like it-- The sound was PERFECT, Chris connected the audio in the headphones to his microphone so you could hear his vocals so clean and clear, it was like you were right up in front of him, it was so immersive and literally the best audio of any show I have ever heard. It was in a cool venue up on the rooftop of an old building in DTLA, super small audience, it was so intimate and so original and so cool and the setlist was to die for too :D
And finally..... probably seeing Ministry for the showing of the Wax Trax! Industrial Accident documentary. They did a Wax Trax-era set back in 2019 and it was just so fucking fun. Everyyyyyyyyy industrial fan in LA showed up to that I swear, I was around so many people and met so many amazing people and the show was just so fun and high energy, Ministry sounded great and I was so excited to hear all those songs and just UGHH.
8. What is the strangest thing you’ve witnessed at a show?
HMMM... I don't know if this is the very strangest because it's hard to remember every single detail, but a concert moment that always makes me laugh was back when I saw supposed to see Die Krupps perform at Cold Waves but last minute they weren't able to get their visas. Nobody really announced it properly (they literally made a post about it the day of, so a lot of people didn't know, we only knew because we got to the venue super early and were talking with all the other insane people in line who were obviously paying attention to the updates because we were crazy enough to be at the show hours early lol). They ended up replacing them with the band Caustic who are a super fun kinda goofy local Chicago act. When they got on stage to perform at the time when Die Krupps was supposed to, the frontman was like "What's up Cold Waves, we're Die Krupps!" before playing their set LMAOOOO. They never corrected themselves or properly introduced themselves as far as I remember, it was so fucking funny, to this day I wonder if anyone who wasn't in the know thought they actually saw Die Krupps 😭😭
[Music Asks]
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glysaturn · 2 years
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AAAAHHH me too like there’s one with 274940million notes that most of the set is more inspired by as other anon said but the one with lips is a direct copy….. like you could’ve left that one out and gotten off scot free but now I Know 😐
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yea idk what they expect, copying artwork is bad regardless but copying a well known piece is just stupid. even if the artist themself, someone who would recognize their own work in an instant, doesn't come across a plagiarized work, someone else definitely will find it and call it out :/ and obviously they're not gonna "admit their inspo" and link to the original cause it ain't no inspo, they know it and they're scared, yet not scared enough to just keep that piece to themselves apparently, somehow they hope it will slide
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uravichii · 2 years
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ー unspoken "i love you's" ୧ .˚ₓ ༄ؘ
character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, midoriya izuku, kaminari denki
genre: fluff :)
notes: i'm sorry i haven't posted in a while :( i was a lot busier for the winter break than i thought i'd be n i also didn't rly have much energy nor inspo at the time skfjskfn
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✧ bakugo katsuki always has a way to let you know he's listening to you. the second you start talking, he'll take his earphones off and put his phone down, subtly leaning closer to you the longer you speak. when you try to cut your rambles short with, "sorry, i'm talking too much" or "nevermind, i think i already told you this" he only raises his brow and scoffs, "so? spit it out." then he'll pull you onto his lap and wrap his arms around your waist, caging you in, and will glare at you until you start talking again, because katsuki doesn't care one bit if he's hearing "the same shit" for the second, third, or the seventh time. as long as he gets to hear it from you, he's going to listen to every word, every time.
✧ shinsou hitoshi wants to tell you he loves you everyday, but that would mean getting over his nerves before attempting to. that is to say, hitoshi says his 'i love you's' through brief yet intimate contact and gestures. he'll link pinkies with you under the table, kiss your shoulder when nobody's looking, interlace his fingers into yours, locking eyes with you as he presses a lasting kiss on the back of your hand. his favorite thing to do is to wrap you in his arms and massage your scalp until you're in a dazed state, wherein he's much more comfortable saying, "i love you y/n..." he plants a kiss at the crown of your head before slightly leaning his head back, studying your calmed features adoringly, "... more than you'll ever know."
✧ the way midoriya izuku squeezes your hand and immediately calls your attention the instant he sees something he's sure you'd love. when your favorite song starts playing in a store, or when a small animal's tapping its paws in your direction, izuku's just as excited as you are. only his reason differs from yours. he's over the moon when you start squeezing his hand back out of excitement, turning to face him with animated eyes and the most adorable grin on your face. izuku didn't think it was possible you could get any more beautiful, neither did he think it was possible he could fall in love with you more than he already was.
✧ kaminari denki doesn't shy away at all from admiring you up close. he basically has permanent heart eyes for you. he'll gently tuck your hair behind your ear, brushing his thumb against your cheeks, and mutter about how he's glad can see your face better now. if you let him, he'll take tons of photos of you until his phone storage's full. when you tell him to delete the ones you find unflattering, he'll immediately do so whilst aggressively disagreeing with you, saying that he takes tons of photos of youー not because he's looking for the best angle, but because you look spectacular from all angles. when his friends catches him staring at his lockscreen (his favorite photo of you particularly), he doesn't mind all the teasing and the noises of disgust from bakugo. he's more than happy to shower you with praise, even when you're not there to hear them. "how can i not stare? they're gorgeous! you see this?" he smirks as he circles his arm to show everyone the photo, and when he lowers his phone to admire the photo again, his proud grin's toned down to a softer, more gentle smile of adoration, "just... perfect."
taglist :: @uxavity @joy-the-reader @bubble-bootie @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @saturnmich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @solaxena @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @renmallowsstuff @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddictt @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexroi [bold couldn't be tagged :( ]
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raysofcrosby · 2 years
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please don’t say you love me - s. crosby
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rosemary driscoll never saw it coming. in a matter of 45 minutes, she went from a college senior wrapping up her fall semester abroad in the rainy city of london to losing both of her parents, and becoming both an orphan and guardian to her two little sisters…all two weeks before christmas. with a city and an entire college community rallying behind the mourning family after their devastating loss, rosemary is left to make the life altering decision of choosing to follow the path she’d spent almost her entire life planning perfectly and dreaming about or become the full caretaker of her two younger sisters. and no matter how heartbreaking of a decision it is, their newfound lesson that life can change in an instant, has rosemary pushing aside her own dreams to make sure her sisters are happy, healthy and taken care of.
sidney crosby’s life is great. he lives in a city that feels like home away from home, he has a swarm of friends, he plays on a once again stanley cup contending team…he’s living the dream he’s always dreamt of since he was a child…except he couldn’t help but think that something was missing. he has all of these things, things anyone could ever want and he was successfully playing and sealing a legacy in a league where an average of 34% of drafted players, make it into. but no trophy, new record, new furniture or shiny thing could ever fill the gap he’s spent years trying to fill. and as his teammates continue to get married and start their families— start their lives, he starts to wonder if the one thing he’s missing the most…is the thing he had sworn up and down that he didn’t want.
until he meets an outgoing 10-year-old at one of his little penguins events who swears up and down that they’ve met before, and her older sister who looks like she’s carrying the weight of the world, a look he’s known all of his life, and finds himself wanting to do nothing more than help her carry it too.
this is a super rough draft summary to my future sidney fic, so please don’t roast me lol. beneath the cut are character aesthetics for the story and some dialogue from them that’ll be in the book. i got a random splurge of inspo to make these, so i hope you like them 🥺 and if not and this totally flops…let’s just pretend it never happened 😇
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sidney “sid” crosby — french ~ saint denis — age: 35
"you need to go in there and take charge of the narrative. that man already took enough from the three of you, don't let him take away your courage to speak about how what he did effected your lives. don't let him get the last word."
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rosemary “rose” driscoll — latin ~ dew of the sea — age: 23
"they're gone. they're gone and there's nothing i can do to bring them back, any of them. i failed them all. i failed my parents, i failed my sisters, i pushed you away because i was scared of failing– and now that i have i... i just thought i knew what i wanted to do, but i don't. i don't know anymore and i just feel so lost and alone."
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arabella “bella” driscoll — latin ~ yielding to prayer — age: 13
"i don't really hate you...i mean, i know i said that i did, but i don't. it just feels like it's easier to blame you...for what happened, but i know it's not your fault and i'm sorry for saying all that stuff."
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louisa “lou” driscoll — latin ~ renowned warrior — age: 10
“you pinky promised me that you wouldn’t hurt my sister, sidney crosby and you lied. you’re a liar and i hate liars, so now i hate you.”
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the driscoll girls — irish ~ descendant of the messenger — est. 1998, 2008 + 2012
"you may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. you need her, as she needs you." – george r.r. martin
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sidney + rosemary — dna doesn't make a family
"just because he'd known a life without them and learned to live after them...after her, didn't mean he really wanted to live that kind of life again."
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2897 audubon court pittsburgh, pa — the driscoll residence
"a house is made of walls and beams; a home is built with love and dreams.” – unknown
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tanniefm · 3 years
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nasty | jjk (m)
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summary - you're needy at a party and no one can help you except your boyfriend jungkook.
pairing - jungkook x reader
genre - established relationship
word count - 2.4k
song inspo - nasty by ariana grande
warnings - unprotected sex (BOOO), dirty talk, daddy kink, brief breeding kink, slight voyeurism (you essentially ride his thigh in front of everyone), explicit language, praise kink, subspace, drug and alcohol use (weed), brief mention of vmin, i guess kook also falls into domspace too i mean y'all are high so
a/n - i'm sorry this took so long school's been kicking my ass bruh. this is also very unedited since i originally wrote this while horny like a month ago kanjwbw. anyways yeah enjoy! ps. i am very bad at endings and summaries sigh
♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°
“Pleaseeeee”
“Nope”
“But I need to so badly! Just please make me cum, Kook!”
“What did I say? Not ‘til later. At this rate I might not let you cum at all.” his words brought utter terror to your face. What did he mean not letting you cum at all? You've been so good all day! Just like he told you! This party fucking sucks anyway. As much as you love your friends coming over, there’s only so much you can handle before you start getting annoyed by their presence. Jungkook has been teasing you all day but the very peak of it was when he ate you out earlier like it was his last meal and at the very last second, decided to cease all contact from you and smile cockily. Asshole.
It doesn’t help that you've both been drinking and smoking a bit, so your horniness has only worsened since then. This mixed haze of being tipsy and high at the same time is just making you needier by the second. You’ve been clinging onto him and following him around your shared apartment the whole night while he laughed and chatted with your friends.
“You good, ____?” Jimin laughs. He out of everyone should know exactly how you feel, given him and Tae are constantly going at it, just like you and your beloved boyfriend.
You smile sarcastically, “Nah I’m perfectly fine, Minnie! Why do you ask?” you know exactly why he’s asking. You’re not really the best at hiding your emotions and your face says it all that you’d rather have everyone disappear immediately so you can fuck the shit out of the man you’re glaring at. He’s currently taking a few hits out of Hoseok’s “party bong” as he likes to call it. It looks very used and burnt out, you don’t know why he just won’t get a new one since you’re sure that’s some kind of safety hazard but whatever.
“No reason, just that you look like you wanna eat Jungkookie alive is all.” he smirks. You roll your eyes playfully and take another sip from whatever mixed drink Jungkook made you.
“He’s getting on my nerves.” you quip back. Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he laughs heartily. It seems like everyone finds your situation amusing but you. All you want is to have a proper orgasm! Is that so wrong! It feels like he’s punishing you and you haven’t even done anything! You go to sit on the couch with him, directly on his lap, while he watches Seokjin and Taehyung yell over Mario Kart. He automatically wraps his hands around your waist and smiles lazily.
“Heyy pretty girl.” he says gruffly. His voice always gets raspy when he smokes and your pussy throbs at his (and your) favorite pet name.
“Kookie,” you whine. “Please can we wrap this up and do something alone. Need you.” you start pouting in hopes he’ll finally cave. He chuckles and brushes a piece of hair from your face.
He leans in closely to whisper, “After they're done with this game, I promise I’ll take care of you, ok baby?” you look at him skeptically and hold up your pinky to ensure he means what he says. He giggles at your cuteness and wraps his long pinky around yours, kissing it to seal the deal. Your face immediately lights up at the prospect that you’ll finally get some dick. The more you think about it, the wetter you get. Maybe he’ll bring out the toys this time and use those on you. Maybe he’ll overstimulate you until you beg him to stop. Maybe he’ll let you take control since he’s been messing with you all evening anyway. The possibilities are endless and they cause you to squirm around on his lap. You quickly realize that your leggings are pretty thin however as you suddenly pause when you feel that your boyfriend is hard as a rock. Little did you know that he’s been suffering just as much as you have, he just likes to play with you a little to see how needy you could get. He can feel you throbbing through your leggings and it’s been driving him fucking crazy. He can’t wait for the guys to leave so he can fuck you in every room of this house.
He grips your hips tightly and gives you a warning look of “do that again and see what happens” you whimper and tuck your face in his neck. He smells so good. You can faintly smell the weed you two have been smoking but you can still smell his soft detergent and calming lavender he loves so much. You know his nose is sensitive so he only uses a small amount of cologne and it encapsulates him so perfectly. He pulls you closer and starts bouncing his knee slightly. Fuck. Now his thigh is consistently hitting your clit and your mind is getting fuzzier. The haze from earlier coupled with the fact that Jungkook is bouncing you like a baby is starting to make you whimper and moan a little louder than you’d like to. You know he’s fucking with you again. He loves seeing you like this. He leans down and reminds you Tae and Jin are almost done with their game and then you can moan and whine all you want. You nod hastily while you suck a mark into his neck to keep quiet. His knee keeps the same casual pace, as if your clit isn’t the main focal point of each bounce. He kisses the top of your head and laughs along at whatever the boys are arguing about as to not raise any suspicion. Although you’re pretty sure everyone can tell exactly what’s going on. The fact that everyone can clearly see you getting bounced on your boyfriend's lap is only getting you closer and closer. You bet you could cum like this.
“Ha ha! Fuck you, hyung! I told you I’d win!” Taehyung shouts jovially.
“Yeah whatever, brat! I’m definitely winning next time.” they both get up and stretch before informing both of you that they think they’ll call it a night. The rest of the boys agree and gather their stuff to head out. You hate to say it, but you couldn’t be happier that everyone’s finally leaving. Jungkook lifts you off his lap gently and to your horror, you can already see a damp spot forming on his sweats. He smirks and winks at you while he kindly escorts everyone out. Once the last person is gone and the door is closed and locked, he turns around and tells you to come here. You scamper over to him in a haste and attach your lips to his in an instant. He laughs at your neediness and backs you slowly to the couch. He sits down and puts you in his lap again while you both make out as if you’ve been deprived of each other. He grips your hips and grinds you against his erection that’s been straining against his pants for the better part of half an hour.
“My poor baby, was I too mean today?” he asks as he kisses down your neck and jaw.
“Mhm, I’ve been a good girl all day just like you said and you don’t even care.” you whine. He lifts his head and cups your face.
“Of course I care, baby. I’m so proud of you for being so good today. You want daddy to take care of you now, don’t you?” he says gently. It looks like you’re not the only one that fell into a bit of a headspace. You’re very aware that when Jungkook starts referring to himself as daddy that he’s already taken a dominant position. Meaning he’ll take very little shit from you. Not that you felt like being bratty today anyway. Good girls get rewarded and that’s exactly what you intend to receive. You nod and grind against him faster in hopes he’ll get the hint that you want him now. As always, he quickly understands and starts ridding himself of his shirt as you take off yours. Seeing all of his tattoos always does things to you. Especially the small bouquet of black roses he got for you. You still can’t believe he would get something so permanent on his body just for you but he was adamant that you were the love of his life. The memory made you emotional as you started to tear up slightly. You’re going to have to ask Hoseok what the hell was in that strain to make you so sensitive to literally everything. Jungkook stops unclipping your bra as soon as he sees your eyes well up.
His hands are right back to their position on your face. “Woah, what happened love? Are you ok?” you wipe your eyes and giggle bashfully and explain why you got so worked up. He smiled and kissed you softly.
“You know I love you, right? You’re so fucking cute. I love you so much.” he says as he leans his forehead on yours. Weed makes both of you so sappy. You can’t even find it in yourself to care as you bring him into another kiss. He continues to take off your bra and starts kneading your breasts in his hands. The action makes you whine and pull away from him.
“Daddy, I wanna cum now. Please?”
He chuckles and lifts you off of him to strip your leggings. His fingers trace over the damp spot of your panties and he pulls them back to see how wet they’ve gotten.
“My little girl completely soaked through these. Needy baby. If you wanted it so bad why couldn’t you just do it yourself, huh?”
“B-because I wanted to be good. M’ a good girl right?” his words confused you. Why would you take care of yourself when he does it so much better. Plus, wouldn’t he just punish you anyway?
“I know baby, you are a good girl. Besides, those tiny little fingers would just frustrate you wouldn't they? You need daddy to cum ‘cause my dumb babygirl can’t do anything by herself, can she?” his words make your lip tremble as you nod dumbly. He’s right! You couldn’t possibly do something like that by yourself. Only he can make you feel like this.
He smiles as you agree with no hesitation and pecks all around your face. This is your favorite place to be in. In his arms waiting for his instruction. Taking the lead is fun every once and awhile but being stupid and pliant is far more your speed. He makes you feel safe and adored. He makes you feel good.
His fingers swirl around your covered clit as you moan into his mouth. Your little noises and the feeling of his fingers getting slicker is making him painfully hard and he, too is getting impatient. He wiggles his hips and slides his sweats down to reveal to you that he’s been walking around with no underwear on. He’s been completely hard with no barrier other than his sweats. You feel like you could bust right then and there. As soon as you see his cock, you lick your hand and start stroking it slowly. Jungkook hisses and throws his head back.
“Little girl...don’t play with me right now…” you heed his warning and scramble to take off your panties so you can get him inside you as fast as possible. This is what you’ve been waiting for, and you’ll be damned if you fuck it up now. He steadies you as you prepare to sink down on him and he kisses you gently. The way he’s filling you is intoxicating.
“Fuck, this little cunt was made for me wasn’t it? My baby’s so perfect for me.” his words make you tremble. You both moan breathily once he’s bottomed out inside you. You grind back and forth slowly as you try to adjust to his length. Jungkook however, is just as impatient as you are. He halts your movements to grip your hips and lift you almost completely off of him and slam you back down. You gasp as he sets a pace for you quickly. Your walls clench as he groans out praises of how good you feel and how much he loves being with you like this. In his lap, bouncing on top of him, whining into his neck. He couldn't think of a better place to be. His hands slide down to your ass and grips it as he bounces you even faster. You moan loudly and bite on his shoulder in fear of getting another noise complaint from the neighbors.
“D-Daddy? M’ close. So so so so so close daddy please fuck!” your words are slurred since you literally cannot think properly. He laughs breathily. “I know baby, you feel so good. Fuck I wanna pump you full of my cum. Wanna get you pregnant.” his words only make you moan louder.
“Oh you like that? You like when I talk about filling your cute tummy with my cum? You want my babies, little girl? Hm?” your head bobs up and down as you nod. “Yeah- mm yeah want it so bad daddy please cum in me. I wanna have your babies please Kookie please. Wanna cum wanna cum wanna cum!” you whine. Seeing how absolutely wrecked you are is only getting Jungkook closer and closer. You look completely and utterly fucked out. If his baby wants his cum that's exactly what she'll get.
“Shh precious I’m almost there. Daddy's got you I promise. Rub your pretty clit for me, I wanna see my baby cum ok?” you immediately obey and spit on your fingers before shoving your hand between you two. You rub your swollen clit with quick flicks to get you to cum faster. You just wanna make Jungkook happy. You wanna be his good girl.
It didn't take long for your hand coupled with his cock pounding into your g-spot to get you to cum hard on him. Your limbs spasm and your vision goes white while you distantly hear Jungkook's moaned praises. He cums in you not long after with a whine and keeps thrusting a few times so you can milk him for all he's worth. You both pant heavily as his arms wrap around you tightly, wanting to be as close as possible. He pecks your head repeatedly and buries his face in your hair.
“I love you ____.” he sighs. You giggle and sleepily look up at him. “I love you more.”
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olderthannetfic · 2 years
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checked on a transmasc artist i used to follow before, carrd says: anarchist, dni ppl who like killing stalking (+ u know how this goes), and then some of their art inspos are bl artists 🙄
whats getting to me is most of the stuff they wrote there is the standard woke shit ud find, uplifting marginalized voices etc etc and then the fuckin wall of DNI 'FREAKS'!! right next to that 🤔
i still want to like them but man the cognitive dissonance lol, im so glad i unfollowed when i first spotted the red flags..
--
Oof.
I think this garbage can be especially attractive to young trans men who are in the process of asserting their real gender, especially the ones who aren't getting a lot of support offline. For the guys coming from BL fandom, it's very upsetting to be confronted with the fact that the m/m content they like is part of a subculture that is generally for women. They want to retcon their favorite types of m/m as being for men and about direct, literal representation, making the dark, fucked up, or fantasy kink stuff Bad Rep.
I can only hope that guys in this situation get to a more secure place in their lives. Not only are they jerks to others, but being stuck in this mindset tends to mean they're hanging out with some real assholes who are going to invalidate their gender the instant they set a foot wrong.
Best to avoid this dude till he catches a clue.
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canyouhearmehowl · 3 years
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Warm Your Soul
Angel Reyes x Reader
Warnings: angst, swearing, anxious reader, glimpses of fluff
Words: 2.9k
Summary: You're having one of those days and Angel tries his best to help you see through the fog.
Notes: Trying some Mayans fanfic which is terrifying because everything I’ve read on here is ridiculously good. I was in my feels and ended up writing something for the first time in years. Here goes nothing... Full disclosure, this was extremely self indulgent and I'm just hanging out here waiting for someone to pick me up like this. GIF credit to its owner.
Song inspo: King of Sorrow - Sade
/I want to cook you a soup that warms your soul But nothin' would change, nothin' would change at all It's just a day that brings it all about Just another day and 'nothin's any good/
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‘Can we go somewhere?’
You hadn’t even waited for him to say hello, speaking around the growing lump in your throat.
‘Y/n? You okay?’ The worry in his voice was instant.
‘I… I need to get out of here.’
‘Shit. Alright. I got you, mami. I’ll be there in ten.’ Three beeps sounded in your ear as he hung up and you fought to keep your tears from falling. You wouldn’t spill anymore today. Not for someone who didn’t deserve them, and not for something that wasn’t your fault.
Instead, you let your mind focus on Angel, the tether to him keeping you grounded even though he was nowhere near you. Knowing he was on his way was enough, at least for now.
Ten minutes later you had pulled all your things together, papers and notebooks sorted into haphazard piles. You left them on your desk, post-its on files you knew someone would come looking for. Sliding forward on your chair, you reached under the table in search of your favourite boots. You had hidden them there this morning, trading them for a pair of flats to wear around the office.
You kicked the the flats shoes off, ignoring the thud they made as they hit the back of the wooden desk. You slipped your feet into the leather boots, once again glad that you could get away with wearing black jeans at work without anyone really noticing.
You stood, taking your jacket off the back of your chair to shrug over your shoulders but wincing when the edge of the collar hit your still-sensitive ear. You’d finally done it, gotten another reminder that your body was your own, as were your choices. Small as the helix piercing was, it meant big things to you and you knew Angel would understand that. You forgot why you did these things sometimes, but he was good at reminding you.
Picking up your handbag, you started rummaging around for the jewellery you had hidden there. Your armour of silver rings, bracelets and big silver hoops. Not long ago your boss had told you that it was all a little too much for work, so you'd taken to pulling things on and off. Angel had huffed when you told you him - they're just jealous they can't pull off your hoops mami, he'd said. You, in turn, had argued that you had to pick your battles and jewellery wasn't one that was worth it just yet. You were slipping the back onto your earring when the rumble of a Harley turning off the main road reached your ears, making your stomach flip. He was close.
You glanced at your reflection in the glass of your small office window, wincing at the dark circles under your eyes. You never thought you’d end up here, with what felt like stones in your shoes and a never-ending dread that you weren’t doing something that you needed to. That you weren't pulling your weight.
You just wanted out of the building. Out of the air that felt stifling and the sounds that were starting to grate on nerves you didn’t know you had.
The sound of Angel's motorcycle coming to a stop in the parking lot pulled you out of your spiralling thoughts. You could see him from your tiny office and you watched as he stopped close to the building, unbuckling his helmet before lifting himself up. There was an urgency to his movements and you knew that worry was for you. You hated that you made him worry but there was a comfort that came with knowing that Angel was near; that you didn't have to answer questions because he wouldn't push. Not yet.
In the time you had taken to process that thought Angel had left his Harley and walked into the building. You could just make out his voice as he tried to flirt his way past reception and to your office. You knew he'd be fine without your help. No one stood a chance when Angel Reyes turned on the charm.
Wanting to be ready when he appeared in your doorway you grabbed the things you needed, shoving them into the pockets of your jacket before locking your bag in the draw of your desk. You were tucking the key away when Angel appeared, the slight furrow in his brow giving away his concern.
He didn't say anything, stepping into your office to meet you at the desk. His eyes searched your face for answers, his frown deepening when you offered him the smallest shaky smile you could muster. He moved closer, reaching out to tangle your fingers with his. Angels chunky rings pushed up against your smaller ones ,the familiarity of the cold metal against your skin grounding you once again.
'You ready, mami?'
'Yeah.' Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it.
Frown still creasing his brow, Angel tugged you towards him, his free hand reaching up to rub his thumb lightly across your cheek.
'Which fuckers face do I need bust up?' You let out a shaky laugh, squeezing his hand. You knew Angel would follow through if you gave him a name.
'No one, Angel. I just need to get out of here.'
'Sure?' You nodded, tugging lightly on his hand to get him moving. He dropped his hand from your cheek, leaning forward slightly to touch his warm lips to your forehead before letting you finally pull him out the door.
You ignored the eyes on you as you walked down the hall and back towards reception. Angel didn't come to see you at work often but you had never hidden him or your relationship. You knew gossip had circulated the office about the two of you but that was one of the only things that you didn't let get to you these days. That and you knew that if it didn't put your job at risk, Angel would be flipping off everyone single one of the starers as you walked past. He'd already done it in the parking lot the first time he'd picked you up from work.
You finally made it to reception and out the door, straight into the heat of Santo Padre. Pulling you towards his bike, Angel stopped just short of it, keeping hold of your hand. He put his free one on your hip, twisting you around and tugging you into him. You didn't fight him, letting your body follow his tug before laying your cheek against his chest.
You stayed like that for a minute, Angel resting his chin on your head. Eyes closed, you tried to take deep breaths as you let Angel hold you up. He was so strong, sometimes in ways that you didn't think he even knew yet. He was aways letting you pull from him; letting you take what you needed.
Eventually, though, voices leaving the office reminded you of why he was here in the first place. You pushed away from him and he nodded, placing another kiss on your temple before reaching for your helmet. He was about to put it on when his eye caught the the new sparkle adorning the top of your ear.
'You got it?' He looked down at you, a small smile tugging up the corner of his mouth.
'Yeah.' Angel lifted his hand to your ear, his fingers ghosting over the new piercing. 'What do you think?'
'Fucking gorgeous. You gonna be okay with the helmet on it?' Your heart warmed at his concern, always trying to stop things from hurting you.
'Yeah, it should be okay.' He nodded, gently lowering the helmet over your head and watching your face to make sure you were good. He know you wouldn't actually say anything if it hurt, especially not when you wanted to get away so badly.
Fastening the strap of your helmet, he gave your hip another reassuring squeeze before getting onto the bike and putting on his own. Once he was ready you got on behind him, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head between his shoulder blades.
Angel placed a hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze before tearing out of the parking lot.
You didn't ask where he was taking you. You had your eyes closed for most of the ride but you weren't surprised when the bike slowed to a stop at the edge of your favourite park.
You sat up, taking off your helmet and handing it to Angel before using his shoulder for balance as you dismounted. He followed suit, hanging his helmet off the handlebars before pulling his bedroll off the front end of the bike.
He grabbed your hand and you both started to walk into the park, stopping short when something caught Angel’s attention.
'You hungry?' You shook your head, refusing to meet his eyes. He knew how got when you were anxious; you never had an appetite.
He sighed next to you, pushing the bedroll into your free hand. 'Go find a tree. I'll get us something.'
'Angel, I'm fine. Really.'
He scoffed, sucking in his bottom lip. You weren't fooling him. 'You may be, but I'm fucking starving. Coco ate the burrito Chucky got for me!' The indignation in his voice almost got a smile out of you.
'Alright. The usual tree?'
He nodded, giving your hand one more squeeze before dropping it to make his way to the food truck parked on the corner.
Thirty minutes later, the sun was blaring down on you as Angel polished off his third taco, his eyes watching you closely as you picked at yours. You had managed two bites but just looking at the food was making your stomach roll.
You knew Angel needed an explanation for your getaway beyond silence at some point too. He wouldn't ask for one but he deserved it. He had to have some idea of what was running through your head; you had been together long enough for him pick up what made you tip over. This was different though. This felt some much heavier than normal.
Today you had felt like you were never going to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
'Querida?'
You looked up, meeting his gaze and almost wishing you hadn't. His eyes were full of worry and the frown lines creasing his forehead were perhaps the deepest you had ever seen them. You wanted to reach forward and smooth them out. You hated that they were there because of you.
Wincing, you tried to pick your words carefully to make some sense of the thoughts spinning in your head.
‘It’s never enough.’ The anxious tingling in you fingers was back as you forced the words past your lips.
Angels eyes narrowed as you spoke. 'What do you mean? You're not enough? You're the fucking best, y/n. Better than all those fucking bozos walking around with sticks up their -'
'Angel! That's not.. That's not what I meant. But thank you.'
He shook his head, smiling sheepishly at you. 'You're welcome, but I mean it. I don't know how you put up with the pendejos in that office. Half the time they're speaking fucking gibberish.'
You shook your head, the hint of a smile pulling at your mouth at his frustration. 'Yeah, well...' You trailed off, not sure how to respond. You couldn't exactly defend the people he was talking about. That was part of the reason you found yourself wanting to run away from the office. Not the entire reason though.
You drifted into silence again and you felt Angel shift next to you. He moved so his back was against the thick tree trunk, one hand resting on his knee. He left it there palm up, knowing you would reach for it when you were ready.
He was about to reiterate his offer to kick someones ass when you found your voice again, stopping him in his tracks.
‘For every three steps that I feel like I take forward in that office, something happens, one word or look or breath happens and I’m ten steps back. And it hurts, Angel, because I don’t even know how it starts. I don’t know it’s happening until I’m in the middle of it and I can’t get out. It’s like being stuck in a room with no windows and doors; with no emergency exit. And there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can say because everything feels like it has a repercussion. Everything. And it fucking sucks. And then when things settle and everyone else goes about their day I end up just stuck in this horrible quiet trying to work out what happened, still not knowing what to do. Everything just sits on top of me like a fog I can’t see out of. Like something I'm buried under.’
Tears were flowing down your cheeks now, slow and steady whilst the words tumbled out of your mouth. Angel wasn’t sure that you knew that you had started crying.
‘I don’t know how to do to it anymore. I don’t know how to keep picking myself up anymore.’ Your voice cracked at the last word and he couldn’t keep what little distance was between them anymore. Angel shifted sideways, pushing your shoulders closer before reaching the hand that had been on his knee around you, taking hold of your hip and tugging you to rest against him.
He just wanted to tuck you deep into his side and protect you from everything. All the things that you were talking about and feeling and everything else that dared to make you anything other than happy.
Before he could say anything, offer any other comfort, you spoke again.
‘What if it’s burying me because it’s more than I’m supposed to have? What if I’m reaching for too much?’ Angels eyes narrowed at your words, his fingers pressing tighter against your hip in reassurance. You were one of the strongest people he knew and he hated the doubt he could hear in your voice.
‘Fuck that. You’ve earned every single thing you have, querida, and you know it.’
‘But- ‘ He cut you off.
‘No fucking buts. All those degrees at your age? How many people can say that, huh? No one else I know in this town. You earned that shit. Every part of those fancy-ass pieces of paper are yours and I fucking dare someone to tell you different.’
When you didn’t respond, keeping your eyes trained on the ground Angel dropped his arm from your side, moving so that he was sitting in front of you instead. He reached out, lightly grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing you to meet his eyes.
‘You earned everything you have and everything you’re doing, mami. You’ve earned the trust that people put in you and the respect.’ He could feel you start to shake her your head in his hold as another warm tear dropped onto his thumb. ‘You have, and I will knock anyone who questions that on their fucking ass. I may not have known you way back when, but I know you now. The 110% you give everything doesn’t go to waste.’
‘Doesn’t always feel like it. Sometimes...' You sniffed, trying to hold in a sob. 'Sometimes I feel like I stole someone else’s life.’
Angel shook his head, trying to work how to get you out of the thought spiral you were in. It would take more than the usual I got you. He was going to have to borrow from the Church of Coco.
Dropping his hold on your chin Angel reached for your hand instead, lifting your threaded fingers to his lips before he spoke again.
‘You are exactly where you were meant to be, doing what you are meant to do. It ain’t perfect because your workload is crazy stupid, but it’s that way because people trust you to do the work; they trust you to make shit happen and get it done. That’s a big deal, querida. That level of trust is hard to earn and you’re balancing jobs and learning and life.' He paused, letting out a low chuckle before he spoke his next thought. ' And you're putting up with my ass. That shit ain't a walk in the park... You've been doing it all for so long but the end is so close. A little bit more and you can start kicking some ass in court. You know I’ll be getting motherfucking front row seats for that.’ That finally got a teary laugh out of you.
‘Don’t let the shit people say throw you off now. You’ve worked too fucking hard for that. Too many sleepless nights and half-drunk cups of coffee for that. You just gotta see this last bit through and then the world’s your oyster, mami. You're gonna do great things, and I'll be right next to you whilst you do 'em. Fuck knows why you choose me but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep reminding you of how amazing you are for as long you’ll have me.’ He punctuated his words with another kiss to your fingers and before you could process it, the same hand was tugging your body forward and into his chest.
You fell against him as he let go of your hand, moving to wrap you tightly in his arms. The unexpected warmth of his chest caught you off guard and before you could stop it, the floodgates opened and you lost the fight to keep your sobs in.
Your arms made their way around Angels back, your legs clumsily wrapping around his waist as your hands moved under his kutte to clutch his shirt between your fingers.
‘Shhhh. It’s okay. I got you.’ He tightened one arm around you, loosening the other to gently run his hand up and down your spine. ‘You got this, mi vida, and I got you.’
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cuntess-carmilla · 2 years
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Hello dearest, if you don't mind, do you have some inspo/recommendations on how to combine long black skirts in an outfit for cold weather? (in a femenine romantic way? If that's that type of goth style is described)
What I do for cold weather is I simply wear my corsets or cute blouses/tops on top of black fleece shirts (that usually I modify so that the things have an actual cleavage), sometimes wearing the fleece shirts off-shoulder. Instant cheap warmth and I can get away with looking cute.
I like wearing faux fur coats and jackets too. You can't go wrong with a long coat, if you can find one that's velvety it's even better. I wear a lot of furry scarves.
Something else you can do, for a more Victorian inspired look is wear a button up blouse appropriate for winter in black or another dark rich color buttoned up all the way with a cute brooch on the collar, like a cameo one. Like this:
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The key for goth winter wear besides coats and jackets for me has always been layering and choosing the right fabrics. Velvet, leather, and such. Layering also gives you an opportunity to do really cute things with lace! I dress more monochrome now but I used to love to wear something red with black lace on top of it, it looks really cute. I used to do it a lot by wearing a red top made of the same fabric they make opaque tights from, wearing my black lace shrug over it and a black top so that my arms would be a black lace over red.
Some cardigans can be really cute as well especially if they have nice weight to them. And gloves! Especially if you find velvety ones, they're warm and elegant.
I'd especially look for references in Victorian goth fashion for winter since your interest is romantic goth. Very little skin showing with lots of long skirts. You don't have to go as over-the-top as most of the models there, but you can get inspiration for basic ideas.
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bxffysxmmers · 3 years
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real gods require blood
All gods who receive homage are cruel. All gods dispense suffering without reason. Otherwise they would not be worshipped. Through indiscriminate suffering men know fear and fear is the most divine emotion. It is the stones for altars and the beginning of wisdom. Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. Real gods require blood. - Zora Neale Hurston
- zeus inspo - hera inspo - poseidon inspo - demeter inspo - athena inspo - apollo inspo - artemis inspo - ares inspo - aphrodite inspo - hephaestus inspo - hermes inspo - hestia inspo - dionysus inspo - persephone inspo - hades inspo - modern gods inspo used in blurbs
first thing's first: everyone in this ad should be between the ages of 22 and 27 with the exception of persephone who should be 22 - 24 and demeter who should be 25 - 27. genderbending is okay with me as long as you run it by me first because i don't want to have a million girls, i want it to be fairly balanced. everything said below should be taken with a grain of salt meaning if you put your own spin on it that is totally fine, the inspo is what matters.
additionally, only one or two characters should be from chicago, because the group is a group of people who are imports to the city and the life they have here so please do with that idea what you will. i did link to some cool pinterest boards with some inspo for a modern take on all of the different gods if you want to look at those but again, it's just for inspiration, please please please make every single one of these guys your own.
now, for the actual ad, basically these guys are something of a found family. through their jobs, parties, socializing, exes, currents, whatever they all met and it was almost instant, that connection, that 'feels like i've known you my whole life' thing that came over them. and so they stuck together, even if it was just a group text or once a year dinner party, they've all stayed in touch ever since despite distance, work, time constraints, and anything else that came between them.
the first pair that met and really started it all were aphrodite and ares. they were on again off again, always a problem with time and where their lives were at, but the love is there. they've been friends since their time in school together and it never let up, that care. the rest of the group swear one day aphrodite will find a way to settle down and be with ares but for now ares deals with the on again off again because sometimes is better than never. and then aphrodite found god here, and another one, and their interconnections grew the group and now here they are, family without being blood, with ties running through them, cutting and caressing them all the same.
from there, feel free to just get with me and we can make it work. i'm going to be making a ship developer for them (including a timeline because it seems necessary so that we have some idea on who, what, when, and how) but the basis is a found family plot with interconnections that made this many people come to mean so much to one another. from there? go wild, get with me on any questions, and please have fun with it. some suggestions for interconnections are below in the applicable boxes but if you don't want to use them just talk to me.
and lastly... if you want to add a god who isn't listed please just let me know! give me a little blurb and we can make this happen. remember the slight dystopian feel and the modern twist but like... yes, please, let's do this, i'm here for it. thanks!!
ZEUS. OPEN.
zeus drinks himself half to death at a bar. he no longer cares for mortals. he has long stopped trying to make this world turn.
suggestions: brother to poseidon and hades. married to hera. enters polyship with hera and hestia after cheating scandal. himbo energy.
HERA. OPEN.
hera no longer praises marriage. instead she talks to the women. she tells them that men always lie, tells them to run. she wishes she could take her own advice.
suggestions: married to zeus. enters polyship with zeus and hestia after cheating scandal. better than you.
POSEIDON. RESERVED FOR TESSA.
poseidon still loves the sea but he could not hate mortals more. he feels the pollution of his domain like a phantom pain, raging that he could not protect his oceans from mortals.
suggestions: brother to zeus and hades. has a crush on demeter. moods like the sea.
DEMETER. RESERVED FOR LUNA.
demeter isn't peaceful. she feels the dying of the earth and with it goes her happiness. she curses the mortals who caused this.
suggestions: older sister of persephone. doesn't approve of hades. has a crush on poseidon. the mom friend.
ATHENA. OPEN.
athena chainsmokes in an alleyway, and glares at ares as bloody knuckles and booted feet connect with battered bodies between them. the fight clubs are their temples now.
suggestions: business partners with hephaestus (queer solidarity, y'all). just doing her best. definitely sapphic. possibly once had a thing with aphrodite.
APOLLO. RESERVED FOR THOMAS.
you find apollo in a nightclub on 55th and 3rd, his prophets writhing in intermittent darkness, bassline pounding in their ears, liqour coursing in their veins, smoke and strobe lights clouding their eyes.
suggestions: twin brother of artemis. pansexual and everyone knows it. always chasing the next high, running from the lows. in a secret relationship with hermes.
ARTEMIS. RESERVED FOR DAPHNE.
artemis spends the night in a jail cell, blood on her knuckles and on her shirt and in her mouth, the smell of metal lingering in the air.
suggestions: twin sister of apollo. sapphic pls. the protector meets the vodka aunt. possibly once had a thing with aphrodite.
ARES. RESERVED FOR KITT.
you watch as ares starts a fight in a dive bar, takes a knife from his pocket and uses it without flinching, smiles as he wipes his blade on his thigh, smashes a bottle on the floor and lights a match.
suggestions: on again off again with aphrodite. in love with aphrodite. not currently with aphrodite. just a boy, made of rage and the inability to express his emotions. looks like he'll kick your ass, will pull athena and artemis off of you in a fight, exhausted that he has to yet again. also requested here.
APHRODITE. FREYA WILDER, ATHENA.
aphrodite drinks your worship straight from your lips and chases it with a scotch, crashes a cigarette, flicks the ash on the floor and leaves without so much as a thank you.
suggestions: on again off again with ares. in love with ares. running from ares. most likely to have slept with everyone in the group, twice. intimacy issues? i do know her. i know her so well. someone help.
HEPHAESTUS. OPEN.
you find hephaestus on college campuses, amongst engineering students. in times like this he is more relevant than ever, growing whilst other gods die. it seems that aphrodite is more keen on accepting his gifts now more than ever.
suggestions: business partners with athena (queer solidarity, y'all). once had a thing with aphrodite. a serious thing. didn't end well. they're totes okay now, for sure, yeah, definitely, mhm. patience is a virtue. stubborn pride is a gift. also requested here.
HERMES. RESERVED FOR TONE.
hermes is in the hustle and bustle of rush hour and the rush of the subway. he is perched atop skyscrapers, surveying the beautiful chaos of it all and lo, it is good.
suggestions: brother to hestia. in a secret relationship with dionysus apollo. running to and for, never from. chaotic good gremlin energy. do not feed after midnight. possibly once had a thing with aphrodite.
HESTIA. OPEN.
hestia mourns broken homes, she waits for her family. she waits in the doorway, arms outstretched and a smile like forgiveness waiting to embrace the siblings whom she know will never return.
suggestions: sister to hermes. pretends she doesn't know about dionysus apollo. doesn't approve of dionysus apollo. enters polyship with zeus and hera after cheating scandal. the mediator. why can't we all just get along?
DIONYSUS. OPEN.
dionysus shoots up in a basement in the seedy side of town. he wants to forget the suffering that has filled his immortal life.
suggestions: in a secret relationship with hermes. "gotta stay high, all the time, to keep you off my mind". heart of gold but no one ever seems to believe it. here for a fun time, not a long time, but thinking about that too much hurts.
PERSEPHONE. RESERVED FOR ARI.
persephone grins when people tremble. she is vengeful and wears flowers in her hair and she will make damn sure that the world will never forget her name.
suggestions: younger sister of demeter. in love with hades. she's beauty, she's grace. she'll punch you in the face.
HADES. OPEN.
hades stalks the streets, hazy in the fog of the streetlamps, and he smiles, because people will always believe in death and worship riches.
suggestions: brother to zeus and poseidon. in love with persephone. can you say trauma? secretly the most well rounded and good hearted of them all. how are you so pure, bro? who sent you?
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