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#this is an old piece from a year ago but never got around to post it here
namarikonda · 1 year
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Sideron (they/he/she) is a rogue mastermind but somehow still "struggles" with their harnesses 🙄
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inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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starryeyedjanai · 17 days
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Steve and Eddie meet through their local buy-nothing-sell-nothing group when Steve’s getting ready to move in with Robin and he realizes he can't keep everything he owns while trying to merge households with her.
The first time they meet, Steve hadn't even been meaning to actually meet the person picking up the free toaster oven he’s giving away.
He’s setting his toaster oven outside his house on the porch when Eddie hops out of his van to pick it up and it would be rude to duck back inside without saying anything since he obviously sees him coming up, so they make small talk for a minute and Steve has to keep his eyeballs in check because they keep wanting to rake all the way down this guy’s body.
He’s covered in tattoos and so extremely Steve's type, but he knows better than to hit on someone who lives in his neighborhood and is not here for that reason.
He laments to Robin about it the next day, about the hot guy who’s probably using Steve's toaster oven as they speak, who he’ll probably never see again.
Robin rolls her eyes fondly at him and tells him that maybe if he puts more stuff up for grabs on the facebook group, he might see him again, but Steve suspects she just wants him to get rid of more of his stuff so it doesn't overcrowd their new apartment.
The set of items he puts up in the group next is an old blender and a butcher block that has three of the knives missing—seriously where did those knives go? He has yet to find them.
He tries to pretend he isn't secretly hoping Eddie will comment under his post that he wants the items, but he isn't fooling himself when his heart literally skips a beat when the first comment is from Eddie. He messages him and tells him to stop by later that day.
When Eddie shows up, they talk for longer than last time, Eddie asking why Steve needs to get rid of so much stuff and Steve asking why Eddie needs all this stuff—especially considering Steve snooped through the group and saw that Eddie joined over a year ago and hadn't once commented before now (he doesn't mention that thought, but he is thinking it real hard).
Eddie laughs and says he was in the market for a toaster oven when Steve posted one and wouldn't you know it? He also needs a blender—the knife set is just a bonus, he says.
Steve tries not to read too much into it, but his brain is spinning the interaction around in his head for the next week.
He puts up a space heater in the group and within minutes, Eddie has claimed it.
“I should just get your number and text you directly when I find something I want to get rid of next time,” Steve says flippantly when Eddie comes by to grab it that night. “Instead of clogging up the facebook group.”
Eddie smirks at him and steps a little closer. He says, “Maybe you should.”
His neighbor’s car alarm decides to go off right at that moment, ruining the flirty atmosphere with its incessant shrill. They can barely hear each other over the drone of it, so Eddie leaves without giving Steve his number and Steve is left feeling like he keeps having these missed connection moments with Eddie.
In a fit of desperation to see Eddie again, Steve puts up a bunch of random stuff in the group the next day—a shoe rack that’s missing a piece, a step stool, a cheap side table he got from Ikea—and Eddie is still the first person to comment like he’s been refreshing the page, just waiting for Steve to post.
“I left without giving you my number last time and I didn't want to be creepy and message you unprompted,” Eddie says as they load the side table into his van. “I think I was overthinking things and then got kind of spooked.”
“It doesn't look like anything could spook you,” Steve says.
When they get the side table inside the back of the van, Eddie turns to him and admits, “A very pretty boy could.”
Steve can feel his face getting hot. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks.
Eddie nods. “Why do you think I keep coming here? There's no way a person who’s lived here for as long as I have would need all this stuff.”
“Did you need any of it?” Steve asks in a teasing voice. “Or were you just so blown away by how cute my profile picture is that you just had to meet me?”
“Oh, I needed the toaster oven, but everything after that was just to see you again,” Eddie says before biting his lip.
There’s an entire swarm of butterflies in his stomach when Eddie's hand brushes his, when Steve takes Eddie's hand in his and leads him inside his box-filled house.
Later, when they’re making out on Steve's couch—when Steve really should still be packing since he has to move in less than a week—he pulls back to ask, “Wait, so are you gonna put the rest of the stuff you don't need back up for grabs in the group? I feel like that would start so much neighborhood gossip.”
Eddie grins wide and Steve wants to kiss him again, wants to feel his smile against his mouth.
“Oh, we’ll be the talk of the town, baby,” Eddie says, pulling him back in.
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calisources · 7 months
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ROYAL, FANTASY ROMANCE AND SPICE. all these quotes and sentences are taken from different sources as well some made by myself. change pronouns and places and names as you see fit. some of these are heavy with tension or sexual intention, though nothing too graphic, but you are warned some of these are full of spice and forbidden romance. if you have more suggestions, send them to me and i will add them to this post.
ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. add +reverse to change the roles.
(royal ball): our muses dance at a royal ball. 
(captive in the tower): sender is held captive and receiver helps save them.
(arranged marriage): our muses are thrown together into an arranged marriage.
(childhood betrothal): arranged to wed since being children, our muses finally meet days before the wedding.
(ward): send is a ward at the receiver's house/home. 
(stolen kiss): sender kisses receiver before a battle, away from prying eyes.
(mystery knight): sender is unknown at court and receiver wants to know them further.
(secrets): our muses are together in a secret relationship as their families wouldn’t approve. 
(brother’s keeper): sender is receiver’s brother's best friend. Sender has been harboring a crush since they met.
(taken): sender is taken prisoner by receiver on their ship at sea after a shipwreck.
(horse ride): there is only one horse trope, our muses have to ride together.
(guard): sender is made receiver’s guard and they have to travel/spend time together.
(no one is here to help): receiver is taken to sender as their captive.
(aftermath): after a battle/war, sender and receiver reunite thinking the other was dead. 
(my prince): sender falls for receiver, who is the realm’s prince/princess.
(tourney): sender gives the receiver their favor during a tournament.
(piece of me): sender ties a piece of cloth on receiver’s hand to wrap around a wound.
(you left): sender left receiver years ago, now reunited, receiver is upset.
(last kiss): unsure if they will see each other again, sender kisses the receiver before distracting enemies so receiver can escape.
(under my protection): sender proclaims himself receiver’s protector while receiver is traveling/captive.
(starcrossed): our muses find out they have to marry other people and they reunite at night.
(we were in love once): our muses were together in a relationship in their youth and now see each other after years.
(my castle is yours): sender pledges their castle as a fortress to keep the receiver safe.
(gentle touch): sender heals the receiver of their wounds and inevitably grows close.
(magic): receiver is a being of magical properties and sender finds themselves enthralled by them.
(my paramour): receiver becomes sender’s mistress.
(the bane of my existence): our muses never got along and yet, they harbor feelings for one another after a heated argument.
(maze): our muses lose their guards in a maze and they find each other alone.
(it was always you): our muses are childhood friends about to get married.
(to make peace): from opposite houses, our muses are now married to bring peace.
(corner): behind a corner of the great hall, sender corners receiver after seeing them dance with someone else.
(advisor): receiver works as an advisor for sender, despite objection around court.
(rags to riches): receiver is a bastard now made legitimate and people around the realm came to meet them. Sender is one of them.
(at your service): receiver is a lady in waiting/personal guard to sender’s sibling and a romance develops.
(saved): sender is saved by receiver, who is a healer/witch.
SENTENCES AND QUOTES:
“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”
“He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.”
“Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.”
“I want you—but I don’t want this."
“Rule with the heart of a servant. Serve with the heart of a king.”
“There’s a fine line between gossip and history, when one is talking about kings.”
“I will not share you."
“Well, princess, let’s see what you’re made of.”
“She added the flowers and incense to help mask your own scent.”
“Your eyes betray you. Your body even responds to mine no matter that you’re angry. You want me.”
“He is my ruin. My complete and utter devastation.”
“Just how long have you been sticking it to the girl who’s like a little sister to us?”
“There’s a certain sort of beauty in submission.”
“My story hasn’t been written yet, but I know it begins with you.”
“You will love this man. Do you understand? You will love him, serve him, and obey him in all things. This is your duty to me and to France. Am I clear?’
“She didn’t need a man. She wanted one.”
“Your wish is my command, my queen.”
“It is legal because I wish it.”
“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”
“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”
“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"
“Make no mistake.You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”
“But perhaps, when you sleep, you will dream of me."
“I cannot come with you, my prince.”
“This woman was consuming him, bit by bit.”
“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”
“You are the harbor of my soul’s journeying.”
“We love what we love. We don’t need to justify it to anyone… not even to ourselves.”
“To love something despite. To know the flaws and love them too. That is rare and pure and perfect.”
“The heart is neither given nor stolen. The heart surrenders.”
“Give yourself to me.”
“I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your man to serve.”
“I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?”
“Marriage is a marriage- love or arranged. Both require the same level of commitment.”
“We are trapped by convention and must marry another.”
“We had both accepted the unwritten rule of arranged marriage: love, if it arrived at all, would bloom with time.”
“Be with me. Want me. Stay with me.I don’t know how to be without you.”
“We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle.”
“Mr. Larsen, if you make me cry at my own coronation ball, I’ll never forgive you.”
“You are my very own forbidden fruit.”
“I’m scared, but I’d rather have one real day with you than a lifetime of misguided security.”
“And you, are mine.”
“You think a courtship and a hunt are two separate things. They are not.”
“I will share him with you, I cannot lose him.”
“Why must you resist me so dearly? When you tremble under my touch?”
“You must be made of magic itself. Your touch is warm.”
“One day, I will be able to leave you.”
“Did he touch you? Did you enjoy the way he held you across the room?”
"I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"
“And why, pray tell, should I make it easy?'
"You are the bane of my existence--and the object of all of my desires. Night and day I dream of you."
"I did not ask for this--to be plagued by these feelings."
“I have loved you at every dance, on every walk, and every time we've been together. You must feel it in your heart, because I do."
“Because,by the time I’m done, prayer is the only thing that is going to save you.”
“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”
“You’re not planning to refuse me, are you?”
'Tell me if I do anything you don't like.”
“Say you do not care for me. Tell me you feel nothing and I will walk away.”
“I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.”
“If I wed your sister, it will bind me and you together for eternity, and I will spend every day of my marriage wanting you, dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps.”
“I have never met anyone like you. It is maddening, how much you consume my very being.”
“That scent. It has remained imprinted on my mind ever since that night of the conservatory ball on that terrace. Lilies.”
“I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night because I want you."
“You’re the center of a star, and the force of gravity keeps pulling me closer, and I don’t give a damn that I’m about to be incinerated.“
“Whatever bad thing happened to you, it hasn’t made you less beautiful. There’s beauty in darkness, too.”
“I belong to you. Only you…I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”
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yonch · 3 months
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it's been 15 years and you can see better than ever
(design notes under the cut) (there are spoilers)
ok this got really long. here you go
sif:
ditched the cloak. it was collecting dust in their closet until recently, but they realized they don't need to cling to their grief so much anymore. someone else will need it more soon.
ditched the eyepatch. the prosthetic eye is a labor of love designed by isa, as is literally everything else they're wearing.
they cut their bangs finally and started braiding their hair back so it wouldn't obscure their vision as much anymore.
they like darker/tighter clothing and prefer function over form but unfortunately their gay ass boyfriend keeps treating them like a dress up doll so they're stuck wearing waistcoats and a fancy cloak. (they don't mind. it's designed to look like loop.) they keep flowers in their many pockets to give to people.
they're a woodworker in their free time. they don't usually talk about being any sort of savior so he just becomes sif the guy who's really good at carving birthday presents for people and also tags along with isa to charity parties and fundraisers
41 year old 5'1" they/he absolutely zero intention of Changing. bonded to isabeau. they adopted a kid who leo or i might post about some other time i think. her name is estelle.
isa: i'm not taking credit for the design that's by my friend @fembard /@leoweooo. i'll include his design notes
isa dresses mostly for comfort, he doesn't like wearing stuff that might get stained or ruined when he's dyeing clothes or chasing stelle around in the mud or something, all his fashion sense goes into his handiwork
he Changed a few more times over the 15yrs, eventually settled. picked up she/her pronouns again on the side but was never really able to ditch the name isabeau and he kinda ran out of names anyways...
kept the long hair, kept a few inches in height, very happy to fulfill the role of male (space) wife
can't ditch the kimono jacket it's the piece de resistance. odile influence and Wisening Of Age means its made with a little more knowledge of ka buan technique but still very clearly an Isa Design. the fabric is imported silk sif!!!!!!
39 year old Tall with a capital T he/she "i swear i'm not a weeaboo i'm just really into ka buan fashion" vaugardian indie clothing designer in your area help support this man in his attempts to use his family members as living advertisements for his brand
mira: with design input from @jastertown thank you my friend
i took a lot of inspiration for the sparkly, sheer fabric on her dress from euphrasie. she's not head housemaiden yet because she doesn't feel like she's ready but everybody knows it'll be her
speaking of inspiration. she's been taking a lot of fashion cues from a certain lady in dormont that she thought was kind of scary, but it turns out she's very nice? they're besties now.
she got rid of the earrings for a little bit but then she realized she just liked how they look on her. so now they go ding ding! it's for her and nobody else, and that's how she likes it.
moved her ornaments to her skirt because they ding ding more often there. her necklace also jingles with merriment.
38 year old she/her advanced cisgender+ legend who's realizing that people are trying to get her to be the pope but all she really wants to do is write yaoibait fiction that looks like it came straight off of ao3
odile:
my glorious hag. she started shrinking about 3 years ago. all those years of bending over books has finally caught up to her. her hips are fuuuuuucked. but she has a sick cane that sif carved for her so everything's okay
she was already pretty comfortable and settled in her sense of style when she was nearing 50 so i don't think she would change much. darker clothing maybe. ditched the high-waisted pants for some looser slacks.
she's started writing a familytale of her own. the only person she's told about it is bonbon, who caught her up way past their bedtime, and scribbled all over one of the pages. she'll pass it on to sif when the time's right, after she's written down everything she can remember about their family.
64 year old she/her wasian researcher recovering from hernia surgery who's getting really into things like "political activism" and "body craft law reformation in ka bue" and "making sure people aren't sourcing their hrt from back alleys"
bonnie:
prefers to go by boniface these days. it's cooler. more mature. please stop calling me bonbon that's a nickname from when i was 10 guys c'mon guys ugh fine frin you can still call me bonbon but not around my girlfriends ok (nobody calls them boniface except for odile)
speaking of which they have 3 butch lesbian girlfriends. this got established as a joke but i think they have it in them. they're still young!!!!!!! they should be at the club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
they traveled for a while with everybody but eventually settled down back in bambouche to start a little family owned restaurant with nille featuring dishes from all over the globe. people travel from all over to get a taste of boniface's good eats... bambouche is bustling. (they have a few recipes that are sourced from the country. they meet people every once in a while who find something achingly familiar about it, and they usually direct those people to jouvente to get in contact with frin.)
26 year old they/them "i dont know how tall i am but i'm taller than za" chef cooker whose restaurant keeps lighting on fire because this time i swear nille i can figure out how to do cooking craft i swear i wont explode the kitchen this time please i promise
loop:
ok. this is where lozy gets to just talk about what he thinks happens post game. i think they stick around for way longer than they really should and follow the crew around on their travels (mostly invisibly) because they're sooo fucking scared of change they're sooo scared and they're so scared of their wish fucking up beyond belief. they're kind of incapable of aging or dying in this body and theyre like permanently 26 which is what spurs them to finally move on.
i think they go back to their timeline eventually after making a Brand New Wish to "go back to their real family." alas the universe leads and we can only follow. and it turns out loop has actually made a real family in stardust's world also. this is my justification for why they can pop in between sasasap and isat worlds without much repercussion. i think they're always permanently loop shaped in isat but i imagine they can probably go back to their original body in their home timeline... might design that later. who knows. i'm fucked like that
i just think they deserve a chance for their own happy ending you know. isat's a game about how it's never too late to communicate and how you shouldn't punish yourself forever and ever. and i think theyve punished themself enough you know.
ok tank you for reading if you read this far. it's really big and long so i would understand if you didn't. but i hope you liked it. thoughts appreciated. here's a little something for the people who read all the way through.
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midnightsnyx · 2 months
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aaron hotchner | photograph
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
a/n: i’ve never written criminal minds before but i have always been a die hard fan & wanted to try writing new characters other than what i usually write so i wrote this little blurb and decided to post it. pls be gentle, im sensitive lol
word count: 600
contrary to popular opinion, aaron hotchner wasn’t as cold as he seemed. he just needed to be around the right people, be around his people.
you knew this from the moment you met him, when he frantically rushed to the customer service desk after his name was paged over the intercom. you were doing your grochery shopping when you bumped into a lost little boy. he told you his name was jack, and that he had accidentally wandered away from his daddy. as you walked him to the customer service desk, he assured you that he absolutely was not scared but his dad would be and you needed to call him right away.
“daddy gets scared if he can’t find me,” jack told you solemnly while you waited with him until his dad showed up.
you were a kindergarten teacher and despite the insistence of the employee, your instinct was to stay with jack until his father arrived. in the short time that you spent with him, you learned a small amount about the boy. he told you that he wanted to be superman for halloween, he was six-years-old and his daddy worked for the FBI.
“jack!”
you turned your attention away from the boy to see a frantic looking man rushing towards the two of you. jack immediately jumped off the counter and raced towards his father, letting himself be scooped up and hugged tightly. you started to walk away, confident that jack was safe when a voice stopped you.
“thank you,” a deep voice said and you turned to see jack’s father looking at you.
you smiled. “no problem, just doing what anyone would do.”
he smiled tightly, and shook his head. “not everyone.”
you didn’t understand the deeper meaning behind his words until you’d been dating for a few months and he finally let you into the darker side of his life. after the cases that didn’t end well, and you got a first hand glance at just how cruel people could be.
“aaron,” he introduced himself, still holding jack but offering you his hand.
you shook it, told him your name and when jack innocently asked you to go for ice cream with them, you took the leap and accepted.
that was over a year ago, and you can’t imagine your life now without the two of them. even if your laundry doubled in size.
aaron had a bad habit of leaving his wallet in his pants pocket so you always had to double check every pocket before you put the clothes in the washer.
you were doing a load of laundry, shaking a pair of pants when his wallet tumbled out onto the floor. a picture fell out of it, and you smiled softly when you picked it up and saw a photo of you and aaron, taken at some dinner at rossi’s house. neither of you were looking at the camera, aaron’s hand tucking a loose piece of hair behind your head and you laughing at something.
you were staring at the photo for too long, because when a pair of arms wrapped around your waist you jumped but immediately relaxed when you looked up and saw aaron smiling at it.
“you keep that photo of us in your wallet?” you asked and he hummed.
“and a picture of jack,” he replied. “something to remind me that there’s still good in the world, even on the worst days.”
you turned around and wrapped your arms around him, tucking your face in his neck.
“i love you,” he whispered and you smiled.
“love you too.”
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prismatic-bell · 10 months
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It’s 4am and I’m having emotions about calling Mesopotamia “the cradle of civilization” so y’all are just going to have to bear with me.
Like okay, there are technically six so-called cradles of civilization: Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, ancient China, ancient India, and two civilizations in south and Central America called the Olmec (Mexico) and Caral-Supe (Peru). But the one we all learn about in school is Mesopotamia, bleeding into Egypt.
But.
The oldest of those is the Fertile Crescent (Egypt, the Levant, Mesopotamia), clocking in around 12,000 BCE. That’s the 121st century BCE, if you’re wondering. “Behavioral modernity,” I.e. the thing that separates Homo sapiens from Homo erectus and Homo heidelbergensis, began 160,000 to 60,000 years ago. Homo sapiens was found in most of Africa before ever beginning the migration to other continents—by over 80,000 years, in some cases.
And we all know how Africa got treated in the post-Roman era.
How do we know there was no cradle of civilization in Africa? Like. It’s generally taken that “cradle of civilization” means cities, agriculture, and usually-but-not-always a writing system. We also know that if all humans on earth disappeared right now, in 15,000 years the only sign we were ever here would be a millimeters-thin line of plastic in the geologic record. And that’s in a world where we have stainless steel, concrete, the ability to carve in stone…
What I’m saying is, the oldest piece of string in the world is 50,000 years old and it was found in a cave. Huge swathes of Africa used to be green and lush. If some group ten thousand years ago decided to build a settlement out of mud bricks and tied-up pieces of wood in the African jungle, we’d never know today. The entire thing would have washed out and rotted away centuries ago. “Okay but agriculture—” one, not all agriculture is white people agriculture, and some of it is so different we wouldn’t recognize it at all (consider the terraforming east coast Native tribes did in North America that was so different from European farming methods it was taken as divine intervention in primeval forest). And two, I forget how many years it’s estimated to take before our fancy modern crops return to their wild roots once we’re gone, but I’m pretty sure it’s less than a hundred. We literally would have no way to tell anything was ever there.
And let’s say something did, by some miracle of preservation, survive to the “modern cradles of civilization.” Would it have survived subsequent wars and colonization? How about the changing climate as continents broke apart and ice ages came and went? Would we even have found it, given how gigantic it is and how little regard it’s received through the years?
Like. I could be totally wrong. But I also don’t see why it’s impossible for a civilization to have popped up in Africa like thirty thousand years ago for a century or two and then everyone went “ah, fuck this” and went back to being nomads. It happened at Cahokia. The city was abandoned and we don’t know why, but we do know there’s no evidence the mound-builders ever tried to rebuild somewhere else. And right here in my proverbial backyard, in Arizona, we had the Sinagua tribe, and in like the 1500s or so they just…dipped. There was a whole city built into the side of a cliff (two of them, actually, a few miles apart) and for unknown reasons they were abandoned. Archaeological evidence suggests the Sinagua moved northeast to join the Yavapai and Hopi tribes, but we have no idea why they left the Verde Valley. Water was still plentiful and even if Beaver Creek had started to dry up in summer—which is what it does today—only five miles away was a second city built around a sinkhole that’s still full of water today year-round (although it’s not potable by modern standards due to arsenic content in the water). Both were abandoned sometime in the 1400s for unknown reasons, and before you say “white people,” I will remind you white people didn’t come to America until 1492 and the site wasn’t discovered until over 100 years after it was abandoned.
So yeah. Maybe ancient civilizations in Africa so long ago, or so thoroughly erased by racist Europeans, that we’ll never know.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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lil-tachyon · 4 months
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What all roleplaying games have you worked on?
I'll try to name them all here but there are a lot and some of them are pretty small so I may miss a few by accident.
Epochrypha (2018) by Skerples was both the first piece of paid work I did and also the first game supplement I worked on. This is so old I was still inking digitally.
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I also provided illustrations for Magical Industrial Revolution and The Monster Overhaul by the same author.
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Monster Overhaul was neat because I did interior illustrations in early 2020 but didn't do the cover until 2022 so you can see quite a stylistic evolution.
From 2018 to 2020 things were pretty quiet for me until I worked on The Shifting City by Dank Dungeons. People really liked the cover for some reason and that basically created a career for me. I still get people asking me to basically recreate this cover a few times a year:
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I did a handful of illustrations from 2020 to 2022ish for Ukuwa Station that ended up in The Field Guide to Mfecane, a third party afrofuturist Lancer expansion.
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Our Vale of Discontent was a small game I worked on in 2020:
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Mycosis is a Mork Borg dungeon I worked on around this time, which notably marked my first attempt at doing some goofy black metal title font.
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I did most of my illustration work for Desert Moon of Karth by Joel Hines in late 2020 and early 2021:
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The sequel, Tide World of Mani is still being worked on. I just finished my last interior illustrations for it a month or two ago.
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AZAG by Dank Dungeons was a game I worked on throughout 2021 that was a blast and I think more people should know about.
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At some point in 2021 I did a bunch of pieces for Lore & Legacy although I don't remember exactly when. These never got posted but the book's been out for a while now so maybe I'll show them off later.
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Late in 2021 was when I started doing illustrations for The Electrum Archive by Emiel Boven (I think issue 2 is out soon).
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Early 2022 I did a bunch of character illustrations for some Victorian horror fantasy game that I don't think ever actually came out (commissioner never responded to me when I asked about it at least) which is a shame because I'm proud of these. At least I got paid!
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This was another one for a game that I don't think ever came out:
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I did character designs for Nebula Chaos by Polyhedra Games in 2022:
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Then Neon Saber by Olivia Miller
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Then some pieces for If Worlds Collide:
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Then Critters & Companions by Pearse Anderson:
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Ran out of space for images, I'll finish this in part 2...
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dfortrafalgar · 1 month
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Special Delivery
(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)
Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.
I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!
You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link
(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)
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A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.
A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.
The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.
All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.
Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.
"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.
-- Sanji"
Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?
Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.
Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.
The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.
Zeff flipped to the last photo.
The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.
Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.
Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.
Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.
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jinnie-ret · 7 months
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imagine how cute it would be if skz 9th member had either a young kid or had custody of their young sibling. the boys helping out with raising the kid, like having 8 fun uncles or brothers. maybe a touch of angst about negative publicity about the reader having a young kid. i just think it would be cute if sometimes the kid was seen in the back of mvs sometimes or in the games they play. basically just skz with kids makes my heart melt <33
my aegi
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stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
genre: fluff, angst
content warnings: parental loss, car accident
word count: 1.9k
summary: y/n was glad she had the boys there to help her raise her kid sister. she didn't know what she'd do without them.
Thank you so much for your request! Such a sweet idea! Sorry it's late, but I hope you enjoy it!
As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"Unnie! Unnie!" the sound of your younger sister calling for you filled the room, small footsteps padding across the floor until she found you and wrapped her arms around your legs, you picking her up in response.
"Were you looking for me?" you smiled at her, booping her nose and getting a giggle in response. You loved it when she laughed.
There was a time in your life when you thought you'd never see her smile again. 2 years ago, when she had only been 4 years old, and you, 18 years old, your parents had gotten into a fatal car accident, no other family around to be able to look after her. It was a hard time, just coming into a time out of lockdown when you had hoped to be able to see them again, yet that had all been taken away from you, at least you had your sister, Jisun. You were thankful to the company that they allowed you to look after her, as you really doubted that it would have been possible.
"Wanted a hug!" Jisun clung onto you, nuzzling her head into your neck, making you laugh.
"Made some breakfast, Sunny, want some pancakes sweetie?" you asked her, giggling yourself when she squirmed out of your arms and nodded. For someone who was so clingy in the mornings, food could really affect her mood.
Jisun had been really quiet after the death of your parents. She was sad, non verbal, always wearing a vacant expression. You were so glad that the boys were there to support you taking care of her, and lift her spirits. Her older brothers, who she each called 'oppa', could certainly bring her out of a bad day, even if it took all of them trying to make her laugh or sing to her. It surprised you at first, how much it had affected her. Selfishly, you hoped that she didn't remember them that much, but only so she didn't get more hurt in the process. But it was only a couple of months into being her primary guardian that you realised she did remember them. She couldn't forget about the cuddles from your mother, or being tucked in at night by your father, but she found a piece of that in you and the rest of the boys.
"Are there any pancakes left for us?" Chan rubbed his eyes tiredly as he entered the kitchen, the boys following in soon after, each of them hugging you in some sort of way.
"Nope, just for my Jisun," you teased as you did her hair from where she was sat at the table.
"Plaits or ponytail?"
"Pony pony!" Jisun cheered, making you and the rest of the boys coo at her.
"Pony pony!" Changbin and Felix cheered along with her.
"Ponytail it is my Sunny," you smoothed down her hair before fulfilling her request.
"I'm joking by the way, there's some pancake mixture left I'll make some more in-"
"It's fine, Y/Nnie, we'll finish up with it. Have you done some for yourself yet?" Lee Know got up and stirred the mixture so it didn't stick to the bowl, before pouring some into the pan.
"Ah not yet, I got distracted, but-"
"No buts, finish getting Jisun ready, sort yourself out, and then we'll have it here waiting for you," Seungmin waved you off, but you weren't going to let them deny you that easily.
"It's fine just let me," you began, only to be cut off again.
"No, take some time for yourself, yeah? We can look after Jisun too," Hyunjin got up and patted your shoulders, steering you around making you giggle as he gently pushed you towards the direction of your room.
With a sigh you got ready, so grateful to be surrounded by people around you who supported and understood your situation. At the start, when your situation had been revealed to the world that Jisun was now in your custody, fans hadn't taken to the situation too kindly. Some of them, instead of sending messages wishing you well and hoping that you would be ok, thought it was a ploy to cover up the fact that Jisun was your child. They thought JYP was so messed up that they faked your parents' deaths just to be used as a cover-up that you were a mother from the age of 16. You would have mixed preferred that if it meant your parents were still here with you, at least then you would have been able to have seen them become grandparents. Stays, the real ones, soon became more understanding of your situation, many of them calling you brave, and saying that they wouldn't have been able to do it at your age. 2 years on, at the age of 20, you didn't know yourself how you had been managing it. It just felt so natural.
"Y/Nnie? You ok?" Jeongin tentatively knocked at your open door, seeing you sat and staring blankly into space.
"Hmm?" you blinked yourself out of your thoughts, spraying some perfume on before grabbing your phone and Jisun's bag ready for the day.
"You were in your world again," Jeongin laughed at, brushing some stray hairs out of your face.
"Oh sorry, was just umm, making sure I had everything for Jisun ready today, it's the first time she's come along with us to an interview in a while," you smile shortly, yet it didn't fully reach your eyes as you headed back into the kitchen.
"Eat up, Y/Nnie," Han placed a plate in front of you as instructed by Lee Know and patted your head as he returned to his own seat.
"How long til we have to leave?" you asked, not even taking a bite yet.
"About five minutes, but we can take longer if we need, you haven't even eaten yet, I don't want you to rush," Chan said to you sternly, knowing you'd often forget about things in favour of the young girl sat in his lap.
"Is Jisunnie excited?" you asked your younger sister with a smile, taking a bite of your breakfast as she mirrored your facial expression.
"Yes! I miss the staff unnies and oppas!" she cheered.
"Oh, so you won't miss your oppas?" Changbin tickled her sides as she burst out laughing.
"Dwaekki oppa is too loud!" she yelled with laughter.
"I think you've got some competition there, Binnie," you laughed at Jisun contradicting herself, yelling just as, if not louder than Changbin.
Soon you had finished your food and it was time to head to the interview. You weren't nervous per say, but you knew it was more of a sit down and chatting interview which meant personal questions too.
"Sunny, be a good girl for your unnies, yeah?" you kissed her on the head.
"Yes Y/Nnie unnie!" she cutely placed a kiss on your cheek before following the stylists and managers backstage, watching in a room with a screen to see your interview unfold.
You couldn't help but watch over where she had walked off.
"Come on, she'll be fine," Felix guided you towards the stage, where chairs were set up in front of an audience, the interviewer, Kaelee, was sat waiting.
"Here we have, Stray Kids!" the audience went wild as you all walked in, taking a seat.
There were questions about music here and there, and then almost felt the air get thicker as her eyes shifted towards you. Thankfully a gentle smile was accompanied with it.
"So, Y/N, we understand that you take care of your sister?" she asked you.
"Ah yes, my Jisunnie, she is the sweetest girl," you replied with a smile, shyly looking down at your lap, when the audience cooed as photos of the two of you, and some with the boys appeared on screen.
"Those are our girls," Chan couldn't help but admit, the boys nodding along as the Stays 'awwed' once more.
"Boys, what do you make of Y/N here as an older sister, is she good?" Kaelee put the question out to everyone.
"I think she's really brave," Jeongin nodded.
"She's inspiring for sure," Minho added on.
"Her bravery, to go through what she has at such a young age, and raise a child, I think she's doing amazing," Hyunjin sweetly said, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder as you wiped some stray tears away.
"Well, on that note, if it's ok with you, Y/N, should we bring out Jisun?" Kaelee double checked it was ok with you before your personal manager, who was Jisun's favourite, walked her out. Jisun soon ran straight into your lap, nearly tackling you back against the floor as the audience cheered and squealed wildly.
"Not too loud, Sunny?" you whispered into the girl's ear as she turned to face the audience whilst sat in your lap.
"No it's ok!" she giddily smiled, holding onto your hands.
"Wow! It's like she's made for the screen! Jisunnie, can you do aegyo?" Kaelee asked her.
You couldn't see exactly what she did, but it looked like she held up a peace sign at the audience and grinned, showing off her adorable gummy smile. The whole time Stays saw you smiling behind her proudly, and thought that it was the most mature they had ever seen you, when you were around Jisun.
"I taught her that!" Changbin cheered, folding his arms as he was proud of himself.
"No, Seungminnie oppa did," Jisun turned to correct Changbin, making you all burst out into laughter.
"Wow, Jisun you really are so funny. What do you want to be when you're older?" Kaelee wiped a tear of laughter away and neatened up her cue cards as she asked Jisun another question. You rubbed her arms soothingly in case she got nervous.
"I want to be like unnie!" Jisun looked up at you as she said this, making your heart melt into a puddle on the floor.
"Oh really?" you almost felt emotional, managing to hold it back for the rest of the interview as you walked off at the end, holding Jisun's hand.
"Oppa will hold your hand, Jisunnie," Felix took her hand, sending a sympathetic smile your way as he walked her to the cars.
You lightly sniffle as you wiped a tear away.
"Ah, Y/Nnie, what are we going to do with you?" Han playfully sighed as he walked next to you with an arm around your shoulder.
"Sorry, I'm just, I'm so proud of her and when she said-" you couldn't finish your sentence, tears falling from your eyes.
"Aish, come here, love, it's ok," Han pulled you into a hug, tightly securing you to him as you felt safe in his warm embrace.
"You know that we're proud of you too?" Chan came up beside the two of you.
"Yeah, I know, I know," you laugh lightly as you wipe your eyes, "gosh I feel so silly, she's just growing up so quickly."
"We see it too, but don't think you have to raise her on your own, we're here for the both of you. So if you ever need time to yourself, we'll look after her, you know that," Chan kissed you on the head.
"What you went through, no one should have to, you're so young, Y/Nnie," Han wiped tears from your cheeks.
"I'm only 3 years younger than you," you laughed at him.
"I'm being sentimental, let me be. Now come on, bet Jisun is wondering where you are. We better head to the cars," Han suggested, Chan nodding which ultimately made the three of you head to the cars.
You and Jisun had lost your parents, but you both had 8 brothers there for you. It was an odd family, and not just by personalities, but somehow, you all made it work.
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain
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toji-girl · 2 months
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got you | t. fushiguro
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synopsis: Being an assassin means you don't have much time to yourself and that you're a strong person, but how strong are you really when it comes to Toji?
wc: 3.4k
tags: 18+ ONLY content + minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + modern au (no curses) + Toji is a politician + blow job + pussy eating + unprotected sex + creampie + fingering + slight dom! Toji + spitting in mouth + cum eating + bondage with his belt + he might be ooc + alcohol but no one is drunk + overstimulation + this is Halloween based (it's my favorite) + talks about murder + hard degradation + any missing tag pretty please lmk, I did edit it but I am human so I might've accidentally forgotten something!!
AN: I posted this on my very first blog which was four years ago give or take and this has been rotting in my docs for such a long time so I cleaned it up and dusted it off!! so if you notice any differences just know it's very old!!
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You looked in the mirror adjusting your dress that sported a thigh-high slit along with the lace garter that held a small dagger you were to use on your target, Toji Fushiguro.
After grueling hours reading about him you felt like you knew him well enough to gather his attention, his sadism and arrogance would make this easy for you. You grabbed your tube of lipstick swiping it over your lips to complete the look for the evening. 
Tonight’s the night of some Halloween party that Toji’s friends were throwing a party of the sort so you snagged a date with your co-worker Satoru who walked out of the bathroom wearing a three-piece suit that fit the bill, he looked you up and down slowly with a smile. 
“Toji won’t be able to resist you in that.” He commented adjusting his tie, a sly smile played on your lips as you looked back in the mirror smoothing the dress down and feeling a flutter of butterflies flap in your belly. 
A huge payload was promised if you could actually get the job done, Toji knew that a price tag hung on his head but he’s very cunning and swift on his feet and incredibly smart which drew you to the job in the first place because you’re just the same, if not even better. 
You grabbed the lace masquerade mask and tied it around your head.
“Are you ready Satoru?” He nodded his head and you followed him out of the hotel room towards the elevator where you two rode down, as soon as you stepped into the lobby your senses were on high alert, being an assassin never ended, and neither did living in hotels or unfavorable places to make sure you got your job done. 
He opened the limo door for you so you slid in first followed by Satoru. Thankfully the ride went silent as you thought of your plan on how to seduce him, once you got a few plans mastered you put on a bright smile when you stepped out of the limo. Satoru held your hand while you carefully avoided any pictures being taken of you.
“Why not just sneak through the back?” You asked annoyed with the flashing and loud crowd of people. 
“Because you don’t just sneak into a Ball at the Fushiguro’s,” Satoru said still smiling, you rolled your eyes and then finally reached the top of the stairs where two guards wearing white tuxedos opened the door so two could step in making sure no unfavorable people were trying to sneak in. 
Classical music could be heard from almost every corner and people dressed in all sorts of classy costumes walked around making you pat yourself on the back for not choosing something flashy like them, the last thing you wanted was more than just your target's attention.
Satoru led you further inside until you found him. 
He stood closer to the corner with a glass in his hand, you sucked in a breath not realizing how handsome Toji really is, sure you’d seen pictures of him at a far distance when you stalked him to gather more information but seeing him this close made something deep inside you clench, Satoru took notice and walked towards Toji and the group of men, this isn’t the time to get all flustered and embarrass yourself you thought so you put on a dazzling smile.
“Satoru! How have you been?” Toji asked when we got closer and that’s when you noticed the small dark red devil horns nestled in his dark hair, oh fuck. His teeth shone when he talked and you could see his sharp canines gleaming under the light and that scar held a story you wanted to read. 
“I’ve been doing good, work keeps me busy. And you?” You stopped listening to the conversation and looked around silently then Toji turned his attention to you.
“And what’s your name beautiful?” It took everything inside of you not to roll your eyes, you gave him your name which he repeated. He took one of your hands shooting a bolt of electricity down your arm and straight to the pool of desire, he kissed the back of your hand and smirked at you, his emerald eyes trained on your face.
Pulling your hand away you tucked it behind Satoru and smiled warmly. “I’m going to go get something to drink.” You whispered in his ear, he nodded and you left the group and walked around the dance floor straight to the bar where you got a flute of champagne leaving it in your hands, turning around you watched people slow dance and giggle, clutching the flute harder in your grasp you made conversation with the man next to you so you didn’t seem too suspicious.
Part of your brain listened to the man nodding and responding when it was appropriate and the other part on high alert and that’s when you saw Toji dancing with a woman dressed similar to you, his hand dangerously low on her back.
He whispered something in her making her giggle as she threw her head back. Rolling your eyes you walked around looking for Satoru to see him buried in his mission, he stood next to a gorgeous blonde sweet-talking her so you busied yourself by going back to the bar to grab another flute.
“Might want to take it easy,” Toji said next to you suddenly, looking over you saw the evil grin on his face while he leaned over the bar, he gripped a glass of what’s probably whiskey in his hands, his thumb rubbing the edge.
An image of his thumb rubbing something else popped into your mind.
“It’s not like I’m driving tonight.” You countered taking a sip.
“Well, how about a dance then?” He asked straightening up, he abandoned his glass and held his hand out for you to grab, the pulsing need for him took over your body, but he didn’t let on he knew as he tugged you to the dance floor.
A soft classical song began to play as his hand rested on the small of your back, his other hand held your hand in the air while your other hand rested on the back of his neck, and his soft hair tickled your hand. “I didn’t think a man like you would have music like this.” You said out loud, Toji cocked his head and looked at you.
“A man like me?” He quipped. 
“You know, political. Usually, those types get caught with their hands in the cookie jar so to say, so something this beautiful to be played in unheard of.” You replied with a snarky smile. 
“A cookie jar, huh? I usually prefer,” He leaned closer and whispered in your ear, “a skirt, or a dress. It doesn’t matter to me.” He pulled away gauging your reaction which disappointed him a bit.
“Also, classical music is said to be the perfect genre to commit murder, and what’s better to have a murder on Halloween?” He raised an eyebrow and that’s when you realized that he had moved you two closer to the edge of the dance floor, just as the crescendo sounded he pulled your leg up, holding it against his waist, and he let go of your hand, then he grabbed the back of your thigh, once he felt the small dagger he clicked his tongue.
“What a sad attempt but let’s make a deal.” He mused grinning. 
Those devil horns suited him.
“A deal?”
You couldn’t believe you were caught, a wave of disappointment and anger washed over you, all the training and recon had failed.
“You come to my room and I won’t kill you.” He offered with a smile. 
A laugh bubbled from your lips, “Are you serious Fushiguro? Now that you know I’m here to kill you is that where you really want to go?”
“Yes, and I know it’s where you want to go as well. As soon as I saw you I could almost smell your arousal, that sweet scent settled over me. Think of it as bloodlust but remove the blood, unless that’s something you're into?”
“Cocky for a man who’s about to die.” You shot back, he let go of your leg and turned to a hallway close to where you two stood.
“Mhm?” He nodded his head, looking around the room you followed him down the hall, your high heels clicking against the marble floor. After passing a few doors he stopped abruptly and opened the door to reveal a large bedroom, he walked in and you followed.
As soon as he shut the door he removed his jacket, “In exchange for your life you’ll let me have you for the night, sound good?” He asked while unbuttoning the cuffs on his wrists to roll the white sleeve to his elbows which only made him ten times more attractive, he looked at you like a lion, and you were the antelope.
Lust flared up licking your body as you shed your mission of the night all though you knew what was to come but you wanted this just as bad as Toji did as well, you’re one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen.
“Just for one night?” You asked looking around the room as Toji nodded.
After the agreement you wasted no time closing the distance between you, his arms wrapped around your back while yours went around his neck, his lips met yours hungrily, nothing about this was romantic or sweet and it wasn’t like you wanted to make love with him. 
You opened your mouth fully expecting to meet Toji’s tongue but instead, you felt his lips still pressed together. You pulled away seeing your lipstick smeared against his mouth, a deep dark red staining his pale flesh. 
His thumb jerked against your bottom lip, “What a pretty color. I want to see it around my dick.” His voice was laced with a husky drawl. 
His vulgar words sent another bolt of hunger through you, and without a second thought you sunk to your knees on the hard floor, Toji stood over six feet so he craned his head to watch as you undid his belt, then unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks, pulling them down to his knees watching as you palmed his erection, his cock long and thick, when he jerked his boxers down your eyes and mouth went slack.
“Be careful, with an open mouth like that you might attract flies.” He teased, opening your mouth more you sucked in the engorged head and licked, at first you focused on the tip but soon his entire length disappeared in your mouth, his moans rang heavenly in your ear as you pulled back but his hands grabbed a fistful of your hair ultimately ruining the style you worked on and removing your masquerade mask but at this point, you didn’t care.
With a thrust of his hips, you were swallowing him whole making you begin to gag and try to breathe, “Through your nose.” Toji commented watching you struggle, you inhaled and exhaled against his skin as his sack rested against your throat.
“Good girl.” He praised in a sweet voice, your head began to bob up and down but it wasn’t fast enough for Toji so he stopped you and started to throat fuck you, tears mixed with mascara streamed down your face giving Toji a sick satisfaction so much that his breathy moans kicked up a notch and so did his words.
“Such a good little cock sucker.”
Wet gagging reverberated throughout the room as you deep-throated him nuzzling your nose in the curly hair surrounding the base of his cock that hit the back of your throat leaving a bulge straining against the flesh. 
You worked your mouth over him kissing down the length of him before kissing his heavy and swollen sack that throbbed as you rolled it between your hands gently while sucking the swollen tip sultry. 
Between the warm tight confine of your throat and the tears, he felt his orgasm coming hot and ready, and his cum spewing in your mouth, just as you were about to swallow he withdrew from you.
“Open.” Opening your mouth he smiled seeing his cum on your tongue, leaning down he spit in your mouth which only amped his satisfaction up by a few more notches.
“Swallow like the little cum slut you are.”
With no choice, you swallowed and it wasn’t like he was wrong. 
He pulled you away by your hair and helped you up to your feet quickly. 
You wiped your swollen lips, Toji watched in primal interest, “Now it’s my turn to taste that sweet cunt.” He looked at the bed, turning around you walked over to it and sat down on the edge letting him push you on your back and sink to his knees where he opened your legs then he inhaled deeply and growled.
His fingers hooked in your panties and tore them from your body drawing a protest from your lips.
“Ah, ah, ah. Remember that you’re mine for the night.” Toji reminded you when you sat up ready to chastise him for doing so. 
He was quick to bury his nose against your cunt, his tongue darted out licking a wide stripe over you. He hooked his arms under and over your thighs pulling you closer to the edge, his expert tongue found your clit teasing and sucking, and the warmth spread over you like a blanket.
“Toji!” You whined, hearing his name spill from your pretty mouth made his cock stiffen again, to him you were the sweetest fruit he’s ever tasted before and he wanted more so he thrust two fingers inside, and instantly your walls sucked him in deeper.
You moaned feeling your orgasm about to rip you apart, with the final thrust of his fingers you came on his tongue which only served to embarrass you more coming so soon and Toji couldn’t get enough so he kept lapping at you.
“Wait-Oh God-I’m too sensitive!” You cried but it fell on deaf ears as Toji circled your swollen clit, his fingers found your g-spot and rubbed bringing you yet again to another earth-shattering climax.
Sure you’ve had plenty of orgasms with other partners and yourself but being with Toji filled a hole in you that you never knew you needed, he brought two eye-crossing orgasms to you in less than three minutes. He tasted you again, his cock so stiff that it hurt, it began to throb and leak pre-cum all over his floor.
“One more time, yeah? Cum for me again and I’ll fuck that stupid sweet little hole of yours.” Toji said, to you, it almost sounded like he was begging to taste you again so you opened your legs further apart, the overstimulation began to blur the line between pain and pleasure while he brought you to your third orgasm.
A scream tore from your throat and your toes curled, Toji pulled away and licked his lips cleaning the remains of your cum. “Scoot back,” He demanded roughly.
He laid on top of you using his hands on either side of your head to hold his weight up, a split second later he thrust his cock inside of you.
A moan spilled from his lips, he’s been with other women but something about you brought him to the edge, your body responded to his so well and you’re so tight that he had to pull out and ease back in, using one hand he ripped the front of your dress down freeing both breasts with a deep grunt, even your tits are perfect to him.
He palmed the supple flesh and leaned down to suck your nipple in his warm wet mouth, he had to break the eye contact otherwise he’d want to keep you here a lot longer than one night. His pace switched between fast and slow stoking the fire deep in both of your bellies, his hair tickled you while he moaned against your breast, slick flesh slapping against flesh, and loud moans drowned out the music that poured from under the door, pants and heavy breathing roared in your ear.
“You feel so fucking good.” He muttered.
“You’re my little-damn it-slut, huh?”
“I’m going to fuck you stupid.”
He gasped when your walls contracted around his cock. 
“Yes, that’s it. You feel fanfuckingtastic.”
He panted in your ear, you gripped his shoulders and felt your fourth orgasm rise, both of you grunted as you creamed around his cock leaving a creamy ring that twitched finally as he came, seeing stars behind his eyelids filling you to the brim with hot thick cum. 
“Fuck,” He panted but he wasn’t done. He pulled out of you watching the pearly essence drip from you in globs that stained his silk sheets. 
“Hands and knees.” He demanded. 
“My dress.” You replied because you didn’t want to ruin it, he got off the bed and began to tug the fabric off tearing it at the seams.
“Toji!” You cried angrily.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” He grunted, he took his white button-up off leaving both of you naked, as he stared down at your body and he couldn’t stop the words that spilled from his mouth. 
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, damn.” His compliment made your cheeks flush with a heat and your hands went to cover your breasts.
“No, don’t,” 
He wasn’t one to give out compliments but with you, something inside him snapped turning him into a different person. 
You watch him walk over to his pants and grabbed his belt, once you got in the position he got behind you. He fisted his cock and ran it up and down your slit gathering a mix of yours and his cum, eliciting a moan from you as you tried to push back against him. 
“Lay down and put your hands behind your back.” Following his instructions, you lay face down and put your arms behind your back. Toji wrapped his belt around your wrists making makeshift handcuffs, he pulled back and thrust inside of you. 
Both of you cried out in pure bliss.
“You’re such a good girl taking me like this and listening to me.” He grunted fucking you with no mercy.
With his free hand, he stuffed two fingers in your mouth which you began to suck on, swirling your tongue around his digits. “Drooling for me to just fuck you stupid, huh?” He asked, you could only moan your answer at this point because he’s bringing his word true, he’s fucking you stupid.
His hips slammed against your ass, he leaned down to cover your back with his chest, his teeth grazed your shoulder and you felt his sharp canines sink into the soft flesh. “Cum with me.” He softly demanded.
Your fifth orgasm pulled Toji into his third one of the night, “Toji!” You mumbled against the soft blanket.
“Yes, pet?” He cooed shocking both you and him.
“I don’t know if I can handle any more.” You confessed, Toji quickly pulled out and removed his makeshift handcuffs.
Helping you up from the bed he walked to the large bathroom inside his room with you under his arm, he sat you on the edge of the tub as he turned on the warm water.
Once it was filled he added a few drops of oil, while it seemed mundane he’d never done this for any woman in his life, he looked over at you and your smeared makeup.
Dipping a small washcloth in the warm water he began to remove the caked makeup from your face, your eyes met his feeling your heart flutter.
He climbed in first and had you sit between his legs while he washed and massaged you, “I have never had so many orgasms in one night, much less that intense.” You admitted, Toji smiled to himself and kissed your shoulder.
“After this what do you say you stay the night?” He asked hopeful, he wanted to wrap you in his arms. Again, something he refused to do with other women but after being with you he wanted it so bad, craved it.
“Only if I can have the right side of the bed.” You said making him chuckle.
“Of course.” He replied with another kiss. 
286 notes · View notes
akindplace · 4 months
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For the past few days I kept posting several pictures of my dog asleep in her most treasured possession, her pillow. I never actually told you why she loves it so much. Some years ago, my mom saw a dog being rescued in the street with all her puppies. Turns out some of the people involved with rescuing her worked with my mom, and they decided to make a whatsapp group to help pay for vet bills and to find a place for her and her puppies. They found their home, but it’s harder to find homes for adult dogs, and she was very scared, and untrusting of people from living in the street her whole life.
They called her Valentina, because the name was very popular, but also because the word valente means brave in Portuguese.
She was in bad shape, thin, and with a skin condition. It would be hard to find a permanent home for her.
For whatever reason, my mom told me she wanted to foster the dog for a few days, until we found permanent shelter for her. Just a few days, she kept telling me. So the day comes, we took her in, my mom took her out for a walk, and when she came back, I looked outside and there she was sitting with Valentina on her lap. I asked her for how long the dog was really staying with us, and she said “if possible, forever”. I still don’t know why she wasn’t honest from the beginning because she knows how much I love animals; there was never going to be a way either of us would ever not want to keep her, anyway.
She was terrified of people, and would hide out under the car on her first days here, and it was hard to get close to her for a long while. But one of our dogs started playing with her, and slowly she would hang around us more. My mom felt bad because she would sleep on only a mat, so she gave the dog an old pillow and Valentina took that pillow as her favorite thing. But she would still run away if we came close to pet her while she was on her little bed.
Months later, Valentina finally sat next to me while I was eating to ask for a piece of my food (pão de queijo, because she has good taste). And I was so happy, I cried a little. It took over a year until she trusted us fully.
She learned how to ask for food, for treats, for pets. But she has also learned that in the morning, she wants us to take her pillow from its place my mom’s room and put it in the living room. And at night, she wants us to put the pillow back in my mom’s room. And she knows that if she sits in the specific spot for her bed and stares at us in judgement, we will bring her the pillow. It’s been years now. She is absolutely close with my mom, it almost seems she understands that my mom was the one who decided to adopt her. She got healthier, fatter, happier.
It took years of building trust, and now she lets us pet her, and doesn’t run away in fear. I don’t know what happened to her while she was living in the street but it made her so scared. But what matters is she found safety and belonging here. And everywhere she goes in this house, her little bed has to come along.
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And sometimes, my other dog likes to lie down on Valentina’s bed (she has one of her own) and Valentina just stares at us with profound disappointment.
Life is good. I’m glad we could make a difference in her life, because she changed ours too.
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dilatorywriting · 1 year
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Heroes vs. Villains : The Staff [Part 4]
Platonic GN!Reader x NRC Staff vs. RSA Staff Word Count: 2.9k
Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. NRC Staff Version (Part 4)
ie. So the saying goes, 'nothing gold can stay.' Or, the Prefect is facing yet another Overblot and it drags some unpleasant dilemmas to the surface.
A/N: I have been fighting this for a solid hour now, and Tumblr is just being an absolute nightmare and not letting me add any more tags without crashing/refusing to save the post, so if you got kicked off the list, my sincerest apologies
[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]
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There was a curt knock on Mozus Trein’s door.
The aging professor fought the inelegant urge to drop his head into his hands. After taking a moment to silently curse every other damned member of faculty at this college, he schooled his expression into a vague attempt at neutrality and cleared his throat.
“Enter.”
Divus Crewel and his ridiculous ensemble strutted into Trein’s office, and the historian barely bit back a sneer. He and the other professor had never gotten on at the best of times. Perhaps they would tolerate one another for the occasional game of chess, but the other man’s opinions on more or less everything (especially dogs. Ugh.) rankled something unpleasant in Trein’s chest. Call him old fashioned, but intentionally sharpening oneself into something miserable, and cold, and alone all in the name of maintaining an appearance of sophistication was something he would never respect.
Lucius growled from his place by the windowsill, and Crewel very noticeably fought to keep himself from raising his hackles in return. The black-and-white monstrosity leant forward and placed a bottle of red whine on Trein’s desk with a clack.
“What is it now?” Mozus frowned.
Divus didn’t bother to sit in the chair opposite him. He never did. He paced along one of the bookcases for a moment, trailing his crimson gloves along the leather spines.
“More of the same, I suspect,” he finally huffed.
Trein sighed and rifled around in his desk drawers to unearth his chest set. Not the good one—the one with hand-carved, stone, pieces that his daughters had given him for his birthday two years ago. This set wasn’t terribly ugly, and it did the job well enough. Plus, the worn colors lining the board always made something in Crewel’s jaw tick.
“Well,” he grumbled, setting the pieces into place and reaching for the wine. Divus Crewel was entirely unpleasant, but at the end of the day, Mozus had never been one to deny a willing student. And oh if there wasn’t so much that this egomaniacal alchemist still needed to learn. “Get on with it then.”
.
.
A part of you was sort of expecting to see one of those ‘WELCOME HOME, CHEATER’ banners nailed to the Rogersons’ front porch.
Which, firstly, come on. It’s not like you maybe vaguely starting to not loathe your time spent with Crewel with every fiber of your being was a crime. And you were still miserable and mad. Stupid, no good, stuck up, no-dad-being, emotionally unavailable—ahem. Excuse you. But you had eaten a few of those fancy cookies. And you were certain that Poe and Perdy would smell Jasper and Badun’s cuddles a mile away. And as much as you rationalized it forwards and backwards that you weren’t wrong, a part of you still felt… traitorous.
Secondly, the Rogersons were genuinely nice people. And you should have known at this point that they of all the adults in your life would hardly judge your for accepting any scraps of kindness being offered to you. (Unlike a certain Old Crow with whom you were well acquainted.)
All that being said, you were still a bit hesitant when you knocked on their front door that evening. Nevertheless, you were met you with a wave of enthusiastic greetings (plus a knitted set of gloves and a hat), as they ushered you back out the door with the promise of new and interesting things.
“We thought it’d be a nice change of pace,” Mister Rogerson explained. He and Annie were holding hands as you all walked down their quaint street, tucked up neatly in one of the roomy pockets of his overcoat. “And you didn’t get to come with us over the Holidays either.”
“There isn’t much else to do on Sage Island for most of year,” Annie said. “But the Winter Festival is always really lovely.”
The Winter Festival was like something out of a story book—all toned in watercolors and lit with a golden warmth that didn’t really seem feasible when the weather was otherwise so frigid. Magic, probably. Everything wonderous here was always magic. The air smelled honey-sweet, and you could feel the rising heat from dozens of outdoor ovens warming your cheeks.
“It’s busiest over the holiday period,” Annie explained merrily, reaching out to adjust the new hat on your head. “But most of the stalls stay open a few weeks later.”
“You missed all the rides unfortunately,” Mister Rogerson continued, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “But if you’re still around next year, we’ll make sure to bring you when everything’s in full swing.”
There was a decent sized crowd filtering sluggishly through the faire, happy to meander about with their Styrofoam mugs of cocoa and browse the displays. There were more people your age milling about than you would have expected (as nice as this all was, it definitely seemed more like an ideal outing for a retirement home than anyone young enough to still have their original hip bones). Mostly you recognized the clean, crisp, white jackets of the RSA uniform, but occasionally there was a splotch of a more familiar black ensemble darting about amongst them.
“Have you ever had a fritter before?” Mister Rogerson called from his place by a stall that smelled like Heaven compressed into a cubic-meter.
“Not since I’ve been here,” you practically drooled, feeling very much like one of those cartoon characters who could merrily float through the air after the tantalizing scent of baked sweets.
“Do you want the sugar sprinkled? The caramel drizzle?” A laugh then, quick and bright, as he caught sight of the lovestruck (and ravenous) look on your face. “Both?” he offered indulgently.  
There was another laugh then—raucous and loud. And a familiar face darted by with a mouth stuffed full of way too many festively frosted donuts.
“Hey! You get back here!” someone shouted, enraged and shaking their fist. “Free samples’ doesn’t mean a free for all! Did you hear me?! I said get back here!”
But Ruggie Bucchi just kept on running, his fluffy ears perked atop his head and his steel-grey eyes thinned with obvious amusement. He rushed past, and you met gazes just quickly enough to catch a smirk and a wink before he was off and around a corner—surely vanished into areas unknown to enjoy his haul.
You laughed into your gloves and turned back to your escorts for the evening with a beam, ready to suggest maybe just buying out the rest of the stall. Ruggie would love it. He’d probably even help you manage Leona’s tantrums without grumbling for at least, like, a week.
But they weren’t smiling.
The grin on your own lips slowly slipped back down into a flat line, and you fought the urge to fidget. Like somehow you’d done something wrong. Annie just sighed and shook her head. Mister Rogerson pinched at the bridge of his nose with a huff—the picture of a properly disappointed teacher.
“Well, can’t say anyone would expect Night Raven students to not be a handful.”
Something curdled a little in your tummy, and you tamped down the urge to immediately and aggressively rise to Ruggie’s defense. They were only free samples! And he loved donuts! And he never really had much money for anything of his own anyways! And they were free! And!—And…
“Ruggie doesn’t have anybody to buy him donuts,” you said at last, when the vendor handed you your own little paper bag overflowing with fritters.
Annie and Mister Rogerson looked at you curiously, clearly a bit lost, and you huffed.
“Ruggie,” you repeated. “The guy from earlier. With—with the samples.”
You could feel your shoulders hunch, defensive. And you didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like—they weren’t going to be mad at you or anything. And Ruggie was your friend. It didn’t seem right to let them just assume the worst of him.
“Oh,” Annie hummed, face softening. “Of course, sweetheart. But maybe he could ask first next time, okay? We’d be happy to treat any of your friends.”
You nodded and nibbled at your fritter. It was warm and crispy, perfectly fried and with a sugar crust that melted on your tongue like the sweetest kiss. It was delicious, really it was. But still somehow not quite as good as you’d thought it’d be.
.
.
When you arrived back to Ramshackle that evening, there was wallpaper on the walls.
You squinted at it suspiciously and tapped one of the glued-down edges with your finger. It didn’t vanish or eat you, so maybe it wasn’t an illusion. But why on Earth would anyone bother to try and give this place a facelift—
The front door burst open and Crowley blew in like a hurricane.
“CONGRATULATIONS!” he boomed. “There’s no one else I trust at this school quite like I trust you, oh wonderful and best of all Prefects! So I’m making you the lead producer for our VDC performance!”
You gaped, too familiarized with this nonsense to be as horrified as you probably ought to be.
“What’s a VDC?” you asked.
“That’s a great question!” Crowley beamed. “But first, let me introduce you to your new roommates!”
When the House Warden of Pomefiore and his entourage walked through your rickety front door, you felt something familiar, and awful, and inky swoop in your stomach.
“This building should be condemned,” Vil Schoenheit sniffed with all the grace of someone who definitely probably had a lot of underlying issues that were about to become your very real problem.
Crowley scuttled forward cheerfully to pin a tag labeled ‘MANAGER’ to your uniform jacket.
“Look how far you’ve come!” he sniffled, wiping dramatically at his gaping, soulless, eyes. “I’M SO PROUD!”
“…You can just put your bags over there,” you mumbled, so far past functioning on autopilot you may as well just ask Idia to turn your brain into an AI and get it over with it.
Epel dropped his suitcase near the living room’s rug and immediately the ancient floorboards opened up like the maw of some ravenous beast to swallow them whole. The group of you watched with varying degrees of distaste as his luggage plummeted to the basement, or… whatever existed below the crumbling wood. You’d never checked.
“I have the upmost faith in you!” Crowley chirped before jetting back out the door as quickly as he’d come.
.
“You did what?!” Crewel snapped.
“What!” Crowley whined. “Isn’t giving your child more responsibilities a sign of trust?! An act of faith between parent and spawn?! DOES THIS NOT SHOW HOW MUCH I VALUE THEIR COMPETENCE?!”
“No,” Trein groaned, burying his head in his hands.
.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Vil said, with all the cheer of someone undergoing a root canal. “I have nothing but well-wishes for Neige Leblanche and his many, worthy, successes.”
Buzz buzz went Ace’s phone as another of Neige’s advertisements lit the screen.
Drip drip went the heavy, black, magic curling around Vil Schoenheit’s soul.  
You fought the urge to put your head through the wall.
.
.
The next evening came, as did another bottle of too-expensive wine.
Trein swirled the crimson liquid miserably in his glass.
“Do you know that I chastised the Prefect once? For calling Crowley incompetent?”
Divus sounded worn in a way that he most likely had no right to be, but progress was progress Trein supposed. The alchemist snorted sardonically into his own glass. Normally the wine was a bribe for the elder professor alone, but tonight it was a truce to be shared in bleak solidarity.
“Time makes fools of us all,” Trein hummed.
“What is he even thinking?” Crewel seethed. “As if the Prefect isn’t under enough stress as it is. What exactly does he think these stunts will accomplish?”
“I don’t think he’s thinking very much at all, to be perfectly honest with you,” Trein grumbled. “But then again, making impulsive decisions in the name of parental affection is far from a novel concept.”
Divus scoffed. “Ah, yes. Because that’s what the runt needs. A mockup of fatherhood bearing down their neck at every turn. It’s like he’s not even bothering to actually try.”
“Someone ought to be,” Mozus said, pointed. (And it certainly wasn’t going to be him. He had two, lovely, wonderful daughters to fill his heart. There wasn’t much room left for anything else.)
Crewel glowered at him miserably and sighed in a drawn-out sort of way that was not dissimilar to someone taking a too-long drag from a cigarette.
“It’s not something that fits with…” he hesitated, as if trying to chew over the words into something palatable. “I have no desire to give up everything that I’ve ever wanted to see in myself, to give up everything I’ve worked for, just to mold myself into some—some glorified babysitter.”  Something stuck unpleasantly in his throat and he had to clear it twice before continuing. “Especially for someone who may very well be leaving this world forever in a few months as it is.”
The clock on the wall ticked obnoxiously through the silence. Each little second fell in a heavy clunk. clunk. clunk. that echoed around the room with all the gentility of a gong. After a long moment, Trein sighed into his glass.
“Being a parent is not about sacrificing your own sense of self in order to cater to your child,” he huffed. “It is about being there to nurture the development of their own.”
Crewel pointedly averted his gaze to one of the ugly, cat-centric, paintings on the wall.
“And perhaps for you a handful of months may not be sufficient,” the older man continued, swirling his wine. “But I’m sure for the Prefect, it would make all the difference in the world.”
.
.
Detention continued, despite your stacking ‘managerial responsibilities.’
Thankfully, it had mostly turned into you sitting in Crewel’s office while you sorted through whatever paperwork you were expected to file and complete. Sometimes a good chunk of the pages would disappear from your ‘in progress’ pile and reappear—perfectly completely and in order—at the end of the evening. You were dead set on never addressing it ever, because if you did he might stop. And he was probably the only reason you were managing to get any of it done on time at all.
Even with Professor Crewel’s help, you were still slow today. And as the night crawled to a close, you found yourself staring at a stack of blank pages without a thought to go with them. The only thing swimming in your head was murky tar and the cloying taste of black magic that came with it.  
“Is there something you want to discuss?” Crewel called from his desk across the room. “You seem distracted.”
“I can’t,” you grumbled, something wobbling in your jaw. “Not to the people I want to talk about it with at least.”
Something shuttered slipped across his expression, and he nodded and went back to his own work. You stared at him for another moment, debating.
“What do you if—” you froze and hurriedly looked back down to the pen in your hands.
“If…?” Crewel pressed.
You sighed. “You know, sometimes you care about people, yeah? And maybe they’re not always perfect, but you still care. But then…” You chewed at your lip. “I don’t know. Can people still be good if they do bad things sometimes? Like, if you’d disagree with them completely, but they see it as right anyways?”
‘They’d be taken away?’
‘I know it sounds scary, kiddo. But that’s what we have to do to keep everyone as safe as we can. Does that make sense?’
You thought of Riddle, and Leona, and Azul, and Jamil. And now Vil. You grit your teeth so hard they started to ache.
Professor Crewel looked a bit startled, and you couldn’t really blame him. It was the most you’d spoken to him in weeks.
“I suppose that would depend on you,” he said after a moment. “And if that ‘disagreement’ was big enough to change how you viewed them entirely.”
“I don’t know…” you frowned. It certainly felt like something big. But...
“Well, what have you done about it?”
You blinked. “What?”
He waved his hand at you, and that pointer of his snapped across his palm. “Have you told this person that what they’ve said bothered you?”
“…well, no,” you mumbled.
“Then that’s what you need to do first,” he said, firm. “You won’t have an answer to anything you’re fretting about until you can face that at least.”
“And then what?”
Professor Crewel hesitated then, his mouth working as if he couldn’t really decide what he wanted to say. Or maybe like he was thinking over his words very, very, carefully.
“Do they know that they’ve done wrong by you?” he asked at last, not quite as sharp as before. “And—more importantly—if they know they’ve upset you, are they trying to make it right?”
You had a sudden feeling that he wasn’t really talking about your question anymore. The words settled heavily in your gut, but not in a way that was entirely unpleasant. More like the comfort after eating a full meal rather than the all-encompassing dread that so often took residence there instead. You thought of fancy cookies, and dogs, and cozy coats that were warmer and softer than the best blankets you’d ever used.
“Right,” you said after a moment, and glanced away with a secretive sort of smile. “I guess that would be the most important bit.”
.
.
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theapangea · 3 months
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Hi!
Can you do a lip gallagher x reader smut?
She and lip had something going on but the karen thing happend, so a few years later she comes back and they sleep together, but this time she doesnt really wants something serious.
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The One That Got Away
Pairing/Characters: Lip Gallagher x Reader
Word Count: 3k
Warning: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Mention of parent being sick, being heartbroken, unprotected p in v, bathroom sex
A/N: This is definitely a long one but a super good one! thank u sm to anon for the request. I hope you enjoy !!!! if you see any mistakes, no you didn't. kisses for you for supporting my work!
*Also posted on AO3: Theapangea*
Masterlist
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You almost forgot.
You almost forgot that the subway stop on 5th street smells predominantly of hotdogs even though there is no hotdog stand around. The way the subway putters with music from the guy asking for spare change. That the hot, stale air of the subway carts coat your whole body even though it is cold and wet just beyond the steel frame.
You almost forgot how the L’s seats are the most uncomfortable seats in the entire world as you wiggle your butt into the uncushioned plastic. That your phone starts to lose wifi signal around the bridge, music stuttering along into your ears, skipping every other word. That the train becomes less crowded when it’s raining. Your favorite time to be here.
You almost forgot how beautiful the city looks as you pass by it so quickly that all the colors begin to blend together. That so many memories dance across the windows, the faint sound of laughter mixing with the music blasting through your ear drums. That your heart is somewhere scattered into pieces at one of these stops. Thankfully not remembering which one it was as it happened too long ago. 
You damn near almost forgot everything about this city. But it keeps drawing you back in. You’ve never really been able to leave Chicago, huh?
You pull your purse strap up onto your shoulder as the train aggressively comes to a stop. The loud intercom muffling something inaudible as you step out of the train, underneath the covering of the overhead platform. The smell of day-old garbage and wet leaves fill your nostrils as your body begins to move you in the direction of The Alibi.
It’s been a long couple of days with your dad in the hospital. He’s finally home but you can’t convince yourself that it’s a good idea to stay for a couple of days. You know that your mom needs the help but having to stay any longer in Chicago will make you go crazy.
Is making you go crazy.
You just want a quick drink before, hopefully, taking the train back to your hotel and then away from Chicago tomorrow morning. 
The rain has faded into a drizzle, your hood still pulled over your wet hair. Hands tucked neatly into your jacket pockets. You push open the heavy red door. The stench of cigarettes and beer wrapping around you in a warm hug. It’s weird to be back in a place that holds so many memories. This was the place you and Lip…Lip?
And there he is in all his glory. 
The boy who shattered your fragile teenage heart so many years ago taking a quick sip of the beer in his hands. Across the bar, sitting at the counter, laughing with Kevin. 
Your head rushes as the memories start to flood in so rapidly. The bar becomes hazy, people blurring as they pass by, the music growing louder in your ears. Pulling your hood down with your right hand while the left works to fix the fly aways.
Your eyes are attempting to focus but all you can see is Lip. His hair is a little shorter now, his body more built as his biceps are barely contained beneath the material of his shirt. The way his mouth forms in a smile when Kevin says something funny. 
A buzz trickles up your body, the giddy feeling you get when you’ve had a couple drinks in you. But you haven’t had anything to drink…not yet, at least. This was the feeling you got when you and Lip were together. It was this sort of radiating energy. 
You never thought you’d feel this way again. You’re unsure if you want to feel this way now. You’ve suppressed every memory of Lip, each too painful to relive again.
But seeing him after all of these years feels hopeful. You like the buzz that you get when you’re around him. 
God he looks so good.
You feel almost stupid thinking these thoughts.
You tried so damn hard to forget about Lip. But no man ever came anywhere close. Ever made you feel so good. You couldn’t stop yourself from comparing any future boyfriend to him. Knowing Lip was always enough for you and no other man can measure up.
The sound of your name across the bar pulls you from your inner thoughts. Two pairs of eyes now on you, Kevin waving for you to come over. But your feet were bricks. You are tempted to abandon all hope and get the hell out of here.
Your gaze passes from Kevin to Lip. The instant spark. The instant attractive. The instant pain. It is everything to you. The way your body leaks in the presence of him. You’d do anything to feel the weight of him on top of you again. 
Dragging your feet along the wooden floor, wrapping your hands over your purse strap and phone to attempt to stop them from shaking as you get closer…and closer…and closer to Lip. The scent of his cologne mixed with cigarettes engulf you. His present is greater than himself. 
Kevin’s voice breaks through the tension that surrounds you and Lip, “Beer?” He sets the bottle on the counter, the popping sound of the cap ripples through your body.
Your eyes jump to Kevin quickly until they settle on the glass bottle pushed in front of you. But you can still feel the way Lip’s eyes are digging into your skin, like glass shards. 
“So what brings you back to town? I thought you moved off to New York or somewhere grand like that.” Kevin begins, he leans on the counter with his elbows.
It is nice that he’s talking. It’d be super weird to run into Lip and not have some sort of barrier to stop the awkwardness.
Wrapping your fingers around the cold bottle, picking it up to take a sip of beer, letting the first sip of alcohol encourage you to speak. “Yeah, New York. Just some family stuff that I needed to come back for.”
“Oh, is everything okay with your mom and dad?” Kevin’s eyebrows furrowed, the tone of worry laces his words. Your dad has been coming to The Alibi long before Kevin became owner so Kevin knows your dad really well.
“Everything’s fine now. Nothing to worry about. I’ll actually be heading home tomorrow.” You state and force a smile towards him. Reassuring him that everything is alright.
A customer to your right pulls Kevin’s attention away from your conversation before he can say anything else. He hints a smile towards you before speaking some nonsense to the guy. 
Then it’s just you and Lip. Bothing babying your beers and sneaking looks from one another. The air between you both is thick. You hate how awkward it is between you and Lip now. 
Yes, he broke your heart. Yes, many hurtful words were said between the both of you. But he was your Lip. He knew everything about you. You feel stupid that you let all of it go over some other girl. 
You close your eyes, focus on your breathing and try to work up the courage to speak to him. If it wasn’t for Kevin, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You would have definitely turned on your heels and run out of this bar faster than any human can possibly run. 
Letting the liquid courage take full effect, you finally speak,  “How are you?” Your mouth suddenly dries from the simple question. Washing it quickly with another sip of beer. The cool liquid coating its way down your throat. 
You peer over to Lip. His eyes are already on you. The faint freckles that scatter across his noses are even more beautiful than remembered.
His eyes are soft as they scan your face. His demeanor is calm, his hands still wrapped delicately around the glass bottle. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You don’t even know if there’ll be any conversation. Maybe he’s been mad at you all this time, just like you’ve been mad at him. 
But the train of thought escapes your mind as Lip’s hand swiftly wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into him. Crashing violently against his lips. The aggressive need of the taste of you. Attempting to match his rough nature. His lips move fast as he breathes you in. Needing every single ounce of you, making up for all the lost time. 
Lip draws back slightly, his mouth only centimeters away from yours. Your heavy breathes mix together as he places his forehead against yours. 
“I’ve missed you,” his whisper is so soft, so innocent. Your heart swells at the vulnerability. 
Your hands make fist in the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer to you, catching his mouth in yours again. Your body’s moving closer to one another. You need him right now. You can’t wait a minute longer. Pulling away from him again, locking his eyes with yours and quickly gesturing that you take this elsewhere. 
He smirks, eyes darkening as you realize you both have the same idea. He immediately wraps your hand in his as he leads you towards the bathroom. 
Pushing the door open with his back. His hands on your waist as he pulls you with him. Forcefully shutting and locking the door before his attention is all on you. His attention is only for you.
Lip is the lion and you are the deer. Knees shaking as he stalks closer to you. Feeling so small compared to him as he lips are on you again. Sucking, biting, licking, desperately needing the taste of you over and over again. 
Grinding your hips against him, his hard cock pressed firmly behind his jeans. Both of your hands make quick work to tear each other’s clothes off. Unbuckling pants, removing shirts, the skin to skin contact is electrifying. 
Lip flips you around, your chest placed firmly against the wall. His hands slowly move along your sides, thumbs looping on the hem of your pants and underwear, pulling them violently down your legs. Sticking your bare ass against Lip’s growing member as he places wet kisses along your shoulder. 
Lip shoves one hand down his jeans to release his penis from their prison. Holding up your cheeks with his other hands, stroking his cock as he aligns it with your entrance. The clear liquid leaking between your legs as he runs his tip around your sensitive nub. Your whiny moans signaling that you can’t take being without him for much longer. You are going to burst even if he isn’t inside of you. 
Lip pushes deeply into you, roughly sinking his pulsing cock between your slick folds. Both of his hands wrap you closely like a hug as your walls expand to accommodate him. The waves of pleasure run across your skin as he pounds into your sweet bliss. 
Moans and whines filling the small bathroom. His thrust is hard and wild. Sinking your wet core deeper and deeper onto his shaft. The eagerness of having you is overwhelming for Lip. He’s so close and wants nothing more than to take you with him.
“Come for me, baby.” He groans against your ear, nibbling your earlobe. 
And it is everything you need to release yourself onto his cock. Standing on your tiptoes as your body violently shakes in his arms. His thrust becomes messier as you release yourself on to him, the act sending him over the edge after you, filling your little pussy with his warm liquid. 
The air is hot as he pulls out of you. Grabbing a couple of paper towels from the dispenser to clean himself and you up. Your core is sensitive as the rough material glides against it. Your ass is still in full display for Lip before reaching down to pick your undies and pants off the floor. 
Lip leans against the bathroom wall mirroring your movements of getting his pants back on as you make your way over to the sink. Splashing some water on your face before looking at yourself in the mirror. You can barely recognize the girl in front of you. The overwhelming feeling of want for Lip pushed away the feelings of pain. But only briefly as they finally start to settle in again. 
Lip scratches the back of his neck, his eyes dropping onto the ground. Your name hanging gently on the tip of his tongue, “God, I didn’t realize things were so bad with your parents. I would’ve helped out if I’d known.”
Lip was really close to your dad when you were both younger. Your dad acting like more of a father to him than Frank ever did. You know it’s true, if Lip knew your dad was sick. He’d drop everything to help out.
And you loved Lip for that.
But it isn’t his problem. Especially now, especially after what happened between the two of you.
“It’s not your problem, Lip.” You say, looking down into the sink in front of you. You didn’t really feel like talking about it, especially to him.
You wipe your hands and face with a paper towel. Tossing the paper into the trash before reaching for the door handle, “I should go.”
“You’re leaving?” Lip reaches out to grab your wrist. His fingers wrapping tightly around you.
Your eyes shift downwards as you don't know exactly what to say. Maybe saying nothing will hurt less. But are you trying to convince him or you?
Pulling away from his grip, exiting the bathroom. Saying a quick goodbye to Kevin as you walk out the main entrance. It is all behind you now. You got the sex out of the way so there’s nothing more to be said or done.
But just like before, you could never shake Lip as a shadow. You feel his presence walking quickly behind you. He follows you around like some puppy who needs a home. You chose to try to ignore him and make your way back to the train station. Maybe he will get tired of following you and just leave you alone once and for all.
“Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?” Lip asks, his voice lower as he is behind you.
You stop immediately once you get to the top of the train platform. Taking a deep breath as you turn around on your heels. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Lip.”
“Why?” 
God, as smart as Lip is. He can be so stupid sometimes.
“Because we aren’t friends anymore. I didn’t come back here for you. And if it wasn’t for my parents then I wouldn’t even be here. I hate Chicago. I hate it because of you. So just act like I wasn’t here, please.” Your voice was so harsh at first, finishing your monologue with barely a whisper. Pleading for him to let you go. 
But Lip is so quick with a response, “But why do you hate me? What the fuck did I do to you that we just stopped being friends.”
“You’re really going to act dumb?” You scoff. “Fucking Karen, dude. Once you started fucking her, you just left me. I was nothing to you. And you were everything to me. And I thought I got over you, this hatred, this pain. But fuck, Lip. You just can’t talk to me like that never happened.”
“I was a kid. I was fucking stupid.”
“And Karen?”
“Something happened to her.” His eyes shift down. The sharp pain in your heart grows.
“Do you still love her?”
“Maybe.”
“Then this will never happen.” Your hand motions between you and Lip.
“I want to give it a chance again. If you’d let me.” He reaches out to grab your fingers. Linking them with his with yours, pulling you towards him.
But you stand firm in your footing. He had you so many years ago. Could have probably had you a couple minutes ago. But now that reality has set in again. Knowing he still loves Karen, knowing he will never love you as much as he loves her. 
Now absolutely knowing this information has torn you. Lip has broken your heart once more. And you can’t even blame him as you were the one who decided to sleep with him. 
Stuttering as you attempt to get the words out, the tears slipping down your cheeks, “I loved you Lip. I still love you. You know that, right? I always did and probably always will. God knows I was never good at letting things…or people…go.” Licking your lips to break as you stop yourself from fully breaking down. “I can’t let you do this to me, Lip. I won’t.”
The train pulls in behind you. The gush of the hot air blowing your hair. Taking a deep breath as you and Lip both stand there, red-eyed and drained. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you turn to board the train. 
Turning back to stare at Lip. The steel doors closing between the both of you. The plastic window allows you both to still see the other one last time before the train guts into motion. You instantly grip the metal pole to keep standing as the image of Lip fades into the past, just like every other memory of him. 
But to Lip, you are the fire that lights in his belly. And as much as it pains him to admit, you were the one that got away, he was just too stupid to realize it back then.
~~~
Let me know what you think!!
My replies don't work but you can always send me a message thru inbox if you wanna chat!
Thank you so much for supporting me <3
I am thinking of starting a little tag list for Lip girlies. LMK what you think and if you wanna be tagged in everything Lip going forward. Love you!!
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datura-tea · 4 months
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holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)
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^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!
memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long
2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!
i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially
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2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.
fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.
this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe
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2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol
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2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived
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2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha
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2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of
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2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!
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2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium
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2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind
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2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!
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2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!
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all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖
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earlgreydream · 2 years
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𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥. | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: overwhelmed by sexual tension with your stepbrother, until your best friend suggests giving in. 3.4k
𝐜𝐰: stepcest, drinking, kylo being a perv, sex while intoxicated
𝐚/𝐧: okay i promised @little-diable that i would finish this like 2.5 months ago but then life got out of control for a second. i know it's been a long time since i've posted, and i hope this makes up for it
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“He’s cute!” Your friend whispered, smirking as she twisted a lock of dark hair around her finger.
“He is my new stepbrother. And he’s an asshole,” you sighed from behind your mirrored, heart-shaped sunglasses.
Kylo’s gaze broke away from his friends to rest on you, admiring your body in your tiny yellow bikini. Dark eyes studied your form, the curve of your hip bones and the way the fabric hugged your chest.
“Kylo, your new sister is a real piece of ass. Watch out, I could become your stepbrother,” Vicrul laughed, encouraged by the other boys’ amusement.
“Shut the fuck up about her!”
Kylo shoved his friend, one of those you unaffectionately referred to as ‘his gang’ — part of the group that were always making noise in your living room and leaving empty beer cans in the recycling.
“Look at his muscles,” your friend breathed, practically salivating over the dark-haired terror that had infiltrated your life.
“That’s gross, he’s my brother now.”
“Step-brother,” she corrected, “which means you aren’t technically related… therefore—”
You shook your head, standing up and walking past the group of boys to go inside the house, wanting one of the glass bottled sodas from the fridge more than you wanted to hear the rest of her vulgar fantasy. The boys’ heads turned as you walked by, and you quickened your steps as you heard one of them whistle at you.
Two months ago, your mother had remarried Han Solo, he and his son, Kylo, two years older than you, moved into your home. You hadn’t had a moment of peace since, Kylo and his stupid friends always in the house, or at the pool in the backyard.
You weren’t oblivious to the way he looked at you, or how he stared at your body when you climbed out of the pool, water dripping down your curves, between the valley of your breasts as you shook your hair out.
“Hey,” Kylo’s gravely voice snapped you out of your thoughts. It wasn’t affectionate, Kylo never spoke to you unless it was absolutely necessary, asking where the TV remote was or what time Han and your mom were getting home from their date.
You looked up at him, ducking out of the way as he reached over your head to pull a 6-pack from the top of the fridge. He didn’t say anything else as he carried it back outside, a frown etching onto your face as his cold tone turned your heart to ice.
“Still haven’t made any progress with Kylo?” Han’s voice came from behind you, making you whirl around.
“He’s not exactly a fan of me. Definitely doesn’t have an interest in being friends.”
“He’ll warm up to you. Kylo’s a tough one to crack, he just needs time.”
You walked back outside after forcing a halfhearted smile, handing a drink to your friend before slipping into the hot tub with her. You watched your step brother from behind your glasses, your eyes dancing across his deep v-lines.
“So, this party on Saturday. You have to come. I can’t believe you made it all the way through high school a virgin—”
“Shh!” You hushed her, but the boys had clearly heard, smirking at you, though Kylo’s expression was darker. He shifted, hiding the growing tent in his shorts as his mind simmered on the thought of you being pure and untouched, sleeping in the room next to his in nothing but panties and an old Pink Floyd tee.
“What exactly is your point?” You sighed, tipping the bottle back against your lips.
“You have to get laid this weekend! Come on, before college. It will do you some good, help you not be so uptight."
“Fine. Help me pick out something to wear then,” you gave in, willing to go along with her so that you could get away from Kylo's friends.
.
Kylo dreamt of you.
Ever since he’d moved into your house, thoughts of you plagued every inch of Kylo’s mind. He jerked his cock imagining it was your hand, much smaller than his, your skin soft and delicate.
“Kylo, dude, get a fuckin’ grip,” Ushar laughed, shaking Kylo’s shoulder as he handed the controller off to the other boy.
“Sorry.”
“You’re not thinking about your little sister are you? Just fuck her already, stop with this down bad bullshit.”
“I’m not fucking my virgin stepsister!” Kylo snapped, sensitive to the topic his friends had been relentlessly teasing him about since he’d drunkenly confessed that he’d fantasized about you.
Fantasized didn’t quite cover it.
.
When you were gone on a weekend getaway, Kylo snuck into your bedroom. It was odd without your presence, your body not curled up on the bed, clutching the fantasy novels you loved. No music in the background, your friend not in the chair in the corner singing along to Vor í Vaglaskógi as she often did.
He felt dirty, conviction gripping his mind as if he were knelt before a priest in church, though any god would abandon him the moment he went through with the plan that had brought him into your bedroom.
Kylo found his way to your drawers, lingering for a moment, listening for any sound, making sure his father wasn’t coming up the stairs to ask him for a favor, to catch him in the deviant act.
The wood slid open, revealing the laces and silks that Kylo longed to see, but were hidden beneath your clothes. Ever since he had caught you bending forward to get something and catching a glimpse of your ass in a thong, it was all he could think about. His fingers trailed over the delicate fabrics, closing around a deep green silk piece. Kylo acted on instinct, no hesitation in the way he brought it up to his nose, inhaling your scent, wishing his face was buried between your thighs so he could press his full lips to your snatch through the pathetically thin fabric.
A noise came from down the hall, and Kylo quickly shoved your panties into his pocket before closing the drawer, hoping you wouldn’t miss them.
“Kylo? What are you doing?” Han questioned, catching Kylo in your room just as he reached the doorway, narrowly missing his escape. His father stared at him, almost able to hear the way Kylo’s heart was racing.
“Looking for my phone charger. I let her borrow it and she forgot to give it back before going to Santa Monica,” Kylo lied smoothly, the words tumbling from the tongue of a sinner, a man who was acting on dark fantasies of ruining his little sister.
Han seemed convinced enough, offering Kylo the charger from his office until you got back, and Kylo could only pray that he wouldn’t mention it to you. 
There was no one listening to the prayers of a predator.
.
"This is too short," you argued with your friend, turning and checking out the little black dress that barely covered your ass.
"Nope. It's perfect," she insisted as you kept tugging the fabric down.
She handed you a tube of lipstick, and you leaned forward in the mirror, applying it to your lips as she hummed along to the song in the background. She grabbed her keys off of your nightstand, pushing her feet into dangerously high heels that made her seem even taller than she already was, walking through your home like a goddess past Kylo's friends, their gazes following the two of you out the door.
"Why are we driving?"
"Because, I'm not walking in these shoes," she laughed, climbing into the sharp black car before driving the short distance to a peer's home, one infamous for throwing wild house parties at the edge of your neighbourhood. 
"Ready to make some memories?" She put a flask in your hand, grinning as your head tipped back, the syrupy liquid going down easing.
"To losing your virginity," she took a shot after you, pregaming in the car before entering the house.
Some kids you knew from highschool instantly swept her up into conversation, all fighting over her affections. One of the girls put another drink in your hand, pulling your wrist to the middle of the living room to get you to dance. You’d tried to stay with your friend, but you slipped by unnoticed as everyone crowded around her, desperate for even a second of her attention.
You giggled, swaying to the music and wrapping your arm around the neck of a boy you'd always sort of fancied, one with ginger hair that whispered filth in your ear. He’d once written you a love letter in high school, leaving it in your locker. 
"Can I get you another drink?" Armie questioned, and you nodded, stepping out of the living room onto the back porch to get out of the noise while you waited for his return.
"How's your quest going?"
You turned at the question, taking a half-step back as Kylo's friends, Vicrul and Ushar, teased you. They'd overheard the conversations in the hot tub, and you could practically sense Kylo laughing somewhere in the shadows.
"Leave me alone," you tried to strengthen your voice, not letting the obvious fear bleed through. They made you nervous, always making you feel like prey cornered by a predator, ready to be devoured and helpless to stop it. 
"Come on now, I know a couple of willing participants," Ushar reached out to touch the hem of your short skirt, causing you to stumble backward into a hard body.
"That's enough," Kylo's cold tone snapped through the awkward tension, the two instantly backing off.
"Hey," Kylo tried to grab your wrist, only to be sure that you didn't want a ride home, away from the loud party he knew you weren't fond of.
You jerked away and hurried to Armie, the ginger who was returning with your drinks. You didn’t want to be near Kylo, frightened by his friends and confused by your sexual arousal toward your stepbrother. 
"Thanks," you wrapped your arm around his neck, swallowing the shot before your lips met his, a sight that left Kylo's blood boiling.
"You okay?" Armie asked, smiling almost shyly.
"Great."
Your friend was nowhere to be found, several of Kylo's friends were missing from their pack in the corner, bent around table games, trying to make balls go into the cups. You attempted to ignore them, trying to focus on the ginger in front of you, hoping that eventually you'd complete the night's mission. Kylo's dark gaze burned through you, locked on your body in a way you could nearly feel.
Kylo lusted after you. Seeing Armie kiss you sent a fiery spark of possession through Kylo, finally breaking the dam of need that was now flooding his senses. He watched you glare at him, swallowing shot number - he'd lost count. It was enough to have you tripping over your own feet, becoming easier prey for all the men who wanted you to steal you away from Kylo.
"Get off of her," Kylo growled, shoving Armie off of you.
You'd been tripping your way up the stairs, pulled by the redhead you didn't really want to be with. You wanted to search for your friend, to tell her you had too much to drink and you wanted to go home. At first it seemed like Armie was going to help you find her, but you were fairly certain she wasn't in the upstairs bedrooms, and his intentions were impure. 
"Kylo?" you grabbed his arm for stability, thankful for his presence for the first time.
"Touch her again and I'll fucking kill you," Kylo snarled, gripping his collar and pressing his body against the stair railing.
"Stop, please, I just want to leave!" you begged, terrified for a moment that Kylo might actually throw him onto the landing below.
His muscular arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you out of the noisy party, everything overstimulating you. The second you stepped into the cold night air, you heaved, putting your hand on the wall for balance as Kylo tried to support your weight. His large hand rubbed your back, helping you collect yourself as you choked down gags.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," you mumbled, pulling your heels off and stepping onto the cold sidewalk.
The walk home was silent, as was typical with Kylo, though this felt distinctly different, his hand resting on your lower back. Kylo caught you as you tripped, his arms circling around your waist. 
“Sorry, I’m still a bit sloshed,” you confessed, finding your body naturally leaning into his. 
“You’re fine, I’m just going to get you home, where none of those fuckers can touch you.” 
“Because you’re so much better?” you questioned, earning a dark glare.
“I’m no better than them. I want to fuck you more than anyone else, but I wouldn’t touch you without your permission!”
You were stunned into silence, your chest rising and falling as you looked up into his brown eyes. Your hand wrapped around the back of Kylo’s neck, pulling him down into a forceful kiss before your mind could catch up with your body’s carnal needs. His mouth was hot against yours, his tongue parting your lips as a moan broke from your throat. Kylo’s hands gripped your ass beneath the tiny dress you wore, his fingertips dragging over the silk that hugged your skin. The kiss was filthy, your feet cold on the sidewalk as you stood half a block from your house, only a few yards to decide if you were going to cross the line of fucking your stepbrother. 
You finally broke away for air, dizzy from the intensity. His hands were practically burning your skin, only seconds passing before the two of you were stumbling inside, unable to keep your touch off of one another. The house was dark, promising to conceal your secrets as he carried you upstairs, practically throwing you onto his bed. 
“Is this what you want?” his voice was low, the words spoken against the underside of your jaw as his mouth went to work marking up your throat. 
“I need it, Kylo.”
His hands tore the skimpy dress from your body, not wasting any time before kissing you again, your hands tangling into his black hair. Kylo tasted like bourbon, his tongue on yours and lapping down your now-bare chest. A moan slipped from your lips as he gently sucked at your nipple, rolling the other between his fingers until your hips were squirming on his mattress. 
“Kylo, don’t tease me,” you whined, pulling hard on his hair, unable to take the torture anymore as you writhed. 
“Take what you’re given,” he hissed, forcing his hips between your legs. 
He knelt above you, his fingertips lightly rubbing the silk covering your snatch, a dark patch growing on the fabric as he touched you. An amused smile pulled at his swollen, pink lips as he pulled the thong from your body, the fabric tearing easily under his grip. 
“Kylo!”
“Hush, I’ll buy you new ones.”
You tried to close your legs, held open by his waist, wanting to hide yourself from his heady gaze. It wasn’t that you were insecure, but this was new, and him seeing your naked pussy seemed too exposing. 
“You’re beautiful, you don’t have to hide,” Kylo whispered before pressing a kiss to your lips, much more gently this time, as his fingers drew figures on your clit. Your thighs squeezed his hips, pathetic little mewls spilling from you as his fingers soaked with your arousal, his middle finger easing inside of you. 
Embarrassment rose to your chest as you squeezed down on just two of his fingers pumping in and out of you, his tongue teasing your clit while your legs were draped over his shoulders. Pressure was building between your hips, the knot tightening in your lower abdomen as he ate you out and nudged your g-spot. 
“I’m close, I can’t hold it,” your words came out in a strained whine, your body fighting to get away and push him deeper inside of you all at once. 
Your whimpers only encouraged Kylo, his fingers curling forward and his swollen lips sucking hard on your clit until you came, screaming into the sheets and gripping his wavy hair. The bit of scruff around his jaw tickled your thighs as he kissed you, his tongue lapping up all of your mess. Your body trembled underneath him, the aftershocks buzzing through your nerves as you recovered. 
“I can’t wait any longer,” Kylo’s hands wrapped around your hips, flipping your body face-down. 
Your fingers twisted into his sheets as he jerked you onto your knees, your ass in the air as Kylo knelt behind you. His hand rested on the back of your head, pressing it downward as he ground against your sopping cunt, groaning as he sank his cock in you. He was huge, splitting you open with a sharp pain. It was sweet, your head spinning as he filled places inside of you that you weren’t even aware of, stretching you until you were crying out and trying to reach his hand in your hair. 
“K… Kylo,” you whimpered, your body reeling forward and your grip finding his headboard as his hips slammed against your ass. 
“Your fuckin’ cunt is so sweet,” he hissed, gripping your hair and pulling your head from the sheets to hear your shout. 
It hurt and you loved it. He let go of your hips for a brief second, his hand cracking against your ass, leaving a handprint on the delicate skin, and dragging a whimper from your lips. Your breath caught in your throat as he fucked you harder, his hand reaching under you to play with your clit, convinced he could make you come again, despite being raw and overstimulated. Kylo needed to feel you squeeze down on him as you came, desperate to feel you milk him. 
“I can’t, I can’t–” you wept, trying to escape his fingers that were roughly toying with your clit, your nerve endings practically a live wire. 
“You can take it, you’re a filthy slut who’s fucking your stepbrother, you can come again on my dick,” he jerked hard on your hair, soaking up the sound of your cries. 
A shudder rolled down your spine as you gushed around him, unable to hold it off anymore. Your scream was muffled by his hand, holding it over your mouth so your parents didn’t hear the sinful way their stepchildren were fucking. You were disgraced, screaming into his hand and gripping down hard around him as his cum coated your insides, Kylo only continuing to fuck it in deeper. Kylo held your body against his, his sweat-slick chest pressed to your back as he held his hand over your mouth, holding you as you panted. Your muscles were weak, barely able to hold yourself up as the raw ache throbbed between your thighs once he pulled out. Your mess leaked onto his sheets, smearing on your inner thighs in a sight that nearly made Kylo feral. 
He reached over, grabbing his discarded tee shirt to clean you up, gently lying you back into the pile of messy pillows. He smirked as you flinched when his touch went to your sex, a soft whimper bleeding from your lips. 
“That was okay, for your first time?” he questioned, shocking you with the caring tone his words held. 
“Yeah, yes,” you nodded, giggling as he leaned down and kissed you again before standing to find something to slip over your body. 
“Wait, don’t go–” you whined, reaching out and grasping his hand. 
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere. Just getting you a clean jumper because you’re shivering,” he promised, slipping boxers up his legs before walking to his dresser. 
He found a hoodie of his, helping you into the black fabric that was so big it nearly swallowed you. A shy smile graced your face, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you down into his side. You snuggled onto Kylo’s chest, your head nestling against his shoulder. 
“So, are we going to tell mom and dad?” you whispered, making his hearty laughter fill the room.
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