#this is what drawing this people for so long did to my nugget brain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fainthedcherry · 6 months

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IT'S NEW YEARS OVER HERE SO LET ME LAUNCH MY BABIES AT YOU FOR IT!!!!

In case you want their backstories, I just recommend you go over to their Toyhou.ses respectively, as- typing on Tumblr is a pain for my PC. My PC hates Tumblr in particular for some reason, whenever I format text, and I can't LIVE without formatting text as a hobby-author man. xD

LINK TO MARCO'S STORY

LINK TO ZORRO'S STORY

For new users; Marco was made by Heavenly-Hellfire and Hollowed-Hartlocke. I bought him back in 2019! Still love him like it's day 1. My best, most adorable boy <3, he's become my actual role model, I love him sm ;:

In case you never read them before, hopefully you enjoy the reads!!! I hope you can forgive the older grammar on Zorro's. I def plan to rewrite it, once I finish working on my raider-code. (It's been taking so long bc I'm trying to learn to use the CSS mixin z-index class-type. I still can't figure out image borders for the life of me, but I learned rotation class-types LOL.)

I've wanted to redraw both their reference sheet for almost YEARS now. Ever since I've gotten Marco, I continuously evolved how I draw him, over and over, to a point his old ref had become a detriment, due to how differently I draw him nowadays LOL. One thing that desperately needed a redo for him especially, how his hair is supposed to be drawn + his wings. His wings looked like floppy chicken nuggets on the old one LOL. PLUS! I added a section of details, where I see artists I commissioned, struggle with or fail on. Hopefully the detail section is sufficient in fixing that! I'm not sure, if I should also add a mention, of Marco's dot details below the pink pattern, as even the distance between the dots is different. + I LOVE DRAWING EXPRESSIONS. So to also add a small box of extras for Marco's cool glowy eyes was a treat. <3

I plan to redraw his refs for his magic wind attacks perhaps, as for now, I have a shabby drawing, and I got a free animation program lately, so I can FINALLY unleash my years of experience animating, in the appropriate program now LMAO. My own limitations of using SAI to animate, was making my animations look choppy and bad for years unfortunately, so my art always looked very amateur-ish when I actually know how to animate..

Speaking of that, for the attentive...Yes, I plan to possibly try and draw a 360° turnaround of my characters, as the next natural progression of refs next. I am SO close, so so SO close to making my art finally look like it's part of my project I've been working on for years in private. Ever since this year, people have proven, that you CAN start an animated series on the internet, and it will receive an audience. I also wanted to start an animated series when I was a teen, and now that I'm an adult I can make it happen for sure, with the right talents. When the time comes, I might seek out a music producer and perhaps, if I'll have the money, hire animators, so that I'm not the only one who has to work on the series I planned.

For Zorro....He had it coming. Last time I drew his ref, he looked like a 16 yo/ mobian child, it pissed me off for so many years, once I learned how to properly make adult characters look adult lol. THE CEREAL SPITTER NOW ACTUALLY LOOKS ADULT AND LIKE THE BASTARD SELF HE SHOULD BE. I don't have too much to add to him, but I consider him still a WIP in my brain bc- RAIDER PAGE CODE. I WANNA FINISH. GRABBY HANDS. I CAN FEEL THAT IF I LEARN Z-INDEX FINALLY I CAN REALISE THAT CODE. I've wanted to make a code for my raiders 3 years ago already y'all it's painful to be patient w/ myself sdgkldslgdsg

I'm so satisfied, with my ref sheets finally looking, like a professional drew them imho!! If you disagree w/ that notion, feel free to tell me what's missing or where I need to improve on! :D

My 2024 started amazing and with laughter and appreciation for my friends, I'm so happy finally. 3 years in a row, all I did was cry each new year, and be in pain. 2024 feels like it could be my year. Year of the dragon, bless me with your energetic and powerful spirit please,, 🙏

ANYWAY. Forgive me in advance for watermarks, but I kind of? Am paranoid now over my art a bit bc my work is good now? Like I think I'm in the final stages of my artistry. I can feel, that I might find the perfect style soon. I need to experiment just a bit more. Just a bit more...I might consider loosening up my linework in 2024. I honestly still? Hate lineart? Like..My lineart looks good now, don't get me wrong but. I just love sketchy artwork so much more??? Sketching is so fun, creating is so joyful, when it's a sketch..But lineart kind of.....Ruins my art. I think I should loosen up. It's why I might change my approach a millionth time, but my artstyle has potential now. I don't feel, like my art is awful anymore or worth nothing, it now HAS worth, I now HAVE the right to have an ego about it, but some pieces still are missing, to give me the ultimate happiness and relief in my work. Perhaps if I do some more commissions, I might unlock my final potential? We'll see.

My aspirations for 2024;

Pass the prep-exam for my workplace (I LOVE MY WORK. I SINCERELY WISH I'LL PASS. I love work so much omg I don't wanna be fired so badly)

Draw more art of Finn & Marco so they finally pass Chloe in most images on TH (I REALLY DON'T WANT HER TO HAVE THE MOST IMAGES STILL. It should either be my comfort boys or C.I.Ta)

Be more experimental with mixing medias traditionally (I wanna start mixing mini craft-projects + my drawings or mix more pencils + markers and also glass pens + watercolours. I rlly rlly wanna experiment and go loose.)

Animate more and possibly even post said animations. I know animation takes me HELL OF A LOT of time, as I lack so much time to do so, but I'd love to do that

Stop stressing so hard over OTA's and commissions. I know I tell myself each year, "this year will be the year I wanna finish all my owed art!!" But every once and a while, I need to be a realist to myself, my optimism may be good, but it sometimes..Is a little over-eager. But I noticed in 2023, I really heavily strangle myself out. I haven't drawn any private art since 2020, really.....It says a lot about an artist, if they now haven't drawn a personal drawing and finished it, in the same quality of their owed work for 4 years now. I haven't been really honest to myself and my heart, and I'd like to forgive myself slowly, by allowing to both work on owed work, and start creative, passionate art-projects again, again, where I can let loose and just. Experiment. Do something new. Push the boundaries of my art. Combine medias, collages, etc, anything under the sun I wanna try. I limit myself so hard, over chasing a goal, I can't achieve, if I won't acknowledge, I'll cause my own death as an artist, if I continue to chase unattainable goals, I can't achieve, if I won't be gentle to myself.

Finish revamping my commission sheet. It requires, I draw new examples of course. The big thing I need to warn ahead; I will have a fat price-increase, due to work taking all the time I can have now. I can only work around 4hrs a day on art. My art takes around 20 hours to be finished. Every piece is done with love, with time, with effort. I'm not an artist, who adheres to algorithms. I'm an artist who lives with passion, with freedom in mind. I have an endless amount of ideas, I have an infinite amount of space and ways to create it. I am not a machine, I am, what an artist strives to be. To simply...Create. AI can go to hell, and drag NFTs along with it. I to this day get attempts to be hacked, by tech bros, believe it or not. I pissed off BAYC on Twitter once, and some butthurt idiot, is still trying to get to my Insta and Steam to this day. Won't happen anymore with 2FA idiot, lmao. I won't allow a 2nd hack to happen.

Finish giving ALL my characters on TH a floatie icon. I know w/ 100% certainty, that I got this task in the bag. This one is of no problem at all.

With that, thank you for reading my world-salad! Almost as tasty, as mom's olivier-salad. Yumyum. Btw secret lil teaser ig below here lmao. I started Finn's sheet too, and I've got it 1/3rds done, but I don't wanna burn myself out on ref-sheets, so perhaps you'll see Finn also reworked in a few months! ✨

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skelizard · 1 year

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How do you deal with or avoid artist block &/or burnout?! <8O

Hmm, I don't think I've ever really had 'artist's block', or at least to the extent people describe it. Or maybe I do and I just don't see it as artist's block, idk. I will say that what I'm about to say is comin' from the perspective of someone who ain't doin' it as a career and mostly keeps it as a passionate hobby.

I do from time to time feel a creative lull where I don't feel particularly inspired or have any real urge to draw, that's a completely normal part of bein' creative and it's unavoidable. I think also sittin' round and constantly thinkin' 'oh no I've got art block' only exacerbates the problem n doesn't help, it's just passive pessimism. Part of dealin' with it is acceptin' the fact you're in a lull and just, go off to do other things. Do other hobbies, play a new game, go outside, watch a series, read a book, anythin' that isn't makin' art basically. These art block periods are a good opportunity to search for new inspiration and I find eventually, either from doin' one of these things or just lettin' the creative lull simmer for a bit, you'll find a lil nugget that gives you an idea that you really wanna draw. There's gonna be times where you feel ya can't draw or everythin' that's comin' out sucks and that's fine, just take a break if you can. Sometimes I still feel the itch to draw durin' these periods and instead of tryin' to make somethin' exclusively from my brain/original I'll do studies, animal portraits, fanart, basically just somethin' that isn't as mentally intensive as doin' entirely original stuff. That and also mindless doodling, drawing with no vision or goal in mind n just lettin' your hand draw what it wants to draw. Another thing you can try is different mediums, sculpture, 3d modelling, embroidery, ect. It's good for the soul to try out different things, and the good thing bout tryin' somethin' new to you is you can't expect it to be good, so it doesn't matter if it looks bad. Makin' bad art is good for you actually.

As for avoiding burnout, again I'm speakin' from the perspective of someone who isn't doin' this as my job so I only draw when I feel like drawin', which just happens to be pretty often. In fact not doin' it as my job is probably one of the best things I could've done in avoiding severe burnout, I did commissions for a few years and the burnout was Real (not to put people off from doin' commissions it just wasn't for me). These days I feel I'm constantly operating on low energy and as a result I don't really do a whole lotta 'big finished illustrations' anymore, at least not as often as I used to. I don't really try to push myself beyond the energy levels that I have and as a result I feel I create stuff generally a lot slower these days than I used to, and that's fine! Just gotta accept it and move on. Also just doin' sketches is fine! Don't gotta do fully finished paintings n whatever all the time. Also be realistic about your goals n projects, if you wanna make a 300 page comic n you haven't even completed a single 1 page comic then you're just settin' yourself up for failure. You can still have your 300 page comic idea but focus on makin' multiple much much smaller comics first, you'll feel a lot better and more motivated havin' completed many smaller projects than only havin' that one massive unfinished project loomin' over your head, and it'll train/prepare you for makin' that bigger project. This applies to any sort of creative project, comics are just on the brain right now. Bein' realistic with yourself n not biting off more than you can chew, n lettin' yourself have breaks helps with burnout a lot. I also almost exclusively these days just doodle my characters, so it helps to just draw the things you really wanna draw, especially if you're just a hobbyist. Nothin' kills motivation more than constantly makin' yourself draw shit you simply don't wanna do.

This gotta kinda long but basically my advice just boils down to just chill out, creative lulls are normal, be kinder to yoself, hopefully somethin' in there helps ya out.

#ask #chatter

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shawnjacksonsbs · 10 months

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My truth(s) 8-19-23

"The way you would draw a tree is different from the way some else would draw a tree - and that's the way it's supposed to be!" - Mr. Fred Rogers

So much of our lives is spent interacting with others. . .

It's hard to differentiate between not caring what some say or feel, while trying to listen to those we do care about.

"I don't care what they think!"

"I'll accept this person's criticism, but not yours."

All the while, everyone has an opinion for you.

Do you walk, or at least try to walk in such a way that Jesus would be proud. Like, do you treat others the way Jesus would want?

Then, we might actually have more in common than you think.

This is the part I want to focus on. . .when I write and in my walk on this side of life, the loving things we have in common.

The things we disagree on that present themselves as toxic or argumentative should be held for higher caliber form of loving that only certain people can handle.

I fall short here some times myself. I used to be way worse about it. But I can't let that keep me from the much needed progressive movements forward that I know I still need to make either, though.

We is it so hard for some people to accept that my truth works for me, the same way yours does for you?

There are issues that will have on us on opposite ends sometimes, but shouldn't the car we travel in be more important than who has more control of the steering wheel. I mean, at least we're riding together.

If I think you're trying to wreck us on purpose, I can just get in with some else, but I truly believe that almost all of us want good and have good hearts. Therefore riding with someone else that I don't see eye to eye with on several issues, can actually help educate me further.

Empathy is better served on the opposition than you think. Just sayin'.

My note-taking is a bargaining tool for my brain. It's the compromise I need, but at more current intervals and in moments of free time, which I sorely lack these days.

It is, still, how I stay healthy.

Sometimes I still wonder what life would look like if I could actually accept another's truth as a truth for me. Man, some of it would probably bring me so much peace. Lol But struggle, having and getting through struggle is where we find joy.

And although peace is important, I wish that I had even more of it, without joy sprinkled throughout, peace doesn't mean as much to me.

Grateful for everything, means grateful for everything. It's still a training exercise for me, for which I may never fully arrive, but I am trying, very much.

A couple pretty cool things happened to me today. It's Thursday by the way. Lol

May or may not be the last note I take, but. . .

First I got a phone call informing me that I was getting my deductible back. The one I paid on the renters insurance claim from the fire back in Sept. It didn't make us rich by any means, but still nice.

And 2nd, a call from the lawyer. As long as my oldest son continues to do good and stays in the program one of his charges will go bye bye at the end of the year. A completely unrelated issue.

Just goes to show ya, that if you do good, ya get good.

Both calls in the same hour. My smile never had a chance to leave my face. Lol

It was a good day.

I'll probably close with Happy birthday dad, R.I.P.

Tomorrow, I'll be reading a book on eagles for Pawpaw's story time in honor of the old man's birthday.

Remember to share your love and your laughter with the world, live your truth, and do human . . .better.

It's only slightly more abrasive than it's relative toxic opposites, and usually only in the beginning.

Until next week 2 quotes to end on;

"I did my homework, explored options and belief systems, and realized that there was no perspective I could consider it from where I actually could agree with it and honestly mean it. Honesty is important to me and it was important to me that I be honest with myself and those around me. Not saying there aren't nuggets of wisdom in many different religions. There are. But I can't get on board with any of them as a whole particularly when it comes to miracles and deities." - Melissa Myers (random Facebook commenter)

"Part of the problem with the word 'disabilities' is that it immediately suggests an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted. But what of people who can't feel? Or talk about their feelings? Or manage their feelings in constructive ways? What of people who aren't able to form close and strong relationships? And people who cannot find fulfillment in their lives, or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness and find in life no joy, no love? These, it seems to me, are the real disabilities." - Mr Fred Rogers

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vvatchword · 1 year

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Imagination Nugget

So I went to a ketamine retreat. This shit ain’t cheap. I went into yet more debt just to do it. But my therapist told me that people come out of it with long-term benefits. See, I have what they call treatment-resistant depression, otherwise known as “I have seen the face of god and he wasn’t that great”. It is a reverse high. The Reverse Uno card of mental health. The thing that happens to Lovecraft main characters when they see the true nature of the universe. Y’know.

The retreat was held in a turn-of-the-century house downtown. Gorgeous old thing. Enormous 8-foot-tall windows, original glass and clasps, wonderful porch that directed breezes oh-just-right, Grecian portico for some reason (?). (Just goes to show that you can have money and no taste in any time period.) Cracked me up that I was lying on the drawing room floor getting high with a bunch of strangers. Man, imagine how pissed-off some Victorian grandmadam would be about that shit. “You were doing WHAT in MY drawing room?!”

I was only nervous once and it was because there were eleven people crammed in 300 square feet and I was about to caveman-spongebob right out the window.

Can I ask y’all a question, though

Is it possible to engage with drugs holistically without all the touchy-feely stuff? Or the strange religious overtones? Because I felt pretty silly. I could tell one of the other people there was also super not into the tone. Like you and me buddy, you and me both. And the thing is, I see why they’re doing a lot of it. I’ll take the meditation but why are we burning sage and must there be crystals everywhere? They had one of those baked amethysts sitting on a table--you put an amethyst in an oven and bake it a while and it’ll turn yellow so then you can market it as citrine. I’d even rather have the bad painting of the jaguar on the second-floor landing than a hospital setting. But also... like... they talked about the trip as a journey. You know what I did? Sink into my own brain and have the zoomies. It wasn’t a journey, it was a house party with me as the only guests. I didn’t see any visuals and I was always aware of where and when I was. Ketamine, like THC and Adderall, slows time down for me. Also, I became a brain in a meat popsicle. That was fine. I loved it.

I started it out thinking, “This shot ain’t SHIT.” I quickly ended up with, “This shot ain’t... oh shit oh shit cooooooool byyyyye” Buzzing waves flowed up from the bottom of my brain to the top over and over and over and I was just the happiest damn human being who ever lived. I started getting worried about the fact I wasn’t worried, then thought “Nah” and floated off doing mental backflips. I thought about my brother at one point but I wasn’t even mad. I was like “Yep there he be” and cartwheeled outta there. At one point I realized I could conceivably let go enough to achieve ego death. I wasn’t afraid of it; I just didn’t want to do it. So I didn’t. I just played with all of my toys in my own brain. It was like I was given permission to ignore the outside world and all of my fears and worries completely, which happened to be all centered around my physical motherfucking body and where it is in space and time and its relationship to other human beings. Also, at that point I had paid an ungodly amount of money for a clinician to look after my prone drooling form, so I was able to surrender literally every care on Earth and go sprinting after every mental earworm I have ever had. Story idea? Sure! Think about what I can use this for in my story? Sure! Imagine how pissed off the original owners of the house would be that I’m doing this here? YESSSS

I am told I just lay there completely still, which is great, as I thought I was lying completely still. Because I lay still, I was offered a second dose, which means I got MORE KETAMINE. Just like in real life, people never know that I’m actually having a party inside of my own brain.

“Are you okay?”

“yyyyeaaaah :)”

“How do you feel?”

“Good :)))) Izzz powerfullll”

“It’s powerful? Would you like more?”

“Yezzzzzzz”

and you know what

I GOT MORE B))))))

Man drugs are great. Who’s gatekeeping this shit? Give me this shit. Every day. Give me all this shit.

One of the things we had to do was go into this ceremony with an Intention. What did we want out of our trip? And I just said, “Honestly, I just want to go with the flow. I don’t care. I want to see what happens and I just hope I get something good out of it.” Out of my laundry list of psychological hangups--which included despair, unbelievable rage, suicidal ideation, deep and inconsolable grief--you’d think I’d have found something. Nope. The element that stood out to me wasn’t even on my fucking list.

I realized how much I loved retreating into that specific part of my brain to play with my toys in my imaginary space. And what’s more, that’s totally possible without any drugs at all. I had such a powerful experience there that I can show you where it fucking is just by touching my head. It’s still buzzing as we speak. I realized suddenly that I hadn’t been giving myself any time to go there. I had always gone there in childhood, but the older I got, and the more concerns I picked up, the less I’d let myself retreat to that space. It wasn’t because I felt ashamed of it or anything; it’s because it’s so deep and internal that it takes my eyes off the road, as it were. If I sink into that place too deeply I can get into real trouble lol--I’m talking about walking into traffic or a wall or something--and I don’t feel safe descending into it when there are people around--and at some point I just fell out of the habit of going there.

I described it to my attending physician as an “imagination nugget.” She insisted on calling it a “gift.” Look, you can’t go to a gift. You can, however, go to Imagination Nugget.

I realized I should make time in my day just to completely let go and sink into my little space to play with my toys. And honestly? That’s a great realization to have. Spend more time with myself doing nothing but mental play. GIVE that time to myself, don’t just do it at the end of the day--that’s another thing I realized, that I only give myself time to do that when I’m in bed trying to sleep--which is WHY I HAVE TROUBLE SLEEPING. Because I’m trying to put Imagination Nugget time into my Sleep Time. Durrrrhhh

Also we did art at the end. I felt silly about that too, honestly. I wanted to go home lol. But I did make... art...? In retrospect, I should’ve made it terrible on purpose. But when you spend $800-fucking-dollars on something you treat that shit SERIOUS ok

#vvatchword

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rphelperblog · 2 years

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Heroes of Olympus Rp Meme

“Uh, normally she doesn’t judo-flip people.”

“Knocked out twice in two days,”

“With great power... comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.”

I could use some dam french fries."

“Be careful of love. It'll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong.”

“Life is only precious because it ends, kid.”

“Don't feel bad, I'm usually about to die.”

"I don't know. But I just know that I'll be fighting next to you."

“It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality.”

“It's hard to enjoy practical jokes when your whole life feels like one.”

“The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.”

“You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed.”

“Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to blast you.”

I gave her my deluxe I'll-Kill-You-Later stare.”

“If there’d been an ocean in Kansas, maybe.”

“donuts. Always, donuts.”

“That should’ve killed her!”

“What if we promoted, like, Adidas or something? Would that make Nike mad enough to show up?”

“To be perfect, you have to feel perfect about yourself—avoid trying to be something you’re not.”

“What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.”

“Survive first. Figure out crayon drawing of destiny later.”

“I can’t believe I thought you were hot.”

“I try not to think. It interferes with being nuts

“It seemed weird calling a teenager 'sir' but I'd learned to be careful with immortals. They tended to get offended easily. Then, they blew stuff up.”

"The god's chosen beverage. Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!”

"You look stupid just standing there."

“But remember, boy, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword.”

“Getting something and having the wits to use it...those are two different things.”

'No, that's our huge friend Leroy! He's going to help us!”

“Tell the sun and stars hello for me.”

“FORGET THE CHICKEN-NUGGET SMOKE SCREEN.”

“It could kick some serious booty,”

You're no more a freak than we are. And, hey, maybe you can fly, too. Like jump off a building and yell 'Flame on!'"

"If I did that, you would see a flaming kid falling to his death, and I would be yelling something a little stronger than 'Flame on!”

“Isn’t that Mother Nature? She’s supposed to have, like, flowers in her hair and birds singing around her and dear and rabbits doing her laundry.”

"I mean... Oh, cool! Suffering? I love suffering! Let's do this.”

I'm so cool. I want to date myself, but I don't know how! You want to date me instead? You're so lucky!”

“I fought side by side with the gods and some other demigod…Harry Cleese, I think.”

“I’d eat breakfast, breakfast, and breakfast if I could.”

“and inside were not gardening tools, unless you wanted to make war on your tomato plants.”

“But beauty is about finding the right fit, the most natural fit, To be perfect, you have to feel perfect about yourself --- avoid trying to be something you're not.

“My point is that love is the most powerful motivator in the world. It spurs mortals to greatness. Their noblest, bravest acts are done for love.”

“Shut up, me,”

“Nothing,Long night. I think I’m hallucinating. It’s cool.”

“Just joking.it might be good to change the subject.”

"I am nice! I simple ooze niceness,”

“And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time.”

"Yay! Your brain works!”

“Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say.”

“You must forge your own path for it to mean anything.”

“Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies”

"I'm the bad boy supreme. And the ladies love a bad boy.”

“But magic is neither good nor evil. It is a tool, like a knife. Is a knife evil? Only if the wielder is evil.”

I'm the... What's my title? Am I like, admiral, or captain, or..."

“Safety from what? Who's after me?"

"Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight."

I will have your soul!”

“No one can hate you with more intensity than someone who used to love you.”

"Why do humans have to sway their arms while they walk? I dunno boss, but it just feels right.”

“Do you always try to kill people when they blow their nose?

“Does truth have a moral?”

“Lots of death, huh? Personally, I'm trying to avoid lots of death, but you guys have fun!”

“Well . . . sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor.”

‘I get a little nosebleed and I wake up the entire earth? That’s not fair!”

I had weird dreams full of barnyard animals. Most of them wanted to kill me. The rest wanted food.

“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.

She glared at me like she was going to punch me. And then she did something that surprised me even more. She kissed me.”

“Hot? You dare insult me? I am cold,Very, very cold.”

We've learned that your plans really, really bite!”

“I can’t drown. And neither can my pancakes.”

“Oh my god, I am so awesome!"

"And cute, in a scrawny way,

Baby I invented scrawny. Scrawny is the new sizzling hot.”

“Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It just means that you’re brave enough to stand up and do what’s needed.”

“not giving people a second thought…that can be dangerous.”

“We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later.”

“Almost everything strange washes up near Miami. ”

“Sometimes mortals can be more horrible than monsters.”

I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness."

And so...hypothetically, if these to people likes each other, what would it take to get the stupid guy to kiss the girl, huh?"

“Daddy will explain. Come, he is blowing up monsters.”

“Oh, I wouldn't say Love always makes you happy. Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad.”

"You just . . . with a sword . . . you just—"

“I'm not good with children, Or people. Well, any organic life forms, really.”

Uh...don't we deal in myths?'

'No, I mean it's a MADE-UP myth. Not like, an actual true myth.

“I am never, ever, going to make things easy for you Get used to it.”

#heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #open meme #open to anybody #open to all #open RP #open to anyone #ask meme #rp meme #roleplay meme #memes

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hansolmates · 4 years

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jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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lovethepeacehope4love · 3 years

Text

Unusual Asks

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? neither, iTunes lol but I guess spotify

is your room messy or clean? clean, I’m a Capricorn

what color are your eyes? brown

do you like your name? why? yep, it’s unique

what is your relationship status? newly single...again

describe your personality in 3 words or less determined, curious, sleepy

what color hair do you have? brown

what kind of car do you drive? color? in my dreams its a black mercedes suv lol

where do you shop? Nordstrom, Rails

how would you describe your style? casual but trendy, warm but soft, a sex dream

favorite social media account? the ‘gram

what size bed do you have? queen

any siblings? yep

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? london because it felt more like home than anywhere else i’ve lived

favorite snapchat filter? do people still snap?

favorite makeup brand(s) marc jacobs, hourglass, nars

how many times a week do you shower? 3

favorite tv show? yes

shoe size? 5

how tall are you? 5′1″

sandals or sneakers? sneakers

do you go to the gym? nah but if soul cycle and other gyms weren't so fucking expensive and donated to trump then lets get cut, but I guess planet fitness will do lol or my living room

describe your dream date. walking through the met in the late afternoon to watch them observe art, so they could observe art (me) and then walk through central park to the uws and get dinner somewhere delicious, then go to a fun bar like e’s or jacob’s pickles for drinks, then dessert and then a nice make out session

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? like $2 lol

what color socks are you wearing? white with purple

how many pillows do you sleep with? 2

do you have a job? what do you do? real estate agent, professional over thinker, former stage manager

how many friends do you have? like 5 lol

whats the worst thing you have ever done? I could probably think of something that I did when I was like in high school thats stupid now, but when my sister was pregnant, I thought really upsetting thoughts at my unborn nephew because I was jealous and I could sense she was gonna go away and he ends up having special needs and she did go away and sometimes is still away

whats your favorite candle scent? something with bergamot, cozy af

3 favorite boy names noah, oliver, michael

3 favorite girl names lea, olivia, amelia

favorite actor? evan peters

favorite actress? kerry washington or reese witherspoon

who is your celebrity crush? evan peters

favorite movie? peter pan (2003)

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? yes, but sometimes I forget to. favorite book is probably something by john green lol

money or brains? brains make money

do you have a nickname? what is it? many

how many times have you been to the hospital? once

top 10 favorite songs stupid love by lady gaga, rolling in the deep by adele, fool by fitz, runaway by mat kearney, adventure of a lifetime by coldplay, thunder by imagine dragons, have it all by jason mraz, you and i by jason mraz, sit next to me by foster the people, and drive by by train

do you take any medications daily? yes

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) combo normal-dry

what is your biggest fear? dying alone or falling off a high surface

how many kids do you want? zero

whats your go to hair style? beach waves

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) medium sized 3-bed apt

who is your role model? a few, but the actresses above who do good for womxn, bipoc and marginalized groups in all areas

what was the last compliment you received? that i looked cute today

what was the last text you sent? “perfect”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? I think like 5 or 6 when I noticed Santa had the same handwriting as my Dad

what is your dream car? black suv

opinion on smoking? cigs- nah, weed- ya

do you go to college? sure did

what is your dream job? Broadway / resident PSM at a regional theater

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? the ‘burbs

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? not unless its brand name

do you have freckles? a few

do you smile for pictures? yea

how many pictures do you have on your phone? 871 or somethin

have you ever peed in the woods? yea

do you still watch cartoons? does bob’s burgers count

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? chickie nuggies from wendys

Favorite dipping sauce? ranch

what do you wear to bed? t-shirt/tank with long pj pants but if it’s hot then pj shorts

have you ever won a spelling bee? lol no, never been in one

what are your hobbies? shopping, podcast listening, baby witch things, sleeping, watching tv & movies, youtube makeup videos, makeup

can you draw? lol nope

do you play an instrument? i think I can still play the piano but idk

what was the last concert you saw? lady gaga

tea or coffee? no

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? depends on what im ordering

do you want to get married? yea

what is your crush’s first and last initial? GM

are you going to change your last name when you get married? maybe, if it sounds good

what color looks best on you? bright colors

do you miss anyone right now? yea

do you sleep with your door open or closed? closed

do you believe in ghosts? yea

what is your biggest pet peeve? tardiness

last person you called? mom

favorite ice cream flavor? chocolate

regular oreos or golden oreos? regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? chocolate

what shirt are you wearing? wearing a dress rn

what is your phone background? colorful dots

are you outgoing or shy? yes

do you like it when people play with your hair? usually

do you like your neighbors? all the old people in this building can be quite rude

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? yes

have you ever been high? yes

have you ever been drunk? yes

last thing you ate? spaghetti with balsamic tomato somethin-something I made from HelloFresh

favorite lyrics right now “fooled me for the last time, feels good to be freed”

summer or winter? summer

day or night? day

dark, milk, or white chocolate? milk

favorite month? june

what is your zodiac sign cap

who was the last person you cried in front of? I think my ex as we broke up again?

#idk bored #itme

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 19

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

“I don’t think your husband likes me very much,” Salena comments, as she and Esme lounge in the shade of the back patio.

They share a pitcher of non-alcoholic sangria while watching as Chloe entertains the kids in the pool and Kyle and Tyler –chatting amicably- busy themselves at the barbecue; both shirtless and tanned and buff in their remarkably different ways, both clad in swim shorts that sit dangerously low on their hips. There’s no sign of Ovi; he’d run into town on an errand over an hour again and had yet to return.

“Don’t take it personally,” Esme says, as she stretches her legs and places her feet in the chair across from her; one hand nursing her own drink as the other holds the bottle Addie nurses from as she lays along her mother’s thighs. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

“I’d laugh, but I don’t think you’re joking.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t like people. He’s just very...I don’t know...guarded. He doesn’t trust as easily and quickly as I do. And he has his reasons. Very valid ones.”

“From his military days?”

“That and what he did afterwards. It wasn’t an easy life. For him more so than me. I wasn’t as involved as he was. I was just the ‘brain side’ of things; he was all physical. And it did a lot of damage. Mentally.”

She refuses to delve further into it. It’s not her story to tell; finding it disrespectful - not only to Tyler himself, but the struggles he’s endured and the progress he’s made- to discuss it with anyone without his knowledge.

“And physically by the looks of it,” Salena says.

Esme nods. “The last job we were on...the one that nearly killed him...it caused the most issues. It was a long haul. Months in the hospital, months in inpatient therapy. If you could see what he was like then, you’d see how far he’s come. How hard he to work to get where he is now. I’m proud of him. I don’t tell him that often enough. I should pretty get on that.”

“Well I may not know exactly what you’re talking about or what happened on this last job you worked, but he’s lucky to have you. You’re strong as hell. If you’ve managed to stick around through all of that and through all of whatever happened in Colorado...”

“I guess maybe I’m old fashioned in thinking that you don’t just walk away from things...from people...without trying to work on them first. And I know he comes across pretty intense, but he’s worth it. I wouldn’t have put all the time and the effort into it if he wasn’t. He’s a big man with an even bigger heard. You just have to give him a chance.”

“Think he’ll give me a chance?”

“It’s going to take some time. It’s just who it is. He doesn’t like people in his space. Don’t let him get to you. He’s not doing it to hurt you. He’s doing it to protect himself.”

“Men are brilliant at that, aren’t they?” Salena smirks. “Guarding themselves like that? “

“And he’s twice as bad as your average man,” Esme says. “I love him...with all that I am and all that I have...but he’s exhausting.”

The other woman laughs at that. “You know what’s exhausting? Your children. Are they always like this?”

“Always. From the time they get up in the morning. They can’t sit still. Ever. They're all energy, stamina, and fearlessness. Have you seen my son’s face? He got into a fight at school. Defending his brother. Four older kids jumped him, and he kicked their asses. All of them. AT the same time. And I’m not naming names or finger pointing but guess what parent he gets THAT from. Here’s a hint: it’s not me.”

“I don’t think they got anything from you,” Salena remarks. “Are you sure you gave birth to them? Because not one of them looks like you.”

“Right?! I told you. I wasn’t joking. They all look like him. They’re exactly like him; head to toe. Inside and out. How unfair is that? Mind you, it’s still touch and go with Tanner. Personality wise. He’s on the fence but he leans more towards me. That other ones? All Tyler.”

“Strong genes.”

“Whatever you do, do not say that to him. Because we’ll get into a conversation about it and you’ll have to hear about his dominate DNA and his super sperm and no one...and by no one, I mean me...wants to hear that.”

Salena laughs and reaches for the pitcher of sangria and fills both their glasses. Well you did get one that looks like you. That little nugget is definitely all mommy.”

“So far,” Esme agrees. “But she’s a tough little thing. She probably should still be in the hospital because of how small she was when she was born and all the problems she had, but she was not having any of it. There was no way she was staying there, and she proved all the doctors. She is a little nugget,” she leans down and presses a kiss to Addie’s forehead, then places the empty bottle on the table and lifts her to her chest. “Won’t be for long eating the way she does, mind you.”

“Speaking of eating,” Salena comments. “I see something I’d like to eat.”

Esme glances towards what has captured her friend’s attention; both Tyler and Kyle standing at the side of the barbecue, the latter talking animatedly about one of his especially daring fireman rescues and dramatically flexing his biceps.

“Okay as much as it grosses me out because he’s my brother. I’m hoping it’s Kyle you’re talking about and not my husband. Because I have to draw the line somewhere on comments I won’t allow.”

“Honey, your man is fine as hell and I was not expecting THAT when I walked over here today. Not in a million years was I expecting him to look like he does. When you said retired, I thought you meant old man retired. But I’d never disrespect you by taking things too far. I definitely was talking about your brother.”

“Ewww,” she wrinkles her nose in disgusts, then holds Addie out at arms lengths, one hand under her bum, the other supporting the back of her head. “...can you believe that, Addie? Someone finding Uncle K attractive? Uncle Shrek is more like it.”

“I know you aren't talking about me,” he comments, as he steps up onto the patio, a slight sunburn gracing his broad shoulders, ball cap backwards on his head, sunglasses on.

“You’re the only uncle here so if the shoe fits...”

“See what I put up with?” He winks at Salena. “Thirty-five years of this. Her talking shit about me like that. You think she’s all sweet and cute? Try growing up with her. Pain in the ass.”

Esme smirks. “Kyle used to undress all my Barbies and put them in compromising positions together all over my doll house. And then he’d try and convince our mom that I did it.”

He grins at the memory. “You were a twisted little thing. Even then.”

“I was five! You were eight and sneaking peeks at Mike’s porn collection he kept under his mattress. Don’t even try to deny it. Perv.”

“I was...curious...” he reasons.

“He also used to like walking around in mom’s high heels. He used to steal them out of her closet and parade around like RuPaul.”

“Why is why my calves and my ass are as fabulous as they are,” Kyle concludes. “You ladies need anything? Kids want something to drink.”

“I’m fine,” Esme says. “But Addie needs something?”

“What’s that?”

She holds the baby out to him. “You’ll smell it in about five seconds.”

“Really, bean?” he grimaces as he takes her from her mother. “How does someone so small smell so bad?”

“Because she’s a Rake and they’re all rotten inside. Big and small. Thank you, big brother. You’re a gem.”

“And you’re still a pain in the ass,” he playfully retorts, and then disappears into the house.

“Oh yeah,” Salena sighs. “I would definitely eat that.”

“Please tell me you’re not talking about my brother’s ass when you’ve only known him for two days.”

“I don’t mean eat in a literal way. Or maybe I do. Because I’d let him eat mine like a cupcake.”

“Oh my God,” Esme nearly spits her drink across the table. “That’s my brother! And I have my kinks but...ewwww....” she gags. “...even I draw the line somewhere.”

“Oh, come on! You mean you’ve never done it or had it done?”

“No. Hell no. Just....” she makes a retching noise. “...I think I’m going to puke.”

“Does he do that sort of thing?”

“I don’t know. He’s my brother. I don’t know what he does in the bedroom. I don’t even want to think about it. He did have an ex-girlfriend that was a dominatrix though.”

Salena’s eyes widen.

“He met her when there was a fire at a sex show. I do not make this stuff up. It’s the honest to God truth. He’s a fireman. He has met women in the weirdest situations.”

“Has he ever been married? Any kids?”

“No and no.”

“Single?”

“Sadly, no. But he can be. Do you want him to be? I can make it happen.”

“I do not want you breaking him and his girlfriend up just for me.”

“Oh, I don’t like her anyway. We have history. And not good history, either. I can hook you up. Want me to take one of the team? I’ll do it.”

“You’ll do what?” Tyler asks as he joins them on the patio, Declan on his hip, wrapped in an oversized beach towel.

“Nothing,” she quickly and innocently replies. “I’m doing absolutely nothing. What are you doing?”

“I’m bringing you your kid. He wants mommy.”

“Sure he does. You’re his favorite. Don’t bring him here.”

“I’m busy doing shit. Here... go see mommy...” he places Declan in her lap then places a hand on the back of her neck and a kiss to her cheek. “Do I even want to know what you two are doing?” he asks, as he grabs a disposable plastic cup from a stack on the table and pours himself some of the sangria.

“We were just talking about eating ass,” Esme replies, and he scowls. “Were your ears burning, honey? Because they should have been.”

“We do a lot of weird shit, but we don’t do THAT.”

“Salena wants Kyle to eat her ass like a cupcake.”

He nearly chokes on a mouthful of sangria.

“You never learn your lesson about walking in on girl talk,” Esme says. “You wanted to know what we were doing, now you do. Hey,” she snags him by the wrist before he can walk away. “I need you to me a favor.”

“If it involves THAT, you married the wrong guy.”

“Salena wants to feel you up. Let her touch your arm.”

“What?” he laughs. “Why?”

“She told me that she asked you earlier today and that you said no. Because you said it was disrespectful towards me letting another woman do it. Which is very sweet, and I love you very much for, by the way. So she asked me to ask you. If she could touch your arm.”

Tyler glances back and forth between the two women. “You’re kidding, right?”

“She’s curious. She’s never seen arms like that. She’s lived a sheltered life. If I didn’t know you, I’d want to touch them too. Please? Make her day. Just flex and let her feel them. I promise I won’t get mad.”

“You’re both fucked,” he declares, but relents; quickly flexing his left arm and allowing Salena’s hand to explore. Starting at the shoulder and travelling over both bicep and tricep before ending up on his forearm. “You’re lucky I love you,” he says to his wife, palms coming to rest on the arms of her chair as he leans down to kiss her; long, soft, and enough to make her toes curl.

“Do I get kissed like that too?” Salena inquires as he walks off, frowning when she gets the middle finger in response.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?!” Esme calls after him. “I love you! Just so you know!”

“I now understand why you have five kids,” Salena says. “Because if I had a body like that next me in bed every night...”

“Sorry. He’s taken. He’s all mine.”

“Lucky bitch.” Salena mutters, and then playfully digs her elbow into Esme’s side. “This must be the bonus kid.” she says, as Ovi steps through the sliding doors; giving a sheepish smile and a small wave, clutching a colorful bouquet of flowers in his other hand.

“This one is my favorite,” Esme declares. “Just don’t tell the others. Why are you all dressed up?” she asks him, studying the short-sleeved button down and his neatly pressed khaki pants. “You clean up good.”

“Just wanted to look good, I guess. These are for you,” he offers Esme the flowers. “Just because.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Ovi,” she presses a kiss to his cheek as he leans down to embrace her. “I wasn’t THAT mad at you. You didn’t have to get me flowers.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

“I’m going to go and get a refill,” Salena announces, as she stands and grabs the nearly empty pitcher of sangria. “Seems like you two need to talk. And who knows, maybe Kyle needs some help.”

“My brother knows how to change a diaper,” Esme retorts. “No groping him in front of my kid!”

“I make no promises,” her friend laughs, and then disappears into the house.

****

Ovi slips into the chair alongside of her, greeting Declan enthusiastically as the toddler climbs off Esme’s lap and into his. He’s a favorite with all the kids; affectionate and compassionate and possessing the patience of a saint.

Smiling, she lifts the flowers to her face and inhales deeply, then leans sideways in her chair and presses a kiss to his cheek. “They’re beautiful, thank you. That’s very sweet of you. Tyler’s going to be worried you’re setting the bar too high for him.”

Ovi chuckles at that.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she insists. “You know that, right? I don’t you buying me thing to get back on my good side. You could have just come and talked to me.”

“I know. I guess I was just afraid to. After what happened the other night, I was worried I’d only make things worse. I never meant for things to come out like that; I wanted to talk to you myself. I didn’t want you finding out like that.”

“Well Chloe has a real way of making a mess of things.” Esme concludes. “I guess she told you? That I confronted her. Gave her shit?”

Ovi nods.

“She said a lot of things that were out of line. About me. About my kids. About Tyler. And you know defensive I get. Especially about him. He’s the person she should be talking shit about. Considering he’s the reason you’re even here. That he nearly died making sure you even got to see your fifteenth birthday.”

‘I know. And I told her that. That she had no right saying things about him. That he doesn’t deserve it.”

“No. He doesn’t. And you know what else he doesn’t deserve? Getting dragged back into this bullshit. He gave it up, Ovi. The job. He walked away. Not just to save himself, but to keep his family together. You know important that is to him. Having a family.”

“I do,” Ovi confirms.

“Then why couldn’t you just let him have a life? Why couldn’t you just let him rest? He deserves that. Hasn’t he done enough? Hasn’t he sacrificed enough for the job? For you?”

“I didn’t mean to drag him into it. I just thought he could help with some things. Maybe do some easy jobs from time to time. Until we could get things off the ground.”

“There is no such thing as an easy job,” she argues. “There’s always a chance that something will go wrong. That you could get hurt. Or worse. But then you went to Nik? Before you even talked to Tyler? What the hell? He’s the first person you should have went to.”

“I just wanted advice,” he attempts to explain. “About how to talk to him about it. And I figured...”

“The last person you should be going to about how to deal with Tyler is Nik. Trust me. She doesn’t even know how to deal with Tyler properly. She just knows how to take advantage of him and manipulate him. You realize that’s what she did, right? That she used his PTSD against him and all the fear he had about not being to provide for his family. She completely fucked with his head. That’s not okay, Ovi. That’s nowhere near okay. Yet you turn around and trust her before you trust him?”

“I never thought about all of that,” he admits. “And I really did only go to her for advice. And then she offered me a job and...”

“Did you really tell her that you felt you something to prove to him?”

Ovi blinks. “What?”

“She told Tyler that he’s the reason you started thinking about the job. That he made you feel as if you needed to prove to him that you were worthy of his love. That you were worthy of being treated like one of his kids.”

“I never said that. I would never say that.:

“Are you sure? Because that’s what Nik told him. That he’s the reason you wanted to do the job. That he made you feel like you had to.”

“I would never say that!” he insists. “Not everything he’s done for me. Not just in Dhaka but when he came to Mumbai to help, when he talked to my father about letting me live with you, everything in Colorado, and now here. I would never say that about him. And he’s never made me feel like that. Ever.”

“Are you bullshitting me? Because if I find out you’re lying to me and you did say all that about him...”

“I swear! On my mother’s grave. I never said anything like that. And I never will. Why would Nik tell him that?”

“Because she’s Nik,” Esme grumbles. “Because she wants to manipulate him into her helping. And it worked. You know he agreed, right? To help you. To train you?”

He nods.

Esme scoffs. “You’re going to need a bigger set of balls because he is going to hard core on you. He won’t show you any mercy. You think basic training for the military sounds tough? This will be ten times worse. And when he’s in that ‘zone’, he’s ruthless. Savage. He will break oyu. I’m not even joking. You really think you’re ready for that?”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

“Oh you’re going to find out. When he has you passing out or puking all over the place. I am telling you; you need to be prepared. You need to be ready. Because he will not go easy on you. He might even go even harder on you than anyone else. Consider yourself warmed.

Ovi sighs heavily.

“Why are you even doing this?” she asks. “Getting involved in the job? I don’t get it. I can’t even wrap my head around it. After everything that happened in Dhaka. Everything you saw. Why? Was that not traumatizing enough? Because it sure as hell was for me. And I already had firsthand experience in absolutely shit shows. But that? On the bridge? That was fucked up, Ovi. And I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.”

“You went through more than I did,” he attempts to reason. “You stayed there. With him.”

“Well someone had to because Nik sure as shit wasn’t sticking around. And this isn’t about me and what I did. This is about you wanting to do the job and me not understanding why. Is it Chloe? Did she put you up to this?”

“I swear it was not her.”

“Then what the hell? It’s not Tyler. It’s not Chloe. Is it me? Did I say something or do something because I...?”

“No!” Ovi interjects. “It’s definitely not you. You’re my mom. The only mom I’ve ever had. That I remember. It’s not you.”

“Then help me understand this,” she implores. “Because I don’t get it. I don’t get why...after everything you’ve been through and after everything that Tyler’s been through...you’d want that life.”

“I honestly don’t know,” he admits. “I just want to do it. I have to do it.”

“That makes absolutely zero sense. Ovi, you need to listen to me. Because I’m going to talk you like a mother. Actually, I am going to resort to begging you. Forget about this. The job. Don’t do this. It is not the life you want and it’s not the life I want for you. I’ve lived that life. Long before you came along. Before Tyler even came along. I have seen what happens to people. Good people that thought they could handle the job and couldn’t. And it didn’t end well. The job destroys you. Slowly. It kills you from the inside out. Until you either put a bullet in your brain or someone else does it for you.”

He nods slowly and swallows heavily, considering her brutally honest words.

“The job never lets you go,” Esme continues. “Even when you walk away. You see that. You’ve been with us for five years now. You see what it’s done to Tyler. You know the demons he battles with every minute of every day. You’ve seen him when he’s been in the darkest possible places and he’s wanted to kill himself. You’re here on the days he can’t even get out of bed. Why would you want that for yourself? I don’t want that for you. And I know Tyler doesn’t want that for you.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes back tears. “That he’s gone through all of that. That he still goes through it.”

“But you’re still going to do it, aren’t you. You’re still going to go through with this.”

He nods.

Sighing heavily, she shakes her head in disbelief, then places her elbow on the arm rest and her cheek on her palm. She glances out towards the pool where Tyler now stands at the edge; arms crossed over his chest as he looks down at Millie, who's in the midst of a rather animated tale, hands wildly moving and gesturing with nearly every word. She’s tall and lanky yet still looks so tiny alongside of him, and when stops talking she copies his stance of arms over chest, hip slightly cocked to the side. Their resemblance uncanny as they stare one another down; same color and texture of hair, same skin tone, same facial expression.

He breaks first, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. And Millie giggles when he effortlessly scoops her up off the ground with one arm, then shrieks when he tosses her into the water. The twins want in on the action and they quickly scramble for the ladders on the sides of the pool, their bare feet smacking against the deck as they rush towards him. The fun lasts for several minutes; the kids squealing and each time they’re hurled into the water, making it a competition on who can make the biggest and loudest splash. There’s a smile on Tyler’s face. A genuine smile. For a long time, he’d had to force them for the sake of the kids; the depression so powerful and profound that most days just putting one foot in front of the other was considering tremendous progress. But it’s real now; lighting up his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes. And it’s so beautiful.

“Ovi,” Esme begins, as she struggles to hold back the fold of threatening to me. “I need you to listen to what I’m about to say. And it’s going to sound super harsh and I’m sorry for that and you know that I love you like you’re one of my own.”

He nods.

“But if something happens and you fuck up and you need Tyler to come and save your ass, you better make sure he comes home. Alive. Because if he doesn’t, I will never...ever...forgive you. Do you understand me? If something happens to him and he doesn’t make it out of there and you do, I will spend the rest of my life hating you. Because that is my husband. The father of my children. The love of my life. And if he dies, I will hold you responsible and I will make sure it haunts you until you take your last breath.”

The sliding door opens and Salena and Kyle step out, chatting and laughing as if they’ve been friends forever, Salena now sporting his baseball hat. And Kyle frowns when he sees his sister’s tear stained face and her attempts at brushing away the remnants of her emotional meltdown.

He glares at Ovi. “What the hell did you do to my sister?”

“Nothing,” Esme answers for him, using the back of her hand to clean up the last of the tears. “You know how I get; how I cry for the stupidest reasons sometimes. I just had a baby three weeks ago. My hormones are still messed up.”

“You sure?” her brother asks. “Because...”

“Because what? What are you going to do, K? Beat him up? I already have one overprotective man in my life, I don’t need another. I’m fine. It’s just my emotions; all over the place.” She gives him a reassuring smile as she pushes her chair away from the table and stands up. “I’m going to go in and start bringing things out. If you want to hold onto little bean there...”

“You kidding? I’m going to hold her forever. I’m never giving this one back.”

“You might have to fight her for over that. He’s sort of attached to her. That’s his last one and he’s enjoying it all he can.”

Kyle shakes his head. “I keep telling you both. Go for the even half dozen. The procedure can be reversed and then just get it done again after the sixth.”

“Yeah, that’s a no from me, Kyle. We’ve reached our limit. Five is fine. Neither of us are OCD enough to make it an even number.”

“One more,” he encourages. “A boy.”

“You’re insane. Three boys are enough. More than enough. You want babies, you have them. Find someone that’s actually willing to have sex with you and put your spawn in them. My baby making days are over, thank you very much.”

“I’m kind of one Kyle’s side here,” Salena says. “One more wouldn’t hurt. And you guys make really cute kids, so...”

“No more babies,” Esme insists. “That’s it. We’ve reached the end of the line. And don’t even think about putting this bullshit in Tyler’s head because he comes to me and suddenly thinks another one is a good idea, I’m coming to kick both your asses.”

“Do you want some help?” Salena inquires as Esme heads for the door. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine. I’ll call you if I need you. You’re a guest. So just sit down and do guest stuff. Or get Kyle to flex and feel up his arm. So you can see the difference. Boy versus man. And you’re the former, Kyle. In case there was any doubt.”

“That’s harsh,” he complains. “My arms are just as big.”

“Sure,” his sister agrees. “If you put both of yours together. Then they’re as big as one of Tyler’s.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re a savage, kid. A straight savage.”

“Personally. I think your arms are just right.” Salena drawls, then gives him a wink before following her friend into the house.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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theycallmegothboy · 3 years

Note

1-100 >:DDDD REVENGE!!!

FELIXXXXXXXXXXXX >:(( 1. Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? -spotify 2. is your room messy or clean? -it’s pretty messy i guess 3. what color are your eyes? -blue and grey

4. do you like your name? why? -yeah it’s fine 5. what is your relationship status? -single 6. describe your personality in 3 words or less -certified intrusive thot 7. what color hair do you have? -brown and rn it’s red 8. what kind of car do you drive? color? -i dont have a car 9. where do you shop? -hot topic, goodwill, target 10. how would you describe your style? -comfy emo 11. favorite social media account -of mine, probably discord or youtube 12. what size bed do you have? -twin >:(( 13. any siblings? -i have 1.5 brothers 14. if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? -probably vancouver, idk canada seems lit 15. favorite snapchat filter? -i like the one with devil horns and a tail but its cute 16. favorite makeup brand(s) -i dont wear makeup 17. how many times a week do you shower? -i used to shower every day, but i dont do anything that gets me dirty so like maybe 3 times but if i leave the house then i shower 18. favorite tv show? -stranger things 19. shoe size? -8 or 9 20. how tall are you? -5′6 with shoes >:(( 21. sandals or sneakers? -sneakers wtf 22. do you go to the gym? -lol no 23. describe your dream date -making some pie or something together and then eating the pie and then sitting on some rooftop looking at stars 24. how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? -quite a bit actually but i’m saving up for a phone lol so soon it will be like maybe 10 dollars lmao 25. what color socks are you wearing? -not wearing socks but the ones i had earlier were white (ankle length) 26. how many pillows do you sleep with? -just one but it sucks 27. do you have a job? what do you do? -NO BUT IM TRYING TO GET A JOB BUT THE FUCKIN PEOPLE THERE ARE GHOSTING ME AND WONT REPLY TO MY EMAILS SO LIKE SBJHBJS 28. how many friends do you have? -like 4 lmao 29. whats the worst thing you have ever done? -idk nothing super bad but i do a lot of small shit that makes me feel guilty when i realize what i did 30. whats your favorite candle scent? -juniper rosewood 31. 3 favorite boy names -leo, clay, charlie 32. 3 favorite girl names -ivy, uh... idk thats all ive got 33. favorite actor? -no clue 34. favorite actress? -no clue 35. who is your celebrity crush? -not a celeb but i’d smash danny phantom 36. favorite movie? -nightmare before christmas or edward scissorhands 37. do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? -no, but my fav book is probably the prince and the pauper? idk 38. money or brains? -CASH MONEYYYY jk probably brains but if your entire personality is being “smart” like fuck off lmao 39. do you have a nickname? what is it? - a bunch of people call me son (see #49, #100), some call me rat, dumdum, goth boy

40.how many times have you been to the hospital? -just once i think when i was birthed. i also went once with my brother cause he kicked some scissors i left out on the floor and it sliced his toe the fuck open and he needed stitches and i watched him get the stitches and almost passed out :/ 41. top 10 favorite songs -please dont make me do this i dont have it in me 42. do you take any medications daily? -yea i take 20mg of vyvanse but i need to get it raised to 30 cause 20 is Not Enough 43. what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) -i got some dry fuckin skin yall dont even know 44. what is your biggest fear? -it depends. the dark is a pretty constant one though 45. how many kids do you want? -like 2 or 3 eventually 46. whats your go to hair style? -in my face, looking stupid 47. what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) -it’s pretty small 48. who is your role model? -i dont fuckin know lmao 49. what was the last compliment you received? - “i belive in you, my son, you’re an amazing human being“ (same friend mentioned in #100, not actually a parent of mine) 50. what was the last text you sent? -”no it’s a raccoon“ YOU GET NO CONTEXT LMAO 51. how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? -i dont think i ever hardcore believed in him, maybe i did though i remember sleeping under the tree one christmas eve waiting for him but i was like “oh yeah that makes sense“ i guess 52. what is your dream car? -i honestly dont give a shit as long as it actually fucking works 53. opinion on smoking? -cigarettes? fuck no that’s nastyyy. weed? that’s fine i guess but wait till you’re like 18. 54. do you go to college? -no. am sophomore n highschool 55. what is your dream job? -musician/palentologist 56. would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? -fuck the suburbs lmao, but also im tired of rural, so like.. semi urban?? 57. do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? -no but i take the little soaps >:)) 58. do you have freckles? -yes 59. do you smile for pictures? -awkwardly, yes 60. how many pictures do you have on your phone? -dont have a phone but i have like 12 on my computer currently. 4 are of me, the rest are of my cat or random shit 61. have you ever peed in the woods? -yes 62. do you still watch cartoons? -cartoons these days kinda suck but like if they were good fuck yeah i would like gravity falls can come hang yknow? 63. do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? -i had nuggets from mcdonalds today so i guess them? i dont really care 64. Favorite dipping sauce? -i got sweet and sour but i dont like it that much. that schezuan sauce was great 65. what do you wear to bed? -wouldnt you like to know? ;)) 66. have you ever won a spelling bee? -NO ive only been in two. the first one i misspelled the word “turmoil“ cause i had never heard it before and the second one i spelled the word “owed“ as “ode“ cause i was thinking like ode to joy and then i felt like a big Fool afterwards :(( 67. what are your hobbies? -lol what hobbies 68. can you draw? -i am physically able to draw, but not well, no 69 (haha). do you play an instrument? -yeah i play a few 70. what was the last concert you saw? -i saw Chicago in either georgia or tennessee i cant remember in like 2016 71. tea or coffee? -hot coffee, iced tea. NOT the other way around. (i love both though) 72. Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? -starbucks 73. do you want to get married? -sure why not 74. what is your crush’s first and last initial? -dont have a crush 75. are you going to change your last name when you get married? -idk maybe 76. what color looks best on you? -i dont know but i wear black a lot and that’s pretty dope 77. do you miss anyone right now? -yeah 78. do you sleep with your door open or closed? -closed 79. do you believe in ghosts? -on the fence. not 100% “oh my god look at these gHoSt oRbS i need to sage my house!!!“ but i accept that there’s some things i wont understand about the world and that i have no answers to. i wouldnt be surprised if there are, and i wouldnt be surprised if there aren’t. 80. what is your biggest pet peeve? -whatever my adhd decides i viscerally hate with a firey passion right at that moment 81. last person you called -my brother (the 1 of the 1.5 from #13 and the one who sliced his toe in #40) 82. favorite ice cream flavor? -chocolate is dope 83. regular oreos or golden oreos? -regular double stuff. if you say golden, mint, peppermint, or thin oreos i’m gonna have to euthanize you, i dont make the rules. 84. chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? -rainbow cause it’s prettier 85. what shirt are you wearing? -queen shirt from hot topic 86. what is your phone background? -i didnt get a phone between question 60 and now but my computer one is some mountains with the moon in the background 87. are you outgoing or shy? -really depends on who i’m around 88. do you like it when people play with your hair? -YES FUCK AAAAAAA (this girl played with my hair literally once in middle school and i was like oh shit and i had a crush on her until the end of middle school true story,,, so ashley if you’re out there-) 89. do you like your neighbors? -to the left they’re fine and their dog is nice but idk what happened to the horses so that’s sus but that’s where our cat came from so they can hang guess, behind me they’re fine but their boys are loud, to the right they’re fine, and even further to the right are the dope neighbors and waaaaaaaaaay far to the right is a llama and he’s dope as hell 90. do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? -whenever the fuck i remember to/have the energy 91. have you ever been high? -i dont think so but i wouldnt put it past myself 92. have you ever been drunk? -not that i can remember, no 93. last thing you ate? -sloppy joe from a can 94. favorite lyrics right now -”not gonna waste my life, cause i’ve been fucked up“ 95. summer or winter? -fall. fuck you 96. day or night? -night but i like it when it’s actually night and it doesnt get dark at like 4 fucking pm cause that makes me depressed 97. dark, milk, or white chocolate? -dark is good, milk is fine, white is only suitable for fancy stripes on chocolate covered strawberries 98. favorite month? -i vibe with september 99. what is your zodiac sign -sagittarius (was almost a scorpio but i was holding out >:))) 100. who was the last person you cried in front of? -in person, my mom like 6 months ago, on a discord call, my friend (i love you by the way, you’re the best,,, i dont think he has tumblr but im just putting it out there) like a month or so ago. i hate crying in front of people, i turn into such a hyperventilating snot monster which is not suitable for human gaze and thats the real tea :/

felix this took like 2 hours of my life i will never get back i hate you and i hope you’re happy with what you’ve done <3 <3

also anyone who wants to stalk me, enjoy this information that im handing to you on a silver platter :)) <3

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spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Tag List: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker@starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated@c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses@darkobsidianquill @starkerhowlter

Warnings: bondage, light (but explicit) BDSM, smut.

Also, this chapter is hella long lmao its like 6K.

He’s looking in the mirror, admiring the shoes. He’d already sent a few pictures to Tony since he’d responded well to it the last time and they look cute with the black skinny jeans he happens to be wearing too. He hadn’t anticipated that, which is dumb because he knows black goes with everything and he’s seen Liz wear skinny jeans and heels but still. He turns a little, shifting the angle of the shoes in the mirror and smiling when someone walks into his room and he lets out a surprised squeak, turning too fast considering he’s not used to the shoes and he slips, falling on his ass.

Liz frowns at him for a moment, noticing the shoes right away. “If you want to wear those you need to learn how to walk in them and as much as I love MJ and Ned they are not qualified to teach you. I don’t think Ned is aware that things that aren’t fandom shirts even exist and MJ dresses like a homeless hobgoblin so I’m all you’ve got,” she says, arms crossed over her chest.

Peter picks himself up, which takes work in heels but he manages mostly. “I think I can manage on my own,” he says.

“Uh huh. Do you know how to walk down stairs in those?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He frowns, “just like… go down the stairs?”

“Mmhm, see how well that works for you,” she tells him, gesturing out the door to his room. He sighs because now he has to prove her wrong so he walks with pretty good success to the stairs and goes down a few, clinging to the railing as he goes. Liz watches him judgmentally and he gives her a look.

“What? Am I doing it wrong?” he asks. How does someone even go down stairs wrong, heels or no?

“Yeah, you are. Give me a second,” she tells him, disappearing into her room for a moment before she reappears with a pair of heels on and walks down a couple stairs. “Go down them at a forty five degree angle, makes your life a whole lot easier,” she says.

He gives it a try and he frowns when it helps. “That’s so dumb why are they like that?” he asks, giving the shoes an annoyed look.

“No clue, some shoe expert probably figured it out but that’s how to do it the easiest. And you need to learn how to walk in those things, watching you makes me sad. Come here,” she says, walking back up the stairs easy. It takes Peter longer, unused to balancing the way he has to in these shoes. “What’s with the sudden interest anyway?” she asks and Peter shrugs.

“They’re cute.”

“And you decided this… yesterday?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

No, he decided that a long time ago. “Okay, this is going to sound really stupid but like… it didn’t occur to me that I could like… wear heels.”

Liz squints, “yeah, that is really stupid. You don’t even have the big man feet problem, you have baby feet,” she tells him and he wrinkles his nose at her.

“I don’t have baby feet, me feet are normal!”

“You have baby feet, Peter, accept it. So you decided out of nowhere you can wear heels, any other new discoveries? Because if you’ve suddenly decided you like women’s clothing in general I’m banning you from my closet,” she tells him.

He figures he’ll keep the skirt thing to himself, its not like she’d notice anyway. “Why not like… double your wardrobe?” he says. “We’re the same size.”

For a moment Liz frowns, “I didn’t consider that, and since MJ dresses you know… like that I’ve been stuck with one wardrobe this whole time. You have any other galaxy brain takes in there?” she asks. “And I’m borrowing those skinny jeans you’re wearing later.”

He looks down at them, eyebrows drawing together. “Liz, you have like twelve pairs of black skinny jeans why would you need mine?”

“Yours have pockets, strip them off Parker,” Liz tells him.

“Teach me how to walk in these things first and then I’ll consider it,” he tells her. Liz throws a pillow at him and he squeaks, smacking at it to deflect it, sending it flying into a wall while he loses his balance and falls on his ass. Liz walks over, looking down at him from her vantage point, “you’re at my mercy now, Peter,” she tells him.

He sighs, “fine, you can have my pants when we’re done with the heels lesson, I don’t feel like taking them off right now,” he mumbles.

Peter is trying and failing to not want to die in Beck’s class when finally, mercifully, his phone goes off. Its a text and he kind of feels bad for answering it but also if he has to concentrate on Beck for one more minute he might die. MJ gives him a look and she can stop that, she doesn’t even need this class. He does, which is probably why she’s looking at him like that, but still. He’ll pass, if only barely and that’s total crap because Beck only marks him down because of a personal vendetta against Peter over something he doesn’t know he did but still. A pass is a pass.

The text is from Tony, which is probably better than the alternatives. If it was Ned he’d definitely have to look at some horrible meme that he never wanted to see, same if it was MJ especially because she’s sitting right beside him, and if it was Liz there’d probably be a house emergency. She’s weird and prefers phone calls because apparently she grew up in the wrong generation.

Get something pretty and red.

He shakes his head, Tony and his damn obsession with red.

Any specific requests?

Might as well gather what it is Tony is looking for before he gets stuck shopping. Tony gives him a mostly non committal response so he huffs out a sigh, figuring he’ll get something similar to Liz’s skirt seems how he knows Tony liked that. And he liked the skirt too, might as well build something of a work wardrobe. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but he shrugs a little, unsure how he’s supposed to like… explain any of this.

He’s perched on Tony’s couch trying to figure out what the fuck was up with Ned’s computer when he typed all this stuff when Tony walks in. Peter looks over his shoulder and he can tell right away that Tony isn’t in a good mood. He looks more disheveled than normal and he’s frowning like its his job so Peter reaches out to him. “Come here,” he says, smiling when Tony walks over. “You look like you had a rough day,” he says, shifting in his spot so he can set his computer aside and pull Tony in for a kiss. Its a risk, he has no idea if he’ll react well but he figures Tony can pull away if he’s not interested. He doesn’t though, he leans into it and kisses Peter softly back.

“I’ve had a fucking terrible day,” he murmurs. “That’s a pretty skirt,” he adds, looking down at Peter.

“You said red. The boots don’t quite match but I still think they look okay,” he says. He doesn’t mention the little surprise under the skirt, figures if they get to that they’ll get to it. Its a surprise for a reason.

Tony leans in and kisses him again, fingers curling around his jaw, “those boots are pretty attractive too. You’re good at this.”

“I have friends that have an interest in fashion,” he says like he’s never paid attention to fashion in his life. Which, to be fair, he has but not in a meaningful way. Nice men’s stuff is either ridiculously expensive or too nice to wear out to like… normal places so he tends to wear a lot of jeans and graphic T’s. It works for him, even if he thinks women have prettier fashion. But it does come with the downside of being a lot flimsier and no pockets, he’s heard Liz and MJ complain enough to know not to take advantage of his pocket space.

Tony grins, “and you’ve never considered women’s fashion yourself? Because your ability to pick things out suggests you’ve done more than pay attention.”

“I pay attention to things sometimes,” Peter says, pouting a little.

It earns a small laugh out of Tony anyway. “Okay then, keep your secrets. And follow me, I have real plans for tonight,” he says and Peter all but jumps up.

“Really?” he asks, not meaning to sound as excited as he is.

Tony nods and holds out his hand, “really.” Peter takes it and lets Tony lead him to the bedroom he’d gone to the first time he came here. “Remember what I taught you about the stop light system?” Tony asks and Peter nods.

“Green is go, yellow is slow down, red is stop,” he says, knowing from their small training session that Tony will have him repeat it to be sure.

He nods, “good. Now this wasn’t planned in advance, so don’t feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to. Sure, you’re getting paid for this but everyone has the right to refuse work if you’re going from that angle, and from a basic not being a piece of shit angle I don’t want to do anything to you that you’re uncomfortable with. Okay?” he asks.

Peter sits on the edge of the bed and leans back on his palms. “Is it sad that I feel like I have more right to refuse work here than I did when I worked at McDonalds? Because that job sucked and people threw things at me.”

Tony frowns, maybe thrown off by the subject change or the fact that he used to work at McDonalds. “People… actually thought that their McDonalds order was so high stakes they threw shit at you?”

“Yup. I’ve had muffins, cookies, nuggets, coffee, and on one memorable occasion a bird thrown at me. That job taught me that any asshole who thinks McDonalds workers shouldn’t get fifteen dollars an hour for ‘burger flipping’ or whatever has a- never dealt with the general public and b- is probably the type of person to flip shit over a muffin and have a twenty minute long full blown meltdown. Seriously, three year olds have nothing on middle aged white women looking for a coffee. They’re the worst.” Which makes him sad because he knows middle aged white women who don’t suck, his aunt is the best, but after McDonalds he now secretly wonders which ones are the type to scream at teenagers over things that don’t, in the grand scheme of it, matter.

For his part Tony looks completely baffled. “A bird?” he asks and Peter sighs.

“Okay, Bird Man gets a pass because he was homeless, and he definitely had some mental health problems so when he grabbed that pigeon and just like… yote it at me I figured he was already having a worse day than me. But the next hour trying to catch the bird and get it out of the store wasn’t fun.” It ended up being him that finally caught the scared pigeon and he had to go throw it back outside. His boss at least wasn’t a total dildo that day and let him go home early on account of he was distraught but still. The job was the worst.

Tony shakes his head, “should have got a job at SI. You’d get benefits and an actual wage,” he says and Peter frowns.

“Like actually or do you not know the cost of stuff because rich people don’t know the cost of anything,” he says.

“We don’t,” Tony agrees, “which makes taking financial advice from us absolutely stupid but yes, SI employees get that fifteen an hour you mentioned earlier.”

Peter is sure he’s making some kind of face because Tony laughs, “what the hell? I worked at McDonalds for two years when I could have like… sold computers? Ugh.”

“You probably don’t get birds thrown at you often, at least. There was that one time the poop man attacked Toronto though and an SI store got hit. Shockingly all of the employees didn’t quit immediately because I would have.”

Now he knows how Tony felt when he mentioned the bird. “The… the what attacked Toronto?”

Tony shakes his head, “its normal for them and we live in New York, we don’t get to judge. You had a bird thrown at you, like an entire pigeon. Cities are weird- too many people in one spot and you get a bunch of squirrely ones i the mix.”

“Well, I’d rather a whole pigeon than a piece of one, in Bird Man’s defense,” he says and Tony wrinkles his nose.

“That’s a point.”

Peter lets out a soft huff, “so now that we’ve established that Toronto has poop men running around apparently and pigeons get thrown at underpaid minimum wage employees are you going to tell me what you’ve got planned?” he asks, grinning.

Tony smiles down at him, “you ever been tied up before?” he asks.

He shakes his head, “tried handcuffs once and they kind of sucked.” They look deceptively tame but they kind of hurt if they’re too tight or if you move around too much.

“Yeah, its weird that they’re considered next to vanilla considering restraint cuffs might look more intense but they’re a hell of a lot more comfortable. I don’t like cuffs though, never got the aesthetic of them and I’ve been arrested too many times to think they’re any fun. I was going to use rope- red to match your outfit,” he says.

Peter raises an eyebrow, “they make red rope? What hardware store are you going to?” Do rich people have special hardware stores where they can get rope in cool colors? Is there like… a Whole Foods equivalent to Home Depot?

“I didn’t go to a hardware store, baby. Is that where you think people get this stuff? No, I go to a specialty store that makes kink gear. The rope is silk.”

“Oh. I guess that makes a lot more sense than what I was thinking,” he says. “Silk is probably more comfortable than the scratchy stuff you’d get at a hardware store anyway.”

“It is. Here,” Tony says, turning and leaving the room for a few moments before he comes back with a bundle of dark red rope that he throws to Peter.

Well, yeah, its immediately way more soft than what he’d imagined. “Well now I feel dumb,” he says because this should have been like… common sense.

Tony shakes his head, “its fine, I made the same mistake when I was younger too and I’ve been reliably informed that I’m pretty smart,” he says like that’s not the understatement of the year. It does make him feel better though.

“Okay. So what are we doing with this? Aside from like, the obvious,” he says, wrinkling his nose at how dumb his question sounded.

“Restraining your arms- most of it is complicated knot work. It… eases my mind, I guess, is a good way to put it.”

Peter considers it for a moment and shrugs, “okay. Do you want me to take anything off?” he asks. He’s wearing a long sleeved black sweater that might be designed to look nice rather than keep him warm but its really cute with the skirt. And just a little baggy to make up for the fact that he’s got nothing going on up top.

Tony shakes his head, “no, the rope will look nice over the- did you get your nails done?” he asks, spotting them a little late.

“Um. No. Well, kind of. My roommate decided since I liked heels she now has free reign to do my nails because she likes doing it and our other roommates won’t let her practice on them. The red is kind of a coincidence, she likes red too.” The gold was her experimenting and Peter has to admit they came out really nice. Liz said its easier to do his nails than hers and he figures that makes sense.

He doesn’t really anticipate Tony walking over and picking up one of his hands, thumb moving over his nails but its kind of sweet, the way he does it. “They look nice,” Tony murmurs. “So, you ready?” he asks.

Peter perks up a little, unsure where his excitement is even coming from not, he supposes, that he’s about to question it. With a job that pays this well its best if he enjoys it. “Yeah, where do you want me?” he asks.

Tony smiles down at him, eyes crinkled a little at the corners and its a good look on him. “Middle of the bed, make yourself comfortable.”

This isn’t exactly Tony’s first time doing something like this but it is the first time he’s dealt with someone with such… natural submissive leanings. He’s heard plenty of stories but most of them seem either too good to be true, definitively made up, or weirdly misogynistic given that its never men who have a natural gift of submission. He suspects there’s still an element of truth to that but he’ll admit he might have been too quick to judge the stories as blatantly untrue all things considered.

Peter is spread out under him on his stomach, Tony perched on his thighs and Peter has already put his arms behind him, wrists crossed at his butt. He hadn’t needed the instruction at all, just went ahead and positioned himself exactly the way Tony was going to. It would be easy to write it off as a logical position to take but in Tony’s experience even subs who do this often need a little guidance. No one is a mind reader and sometimes they’ll wait for instructions on what to do. Peter, apparently, just happens to be good at doing everything he wants right away.

He places his hand in the middle of Peter’s back, just above where his skirt is sitting and he looks good like this, spread out underneath Tony with his hand on his back. His soft brown curls are brushes away from his face and his eyes are a little hooded, like he’s lost on the idea of being tied up alone. Tony does his best to keep his mouth from watering over the thought of it. He goes to sit back, grab the rope when Peter wiggles a little and Tony raises an eyebrow. “You okay down there?” he asks. Peter’s cheeks turn a little red and Tony sighs, “use your words, baby,” he tells Peter.

It results in another slightly uncomfortable wiggle but Peter speaks before Tony can react. “You can like… use your tie as a gag, right?” he asks, voice low like he’s having a hard time voicing his thoughts. Maybe he is, its not like he’s well versed in this and maybe to him there’s a level of embarrassment. Tony finds it common not that he ever dealt with it. Confusion better fit where he sat when he first got into this stuff. He likes the control, but he has no desire to control anyone in the way he’s experienced it. Made him wonder if his desire for control in this kind of situation was some sort of slippery slope that would lead to him being like Howard. So far it hasn’t happened yet so he figures he’s safe.

“I could, yeah. Is that something you want?” he asks, trying to suss out Peter’s feelings.

His cheeks turn more red, “obviously, or I wouldn’t have asked,” he says, nose wrinkling just a little.

He could have assumed that’s what he wants, but Tony doesn’t tell him that. “Relax baby, of all the things I’ve had people ask of me in situations like this that’s probably one of the tamest options. Give me a minute.” He drags himself off of Peter and then off the bed, feeling the weight of Peter’s eyes on him as he goes.

“What’s the weirdest, then?” he asks.

Never fails to be the next question out of every subs mouth if he says something like that. “You know what sounding is?” he asks, turning to catch a glimpse of Peter shaking his head. “A rod down your pee hole,” he says, laughing as Peter breaks position just to sit up and give him a what the fuck look.

“Why?” he asks, looking horrified.

“Lay back down,” Tony tells him and Peter huffs, returning to his previous position while Tony snatches his tie off the ground. “And I’ve been reliably informed that it feels like a blowjob on the inside, but not my thing.”

Peter doesn’t look like he believes him whatsoever and Tony can’t say he blames him for that. “That’s like… not cool at all,” Peter mumbles while Tony climbs back onto the bed.

“Different strokes for different folks and apparently its painless, not that I’ve ever tried it on account of no thanks.” Not that he should judge, he’s tried some weird things that he’s also discovered are not his thing but still. There’s always a thing or two that will freak a person out and that happens to be one of his, that and any kind of bathroom stuff he does not get the appeal but hey, he’s sure plenty of people don’t get shibari either. Its not like there’s a sexual element for it in the bondage itself either, even if he likes the look of it when its finished. But the act itself has more to do with aesthetics and concentration than sex.

Gags though, that’s more of a sexual thing for him and he’s looking forward to seeing Peter wear one. Especially since he chose to go with his tie. Its an intimate choice, one of Tony’s preferred though it has the downside of leaving the dry cleaning people to clean slobbery ties. He makes a knot in the middle though, turning it into a makeshift cleave gag before setting it aside. Peter gives him a quizzical look and Tony settles a hand in the middle of his back again. “I’m going to tie your hands and see if you can still snap so you can give me some indication that you want out of the ropes,” he says.

A small frown appears on Peter’s features as he considers that. “Huh. I didn’t even think of that,” he says.

“I know baby, but I’ve been doing this long enough to not over look basic stuff like that. Not that I would have expected you to come up with something anyway, that’s more my job.” He’s the one who has to pay attention to Peter’s safety and he’s the one with more experience- its Peter’s job to let him know he’s uncomfortable and that’s mostly it aside from not being outright stupid but Tony told him ahead of time not to be stupid enough to tie himself to a bed with knots that get tighter every time you struggle. Peter had immediately wrote the idea off but Tony has heard of people doing that so its not like it hasn’t been done.

He grabs the rope and eyeballs the length he’ll need to restrain Peter’s wrists the way he wants to before setting to work. Its not difficult, at least not now, to get the knot right and pull it as tight as he wants it. “Snap your fingers,” Tony tells him. Peter does so without difficulty and he nods. “Good. If you’re in any kind of trouble, snap your fingers,” he tells him.

“What if I like… have to pee,” Peter says.

Tony snorts at the practicality of the question. “Then snap your fingers, I’ll take the gag off, and then you can pee. This is not complicated,” he says, grinning down at him.

“I’m just saying, that’s hardly trouble,” Peter tells him, nose wrinkled.

“Don’t be a brat,” Tony says, “and open your mouth.” He does, without complaint and isn’t that just fucking precious. He misses this, someone who’s so pliant and willing to do what he wants when he wants. Within reason, obviously. He sticks the knot in Peter’s mouth and ties it behind his head. “You good?” he asks. He already knows the answer from the look on Peter’s face but the nod is good confirmation. “Good,” he murmurs, settling a hand on Peter’s back again. “I’m going to tie your arms up to about here, okay?” he asks, touching the spot just above Peter’s elbow. Peter gives him a soft mood of affirmation and Tony nods before he starts to work.

Its quick work, but its methodical- requires a level of talent with the rope to make it do what he wants. He can do fancier work than what he’s doing now but his goal is only partly aesthetically driven. He wants to see Peter look nice, but he also likes the busywork of it, the way it can distract his brain a little as he winds down for the day. His job is stressful, mostly because he makes a point to be more involved with his company than a lot of other CEO’s he knows probably because he’s a bit of a control freak. He hasn’t taken a vacation in over two years and he probably needs one all things considered but he has this and this helps. Especially when Peter looks like that, yes half lidded as he makes small noises of contentment while Tony ties the knots.

The red rope stands out against the black of Peter’s sweater, bright against it and conveniently a perfect match to his skirt. He’d wonder, if not for the obvious honesty, if Peter had dabbled in women’s clothing before given his ability to match things and gauge his size right. Its been a long time since someone so immediately good at this, someone so obviously compatible with his wants, has come into his life and he’s fully prepared to milk it for all its worth. He likes the time he gets with his subs, the way the dynamic works between them as they give and take what they need for each other. He likes Peter specifically.

“You look so pretty for me like this,” he murmurs to Peter as he loops the last bit of rope around his upper arms. Peter makes a small hum of affirmation and Tony smiles down at him, “you handled this better than I thought you would,” he murmurs. Peter raises an eyebrow at him looking almost offended. “Relax, I thought you’d do fine. Didn’t anticipate you liking it as much as you did. Maybe next time I’ll tie up your legs too, have you sit pretty for me for awhile,” he murmurs. Peter lets out a soft whine, hips tilting into the bed and Tony raises an eyebrow. “Are you getting off on this?” he asks. He gets an irritated huff out of Peter, like he’s annoyed to have been found out but its useful information actually. “Don’t be shy now, baby, its not like I mind. Makes taking care of you easier if I know what you like,” he points out.

After a quiet, tense moment Peter finally nods and hmm. “I’m going to sit you up on your knees, okay?” Peter nods and Tony moves off the back of his legs so Peter can shift, tucking his legs underneath himself with some minor difficulty. Tony places a hand on his shoulder and grips the knots tying Peter’s arms together and pulls him up, earning a soft gasp out of Peter when he pulls on the rope. His hands clench a little and so does his jaw as Tony shifts him into a more comfortable position. He reaches up and unties his tie, pulling it from Peter’s mouth and earning a dirty look for it.

“Put that back!” he says, almost offended about it.

Tony grins as he sets it aside, “I will in a minute, gorgeous, but I’d like to explore this apparently newfound love of bondage first,” he murmurs as he settles a hand on Peter’s thigh. Peter leans back into him, fully relaxed and that’s curious but not in a bad way. “You sure this is the first time you’ve done this?” he asks.

“Pretty sure I’d have known if I got into this before. Probably would have, if I knew how much I liked it,” he murmurs.

He nods, “and there’s another thing. What do you like about this, hmm?”

Peter gives him another dirty look but its a fair question. When he raises an eyebrow Peter gets the point that he’s supposed to respond. He gives Peter a moment while he shifts a little uncomfortably, perhaps uncomfortable with someone telling him to verbalize his desire. He’s been there, he gets it, but he needs to know what Peter likes so he can better tailor their scenes to both of their tastes. “I like the restriction,” he says eventually. “And I like the lack of control.”

That’s interesting, liking the lack of control given that Peter seemed to have been a little put off by that when they went over the stuff Tony liked. But sometimes people feel differently when they try something than when they read about it. “Flesh that out for me, the lack of control you like. What is it exactly that you like about it?”

“Kind of what’s on the tin,” Peter tells him and Tony pulls the ropes attached to his arms back a little, jostling him. Peter lets out a sharp gasp, biting his lip as his breathing picks up. Well, there’s a reaction.

“Don’t give me attitude, Peter,” he murmurs.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles back and Tony raises an eyebrow. It takes a second for Peter to pick up what he’s trying to convey but he gets it after a moment and lets out a huff, “sorry, Mr. Stark.”

He decides to let the bit of attitude in that go because he’s always loved that, being called Mr. Stark in bed. No idea why, it should probably remind him of work the way ‘sir’ does, which is why he doesn’t use the popular honorific in scenes, but for whatever reason he can make the separation between work and something else with that particular title. “Good,” Tony murmurs, giving the underside of Peter’s jaw a kiss. “Now lets try that again. What is it about the lack of control that you like?”

Peter sits there for a moment, frowning. “I… don’t get what you’re asking, where’s the nuance in that that you see?” he’s asks.

Tony gives him another soft kiss, “thank you for asking. The headphones you wore when we first met, they’re a loss of control too but you didn’t like not being able to hear. What about this is different to you?”

That at least seems to help Peter out in regards to what he’s looking for. “I didn’t mind not being able to hear, it was just that I was stuck in total silence. It felt cold, isolated. This is like… the opposite of that. I like feeling restricted, like feeling the way you tie the knots. I like…” Peter trails off for a moment and Tony gives him time. “I like that I have no control, that you could do whatever you want to me.”

“Do you want that? Me to do whatever I want to you?” he asks. That had been something he seemed disinterested in too when they’d talked things over but Peter nods.

“Yes,” he breathes out softly, head tipped back a little as his eyes shut like imagining it is enough to get him going.

He presses a soft kiss to Peter’s jaw, “something to keep in mind for next time,” he murmurs.

“You can do it now, if you want,” Peter says, looking over his shoulder and fuck he looks gorgeous like that, half wrecked and Tony hasn’t even done much yet.

“Not right now baby, I want to ease you into this.” Peter pouts at him about it and Tony is sure he has no fucking clue what sub frenzy is so he’ll send him information on it later. For the moment he thinks he can swing Peter’s desire in his favor anyway. “You want me to put that gag back on?” he asks and Peter nods almost frantically.

“Yes,” he breathes out, squirming a little with desire and Tony smiles as he grabs the tie. He slips the knot back into Peter’s mouth and reties it behind his head before settling his hands on Peter’s thighs. He presses back into Tony, trying his best to look at him over his shoulder and only partially succeeding given that Tony is almost right behind him.

“So you like being tied up, hmm?” he murmurs as he moves his hands slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter lets out a small whine and nods. “How about next time I tie your hands to your ankles wearing those pretty little boots of yours?” Peter’s head tips back and moans and Tony has to admit his reaction is probably almost as attractive as the real thing even if he won’t be sure of that until he sees it. “I’ll tie your legs too, just like this,” he says, fingers trailing softly up his folded legs, “make you sit there and beg for it until I think you’ve earned it.”

He doesn’t totally expect Peter to react but he’s more than happy when Peter’s eyes roll back and he lets out another moan though the tie. Begging seemed to be more his thing than Peter’s but he’s happy to trade off tying him up if it’ll get him what he wants. Shit, there’s a lot of things he’d trade off to see Peter like this. “Then,” he murmurs in Peter’s ear, “I’ll bend you over.” He tips Peter forward, hand on his neck as he presses him into the mattress and fuck the loud, extended moan Peter lets out is hot. “And touch you,” he says as he trails his fingers up the back of Peter’s thighs, toying with the edge of his skirt. Peter’s breathing has picked up and he shifts a little under Tony’s hand, making small noises of pleasure as his hand slips under his skirt.

He doesn’t anticipate the panties Peter is wearing under it and he moans, pressing his forehead to Peter’s back as he leans into his further. “God, you are so fucking perfect,” he tells Peter, “always managing to do some other little thing for me, hmm?” Peter lets out a small laugh, trying his best to wiggle his ass a little. “How do you feel about me teasing you like this, hmm? Seeing how far I can take you,” he murmurs as he cups Peter through the satin. He makes a high keening noise as he shifts his hips into Tony’s hand. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Could probably tease you for hours, bring you to the edge and back again until you’re so damn hungry for it you can’t even beg anymore.” Peter takes in a sharp inhale of breath and shifts his hips into Tony’s hand again. He massages Peter gently, feeling him through the soft material and smiling when Peter’s eyes flutter shut again.

“Next time I’ll use a proper gag, see what your pretty lips look like stretched over a ball gag for me. Wanna hear the way you sound when I fuck into you soft and slow, forced to move at my pace,” he murmurs. Peter whines, hips tilting into his hand as he tries desperately to draw in enough breath through his nose. “Bet you I could get you to cum like this, barely even touching you.” Peter nods frantically, whining again as he shivers. Tony smiles, “I’ll let you this one time, but after this you cum whenever the hell I tell you to, got that?” he asks and Peter lets out a loud moan, face curling into the mattress as he spills over those pretty panties of his, eyes rolling back in his head. “Good,” Tony murmurs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Glad to see we understand each other.”

Peter is on cloud fucking nine and he didn’t even expect to like any of that except now he wants to do like all of it yesterday. Tony sent him more reading material but he’s neglected it in favor os savoring the feeling of Tony’s hand on the back of his neck pressing him into the mattress and fuck it’s going to be a long time before he can think of anything else jerking off. He’s excited for the next time Tony calls him over and he’s going to complain if Tony doesn’t do what he promised because he has needs, okay, and its cruel to neglect them. That’s like… workplace negligence or some shit, he’ll look it up later.

He’s so absorbed in his thoughts that the poke to his side results in him letting out a sharp yelp and tossing the plate he forgot was in his hand across the room. Liz, MJ, and Ned snort and start laughing. “Oh my god, its like those cat versus cucumber videos and Peter’s the cat!” Ned says, clutching his stomach as he laughs. He looks down and sure shit Liz is holding a fucking cucumber.

“Can you guys like… not?” he asks, hand on his hip.

“You’re cleaning that up,” MJ tells him, gesturing to his dinner, which is now on the floor. He sighs because that’s only fair but still, its rude to scare a guy when he’s daydreaming about hot men holding him down and fucking him silly. He feels he should be left in peace with his thoughts.

“This is like… treason and I’m calling the president,” Peter tells them.

Liz rolls her eyes, “jokes on you, the president hates gays so we’re all going to jail.”

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

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simping-on-the-daily · 4 years

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It would be unfair to do just Chelsea for these. ;p Here’s Aisha!

Credit to @luxet for her questions!

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? “SoundCloud. I just have a more easier time with it.” is your room messy or clean? “My bedroom is clean, as well as my room located in the corner of Thomas’ mind.” what color are your eyes? “I have blue eyes with slit pupils.” do you like your name? why? “I think Aisha is a suitable name.” what is your relationship status? “Taken.” describe your personality in 3 words or less “Analytical, Sharp, Rational.” what color hair do you have? “My hair’s an indigo leaning towards purple.” what kind of car do you drive? color? “I don’t drive, but a blue Sedan would be nice.” where do you shop? “You can’t really shop in the Mind Palace, but I like the bookstores.” how would you describe your style? “Smart Casual.” favorite social media account “Reddit and Wattpad both have....interesting things, but they are still my favorites.” what size bed do you have? “I have a Full XL.” any siblings? “I do not have any siblings.” if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? “I think I live in the best place already.” favorite snapchat filter? “The face swap filter is both a blessing and a curse.” favorite makeup brand(s) “L’Oréal.” how many times a week do you shower? “One in the morning and one before I go to bed.” favorite tv show? “I have a guilty pleasure of Netflix original shows.” shoe size? “My foot size is around the 10s, I think.” how tall are you? “6′0.” sandals or sneakers? “Sneakers don’t make an annoying slapping sound when they hit the ground, so them.” do you go to the gym? “No, I do not.” describe your dream date “Some people think that stargazing is my dream date, but Logan just got me into that. I truthfully prefer cafes, but as long as we are content doing the activity together, that’s the only thing that matters.” how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? “Right now, I have $80.” what color socks are you wearing? “I’m wearing white socks at the moment. Weird question.” how many pillows do you sleep with? “One.” do you have a job? what do you do? “No, I do not.” how many friends do you have? “All of the Sides are understandably good friends of mine.” whats the worst thing you have ever done? “I’d prefer to talk about the situation when I’m ready.” whats your favorite candle scent? “I don’t like candle scents.” 3 favorite boy names “I have an interest in Gabriel, Noah and Charles.” 3 favorite girl names “Minerva, Athena and Anne are some of my favorite's.” favorite actor? “I hate to be biased, but Thomas Sanders does a great job at acting.” favorite actress? “Jennifer Lawrence’s work is truly admirable.” who is your celebrity crush? “Mark Ruffalo may be known for giving out spoilers, but he does terrific performances.” favorite movie? “Same answer as below.” do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? “..........Why are you making me choose?” money or brains? “Brains.” do you have a nickname? what is it? “Who doesn’t have a nickname, honestly? Roman has plenty of them for me.” how many times have you been to the hospital? “None. We all have a sort of healing factor, and I am responsible enough to avoid any accidents.” top 10 favorite songs “I believe some of them were also mentioned in one of my bios.” do you take any medications daily? “No, I do not.” what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) “I have a normal skin type.” what is your biggest fear? “Needles.” how many kids do you want? “Can we even have children?” whats your go to hair style? “My hair always stays the same: some messy and unbrushed indigo hair leaning into the colour purple. The courtroom scenario was one of the few occasions my hair became more neater.” what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) “Currently, we’re in a beach house. It was Chelsea’s idea, as we create new houses. The Mind Palace is endless.” who is your role model? “I must give teachers their credit for being able to put up with their student’s rowdy behavior.” what was the last compliment you received? “You must hear really well with those pointy ears. Not sure if it’s a compliment or an insult.” what was the last text you sent? “I sent Logan a link to a site explaining the definition of some modern slang.” how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? “It was around my fourth.” what is your dream car? “A Sedan is good enough for me.” opinion on smoking? “My opinion on this? You’re not alone. I can’t stop you from smoking, but please make sure that it’s out of personal interest and not a form of endangering yourself.” do you go to college? “If Thomas went to college, then yes, I technically did. If he didn’t, then I didn’t.” what is your dream job? “I don’t really need a job.” would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? “The suburbs are much more safer.” do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? “No. I have no benefit in taking hotel property.” do you have freckles? “No, I do not freckles. However, Logan does. He just covers them up.” do you smile for pictures? “It depends on the picture we’re talking about.” how many pictures do you have on your phone? “We don’t have a storage limit, and right now I have around 400 in my gallery.” have you ever peed in the woods? “You’re assuming that I go in the woods.” do you still watch cartoons? “Cartoons are still shows, regardless of the artistic style. Yes, I do.” do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? “Wendy’s.” Favorite dipping sauce? “My favourite is Honey Mustard.” what do you wear to bed? “I wear a lot of dressing gowns.” have you ever won a spelling bee? “When your opponent is Patton, you’re bound to be victorious.” what are your hobbies? “I believe they’re listed in a bio already posted.” can you draw? “Yes, but I’m better art digital art then traditional.” do you play an instrument? “Nope. But since it doesn’t impact my daily life, it doesn’t bother me.” what was the last concert you saw? “It depends on the last concert Thomas went to.” tea or coffee? “Tea. It’s much more relaxing and is less bitter then coffee.” Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? “Starbucks has a lot more variety in their food choices.” do you want to get married? “I’m not a fan of weddings. It reinforces the fact that you need a giant celebration to prove your love instead of acts of trust and loyalty. Maybe that’s why I chose the callback instead.....” what is your crush’s first and last initial? “L.S. Logan Sanders.” are you going to change your last name when you get married? “Perhaps.” what color looks best on you? “Indigo and black are my more iconic colours, but I do appreciate some purple in my attire once in a while.” do you miss anyone right now? “Not as this particular time, no.” do you sleep with your door open or closed? “The door is closed, but not locked.” do you believe in ghosts? “In the Mind Palace, anything can happen. Ghosts are childsplay compared to the other supernatural creatures in here.” what is your biggest pet peeve? ”Clicking pens, unnecessarily revving your engines, waking you up in the middle of the night and then saying ‘oh did I wake you up?’ as well as bashing a book or film when you haven’t seen it.” last person you called ”I had to call Remus. I can’t remember the details, but it involved something with pencil cases.” favorite ice cream flavor? “Buttermilk and black sesame ginger are delicious and underrated.” regular oreos or golden oreos? “I prefer the regular Oreos.” chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? “I don’t enjoy sprinkles a whole lot. I prefer to cover my desserts with chocolate syrup.” what shirt are you wearing? “I’m currently wearing an off the shoulder top, coloured a dark navy blue with star patterns.” what is your phone background? “The night sky. It’s aesthetically pleasing.” are you outgoing or shy? “I would prefer to call myself an ambivert.” do you like it when people play with your hair? “Playing with my hair? That’s fine.” But don’t try to get rid of the knots or try and brush it.” do you like your neighbors? “The Dark Sides live right next to us in their house, and I have a neutral opinion about the lot of them. Remus is okay, though. I’m not a fan of Deceit.” do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? “I wash my face after brushing my teeth.” have you ever been high? “I know that if I answer this question, the readers will probably warp it into some form of suggestive content.” have you ever been drunk? “I’m not sure if we can get drunk? I might have to ask Logan that later.” last thing you ate? “My last meal was some noodles and meatballs.” favorite lyrics right now “The following lyrics are from the song Just The Way You Are by Bruno Mars.” When I see your face There's not a thing that I would change 'Cause you're amazing Just the way you are summer or winter? “Winter. The cold air gives more chances for indoor activities as well as a nice aesthetic.” day or night? “The night is much calmer, so I’ll prefer that.” dark, milk, or white chocolate? “Dark chocolate. I believe that the bitter taste makes it good.” favorite month? “July, I’m not sure why, but I get some happy during the seventh month.” what is your zodiac sign ”While I wasn’t ‘born’, per say, my creation was during the constellation of Capricorn, so I’ll go with that.” who was the last person you cried in front of? “It was a pretty long time ago, but I think it was Deceit. Back when we were kids.”

#sander sides #sanders sides #fander sides #sander sides ocs #sanders sides ocs #fander sides ocs #sander sides aisha #ocs #oc questions #luxet questions

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madsruti · 4 years

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Not that I think someone will read this cause it's too long, but I talk about death so I could be triggering. Also, it's probably badly written because I cried while I was writing it and I don't want to revise it because I will cry again, but I don't really care right now. Anyways...

It's been a while. Much has changed and I feel like shit.

Tina died on July 17. I still can't talk about it and think about her without crying (yes, I'm crying right now). She was exactly 15 years and 6 months old. And she looked so tiny. And she was so cold. She got back to the ICU after my last post and then she never left. She died in my arms when I last visited her. She was sleeping and snoring. And cold. She wasn't able to keep her body temperature anymore. I held her for about five minutes and then it happened. I was alone with her. I have never seen someone die before. And just stupidly thought something along the lines of honey why are you coughing are you thirsty because I am a dumbass. I tried texting my mom (she was at the clinic too) but she wouldn't respond, so I had to leave Tina on the desk and try to get someone. I knew she had died, but I didn't know that it had already happened when she was in my arms. It killed me to think that she could have died on the table. I think I said before how I didn't want her to feel alone and abandoned, I'm glad I was with her when she died. I'm glad she died sleeping and didn't suffer. But I'm also a wreck. I can't not think about it when I remember these last few days. Or how I had to take her convulsing in my arms just a week before that. It was too much. It is too much.

I spent two weeks basically doing nothing after that. I cried a lot. And then her ashes came and I cried more. And now I feel sad and I feel longing every time I look at it (I'm not ready to spread it somewhere yet. I don't even know where it would be). Sometimes it's easy to pretend that she's back at my father's house instead of being with me and my mother. Sometimes I forget for a second and think oh I should make one extra nugget for Tina and then it hits me. I hid her stuff, but I'm not ready to let them go yet too. Just the other day I found one of her blankets inside one of my jacket's pockets from this day we went to visit her at the ICU and thought maybe we could bring her home... And I was crying again. I miss her so much. And I know she had a good life overall (especially these last few years), but I also can't stop thinking about what I should have done more or what I should have done differently, especially when she was a puppy. Even if back then I was also just a child and if my parents said Tina had to leave outside of the house, I couldn't do much. Why the fuck a pinscher had to live outside of the house? It changed after time, but still, my mom wouldn't allow her on the couch until like three years ago. I should have held her more. I should have taken her to more walks. I don't know, I should have done something more. I love her so much it feels like my heart is gonna explode and I don't know how to express myself. I'll never have a pet again. How some people have so many of them? Fuck, I can't. I can't. I feel like I've lost a part of me.

As I did nothing, I had a lot of time to think about life in general and how I wasn't happy with mine. Quarantine is obviously being a bitch. I like spending time alone at home, but not that much. I miss going out to eat with my friends. I miss going to the movies. I miss being alone because now my mom is working from home and she is here all the time (my mother hates being at home and she was always out doing whatever) and my neighbors whose walls we share are also home all the time and it's always so noisy I can't ever be truly alone. I know it's probably bullshit and some people live like this always and not just during a pandemic, but I'm used to being alone. Oh, how I miss those two years I lived by myself.

But besides being mentally fucked, I also have come to accept that I don't want a PhD. I told my parents I was dropping out and my mother freaked. So I got even more mentally fucked. I feel guilty about giving up, I feel guilty because I don't know what the hell I wanna do with my life and I just know that I don't want to be a graphic designer or a professor. And my mom makes me feel worse because she's always but why can't you just finish it it's just three more years and what are you going to do now why don't you do this and you know you gonna have to go back to college right and you probably won't enter a public university (which is free) but we also don't have enough money to support you and just a million things that I already know. She doesn't let me have a minute to think. It's like I'm dropping out on monday morning and in the afternoon I have to be already enrolled in something else. And let me tell you something, I know that I don't want to be a designer since the first semester at college. That's about fucking nine years ago. But I wasn't brave enough to accept it back then and I just sucked it up and finished it and continued to do it until now because it was easier. So no, I won't magically know what to know if I don't know what to do for the past nine years (you could say more, I was already lost in high school). And now I'm feeling sick like two to three times a week.

But the thing is, I want to do something. I really do. I don't want to spend the rest of my days on my mother's house couch browsing tiktok (cause that's what she probably thinks I wanna do). But I don't even know where to begin. So I'm seeing a therapist (although I'm not sure I'll be able to decide what I wanna do with my life with just that, but yeah pretty sure it's clear I've got other problems. Even if I already went to a therapist for I don't know six or seven years before that), I went to a psychiatrist (she said I don't need meds, so maybe I not as bad as I think, but I definitely need to keep going to therapy) and I know I need to find someone who does some kind of career advice thingy. Yeah, I'm pretty lost. I'm also very unproductive, not because I don't have classes to attend anymore but I could be doing something besides watching TV and youtube and tiktok and crying all day. I could be studying french. Dammit, I could be watching all those stuff in french. I could be drawing. I could be playing the guitar. I could be learning the piano since I already chose the one I want to buy but I haven't done it yet. It's so hard to begin to do things again and it hasn't been that long yet. It's just that it's not a vacation, it's hard for my brain to understand that it's ok to focus on my well being now and I don't have to do something that's gonna be work and earn me some money.

Maybe I should read this to my therapist. I'm not sure if I like her yet. Things don't make sense anymore. Time's moving differently. Why can't I just wake up ten years in the future? You know what would be easier? Yes.

Mads

#madsruti #dog #phdblr #death #???

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killervibe · 4 years

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Written in Your Heart

A Killervibe & Frost/Ronnie Princess and the Pauper AU!

Summary: Once upon a time, in a village high on the mountaintop, two identical baby girls were born. One, into royalty and was named Princess Caitlin. The other, to a poor family working under a harsh dressmaker. They named her Frosteline. With lives so different, it wasn’t surprising that the Princess and the Pauper never met. But fate decreed they would.

Chapter One

~.~

Long ago, and far away, in a central village high on a mountaintop, something amazing happened. At the very same moment, two identical baby girls were born. One, a baby Princess. The King and Queen were overjoyed, for they had been longing for a child all their lives. Princess Caitlin would have only the finest. The second baby girl was named Frosteline. Her parents loved her every bit as much as the King and Queen loved Princess Caitlin. But they worried, fighting to make ends meet under the employment of a compassionless dressmaker.

Many years passed and the Princess learned her royal duties, while Frosteline worked long and hard as a seamstress for the spiteful Miss Amunet. Frosteline's parents were long gone, resting in the cemetery under the grass. They had died in the same accident that took the life of King Thomas when Princess Caitlin and Frosteline were only twelve.

With lives so different, it wasn’t surprising that the Princess and the Pauper never met. But fate decreed they would.

It all started at the Royal Mine, when the miners informed the Queen the gold had run out. The widowed Queen was shocked. The Kingdom would now surely go bankrupt. People would starve, find no work and will perish under these conditions. How was she going to take care of them with no more resources? If only she could call on her trusted advisor Hunter Zolomon, but he was away on a long journey to Star Kingdom. She needed to do something quickly to save the kingdom before they’d turn against the monarchy, or worse, each other.

But what?

And then it struck her. Nearby lived a rich young King who was seeking a wife.

~.~

“Damn it,” Frosteline groaned, nursing her bleeding thumb at her hundredth prick of the day. “I just want a day to myself!”

“I hear you, sister,” Ralph, her only friend chimed in from his own stitching across the room. After hours upon hours of labour in the dreary basement of Miss Amunet’s Dress Emporium, it often felt as though Ralph were the only other person on the planet. “You think the woman would hire more help.”

“Hire more help?” Frosteline repeated incredulously. “We’re only here because we’re indentured servants, Ralph. Nobody in their right minds would willingly work here.”

“Yeah, well. Nobody but our dear old dead parents, right?” Ralph stood up, cracking his back from lack of exercise. He walked across the room to inspect Frosteline’s injury. “Let me look at it. You’re bleeding.”

Frosteline waved him off. “I’ll be fine.” She closed her eyes and hummed her mother’s old nursery rhyme as the cut stitched itself back together.

Ralph didn’t like how her eyes glowed when she used her power. He made a noise of consternation, returning to his pile of fabric. “You’re lucky that Miss Amunet hasn’t yet accused you of witchcraft.”

Frosteline froze over the wedding gown she had just crocheted. “Don’t call it that. I told you—I was born like this.”

“It’s where you got your name, right, yes, I heard the story before. I just worry about your safety, Frost. Don’t think I don’t know you do magic shows in the village at noon.”

“I make some snow for extra change. So what? The people like it.”

Footsteps went thundering down the stairs. The two ran back to their workstations.

“It’s not the people I’m scared of,” Ralph muttered under his breath.

“I’m hearing whispers. What is this? A gossip club?”

“I would’ve said a debtor’s prison,” Frosteline replied automatically. Ralph gaped at her from across the room. She too realized her mistake. She tended to talk before she used her brain. It was something she needed to work on.

“Keep laughing, my lovely!” Amunet surveyed their work. She beamed, at the finished gown on Frosteline’s desk, showing all her teeth. “You’ll be working for me for another thirty-seven years!”

“But I already paid off more than half!”

Amunet hummed, undisturbed. “Oh, but haven’t you heard? The kingdom is going into a recession. So I’ve decided to remember....What was it again?" She drummed her fingertips against her face, pretending to ponder, then clapped her hands suddenly. " oh yes! There’s an interest, isn’t there? Your parents should’ve thought of that before they borrowed so much.”

“They did it to feed her!” Ralph snapped. Amunet glared as he shrunk back in his wooden seat.

“Their mistake.” She took the finished wedding gown and stuffed it in a box without so much of another word.

Ralph mimed sticking a finger down his throat. Frosteline’s mouth twisted in disgust. She hated her too.

~.~

Cisco turned the page of his leather-bound book. “That concludes your lesson in chemistry. Not that you needed it.”

The princess gave a reluctant sigh, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. “Already?”

“Afraid so, Your Highness. Any questions?”

All too well he knew Princess Caitlin mastered the subject. Still, the question posed became his favourite part of their scheduled time together, when the role of tutor and student bled into two best friends enjoying each other’s company.

“Yes,” she said, poking at his tunic. “Do you believe it possible to discover more elements that would expand the periodic table?”

”Absolutely!” He nodded enthusiastically. “But not more likely than reaching the heavens, Caitlin.”

The princess scooted her chair closer, leaning into her best friend’s side. Her cat, Bart, scratched his head against her leg. “You mean...” she lowered her voice before glancing aside, wary of her maidservants’ eavesdropping. “Extrapolating from the theories of Galileo and travelling to space?”

Cisco grinned at her. “Precisely.” He laughed at her scandalized gasp. “Calm down, I’m jesting—”

“Cisco! That’s not funny!”

Ah, his heart stuttered in his chest. He’d never tire of hearing his name from her lips. She placed her hand over his arm and urged him to share his latest study.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment, and Caitlin immediately removed her touch, leaning away.

Harrison Wells, or Harry, as the royal family has grown accustomed to calling him, marched in with a long list and adjusted his spectacles. “We’re late! Late, late, late!”

“Good morning Harry,” Caitlin greeted, hiding her dismay. Cisco rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that they disliked him. He was always to the point with his messages, and delivered them rather gruffly, but not unkind. Their annoyance had more to do with the fact every time Harry came to interrupt Caitlin’s lesson with Cisco, it meant the tutor had to go.

“Yes, yes. Good day, Your Highness,” he nodded at Cisco. “Greetings Ramon. Enough with the pleasantries. It is now time for your royal fitting, Princess. The gown just arrived this morning.”

Princess Caitlin’s joy soured immediately, but she did not let her emotions show. “Yes, of course.”

“—It must last twenty, maximum twenty-two minutes, and then you have to rush, and I mean rush to your horticultural society tea. Then—”

Caitlin tuned Harry out as Cisco shot her an apologetic smile.

He packed his books hastily, “I best be on my leave.”

“Oh no, Cisco. Please stay.”

He hesitated, fiddling with the strap of his worn satchel, but could not ever deny the Princess anything. He nodded, watching as two maidservants ushered Caitlin behind the dresser to make alterations for her gown. “Maybe a few minutes more.”

When she stepped out in silks and white tulle, his eyes lingered only on her face.

She turned around on the step stool where the seamstresses fussed over the ribbons and bows when he called her name.

“Yes?”

“You’ll make a lovely bride.” His fingers twisted deep in the leather of the strap across his chest. Caitlin felt tears well up in her eyes, so many complicated words stuck in her throat. She could only manage to nod as Cisco suddenly left.

She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to stay, she thought, as she watched him through her window. He was smelling the roses to record in his field journal in her palace gardens. As if he could sense her, he lifted his eyes from the flower he had to his nose up to her wing of the palace. The corners of his mouth tugged into a gentle smile as his hair blew in the breeze. Cisco waved at Caitlin. Her fingertips pressed against the glass as her heart sighed.

Harry came back with a large box, clearing his throat. Her mother, the Queen, strolled behind. “Look, another engagement gift!”

The Princess didn’t reply. The Queen bit her lip as she caught her daughter watch the tutor make his way out the royal gates and into the village. “You know it is vital you marry King Ronald. It’s the only way to take care of the kingdom.”

Caitlin didn’t reply for some time, drawing strength from within and distanced herself from the window. She shot Harry and her mother a shaky grin and exhaled. “I know, and I will. It’s my duty.”

~.~

In the deep dark caves of the Royal Mine, Hunter Zolomon celebrated his homecoming.

“It’s great to see you back boss,” Eddie Slick told him, wiping the grime off his forehead. “But you’re...early.” His accomplice, Sterling Brooks, popped out of their cart holding up a small black nugget.

Hunter snatched it out of Sterling’s hand. “What idiot put this here!?”

Sterling grinned as Eddie smacked his forehead from second-hand embarrassment. “Uh. Me?”

“We’re stealing gold. This is coal.” He knocked the worthless rock against Sterling’s skull as if in an attempt to knock some wit into it. He turned to Eddie. “Where’s the rest?”

Eddie pointed to a bag in the dirt. “That’s the last of ‘em.” He watched eagerly as his boss inspected the bag of gold. “So, what’s our cut?”

Hunter laughed. “You think you’re getting any of this?”

Eddie frowned. “While you were off frolicking in Star Kingdom, we were here doing all your dirty work. You told us we’d get paid.”

Hunter glared. It was not frolicking. For over ten years Hunter had to play lapdog to the King and Queen as the royal advisor. Forced to do this, demanded to do that. It was hard, tedious work that never went appreciated. Nor should it be. The work given to him was insulting. Hunter Zolomon was not born to serve people or follow orders like cattle. No. Every minute spent under the directives of the Queen made his blood curdle ever since his plan ten years ago went awry and he only managed to kill a third of the Royal Family he needed out of his way to ascend the throne.

“And you will.” He leaned against the cart and rattled it along the tracks, urging Sterling to climb out and pay attention. “When I become King.”

“Right, right,” said Sterling, but he was clearly lost. “And how exactly is that related to us getting all this gold again?”

“Because,” Hunter said through gritted teeth, regretting his hasty choice of picking two desperate miners to do work for him. He’d fire Sterling if he could, but he knew too much now and was simply not worth the effort to kill. “Now I have all the wealth in the kingdom and the Queen will have no choice but to wed her only daughter to me. How could she refuse?”

“Easily! Princess Caitlin treats you so coldly!” Sterling blurted. “She’d never agree to that.”

“Who said the nitwit had any agency to make that decision?” he shot back. “She has to follow her mother’s orders. And who’s her mother’s advisor? Me.”

Eddie and Sterling shared a look.

Hunter narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Eddie looked anywhere but his boss’ steely gaze. “It’s just that….The Queen had decided to marry off Princess Caitlin to the King of Dulcinea.”

In a fit of rage, Hunter knocked the cart over with Sterling in it. “She what?!”

“Yeah…” Eddie said, wringing his hands. “You were gone a long time. She didn’t know what to do.”

“I guess the gig’s up, huh boss?” said Sterling, crawling from the rocks.

“Hardly.” Hunter yanked the bag of gold from Eddie’s arms. He needed to visit the Queen immediately to fix this. “And if you ruin this for me neither of you will be making it out of this mine alive.”

~.~

“Cisco!” Caitlin lit up as her favourite person walked into her bedroom. “Perfect timing." She lifted up her latest discovery from her walk behind the palace kitchens. "I classified this as iron pyrite. Pretty, but not considered valuable. Commonly known as ‘fool’s gold, as you taught me last Spring, isn’t that correct?”

Cisco smiled. “Very good, Your Highness.”

Caitlin frowned, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Your Highness? Why the sudden formality.” He only ever called her that in the presence of other palace workers. She looked around to see if they had company, but they were all alone. “It’s just me.”

“Your mother sent me. Apparently, the Ambassador has arrived with a gift for you.”

Caitlin felt lightheaded. The iron pyrite fell to the floor. “The Ambassador? He’s here already?”

Cisco nodded and went to grab her tiara from the pillow next to her bed. He placed it carefully upon her head, smoothing down the stray curls around it. “There,” he said. “No fool’s gold here.”

“No,” the Princess agreed faintly, distracted by the warmth of her tutor’s brown eyes. He looped her hand around his arm and escorted her to the throne room.

~.~

The Ambassador was a lot younger than the Queen, Harry or The Advisor thought. Tall, dark and handsome, with a dashing smile, he bent low at the waist upon the royals’ arrival and introduced himself with his gift. His travelling companion was an old fellow with crow’s feet and stood several steps away.

“On behalf of King Ronald, I present to you this engagement gift.”

The Queen took it graciously, promising the Princess would love it. She glanced at the grandfather clock mounted by the wall. Surely the tutor would’ve brought the Princess in already.

"Harry," she said. "Didn't I send the tutor to go tell the Princess about the Ambassador?"

"You did, Your Highness," Harry confirmed. He adjusted his spectacles and looked down at his parchments. "I don't see them taking much more time, but the schedule of the Princess is already packed enough, we better not delay."

"No," said the Advisor, agreeing with the Messenger even though he couldn't stand him either. "We better not."

The travelling companion cleared his throat. “May I enquire, your Excellency, if you’ve set a date for the wedding?”

The Queen paused to mull it over. “Will two weeks from today do?”

Hunter nearly fell out of his chair but recovered quickly. “Two weeks! Fast and diligent, what a wonderful decision, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent!” said the companion, sharing a glance with the Ambassador. He nudged his shoulder when the Ambassador didn't say anything. “Excellent, isn't it, Ambassador Stein?”

The Ambassador’s eyes widened as if he had just remembered his position. “I will…uh. I’ll send for King Ronald right away so that he may meet his new bride.” His gaze drifted to the portrait of Caitlin mounted next to the windowpane.

"I apologize for my daughter's absence," The Queen said. "If you stay for tea, I'm sure she'll be here shortly."

The Queen gestured at Harry to escort them to the tea rooms. "Come, Hunter. There's much we have to discuss."

~.~

Like clockwork, Frosteline slipped out the front door at noon. It was when Miss Amunet took her lunch break in the tea shop across the village, which meant she had a whole hour to herself to sneak out. Ralph followed closely behind.

“What Ralph?”

“You forgot your cape,” he said, waving the old blue thing in the doorway. It was the nicest piece of clothing she owned. Probably because she barely ever got to leave the Dress Emporium, so it never had the chance to soil.

“Thank you, mother,” she grumbled under her breath but accepted it as Ralph put it over her shoulders. She snapped her fingers at Iridescence to get her to come, the cat Ralph had found in the street a few months ago. They’ve been hiding her from Miss Amunet for a while.

“Be safe out there,” he called out. “And don’t do that scary voice thing in front of any children!”

Frosteline rolled her eyes.

~.~

“Cisco.” Caitlin's hand tightened on his elbow. “I can’t go in.” Her eyes darted down the long corridor and her heart pounded up in her ears. “I’m not ready,” she panicked. “I can’t go in.”

Cisco was about to reassure the princess that it’ll be alright, but one look at her was all he needed to realize how Caitlin was spiralling.

“Okay,” he soothed, running his hands up and down the sleeves of her gown. “It’s okay, my sweet. You’re here. I’m with you. You’re— shaking?”

“This is all too fast! Five days ago I was being told I’d get married and now the Ambassador is here? Cisco, I can’t—”

”Then we won’t. We won’t go.” Her breath hitched, and he could tell her tight corset could not possibly be helping. Three halls down was the old library with a balcony window. It used to belong to the King. They’d sometimes study there when they needed a peaceful moment alone. Perhaps, she needed some fresh air.

Cisco brought her to the balcony, sitting against the ledge as the Princess paced, pressing her palms over her eyes.

“I do everything!” she wailed. “Everything for my mother and the memory of my father. Everything for Hunter and Harry but this…” she let out a weak huff, sliding her hands into her hair and digging her fingers into the combs of her tiara.

“I know.”

Cisco, I’m scared, she almost said. But somehow she felt he already knew. Instead, she sucked in a deep breath and wiped the stray tear from her flushed cheek. She kicked off her shoes, padding barefoot until she sank to the floor in her pink dress, looking out the balcony. She turned to Cisco, who had been watching her with careful concern.

“What do you think King Ronald will be like?”

It took a while for him to say anything. “I’m sure he’ll be…suitable.”

“I know I have to marry him, but sometimes I wish…Well.” Caitlin clasped her hands together behind her back and sighed.

She thought about her panic in the palace hall. My sweet, he’d called her. Did Cisco really mean that? Caitlin’s heart picked up speed. It wasn’t the first time he’d slipped and given her an affectionate name either. She’d always chalked it up to his joyous personality, or that maybe he considered her as a sister, but what with the way he’d been talking to her lately, she wondered if there was something...more.

Cisco’s brown riding boots swung leisurely as he waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, he continued to awkwardly carry on the conversation. “I heard he’s a lover of flatbread and cheese!”

Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “What’s that?”

“A type of food, I’m sure.” Cisco looked out, following Caitlin’s wistful gaze out at the kids playing in the garden.

Reality settled back into Caitlin’s bones. The little treasure chest in her heart full of her love for Cisco would have to lock away. There was no use, wondering. Cisco’s pay for her tutoring barely covered his own expenses. The Princess had to look out for the entire kingdom.

“I know it’s selfish, but it feels like the beginning of the end of my life,” she admitted in a whisper.

“Caitlin….” Cisco slid down from his seat on the ledge, kneeling in front of her.

“Hmm?”

He offered her his hand. She took it without hesitation.

“You’re going to need your cape.”

#the flash #killervibe #cisco ramon #caitlin snow #killer frost #tkv fic #fluff #princess and the pauper #fairytale #snowstorm #AU #Written in Your Heart #corona fic

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dailydianakko · 4 years

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Wishing On A Star

So this was another vent, kind of dealing with the fact that I can't change other people. If that makes sense. Like you can love, grieve, and lay it to rest, and you'll heal. It won't be instant, but you'll get there. Also on AO3 Here.

“Do you wanna be there to see how I turn out?”

Diana craves the power of the Claiomh Solais, she needs it to fix a mistake.

Diana had grown up on stories of the famous White Witch Shiny Chariot. The fabled Witch’s many feats preformed in front of crowds, written about in books. She had spent years in her childhood collecting the cards, posters, and stories. She had even gotten to see the famous final show of the performer herself. As Diana had gotten older, her attention had turned to what the Witch had wielded. The mythical Shiny Rod, or as the legends had called it, the Claiomh Solais. The fabled words that activated its magic were even more intriguing. Diana had poured hours, weeks, and even years into researching the power. Diana craved that magic power of the White Witch. Of Shiny Chariot. In her later years, she began to hunt for the whereabouts of Chariot in secrecy. The appearance of Akko clutching the rod had shaken Diana to her core. It couldn’t be the thing she had been looking for. It had to be fake. Chariot was its wielder, and only the White Witch herself could control the might of the stars.

After the missile crisis, Ursula had been unmasked as the White Witch and Diana’s search had ended. Shiny Chariot had been found. Her hopes had vanished with the rod, but maybe-just maybe Chariot knew more. Maybe she could summon it back. Fix what had been hurting Diana. Give her the magical fix it all that she had been hunting. No mundane magic could help her, but Diana had been sure that the power that came from the stars, from the very heavens themselves, could help.

Diana was desperate, and so she was not terribly surprised when she found herself neglecting her patrol route in favor of heading to Chariot’s quarters. As Diana approached the door, anxiety began to take root in her heart and creep its way through her body. She began to absentmindedly rub the hem of her shirt in her thumb and forefinger as her breathing quickened. Her footsteps stopped entirely. She was frozen outside the door, anxiety and doubt had chilled her and stopped her movements entirely.

Diana wanted to knock, she needed the power of the stars, wanted it, craved it; but she feared judgment. She was a Cavendish. She needed to know the answers to everything. But she didn’t know what she absolutely needed to know. She didn’t know how to bring her mother back. Many times she wished on stars for her mother to get better, and many times she was denied. But direct power, that magic surely could bring her mother back. And Chariot had it. But she couldn’t move. Fear of judgment and of what Chariot might do. What if she was sent away? Magicians and Witches were known for keeping secrets after all. And reviving the dead was not something that could be taken lightly.

So caught up in the static of her mind, Diana failed to notice the presence behind her. “Diana?” a voice called out. A hand lightly touching her shoulder brought Diana to the present and threw her out of the spiral she had caught herself in. Whirling around in surprise, Diana nearly crashed into the figure that stood behind her. It was Professor Chariot herself in a red tracksuit holding a mug.

“Diana, are you alright?” the concern in the Chariot’s eyes and the hand that had found its way to her shoulder made Diana flinch. She opened her mouth to rattle off a stiff but polite answer; but the longing in her, the question she needed answered made her pause. The traitorous thought of what if Chariot refused to talk to her from her previous one sided shouting match crept into her brain. Diana didn’t regret it. She never could when it came to Akko, but the idea that Chariot would refuse her due to the uncouth behavior she exhibited hurt greatly. The silence stretched between the two. Chariot gently nudged Diana forwards. “Why don’t we have a cup of tea and chat? I can see you have a lot on your mind.”

Desperate to regain some control, Diana gave a stiff nod. “Very well professor. There are some…questions I would like to ask.” Chariot gave a nod and held open the door for Diana. Diana took a few steps into the room and Chariot quickly followed behind her.

“Please sit down Diana,” Chariot gestured to a nearby desk “I’ll brew some more tea. Is chamomile fine?” Diana gave a noise of confirmation and walked to the desk nestled in a corner of the room. It was surrounded by various forms of clutter, mostly paperwork. Choosing one of the seats, Diana tucked her skirt underneath her and sat down, crossing her ankles and folding her hands quietly in her lap. Soon, Chariot set a mug of tea in front of her, and placed a wobbling tray with milk and sugar in the center of the table. The redhead then moved to the opposite side and settled down in the other seat, cradling her own mug.

Diana ignored the milk and sugar in favor of wrapping her hands around the mug drawing heat from the tea. The soft aroma of chamomile calmed her, and the ice in Diana’s veins began to melt. She cleared her throat and looked Chariot in the eyes. Diana would finally ask the great White Witch the answer to bringing her mother back. “Chariot, can,” Diana took a breath to calm herself further “…does the Claiomh Solais possibly have the power to return someone to life?” Diana’s eyes dropped to her mug as she waited on the answer. She heard Chariot take a sharp breath and Diana’s grip on the mug tightened.

“Oh Diana…..No, it can’t. The Shiny Rod has powers beyond comprehension, but it cannot bring back the dead. It can heal mortal wounds, it can transform, but the power of resurrection is beyond it. The stars are powerful, but even the stars are bound by magic’s will. They may interfere in mortal matters, but the Earth is not their realm, and therefore any interference deemed minute in the grand scheme is forbidden. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Diana’s vision swam with tears. Chariot did not sound like she was lying, and Diana was aware of the limitations of certain star magics. The same principle Chariot had described was one that was covered in scrying. That was why visions taken from stars were never complete or fully fathomable. The stars could only show glimpses of what would be to their favored children.

Chariot leaned over and covered one of Diana’s hands with her own. “Why don’t you tell me about her?” She asked, tears in her own eyes. She could guess who Diana had been asking for. The ache Diana had been suffering with could be felt by many of the staff, but the girl had been aloof and unapproachable.

“It won’t bring her back.” Diana’s hollow answer rang out in the room. Her world was crashing around her. What was her effort worth if magic could not bring back the life that was stolen? Her mother would never see her efforts. Never know of them. Diana didn’t even have the consolation of a tree; her mother had been too weak after the sickness had robbed Bernadette of her magic.

“It will, for us. For a moment. Stories have their own magic, and memories can be passed down through them.” Chariot gave Diana a teary smile. The warmth and care in them spoke volumes. Diana took a shaky breath. She was safe here. And maybe, having her mother back just for a moment, even in her memory, would be enough. Letting a few tears fall, Diana began.

“When I was younger, my mother often gave the maids off on Saturdays. She would always make me chicken nuggets then, always dinosaur shaped…….”

#lwa #little witch academia #diana cavendish #chariot du nord #ursula callistis #shiny chariot #my writing

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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768.

Why did you last feel like crying? >> When I checked my bank account because I was trying to decide whether to get HBO Max or not, and I discovered that my stimulus check is coming on Wednesday. I’m just really relieved, lmao. Had just about resorted to convincing myself that I wasn’t going to get one at all. But now I can get some stuff I need but can’t normally afford!

How long ago and why did you last feel infuriated? >> I don’t remember. It probably had to do with people making noise.

Do emotions control you or do you control your emotions? >> Er. Well, here’s the thing -- on a good day, when I’m not having Symptoms Of Disorders, my emotions can be pretty manageable, or at least my management of them can feel pretty competent and compassionate. On the other days, my emotions can be a fucking game of Minesweeper where all the squares have mines in them. Except one. One square has 100 mines in it. The probability of stepping on that square is like 80%. So.

Do you keep your friends secrets/private information to yourself? >> Well, yes, if that sort of thing was shared with me.

What negative quality do your friends bring up the most? >> I... don’t think I’d like to be friends with people who have a habit of bringing up “negative” things about me.

What quality do you think you have that others don't think you do? >> I don’t know, I haven’t taken a poll or anything.

Do you often "jump" to conclusions? >> I mean, maybe. I don’t know how often I do it but it’s probably the average amount.

Do you find being alone with strangers scary, interesting or indifferent? >> That definitely depends on the context of the situation.

Do you think you know a lot about the world? >> No, because I don’t.

What about the world do you wish you never found out? >> ---

Do you know first aid? >> Not really, mostly because I’ve rarely had an opportunity to practice it.

Does the sight of blood make you feel sick? >> Not as a rule.

Does your first name have an L in it? >> No.

Middle name have a C in it? >> No.

Last name have a R in it? >> No.

Do your initials spell a legitimate word? If so, what? >> No, they don’t. But Sparrow’s spells “SAD” and that’s pretty funny.

The word above, does it have any connection to you at all? >> I mean, she is on antidepressants.

Do you prefer classic rock or nope alternative? >> Nope alternative???? I don’t know if that’s a typo or what but that’s hilarious to me for some reason. Anyway, I listen to both classic rock and alternative.

Do you like Kings of Leon? >> Sure. They’re, like... motel-grunge/motel-rock adjacent. (I can’t be the only person who’s made up that term, for certain kinds of bands. Like Queens of the Stone Age and shit. Sometimes Kings of Leon gives the same vibe, but... cleaner, I guess.)

How about The Script? >> Never heard of them.

Does crying make you feel better? >> Sometimes, but first I have to go through the hell of letting myself cry in the first place.

Do you know a girl called Becca? >> No.

How about a guy called Gregory? >> No. I almost said yes and then I realised I was thinking of Greg Hirsch from Succession. smh

Does someones background effect whether you'll be friends with them or not? >> Their... background? What kind of background are we talking about here?

How about their religious background? >> I mean, I don’t think I could be friends with a fundamentalist evangelical Christian. But most non-fundie versions of religions are okay with me.

If someone admitted cheating in a past relationship of theirs, would you trust them? >> ---

Do you drink tea and/or coffee every day? >> Nope. It’s almost warm weather time, so I won’t be drinking much tea at all until fall, unless it’s iced.

Did you ever want to be a cook as a kid? >> No.

How about a fashion designer? >> Yeah, I used to draw outfits and shit. I still think fashion is a fascinating industry but I want no part of it myself.

Do you wish that magic was real? >> I mean, no, not really. Also, like. I have Inworld. So.

What food would you love to wipe off the face of the earth? >> ---

Can you use a bottle opener? >> Sure.

Do you own a cheese grater? >> Yeah.

What time will it be in 38 minutes time? >> 11.06p EST.

What day/date will it be in 11 days time? >> The 20th of May.

Have you ever owned a pet fish? >> Nope.

Do you prefer fire or ice? >> I have no general preference. They’re both valuable.

Do you rap along with rap songs? >> If I know the lyrics, yeah...

When happy, do you become more talkative? >> Not necessarily. Sometimes I’m happiest in silence.

Bowling or sailing? Why? >> ---

What colour is your kettle? >> Black.

How about your microwave? >> White.

Do you prefer sitting in the front or back of a car? >> It doesn’t matter.

How about in a train? On the bus? >> I have a specific seat I like on the bus. Train, doesn’t matter. (On the subway, I liked sitting in the smallest seats so there’d be less chance of someone sitting next to me. Some of the newer trains have that one-seater that flips up, by the door? Love that seat.

Do you care about politics? >> Fuck no.

Obama or Bush? >> Well, that’s this survey dated.

Blair or Brown? >> ---

When did you last cook something from scratch? >> I don’t remember.

What things make you jealous? >> ---

Are you offended easily by non politically correct language? >> I’m not easily offended, period. Most things I recognise aren’t meant to be taken personally by me, specifically. But obviously I’m leery of the usage of incendiary language -- I’m not going to hang out with someone who throws around racial slurs or mocks people for having feelings about words meant to hurt them, like, duh.

Do you think the censors/fcc go a bit too far or are just right? >> I have no opinion about this, especially not a generalised one.

Do you feel hungry, thirsty, sleepy or none of the above? >> I’m getting tired because it’s around my bedtime.

What's your I.Q? >> ---

What's your Mum's Mum called? How about your Dad's Dad? >> ---

Do you prefer crepes, pancakes or waffles? >> Waffles.

Do you have ice-cream in your fridge right now? >> I think Sparrow still has some in there. Oh, and I still have a few mochi ice cream balls.

How about chicken nuggets? >> No, just fried chicken.

Do you eat fish often? >> Not as often as I’d like.

Have you ever taken a martial art? Which one{s}? >> No.

Do you know anyone who is scared of you? >> I don’t know if anyone’s afraid of me. If someone is, I bet they’re not going to go around telling me about it.

What person who has died would you bring back and why? >> ---

Do you like watermelon? >> Eh. I don’t get the hype.

Can you remember the month of your first kiss? >> ---

Do you make friends easily? >> No.

What makes you different from everyone else? >> Nothing, dude. I mean, I obviously have differences from people I know, or people I might encounter, but not from literally every human on earth.

I give you a piece of paper. What do you draw/write on it? >> ...

What pictures or photos are up in your lounge? >> My what.

Do you like purple and white patterned things? >> Not especially.

Do you know anyone called Pipa? >> No.

I say purple, you think... >> Sparrow, because I think she’d paint the whole world purple if given half a chance.

What do you think is the most interesting thing about you? >> Just, you know. My existence.

Do you like being complimented or does it make you uncomfortable? >> It can make me uncomfortable because of brain shit, but I also appreciate it and will try to express appreciation instead of discomfort.

Does the description of your starsign correspond with your personality? >> No, because the language of astrology as used to describe a person is more complex than just wherever the Sun was when you were born.

Do you have a photo album? >> No.

What artists paintings do you find the most beautiful? >> *shrug*

What about the most disturbing? >> *shrug*

Have you ever gone to a camp or summer school? >> No. I did summer theater once and I’ve gone to day camps.

What was your favourite cartoon as a child? >> Johnny Bravo is the only cartoon I remember watching, tbh. I didn’t get to see a lot of television unless it was the boring ass shit (to a child, anyway) my dad watched.

What was your biggest fear as a child? >> Thunderstorms. Until I hit thirteen and then suddenly I just... wasn’t afraid of them anymore. Don’t ask me how it happened, I really don’t know. (It might have been more gradual than that, of course. Memory is unreliable, especially from that far back.)

Would you rather be able to fly or breathe underwater? >> Breathe underwater. So, you know, I could actually not almost drown for once.

What about invisibility or mindreading? >> Invisibility. I want nothing to do with other people’s minds.

Do you like what you see in the mirror? >> No, which is why I don’t look in the mirror unless it’s necessary.

Which stereotype do you dislike the most? >> All of them??? Stereotypes in general?

Can you remember all your past teachers names? >> I can remember more than I’d expect to remember, but definitely not all of them.

Do you like talent shows? Which ones? >> No.

Have you ever failed an important exam? In what? >> Yeah, I failed the English midterm and final in 11th grade -- well, I say “failed” but it’s more like “I got a zero because I literally turned in a blank sheet of paper”. I... was definitely struggling.

Do you find people taller than you intimidating? >> No.

Do you think you are better than people of a different country/background? >> Fuck no???

What's your favourite thing about your country? >> Dude.

What's your least favourite thing about your country? >> Sigh.

Who is your favourite bzoinker? >> I don’t have a favourite, I just use bzoink to find surveys.

What websites do you have bookmarked? >> I have a lot of websites bookmarked.

Do you use bows and ribbons to decorate your gifts? >> No. Well, I’ll stick a bow on a Christmas gift because why not, but outside of Christmas I don’t even wrap gifts. I might put it in a bag but that’s it.

Do you listen to the same type of music as your parents? What type is that? >> I grew up listening to soul and R&B and gospel, so yes, that’s all still part of me.

What TV show scared you as a kid? >> None.

Family Guy, The Simpsons or South Park? Why? >> Hmm. Well, I don’t really know anything about The Simpsons, but I’d probably like it better than Family Guy, and South Park is so hit-or-miss (with a lot of misses) for me that I can’t really deal with it anymore.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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