#I don’t know exactly what the mood should convey here

[eaglesex]

my face is yours, my seething's yours

AO3 Link

Warning: Dubcon/noncon, sadism, unhealthy relationships, mentions of murder, general Ryan fuckery

“There you go! Much better, isn’t it? What do you think, Toph?”

Topher glances over, more out of duty than interest and shrugs. “Yeah, I think it’s alright.”

Ryan scoffs at that, playing up the hurt a little for the sake of drama. “'Alright'? You’ve got no taste, you know that?”

“Sure, whatever you say.” He isn’t going to argue with Ryan over something Ryan is so clearly pleased about. He’s expecting the same enthusiastic reply but honestly, Topher doesn’t care at all that Ryan found a new plaything.

It should be a relief – it is a relief. Ryan can focus his energy on picking someone else apart for a change.

Topher really doesn’t care.

“Mmmph!” Troy protests admist their bickering. He can’t make a lot of sound behind the duct tape and the rag in his mouth, but his wide eyes spilling tears down his cheeks are enough to convey his fear and discomfort.

Ryan crouches down beside him and Troy flinches, tries to wriggle backwards. With the awkward way he is crumpled on the floor, arms and legs tied together tightly, he can barely do much more than squirm.

“Awww…” Ryan grabs a handful of his hair and lifts him up, ignoring the muffled yelps of pain. “You’re so cute when you can’t run your big dumb mouth, you know that? You should learn to be more like Topher. He barely speaks unless spoken to.”

Topher shoots him an annoyed look but doesn’t come to his rescue. He knows better than to cross Ryan, especially when he gets into one of his...moods.

“Mmmmm-mmph!” Even while gagged Troy’s talkativity doesn’t lessen, he whines and whimpers like he’s trying to convey a message, one that is most likely, ‘hey get me out of here what are you doing stop hurting me please i just want to go home’, if Topher has to guess.

“Tsk tsk tsk.” Ryan shakes his head, disappointed in the lack of immediate obedience and drops Troy again, letting him writhe on the ground as he stands. Without hesitation, he places his boot directly onto the bound man’s throat.

Topher finds himself watching with baited breath, now completely unable to focus on the tasks at hand.

Ryan holds himself comfortably in that position, relaxed and smirking casually while his foot pinned Troy in place. He knew exactly how much pressure to use without severely hurting him. It’s restraint Topher knows very well, when Ryan wants to draw out the fun for as long as possible. He loves breaking his toys but he is methodical about it, poking and prodding until they come slowly come undone.

He is beautiful, in a grotesque way, like fire is to a moth and Topher finds himself drawn to his cruel power involuntarily.

Troy continues to sob as he is held in place and it does nothing to earn him any sympathy from either game runners.

“He’s worse than Mikey, isn’t he? But far cuter, heh. I think we should keep this one, Toph.”

Topher pulls his gaze away from Troy and looks up, only to find Ryan’s already looking back at him. He cocks an eyebrow and Topher hurries to appease him.

“Yes- yeah, sure. What do you want to do with him? He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere.”

“Well, I’m glad you asked. Come over here.” Ryan watches as he shuffles over and Topher hopes he doesn’t see the reluctance in his expression. It’s not like he’s squeamish. He helped run WOE.BEGONE after all. But something about this strikes Topher the wrong way. Maybe because Troy is not nearly as annoying and deserving of violence as Mike Walters.

He comes to stand awkwardly next to Ryan.

Ryan is grinning like a wolf in a sheep’s pen. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”

“Er...yes?”

“Okay, now how about you teach Troy something I taught you. See how well you internalized my training.”

Topher stared at him. A few seconds pass and he realizes Ryan isn’t going to take back his order.

“You want me to teach him...what?”

“I’m sure you can figure that out, Toph. Come oooon, don’t make me do all the hard work.” Ryan finally removed his foot from Troy’s neck and sat down on the couch. With the way he’s leaning back, legs spread comfortably and an arm splayed over the back of the couch, he looks completely at ease in comparison to the two men who are either staring awkwardly or crying in fear.

Ryan raises his chin at Topher, a silent demand to get on with it already.

All of this for time travel. Topher thinks he should’ve just applied for OVER instead. Or even as a Flinchite Boot.

He lets out a long suffering sigh and kneels down next to Troy. The bound man tries to scoot away to no avail. He stares up at Chris, begging with his eyes to let him go.

Maybe he does feel a bit bad for Troy. At least Ryan gave him the choice as to what trick he should teach Troy, instead of demanding he just hurts him right on the fly.

“Errr…” Topher takes a moment to think. Ryan has trained him to be more complacent, a good little soldier who obediently follows orders and doesn’t dare to question his genius. Usually his ‘training’ was getting killed by disgruntled players whenever he got too snippy with Ryan. On a few occasions, Ryan did get him in compromising positions and had his way with him.

Topher blushes. Wait, was Ryan expecting him to fuck Troy in front of him?

He glances over but Ryan doesn’t say anything else. He just watches, an amused smile playing on his lips. The sight of him so focused on Topher sends a pleased shiver down his spine. It gives him the push he needs to make a decision.

“I’m not gonna hurt you unless you make me, understand?” He says to Troy, his tone hardening. He can hear Ryan snort and it spurs him on further. “And I don’t want to hear another peep from you. If you speak without permission, you’ll regret it.”

Knowing what he knows about the security guard, that’s going to be nigh impossible, but it’s a good start.

He leans down and yanks the duct tape from Troy’s mouth, the strong adhesive leaving behind angry wet marks. Troy’s lucky enough to still be gagged with the sock they shoved down his throat as he cries out. Topher plucks it from his mouth, tossing it away in slight disgust. Ugh, he hates these things. He’s got bad memories, him and socks.

“Please let me go please please please-” Troy starts the second he’s caught his breath. Topher doesn’t hesitate. He backhands him harshly, sending him crumbling to the floor all over again.

In the corner of his eye, he can see Ryan shake his head.

“I thought the order was pretty clear.”

Troy whimpers but this time keeps his mouth shut.

Good boy lingers on the edge of Toph’s tongue. He doesn’t say it. Ryan doesn’t need to hear him say that, even if he thinks Troy would react far better to praise than he would to being smacked around. He does bury his hand into Troy’s hair, just holding him there as he would with a pup.

“Here, Toph. Catch.” Ryan’s holding an honest to god dog muzzle – when did he get that, wait how did he have that, was that meant for Topher at some point or did Ryan find a way to buy that before this whole thing got started? - and Topher is left holding it, a bit dumbfounded.

There’s an odd feeling in his gut. He’s not sure he likes it.

He looks back at Troy who is watching with wide eyes, trying to figure out when they’re going to hurt him again. The muzzle isn’t going to stop him from speaking but it’ll suit him nicely.

In a second it’s fastened to Troy’s head. It looks a bit ridiculous in an endearing way and coupled with the redness from the tape and the slowly growing bruise from where Topher had hit him. He can see the appeal.

“You don’t speak unless I tell you to, you hear?” He says to Troy, aiming for stern and landing somewhere between awkward and half hearted. He tries to imagine its Mikey instead, tries to channel his disgust and anger into aggression he could use to hurt Troy with. He doesn’t really want to hurt him as much as he wants Ryan to approve.

It’s all about Ryan, in the end.

He glowers at Troy, who nods meekly. If his arms were untied, Topher is certain he would’ve done the zipping-lips-and-throwing-away-the-key motion.

“Come on, Toph, you can do better than that.” Ryan calls in a playful heckle, winking in response to Topher shooting him a look. “Where’s the big scary guy I know is hiding in there? You didn’t go soft on me, did ya?”

“No, Ryan, I’m going slow.”

“Too slow if you ask me. D’you want me to remind you how its done?”

Topher looks down at Troy who frantically shakes his head. He’s already picked up on the fact that Ryan means more trouble for him.

Without thinking, Topher grabs Troy by the muzzle straps and pulls him off the ground, onto his knees. He looks down into the wide eyes of the security guard and his mind starts to drift, shutting out Ryan for a moment so he can think of what he wants.

“Are you any good with that mouth of yours?” He asks Troy.

Just as expected, Troy opens his mouth to speak, but he cuts himself off with a squeal when Topher yanks his head back by his hair.

“I’m sorry!” Troy cries, foolishly digging a deeper hole for himself. “I don’t know what you want from me!"

Topher doesn't realize Ryan got up to join him until he hears the sound of a gun hammer being cocked and sees the barrel pressed against Troy's temple, who stills immediately.

There's a moment of silence as all three look at each other.

"What?" Ryan asks, breaking the quiet first. "You're losing the plot, Topher. Thought I'd give you a hand."

"How exactly am I supposed to obey your order if you keep stepping in." Topher snaps back. He's suddenly feeling defensive and angry at Ryan for not trusting him to get this done.

Ryan is taking away his chance to impress him. Sure he didn't want to fuck with Troy originally but now he wants to prove what he can do, if only Ryan will have the courtesy to extend a little bit of trust.

Ryan is looking at him with pursed lips. Then he shrugs and takes away the gun, but he doesn't return to the couch. He stands there next to Troy, holding the weapon with his eyes trained on Topher.

One more chance. If he doesn't please Ryan now, Ryan will make sure to punish them both.

Topher is determined to get a good grade. He drops Troy back onto his knees and undoes his belt. His cock hasn't had the chance to harden between the jealousy he felt for Troy and the awkwardness of putting on a show for Ryan, but he suspects Troy's big mouth is useful for something other than blabbering, with the way that Troy watches him enraptured.

He goes to unclip the muzzle from around Troy's head but Ryan stops him with a, "Ah, hold on, Toph."

Topher pauses to watch as Ryan grips the front of the muzzle. With a click, the front unlatches and opens, allowing for an opening. It's big enough for Topher to be able to use it without scraping against the side of the plastic.

"...seriously, why do you have that."

Ryan shoots him a knowing smirk.

"Was that....did you plan this in advance?" Topher's face grows hot at the thought of Ryan looking at muzzles for one that not only have an opening up front but are big enough to let him face fuck their newest hostage with ease. Big enough for Ryan too. Again, Topher wonders if the muzzle was meant for him originally.

He imagines himself in Troy's place, bound tightly, staring up at a self satisfied Ryan unzipping his pants so he can force himself down Topher's throat. His cock hardens.

"You can examine it up close later." Ryan winks, sending a shiver down Topher's spine with the implication.

He tries to look less flustered as he grabs Troy by the muzzle straps on either side of his head and pulls him forward. Troy shuffles to meet him and he opens his mouth without any prompting to take all of Topher in, further and further and further until Topher hits the back of his throat.

"Fuck!"

Troy doesn't even flinch. He breathes heavily around the intrusion, nostrils flaring but then he swallows and any coherent thought evaporates out of Topher's mind. He starts thrusting forward mindlessly, only focused on his own pleasure. Ryan and the cabin disappears. All he cares about is the next thrust.

"Would you look at that, you are good at something." Ryan's voice cuts through the bliss. Topher struggles to regain his focus and look at what's going on. Ryan's hand is buried in Troy's hair, keeping him still for Topher while he mocks the bound guard.

"Mmmm!" Troy hums at Ryan in what sounds like agreement.

"Fuck-" Topher curses again. His fingers tighten in the straps of the muzzle and he pulls Troy close so he can fuck his mouth in earnest. Any mindfulness of being careful is long gone now, he needs more and he needs it right now. Ryan might as well not exist, not when there's a warm, eager, wet mouth around his cock, welcoming him down a tight throat.

He's not gonna last long. Topher moves one hand to bury it into Troy's hair, pulling at it until Troy opens his mouth wider for him. Just a few more thrusts and he'll be emptying himself down his willing throat – god he's so good, so obedient for Chris, taking in every inch of him even though he is being fucked with little to no grace.

Hot coils of pleasure begin to tighten inside of him, his muscles tensing and he is so close-

"Hold on there for a moment, Toph." Ryan's voice cuts through the haze and then he's feeling someone pull him away from the edge of climax.

"What!" Topher snaps, half a mind to shove Ryan away. He looks down at Troy, who is slowly pulling off Topher's cock with a dumb look on his face. His lips are swollen and red, and as they separate, a long string of saliva hangs between them. The image is so obscene Topher almost cums right there – if Ryan's grating interjections didn't demand his attention.

"You don't want to cum already, do you?"

"I very much do, Ryan!"

"No no no, where's the fun in that?" Ryan sneers as he eyes Topher, red faced, disheveled, harder than he's ever been before or at least it feels that way. He can't work up the energy to feel self conscious, only the growing urge to punch Ryan in the face.

"You didn't even train him to do anything. You told him to be quiet and then stuffed his mouth anyway, how's he supposed to learn from that?"

"I don't-" Topher swallows. "I really don't care about that right now."

"See, this is why you're always gonna be my bitch. No drive to climb to the top, you're happy to stay on the bottom as long as you get fed." Ryan kneels down next to Troy, a hand gripping the back of his neck in warning. "You're just like our little friend here, aren't you, Toph?"

Troy, still dazed, says nothing, just nods in agreement. He's more scared of Ryan than he is of Topher. Chris isn't sure if he feels indifferent or annoyed.

Ryan yanks the belt from Troy's pants in a quick movement and pulls them open so he can shove his hand inside. He looks pleased to find Troy hard and wanting, giving him a few quick experimental tugs.

Then he turns and grabs Topher's cock in his free hand. Topher lets out a startled moan and ruts up into the touch as the fading climb towards orgasm returns with a vengeance.

He sees Troy looking similarly overwhelmed by the sudden attention while Ryan looks on, unfazed except for the smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He looks up at Topher and his gaze is intense, piercing through the fog. He doesn't have to say it. Topher can read it in his expression and without protest he lowers himself to his knees, across from Troy.

"There we go." Ryan says, pleased. Two grown men writhing pathetically underneath him as he plays with them like instruments. Exactly how he likes it.

Troy is noisy as expected, every inhale and exhale is followed by a needy whine and gasp, he strains against his rope to get closer to Ryan. There's no embarrassment or reserve as he wordlessly begs for more. Topher almost feels embarrassed for him and his lack of dignity, until he remembers all the times Ryan has managed to coax similar noises from him. His face flushes darker.

After all that earlier teasing, he's more worked up than Troy and he can feel his climax rapidly approaching.

"Ryan-" Topher chokes out, a warning he's close.

"First person to cum gets the muzzle." Ryan replies cheerfully and then, pointedly, gives Topher a firm stroke. He just grins obnoxiously as Topher curses him out.

"Sorry, Toph. Them's the rules."

"You just made that up, you fucking- ahh fuck, fuck Ryan!"

He tries to fight off his orgasm but Ryan knows how to play him like a fiddle, hitting all the right spots until he performs just the way Ryan wanted him to. It's not the first time he comes all over himself, pissed at Ryan, at himself and utterly humiliated. And it's one of the things that makes his orgasm stronger – or maybe he's just been conditioned into that fetish. At this point he doesn't know where he starts and Ryan's influence ends.

Topher finds himself on his hands and knees, panting as the cabin spins around him, Ryan's hand no longer around him. He can hear him talking to Troy but his ears are still ringing too much to make anything out.

A moment later, someone kneels next to him.

"How are you doin, Toph?"

"Ughh," He begins. "I've been-"

Something warm and plastic pushes itself against his mouth and he feels straps tighten around his head. He moves his head back indignantly, but the muzzle stays on. Ryan leans back, still grinning like a maniac.

"Ah ah ah. Dogs don't speak now, do they, right Troy?"

#woe.begone #ryanball #do not propagate #smut fic #ryan w.bg #topher evans #troy w.bg #takes place after 144

[twilightmalachite]

Machina - Dues ex... 3

Author: Kino Seitaro (with Akira)

Characters: Mika, Makoto, Shu

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Y’see, although the blue sky is nothin’ but clouds floatin’ on by, if ya look closely, you can tell it’s “artificial”! ♪ But y’know, the person who made it didn’t mean to create a fake, they were hopin’ to create the real thing."

Season: Winter

Location: Sky Garden (SSVRS)

At a plaza that imitates the ES Sky Garden in the Test World…

Mika: Nnah, nnaaaah~…

I have no idea what’s goin’ on at all… There’s still time left on my pieces up for auction, and an unbelievable amount of money’s changin’ hands!

Everythin’ a huge mess thanks to that~. A buncha my fans all stormed my store and now it’s all just “chaos”.

If Mako-kun hadn’t gotten me outta there as quickly as he could’ve, it would’a been a crisis fer sure…

Makoto: Yeah, seriously… I didn’t expect that someone would try to become your friend and then try to get you to give them your digital art, Kagehira-kun.

But given your art’s so expensive now, I guess it makes sense that people would come up with strange ideas like that. You have to be well off enough to afford a luxury car.

Mika: Uu, say no more, Mako-kun!

I also thought it’d be nice if my work could have some value, but somethin’ like this seriously hasn’t happened before! I feel my hearts gonna jump outta my chest every time it’s brought up…

I’ve already got no clue why my works bein’ valued higher than Oshi-san’s, I’m not even sure if I should be valued more than those whose works are featured in art textbooks!

Makoto: Ahaha. Yeah, it really is nicer to climb stairs step by step.

The situation’s a little different, but it’s like when Trickstar won first place in SS.

I kept pinching my cheek as I laid in bed because I couldn’t believe that everything that happened that day wasn’t a dream.

Mika: Yeah yeah, you get it!

I should be happy over it, but it doesn’t feel real, like it’s just a dream!

Makoto: I bet you’ll be too restless to be able to make anything new for now, so it might be a good idea to stop playing Test World for a bit.

Mika: Hm… I dunno about leavin’ the Test World…

Makoto: Ahaha, you like the Test World that much, huh?

But, I really don’t recommend it. You’re kind of a celebrity here in the Test World now, Kagehira-kun.

So much to the point that it might even hinder you from just walking outside to have some fun .

It’s gonna be tough to have as much fun playing as you did before.

Mika: Yeah, I know that, though.

…Ah, I don’t mean to brush off what you said, Mako-kun. It’s just, I guess you could say I got unfinished business in the world?

I wanted Oshi-san to properly recognize my digital art.

My work so far’s only been simple-mindedly created usin’ the new technology. But, that’s exactly what Oshi-san so angry.

I wanted to create somethin’ proper in hopes of convincin’ Oshi-san.

Makoto: Hmm. Well, judging from the auction results and response, it doesn’t seem like your art’s bad.

Maybe he just was in a bad mood at the time. I dunno if it’s jet lag or what, but there are days where Izumi-san’s unusually crabby too.

Mika: Y’think it could be that? I hope so, but Oshi-san seemed to be real angry. Like what I made was half-baked, or somethin’.

Y’see, although the blue sky is nothin’ but clouds floatin’ on by, if ya look closely, you can tell it’s “artificial”! ♪

But y’know, the person who made it didn’t mean to create a fake, they were hopin’ to create the real thing.

I bet they were creatin’ it, really aimin’ to make a world that could replace the real one. It’s like that.

This here ain’t the real world, but I do think it’s an interestin’ one. Everyone here’s tryin’ to get closer to the real world. It’s a real nice atmosphere.

So I thought to make a work that embodies that interestin’ context that could convey that to even Oshi-san.

Makoto: …I see now. From the perspective of the real world, this world may look fake, but I also feel the world of SSVRS can be just as real as the real one.

I guess you could call it harmonious? It’s so peaceful here that you can forget about reality.

Oh, right. Kagehira-kun, if you’d like, would you like me to buy you a new atelier?

Mika: Ehh, can I really ask that of you!?

The VL$ is worth so much now~! Wouldn’t it be a waste if you blew it on a gift?

Makoto: No need to hold back. Winter break will be ending soon. I was thinking about retiring from my part-time position as a test player anyways.

It’d be nice to cash in my extra VL$ given the fact Trickstar’s struggling financially, but… If I cover too much of the sum, the others will feel bad.

Game money is for using in games. So I can use it without hesitation! ♪

Mika: Thank ya kindly, Mako-kun. ♪ If ya do that, then I can start on my next work—

Shu: There will be no need for that, Kagehira.

Mika: …!? Is that Oshi-san’s voice…? Where’s it coming from?

?

Shu: Look up at the sky. I am here, Kagehira!

Mika: Huh…? O-Oshi-san’s on top of a flying machine!? What’s going on!?

Shu: Kagehira. I’ve come to bring you back to reality, upon this mechanical god.[1]

Mika: But why… What did I do wrong, Oshi-san?

Shu: Before I answer that question, I have something to ask you.

Why did you make such a thing, Kagehira?[2]

← prev | story directory | next →

I’ve explained what dues ex machina meant, but the word originates from Greek and Roman theater; the god that would then resolve the conflict would be held up in the air by a crane, a machine. That is why the words literally mean “god from the machine”. In the same sense, Shu is here to resolve the conflict, in the air by a machine.

The scene from the start of the prologue now takes place. Feel free to re-read!

#machina #event #translation #mika kagehira #makoto yuuki #shu itsuki

[cherry-lipbalm]

anthony bridgerton

fifth season and counting. anthony bridgerton.

part two. (part one)

concept: yn has lost count of how many seasons she has gone without a suitor, but her mother certainly hasn’t, and if it takes recruiting anthony bridgerton to get her off her back, then so be it.

I was starting to think that maybe I wasn’t the issue, but in fact the serious lack of desirable men, their inability to convey a single well-established form of conversation, and my mother’s undeservedly high standards that prohibited me from a proposal. I knew I was kidding myself in pretending I really had no part to play in my status, but it was nice to believe, for once, that maybe it wasn’t all my fault.

“Alright, let me see who’s first on your dance card,” my mother said, grabbing my wrist with a sense of fervour she only inhibited at soirées.

“How is there no one on your dance card?” She asked next, as if she hadn’t been the one to turn away the last three suitors.

“I don’t know, mother.”

She sighed, a sound I had grown rather accustomed to this evening, and turned back to the scenery with a plastered smile. Even having been pushed to the outskirts of those that spectated the dancing, my mother seemed to be in somewhat of a pleasant mood, her eyes waltzing between everyone in attendance, waving courteously as if she had some sort of superiority here. I, meanwhile, slumped beside her, keeping my head low and failing to calm the panic within me every time someone neared, threatening the possibility of conversation.

Although my mother was my biggest critic, there was no shaking the thought that she didn’t exactly mind all of this. As I watched her in that conservatory ball, smiling and gently applauding, nodding graciously at anyone who dared look our way, I realised she had really never stopped being the same mother she was five seasons ago. She treated every time like it was the first, with pure excitement and virtue, as if she would spend the rest of her days doing this: trying to marry me off, as if she enjoyed it.

“Lady YLN,” an endearing yet patronising voice approached us, one I recognised very well indeed.

“Lady Danbury! Oh, what a pleasure,” my mother responded, finally turning from the crowd. Her hands gratefully found hers, clasping them with a tight smile as she entered our small circle.

“The pleasure is mine,” she smiled. The thud of her cane reverberated through me. “Miss YN.”

“Lady Danbury,” I curtsied. “We are truly grateful for your hospitality. You have outdone yourself, once again.”

She smiled approvingly, and my chest swelled with a vague sense of accomplishment that I knew meant nothing. People were watching, certainly, but not to observe me as a contestant, to awe at my eloquence or brandishing of knowledge, or even at the dress my mother had had tailored especially. They were staring simply to stare, and wonder why on Earth Lady Danbury was wasting her time, and how on Earth I had even got in.

“Come, now,” she said, oblivious or uncaring to the eyes that followed us. “We have lots to do.”

My mother and I exchanged a glance, with varying degrees of optimism, and followed suit. Lady Danbury walked with an air of superiority, and everyone she passed curtsied and bowed accordingly. It made me ashamed to follow her as she found her way through the crowd effortlessly. I knew I did not belong. We meandered past a couple dressed in blue who I remembered had married three seasons ago. She had always been adamant he would be the one of her suitors she should betroth, and their matrimony had been swift and successful. I remember one night vividly we shared where we spoke in the orangery of this very conservatory. She was unsure of whether her feelings were reciprocated, and here they were married, and here I was, simply commenting on marriage, with nothing else to show for myself. I should have never left the house, I wish I had stayed at home.

“Are you enjoying the evening, Miss YN?”

“Very much so, Lady Danbury.”

“Don’t lie to me, child.”

“Okay,” I squeaked, and turned quickly away. Suddenly, I gained an immense interest for candles and how they lit up the room.

“This is your fifth season, correct?”

Really, I had lost count, and even if I hadn’t, the last thing I wanted to do now was talk about it. Had the underlying notion of it all in everyone’s stares not been enough on the matter? The fact that I was still unmarried hung in the air like a thick fog, it was irrevocably discernible, and I thought it rude of Lady Danbury to ask the question, nonchalant, as if everyone here did not already know that this was my fifth season.

“Indeed,” I replied within a sigh.

She craned her neck over the spectators, eyes glistening over and into them, through into the sea of dancers, wading past one another with tight jackets and flowing dresses. I tried ardently to imagine myself being one of them: delicately poised, dancing to the right rhythm, and concluded it impossible: both the prospect of me being able to dance and me being asked to.

“Well, we better get a move on, I think.”

My mother laughed her I’m-trying-to-be-pleasant-but-am-certainly-not-about-to-be laugh, “and do you not think she has had enough time to do so, Lady Danbury? Five seasons is surely satisfactory enough to sift through the bunch.”

I bowed my head, knowing she was right. I was simply too picky. Every man was either too loud or too quiet, too opinionated or too timid. I found issue with their attire, or their home, or an overbearing family (though I’d be a hypocrite to judge on that one). I could never settle for a man, and that was exactly why I was in this position at present: having Lady Danbury as my matchmaker.

“Ah, Lady Bridgerton!”

Oh, kill me now.

“Lady Danbury!”

Seriously, kill me now.

As if tonight had not raised my blood pressure enough, the last thing I needed was to act even more proper than I already was struggling to accomplish. I did not have to have ever been introduced to the Bridgertons to be aware of their status and opulence. Their names carried everyone through the season, and Daphne Bridgerton’s, particularly, carried throughout my house, as well as the burden that came with not being her. At the mention of them, I wanted to shun away, turn on my heel and run out of the Ball. The last thing I could handle was trying to navigate a conversation with the likes of the Bridgertons. I knew I would say something stupid, embarrass myself or, god forbid, fall over again. My mother kept me in place with a hand on my shoulder, one which I’m sure would appear caring to anyone else, but which I knew was anything but.

“Oh, what a wonderful evening!” Lady Bridgerton smiled, approaching us and allowing the circle of her family to form behind her. My posture shadowed, compressed with the abundance of people ahead of us now, some even daringly encroaching beside us.

“It is indeed. Have you met Lady YLN?” She asked, gesturing to my mother. I watched her eyes jump over, recognising the surname and the status that came with it. In this town, names meant so much more than someone’s identity.

“I can’t say I have had the pleasure,” she smiled. My mother curtsied, and I bowed my head. Not out of courtesy, but out of a vehement wish to be anywhere but here.

“And of course her daughter, Miss YN.”

And then, shit. This was the moment I had dreaded. An obvious introduction, the saying of my name. I had managed to keep myself somewhat covered in the shadows and in between the bodies of everyone here, but now I was a statue in the room, to be observed. My bones became rigid, I forgot to curtesy, and I could find nothing within in me but to stare, dumbfounded.

A good start, if I don’t say so myself.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she lied. Then, she took the liberty of introducing all her children, who smiled politely as they should in my direction. I gulped, wondering just how long of this interaction I had already endured.

“… and, oh, Anthony is here somewhere. Benedict, where is your brother–?”

“Here, mother!” A voice came, and a shuffle amongst the group as a brunet appeared with a more-than-charming smile. He nodded at all of us, and I watched his neck stiffen upon me, his eyes peering into mine with a gaze I recognised as the same of his who had given me his hand on my less-than-elegant entrance.

I decided, right there and then, that I would just have to pass away.

“Anthony, these are the YLNs.”

I decided, too, that I didn’t favour to the emphasis placed on ‘these.’ As if, “yes, the family we’ve been hearing so much about? This is them.” I thought about crying, and about running away and never coming back, but my nerves kept me still. It didn’t help any more when the adults exchanged some knowing glance amongst them when Lord Bridgerton moved from greeting my mother to extending his palm to me.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, as if we hadn’t already met, as if we were those two old friends again sharing an inside joke.

I placed my fingers in his, with a determined nudge from my mother, and flustered entirely when he pressed his lips to my knuckles in a chaste greeting. I tried to ignore the whispers around us, as well as the excited giggle of my mother and proud hum of Lady Danbury, and somehow found it not too hard to do so. He stood back up straight with an easing smile, nodding again to me to which I couldn’t help but meet with a playful rolling of the eyes. I knew it had been inappropriate as soon as I had done it, and what would people think of me acting so rudely in front of a family as well-established as the Bridgertons? But the Lord laughed again, quietly, and it didn’t seem to matter what anyone else thought.

This is how all my friends had felt, I realised. All those other women who glistened under the sight of men and their suitors. I’d rendered them silly, dismissive of how one can instigate such a change in another, being a force of optimism and joy. Yet as Lord Bridgerton stood ahead of me with such a knowing smile, even being a man I had only met this evening, I seemed to understand it all at once. Had I been waiting five seasons for this moment? And had I been stupid to fall in so feverishly and deep within only a few sentences?

Had it not been for the shift in the haste of the atmosphere, I would have never noticed the orchestra starting up again, I had been so hilariously engrossed in whatever was or wasn’t between the Lord and I. I stumbled to my side when those around me flurried to find their partners, and most of them seemed to do so with the man ahead of me in mind.

“It seems you have a crowd, Anthony,” Lady Bridgerton said, and I watched a wrinkle form between his eyebrows. He turned to the awaiting throng of women who had inched closer and closer during our meeting, and they waited eagerly with batted eyes and beaming smiles, doing all my mother had instructed me to do. Again, I had been too late, and had missed the mark. Overtaken a whole season again by women who were far prettier and more equipped to this lifestyle. I noticed the tone in his mother’s voice seemed just as keen for me to be out of the picture.

“I see,” he said, remorseful, and I was sure I would once again have to prepare myself for the rejection I had endured season upon season.

You can imagine my shock, then, when he extended his hand toward me for the second time that night.

“May I have this honour?” He asked, quirking his brow.

I, frankly, panicked. If it wasn’t for another merciful jab in the back from my mother I would have stared at him wide-eyed for the rest of the night.

“Oh, yes, yeah, love to,” I said, forgetting every lesson in grace and decorum I’d ever been taught. In my defence, I hardly had much practice of the whole ‘accepting a dance’ thing.

I took his hand, sensitive to his fingers curling around my palm. He smiled gratefully and led me to the dance floor, much to the dismay of the women around us waiting attentively. I, yet, found it remarkably easy to ignore the glares and whispers, possibly for the first time in my life, as Lord Bridgerton wandered seamlessly though the crowd with me on his arm.

“I’m not very good at this, by the way,” I said as he waded me to stand in front of him.

“Well, if going by your earlier performance is any credit,” he said, referencing our first encounter, “I should believe that.”

I bowed my head in a mixture of shame and amusement. His fingers benevolently clasped and unclasped against mine: a gentle reminder of his grounding presence. I willed myself not to get too carried away, I must first, at least, focus on not tripping myself up on this dance floor.

There was the hollowing reverberation of the cello, and with it I was swept along the tiles. I knew, with all the indoctrination of my mother, I should have been able to instantly recall the music, allow the rhythm of it to guide me in which steps were the right ones to take, for my feet to act on my own behalf and waltz in synchronisation with those around me, but it seemed no matter how hard my mother tried, I just could not dance.

“Sorry,” I cringed, feeling a tug when I had wandered in the wrong direction.

“Don’t be,” he assured me, a snicker under his words of which I didn’t feel was at my expense. I clutched tighter to the fabric of his coat, hoping maybe he’d be able to propel me into some sense. When he secured my waist and twirled me through the air, I was forced to suppress a squeal.

“You don’t do this often?”

“Why, can you tell?” I said, flustered when he placed me back onto my own two feet (for the second time that evening). He laughed, as if I had caught him off guard, and watched our feet –well, his feet– follow the music, while mine struggled to keep up.

“I suppose we can’t all be gifted,” he shrugged, and sent me off with a small smirk while our partners changed momentarily. My ears perked at his laughter upon my confusion of suddenly being in the arms of a Lord I’m sure had once escorted me to an unfruitful chaperone of an art exhibition two seasons ago. We skipped for a few short moments until I cascaded my way back to the brunet, who’s smirk had failed to falter.

“You’re too kind,” I continued. He pressed his palm to mine, raising it quickly so I was to spin, where he stopped me my back pressed to his front, and I was certain of his breath behind my ear.

The music paused, and I was sure we were to take our leave, but the faint strings of the violin altered us, maintaining our position. A hand cupped in mine with another lingering on my side, I felt a harrowing paradox of everyone’s eyes on me as well as the solitude between him and I. My dance card fumbled against my wrist, hanging there –as I– in anticipation until the music started again. Slowly, my heel turned under the direction of Lord Bridgerton, readjusting his hold more modestly with a curt smile.

Our hands, once interlinked above us, slowly descended until his knuckles were held in front of my face, almost cascading my eyes. With whatever expression upon his lips covered by his palm and mine, our eyes met in an odd sincerity I was unfamiliar to. There was a sensation I could almost acquire to pain in my chest, with the way it hollowed out my ribs under his stare and the way he looked at me. I wondered if this was that feeling described in all those novels, timelessly referenced, or maybe my organs were shutting down on me, I wasn’t sure.

The music stopped. There were bows, a few small shudders of applause, and the sound of heels as those unaffected walked away, subdued. I remained in the confined space the Lord and I had made of one another. I felt his pulse in his fingertips as he lowered my hand, making no subsequent effort to hinder his presence. Once the cloud had passed, fogging up my brain, I rustled for something to say – anything. God, why hadn’t I listened to my mother?

“Who else is on your dance card?” He asked, in such an accusatory tone I took a step back.

“I’m sorry?”

“On your dance card.” He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned down to me as if he were entertaining a child, but lowered his voice as if he were talking to anyone but. “Who else is on your dance card?”

There was a gravel to his tone, one which I couldn’t imagine someone would establish in public, never mind in such grandeur, and by such a figure.

“Oh, uh… well,” I flustered. He hadn’t even been a candidate on my dance card in the first place, so this, frankly, was embarrassing. There was no one on my dance card, and I knew it. For some reason, I pretended to have lost it, like it wasn’t dangling off my wrist for us both to see.

He took my arm, prohibiting me from my facade of searching for the card which was in plain sight, and turned me delicately to him. My face rushed.

“Your card is full,” he said.

“Ha, ha,” I replied, lacking all humour.

“What?”

“That’s not funny. You needn’t rub it in.”

“That’s not my intention.”

“Oh, don’t be condescending. I didn’t want to come here in the first place, it’s hard enough, I don’t need you–”

“I am trying,” he interrupted, raising a hand to my face, “to tell you I want you to dance with no one tonight, but me.”

He had stepped closer again, and was tilting his head down to me and using that godforsaken tone. I felt that crushing feeling in my ribs once more.

“Oh, you’ve reserved me, have you?” I said. “Like a carriage?”

The raise of his eyebrows fell with such a colosal shift I ran the risk of snorting again. My lips tugged by some invisible godly force into a grin with the paling of his face. Something struck me that Lord Bridgerton was used to getting what he wanted.

“And, on your dance card?” I prompted, crossing my arms with a poised brow of my own. “Do I get to book you in?”

He looked on at me with astonishment, and it almost shocked me all the same that he seemed to have never seen a woman fight back. I understand Lords are Lords and the Bridgertons are the Bridgertons, but, whether being foolish to think so, I thought a relationship of some sort had been established where I could chastise him, at least. Or maybe I had been stupid once again and thrown away another suitor.

“Anthony!” His mother called across the floor. She waved elegantly and discreetly to the fleet of awaiting women, almost forming a queue. “Come.”

The Lord looked to the throng, then back at me with a vanishing and insincere apologetic expression. He nodded a farewell, and strode away. It happened so quickly I barely grasped it had even happened.

And then it was me, again. I felt new, like I had endured some great travesty in my life that would serve as the turning point in my story. All I had done was stand there and be the woman my mother had always expected of me, and it still brought no joy. Everything she had built up for me to do, and for what? Had I not just experienced the one potential interaction that gained me insight into this other world, and watched it be dragged away in the same minute? There was simply no use, I knew it. I’d done it again: thrown myself and my opportunities away by being too much of the bad stuff and not enough of the good. I would be one of those women that marries the much older gentleman, that lives a life of melancholy solitude: successful to my mother and any other established family, but graven with the burden of lost potential.

I wandered back to the outskirts of the dance floor.

“It is a lovely evening, isn’t it?” My mother implored.

“Oh, indeed,” Lady Bridgerton replied. I stood beside my mother like a the stand of an afternoon tea no one touched: of old cakes and egg sandwiches.

Lord Bridgerton would be wed this season. One of those women would appease him, and he should live a very satisfied life betrothed to her, running the Bridgerton household. He would be just as successful in his own marriage in how he had been in appointing Daphne and the Duke, who he’d painted together with ease.

The remnants of his family didn’t stick around for long, I’m sure they worried for what my presence would do to tarnish their reputation, and they wandered back into the delicate liveliness of the Ball, leaving me and my mother to stale in the silence.

“I should have known that one wouldn’t have lasted,” she said. “Nevertheless, let’s try again. Maybe Lord Darcy will take our fancy.”

I scoffed, this time with no humour to my tone. “You really have a considerable lack of faith in my prospects, don’t you?”

“YN,” she tutted, speaking softly and placing an equally benevolent hand over mine. I drifted back in the fear she was about to act.. maternal. “I’m only being realistic. Where would kidding ourselves get us?”

No. This was dreadful. I wanted to go home. I wanted Clarence to bake me a cake so I could eat it all whole and then go lie in bed until I was nine-and-twenty.

“You are mercifully supportive,” I seethed, sarcasm distinct.

“I’m merely stating the facts, YN. You are in your fifth season, and you think you can betroth someone like Anthony Bridgerton? I beg you, dear, gain some perspective.”

I inhaled. My lip pouted and I tried to think about anything but my mother’s unwavering disappointment in me. I thought about cake, about my bed, about how I would be alone, and how the fact of the latter no longer seemed to appease me as much.

#anthony bridgerton x yn #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton one shot #bridgerton masterlist #Anthony Bridgerton masterlist #Anthony Bridgerton drabble #fifth season and counting

[parttimepuff]

Okay fine if rev won’t look on the bright side then I’ll just ask king dedede myself

You’ll get along with other birds right? You have a sense of Solibirdity? There’s a certain bird that is too scared of you to genuinely consider the thought

The king couldn't help but snicker. "Snrk. Solibirdity?" Dedede repeated. "I don’t think Rev feels it-" Beep pointed out, glancing at her father behind her. "h, I, hm." Reverie struggled to convey a thought, not sure how exactly to feel about that. "Heh, it's fine. Definitely gonna hold on to that word either way." The penguin decided, earning a smile from the Matter. "It’s a good word. Even if I don’t understand it." She expressed. "Ah'm guessin' solidarity tween birds. And ah guess having that many wings means ya count." Dedede figured, the Dream Fae giving him a polite, forced kind of smile. "Thank, you?" Reverie managed. "Yer welcome." The king replied, either not understanding his reaction or ignoring it. "I'm sure you can reach solibirdity once you get to know Rev better." Luna suggested, hoping to keep the mood light. "Yeah! And then things will be good, right?" Beep hoped. "Exactly!" The puff readily agreed.

Pausing a moment to think, Beep continued. "And what’s solidarity mean?" She asked. "It means… I think it just means being together about something." Reverie explained, realizing part way through that he didn't know an exact definition. "And, that's what we're trying to do. Be together about Rev being ok to stay here." Kirby chimed in. The Matter went silent, staring at him. "Why wouldn’t he be okay to stay." She said, almost accusatory.

The puff's hesitant smile fell, his peace offering being turned against him. "N-no, I, I just mean to say that he should!" Kirby defended. Seeing him struggling, the king stepped in. "So, we should probably get a lil further with your story, yeah?" Dedede suggested, turning his attention back to Reverie. "R-right, yeah." The Dream Fae stuttered.Though still leery of Kirby, Beep nodded. "R-right. He should." She mumbled, looking to her father again. "And, the rest of the story, right." She added. While Kirby went back to feeling out of place, Reverie picked up his story. "I kinda just, bounced from planet to planet after that. Met people, moved on…" "Just wanderin', huh?" Dedede commented. "mhm." Was the Dream Fae's short response, lowering a bit more behind Luna. Something Beep mirrored. To provide them both more cover, she stretched her wings a bit. "Then I ended up on Popstar… Mine, first. And… Sorry, I-I need a minute." He apologized, looking away. It was harder to recall seeing his face.

"Oh… take your time, ok?" Kirby reassured him, still wanting to help. "And then the other Dedede attacked him." Beep finished, ripping off the bandaid for him. "yeah…" Reverie muttered. The king nodded solemnly. "Right… Just kinda out of the blue or..?" Dedede hesitantly asked, not sure if just asking was crossing a line. "For me i-it was…" The Dream Fae replied, still not looking at him. "But didn’t…" His daughter started, before shutting up, tapping her claws together.

Well... much as he wanted to just let this run smoothly for Beep's sake, he couldn't leave that hanging. "Didn't..?" Dedede repeated. Reverie shifted uncomfortably. "…there's, more to it than that. Just… hard to talk about." He half-explained. "Ah got time." The king replied. "hhh yeah." The Dream Fae exhaled. Her anxiety spiking again, Beep was convinced that she'd screwed up bad.

#ask #ic #anon #King Dedede #Beep #Reverie #Luna #Kirby

[chellyfishing]

the girlies are going through it so i’ve watched even more stuff lately

i forgot in the last post that phil and i are keeping up with my adventures with superman (we are going to watch the newest one[s] today!) and this show is just. exactly what i want in superman media. because it’s superman! it’s why i love superman!!!!!! it’s just colorful and fun and he’s so puppy!!! and it’s incredibly anime, like they’re really out here wearing their inspirations on their sleeves and i love them for it. if you like superman who is actually superman and not batman but wearing blue this is the show for you. (and!!! he’s got the underwear!!)

bella and i also have started only murders in the building season 3. not much to say yet cause only two episodes but we’re off to a good start! i shan’t spoil who is IN THIS SEASON OH MY GOODNESS but i will remind everyone who forgot like we did that paul rudd.

we unexpectedly marathoned our flag means death the other night cause i had still not yet watched it and uhh. i mean do i really need to go into this one? xae was also there while we watched and he ended up getting sucked in to the point he was literally yelling at the show by episode nine. (also: when lucius was like “i know i’m not cute but i’ve decided to carry myself as if i am”? that’s the energy i want to embody from now on.)

as for movies: i think i should have included in the last one but am not sure about the order of things because time is fake that i saw insidious for the first time. i actually wrote a little mini-essay in my head about gender roles in that movie but it wasn’t as egregious about it as, say, a quiet place. like insidious doesn’t make me low-key a bit mad like that one does lmao. it has some real good spookenings! too bad the sequels are apparently real bad cause i would like to have continued the story, but it’s not killing me or anything. like that cliffhanger didn’t make me tear my hair out or whatever. it’s patrick wilson he’ll be fine.

we watched an irish film called the hole in the ground which is about a hole in the ground (that has some evil fey creatures in it). it was good! it’s very beautiful and quiet and atmospheric and i am a slut for atmosphere. this is for if you want a straightforward but artistic horror film.

then we watched the night house, and i guess horror movies don’t feel the need to have warnings because it’s a horror movie and you know it’s going to be horrific but we both wish we’d been warned ahead of time how much this one deals with suicide. it was really good and i could probably write a lot on it but it was also quite heavy and hit really hard. the ending had us both nearly in tears. recommended but with that warning.

(we rewatched the menu afterward to bring the mood back up. good-ass movie.)

and last night!! we watched red white and royal blue! i read the book ages ago but bella and rose were both going in pretty much blind and i’m so pleased with how much they loved it. i think it was a good adaptation. they kept what made the book a good read (it’s just a little modern romantic fairy tale with two men) and i think they conveyed the vibes of the developing relationship well. the lads played the roles well and with a lot of heart and sincerity. let’s not try to force either of them to come out over it though please? also in that vein: i am afraid that the release of the film is going to revive The Discourse about the story, so this is a reminder that mcquiston wrote it around the 2016 election as a way to cope and escape to a better and more just world. they know what it is and what it says.

can’t remember what else i’ve watched besides quite a bit of black mirror. i’ve been kind of choosy with the episodes because i’m still fucking haunted by the first one!!! why did they do that!!!!! but i gotta say. sarah hawkinson on youtube was so right. nosedive might be the best episode of the whole thing. just flawless. I could watch that ending scene ten thousand times i love it so much. special shoutout to joan is awful which is another current fav. maybe if i get through the whole series i’ll do a full ranking.

oh. and still playing zelda. haven’t got another divine beast but have fought a looooot of lynels. now just going around trying so hard to get guardians to drop ancient cores. not a sign of a giant one yet and i need THREE MORE PLEASE COME ON.

#deep thoughts

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] Alighted Happiness | Image of a Future Family - Part 2

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Reiko: Good work today, Sakuya-sensei.

Sakuya: Reiko-sensei! Um, I have a couple of questions I want to ask you…

Reiko: Me? About what?

Sakuya: Can you… Tell me about how you met your partner and things you’ve done with them?

Sakuya: The extent of it doesn’t matter. I won’t mind as long as it’s something…

Reiko: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Reiko: Here’s a cup of tea.

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Reiko: Where do I start… Hmm, let’s see, I met him when we were both students. We didn’t start dating right away--.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Reiko: …Well, and of course we fought a lot and cried a lot too. But we still kept going by day by day, and here we are now…

Sakuya: Wow… That’s so wonderful!

Reiko: Fufu, thank you.

Reiko: …

Sakuya: ?

Reiko: My… Father isn’t here anymore. He died before I was born.

Sakuya: Eh…

Reiko: That’s why my mother raised me by herself as a single mother. She worked hard every single day raising me.

Reiko: That’s why she never got to come to a single sports day, or playground event, or class visit.

Reiko: It wasn’t just school events, but also Christmas, New Year’s, birthdays…

Sakuya: …

Reiko: But I don’t blame my mother at all. I’m just really thankful to her for bringing me up to this point.

Reiko: It’s… True that I felt a little lonely going through all that.

Reiko: So, when I get married and eventually have kids… I want to spend as much time with them as possible during events and occasions.

Reiko: …Oh god, I haven’t even told my husband about all this. I don’t know why I told you that out of the blue. I’m really sorry.

Sakuya: I think… You should tell your husband about it.

Reiko: But that’s just my own personal ideal… I can’t impose that on him.

Sakuya: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: I’m home…

Director: Welcome ba… Sakuya-kun, are you okay? You seem like you’re a completely different mood from when you left…

Sakuya: …

Director: What happened?

Sakuya: …I talked to Reiko-sensei so I could try and make the movie for the entertainment.

Sakuya: But as I actually listened to what their past was, I began wondering if a video is really enough.

Director: Why’s that?

Sakuya: I think Reiko-sensei’s thoughts on the future are much more important than the past--.

Sakuya: So I thought what if it’s possible to convey to her husband the form of happiness she envisions with him.

Director: …I see. If you think that, then you should try it, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Even so, I’m not exactly sure what to do with that… I feel like I’m just back to square one now.

Director: …Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: ?

Director: You’re an actor, Sakuya-kun. So you should--.

Sakuya: …!

#a3! #a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #// oh wow this is starting to hurt

[flamingplay]

3,5,11,21,63

I'm EXTREMELY sorry for answering this so late, my life is a tumoill since I reblogged this ask game, so thank you so much, J, and all the people who sent to me inboxes for waiting! <3

DO YOU LISTEN TO MORE OLDIES OR MORE CURRENT STUFF?

heh depends on what's meant here uder oldies… If taking past several years I listen to the music released past 2010 much more often rather than the one from 70s-80s-90s smh...

5. IS THERE A SONG YOU DON’T LIKE BUT LIKE ITS MUSIC VIDEO?

"Obsession" by OK GO: I'm really not into their music but their music videos are some next level! Also don't go crazy about "A Temporary High" by AURORA but the visuals are so striking and thought through with the concept of god this song represents, I'm really amazed. Also remember some pretty visuals forsome kpop band but forgot who exactly they were...

11. FAVORITE SONGWRITER?

I would completely agree with you here on splitting this answer into several parts, so it will go like this:

favourite songwriter-lyricwriter:

Flo for her poetic sense and instrumental layers that rather coexist with the lyrics or highlight them or try to make it all very grandeous or try to be very tender and fragile to get into another mood. Everything about her music from lyrics to the aesethetics and music videos is multi-layered and metaphoric and I'm totally here for it! She's like an oldschool poetress that happened to adapt to the modern days because she accidentally was transported to this century...

AURORA for her unique sense of picking up emotions from other people's stories, letting them process through her heart and turning it all into little tales with each song's lyrics and instrumentals. This will always fascinate me about her as an overall approach, she's a true creator of music who will expand all the universes she has stored in her brains with making them into albums!

Yannis for his another level of being poetic with lyrics which give very poignant feelings in a sense of being deeply touched and at times a really impressive vocabulary, he's like no other lyricist makes me just go and look up another fancy word in a dictionary! I resonate the most with his approach of conveying the most aching and yearning feelings, think, he has a very special talent for this...

Jonathan Higgs for.... everything everything, pun intended. I've never met a lyrical mind THAT witty, ironic, experimental in approaches, and daring to look from different angles. If Flo is more multi-layered sonically then Jonathan is more multi-layered lyrically and thematically. You can probably write the whole dissertation on different character lores he managed to create and still hint at, there are so many Easter Eggs no, not these eggs you should give your body to here and there, you might get lost. You truly don't know what this unusual brain will come up with next and this is the most exciting part, imo. And, also, needless to say he's really capable of creating such catchy melodies with all his buddies, it's amazing!

favourite songwriter-musicwriter

Jon for being a soul of Coldplay who always adds the right tone and atmosphere, who builds up the most gorgeous melodies and has such a peaceful and flexible mind for collaborating with the other bandmembers, it's stunning, actually. He has a very peculiar way of knowing the emotion to play on his guitar and "sing" alongside with the lyrics, something absolutely unique and something I've never seen in any guitarist in exactly this way. Jon has such a broad spectrum of different emotions in his hand, seems like he has all answers to so many feelings...

A SONG OR ALBUM FROM THIS YEAR OR LAST YEAR:

Album from this year and album OF the year is Raw Data Feel but Eveyrthing Everything. It's incredibly personal for me and deals with such interesting topics in an unusual "dance your pain away" way (but not the way one can imagine though) you're in some ways caught unaware with each track here. It's about using something like AI to explain or conceal something that's difficult and maybe traumatic to explain, it's also about trying to figure your own ways out with inner self and your coping mechanism, and it's about... So much it's difficult to put into a short answer...

DO YOU PREFER LIVE RECORDINGS OR STUDIO RECORDINGS?

Gosh, depends on production: the worse it is the more I have a feeling of prefering the live recording. And in most cases live recordings contain something unique and not restricted by the label!

#asked #answered #blueberry beanie

[squishmallow36]

Keeper of the Lost Prepositions - Forty-four

Word count: 2.6k

Tw: dark!Dex, little bit of torture, little bit of extortion. Not super graphic.

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @kamikothe1and0lny @nyxpixels @florida-fruity-frog @poppinspop @crystallinewalker @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @books-over-boys @rusted-phone-calls @when-wax-wings-melt @cotyledon-tomentosa @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @stuff-is-way

On Ao3 or below the cut!

    Nothing worth mentioning happens in the next week. I mean, Fitz and I watched all of Phineas and Ferb, but that’s not exactly the most noteworthy thing that’s ever happened. 

    I wake up to a text from him. 

    Hey, Dex. I was just wondering if maybe you would want to come and try to get some information out of Alvar with me. 

    I sigh, But why?

    Fitz has been trying, and failing, to get information out of Alvar for over a month now. I really don’t know how he’s held himself together for this long. 

    Maybe the reason Alvar isn’t telling us anything is because he doesn’t know anything. 

    Because you’re really good at arguing. 

    …

    Honestly, that’s the best reason with which you’ve come up yet. 

   ��“Lovise, Fitz wants me to interrogate Alvar with him.”

    Deep sigh. 

    “Fine.”

    I’ll get my gadgets. See you in like ten minutes.

    See you. 

    I throw on some clothes with as many pockets as I can find, and fill them up with as many things as I can get in there. 

    Would it be wrong to bring a backpack with me with more gadgets? Just for more options?

    “That’s where you were,” I mutter, finding my pocket knife. 

     It’s not the most technologically advanced thing I’ve got in here, but it’s sharp and, honestly, it’ll be effective, should I need to use it.

    When I’m satisfied, I head over to the Leapmaster and leap to Everglen with Lovise. 

    It’s still a bit odd to leap there and not walk through the glowing gates to knock on the door. 

    “Hi. How have you been?” Fitz asks. 

    “You were at my house yesterday. How do you think I am?’’

    I cringe at how that sounds, but I have to keep myself in angry mode or we’re not going to get anywhere with Alvar. 

    Even if it’s going to be pointless, I might as well try. 

    Fitz simply gives me a thumbs up, like ‘okay we’re dealing with mean Dex. Got it’.

    “Where is this dirtbag?”

    Holding up a dark leaping crystal, he answers, “After you.”

    Magsidan? We’re going underground?

    I step through the cold light to find myself in a small, dark cave with no entry or exit except for the way we came. 

    Fitz hits a light switch, illuminating the room with sickly yellow light and the groans start immediately. 

    “So rude.” 

    Ruy demands, “Why are you here again for stars’ sake?”

    I mean, he didn’t say ‘stars’ but it conveys the same idea. 

    “I brought a friend.”

    There’s a slight edge on ‘friend’ that I might have imagined, but it makes me happy to know he’s still claiming me. 

    “What’s up? Remember me?” 

    “Are we supposed to be scared?” Alvar asks. 

    “All I’m going to say is ‘fear the Technopath.’” Fitz says.

    Sitting down across from Alvar, I say, “I’ve got a few options for us today. But let me first set the mood.” 

    I turn on the looped triplet recording of “Let it Go,” figuring it’d be just a little insanity-inducing. It might help. You never know. 

    Alvar sneers. “You look like an angry teddy bear.”

    Ignoring him, I give Fitz a pair of normal ear plugs without an explanation. Trusting he’s going to get them into his ears himself, I pop in my own pair. 

    I’ve modified one of my fancy ear plugs to be able to create sounds, not just to interfere with other sound waves, to run a little experiment. 

    When dealing with humans, sounds over eighty-five decibels can cause hearing damage over a long period, and over one hundred twenty can cause harm immediately. 

    Let’s see how resilient elvin ears are to loud sounds.

    So, starting with a nice, even one hundred, at five thousand hertz, because I watched a like ten second YouTube video going from twenty to twenty thousand hertz, to find the most annoying frequency I could find, and five thousand was perfectly horrible. 

    Also, I didn’t want to stress out the tech by making it play anything too difficult yet. 

   If I have to build another one of these things, my fingers will run away in protest. 

    As soon as I switch it on, Alvar tries to cover his ears with his hands, trapped on the table. Realizing that there’s no point, he presses his ear into his shoulder. 

    I wait for the triplet cover of “Let it Go” to end, at least the version burned into my memory, before I switch it off. 

    Taking an ear plug out, I ask, “Did that jog your memory?”

    All I get is an unimpressed glare. 

    “Thought so.”

    Ear plug in my ear. Device back on, louder. 

    I should be worried about what I’m doing to his hearing, but I can’t seem to care. 

    I wait for “Let It Go” to end again before turning it back off. 

    Ear plug out. “How about now?” 

    Loudly, Alvar says, “I don’t know anything. Why can’t you understand that?” 

    I hesitate just for a moment before playing my next card. I have a feeling it’ll be my best, or at least up there. 

    Standing up, I say, “Perhaps your boyfriend knows something.”

    “Wait. Wait.” Alvar hangs his head. “I know an identity.”

    Slowly, I sit back down. “Well. We’re waiting.”

    He debates with himself, choosing words carefully. “Our technopath is the same as yours for the Black Swan.”

    “We knew that. I literally mentioned it the last time I saw you. Try again.”

    “How--?”

    I stand up, a silent warning. 

    “Stop!” 

    I tap my fingers on the table, waiting for something. 

    “Are Neverseen secrets the only ones that count? Because I’ve got a dirty little Vacker one.”

    I raise an eyebrow at Fitz, waiting for confirmation, who still has his ear plugs in his ears. 

    At least I didn’t blow out his eardrums. 

    He takes an ear plug at my glance, and lets out a breath when his ears aren’t being attacked. 

    “Go ahead,” I decide. 

    Alvar sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m not a Vacker.”

    Fitz snorts. “That’s because we all hate you, dirtbag.”

    “What I mean is that Alden isn’t my father.”

    Well. That’s...interesting. 

    “Got anything else for us, or are you just going to leave it there?” I ask.  

    “Fitz, you know how Mum spent time with humans, right?”

    “Yeah, why?” 

     Oh, Fitzy. It’s almost like it’s difficult to figure out what he’s saying. 

     Taking out my DNA sensor built into my Imparter, I hold it in front of Alvar’s face, saying, “Lick it or I’ll find another way to get your DNA.”

    “Is this sterile?”

    I pull out my pocket knife I found today. “Is that really your biggest worry right now?”

    Maybe it was something in my tone or the fact that I’ve stated my intention to damage Ruy’s eardrums enough times that he’s considering it’s not an empty warning. 

    As soon as he takes the tiniest lick of the sensor, I say, “If this was just a wild goose chase, I’m going to turn this thing as loud as it can go and if we’re lucky, you’ll be able to hear your boyfriend’s screams through the wall.”

    I grab Fitz’s elbow, dragging him out of the room with me. 

    “What just happened back there?”

    “Alvar’s only your half brother, assuming he wasn’t lying to buy himself some time. He’s half human. That’s why nobody likes him and there’s such an age gap between you two, especially compared to you and Biana. And why he’s always had to work so hard to look as perfect as you two. At least he got your Mom’s ability to keep the suspicion off his parentage.”

    Fitz swears. 

    “Yeah.”

    “Do you think my Dad knows?”

    “How would I know?”

    He considers this for a second. 

    “How’d you do that?”

    “How’d I do what?” 

    “Get any information out of him!”

     “Alvar knows he doesn’t have long after the troll goo, although now I’m starting to question it, so I assumed he cares about preserving his own life less than the average person would. However, when your boyfriend defected from the Neverseen to basically take care of you, there’s a very exploitable weakness. So, you use that to your advantage and get information.”

     “Why do you have this skill set?”

    “One younger sibling, three younger siblings. You learn these things. Especially when one has taken something another one wants.”

    “And also where did this scary Dex come from? I know, I know. Preposition.”

    “Sorry about how I acted when I was at your house. Scary Dex, as you called him, was literally just me channeling Disney Villains so then anything I say can maybe be taken seriously.”

    “You very much achieved that.”

    “If you say so. Anyway, I’m going to get this spit sample to Elwin so he can analyze it to see if Alvar’s a massive liar.” 

    Fitz snorts. “He is but I’ll let you go confirm it.” 

    “We’re hoping he isn’t lying about this.”

    “We are?” 

    “No. We’re hoping I don’t have to live up to my word.”

    “Fine.”

    “Fitz?”

    “I won’t hurt either of them while you’re gone.”

    “Good Wonderboy.”

    “See you later.”

    “Bye!” Waving, I step into the faint beam of light from the magsidan crystal. 

    A leap back home and then to Foxfire later, I open the door to the Healing Centre, saying, “Hey, Elwin!”

    Maybe he’s off somewhere fixing Sophie or something.

    Checking his office, knowing he can get as focused into his work as I can, I ask, “Elwin?” 

    I find him making out with someone and I immediately feel bad. 

    Not like ‘ew’ bad but like ‘sorry, I’ll come back later’ bad. 

    Bright red, Elwin turns around and notices me. I’m obviously waving awkwardly. 

    “Dex? What are you doing here?” 

    “I needed some analysis on a DNA sample. It’s kind of a long story.”

    “I do this for you, and this never happened.”

    “It already didn’t.” 

    Elwin’s partner adds, “You have to understand, Dex. I’ll lose my job if this gets out.”

    It takes my mind a regrettable second to connect the dots. “Councillor Darek! I didn’t realize it was you. Don’t worry. I’ve gotten a lot of practice keeping secrets recently.”

    He’s mentally swearing right about now. 

    Wiping his smudged glasses and sighing, Elwin asks, “So what’s the long version of the story with the DNA?”

    “So, Fitz asked me to see if I could get information out of Alvar, because he still hasn’t gotten anything, and he essentially told us two things, one we already knew, and one that might be a lie. That’s where we need you. Alvar said he’s half human, and I got a spit sample so then you can run it to see if it’s purely elvin or not so much.”

    “Oh. Okay. It’s going to take a second,” Elwin says. 

    “You’re not even going to question any of this?” Councillor Darek asks. 

    Elwin replies, “Nope. This isn’t the weirdest random thing I’ve done for Sophie and her friends.”

    “Are we going to ask what information he already knew?” 

    I look at him, like ‘Yeah, no, you’re not going to be told that.’

    “Okay, fine. Don’t tell the Councillor. It’s almost like I can’t call a tribunal.”

    “You’d have to lie your way through explaining how you got into this conversation, so I doubt you’ll do that. But it was an identity of a member of the Neverseen we already figured out for ourselves. The Black Swan already knows.”

    Councillor Darek sighs, rubbing his temples. “Please tell me this person is in custody.”

    “They’re not. We’re seeing if they slip anything relating to the Neverseen’s future plans.” 

    I look at Lovise. “But someone won’t let me near the,.”

    “Why do I even ask?”

    Elwin comments, “At least he’s already willing to hide other things from a Councillor.”

    Councillor Darek grumbles, “Good point...Shut up.”

    “This ranks above that, actually. There’s no way I’m going to out either of you.”

    “Dare I even ask?” 

    I always have to define things for everyone. 

    “‘Out’ is derived from ‘coming out of the closet,’ a human phrase meaning to tell others you’re gay or bi or whatever.”

    “Why do you know this?” Councillor Darek asks. 

    I mean, I could blame Wikipedia. But Elwin already knows. And it would improve my trustworthiness in the matter. 

    “I spend way too much time trying to learn about human things on Wikipedia, which is a human thing where there are articles on almost everything. Also I’m gay so there’s that.”

    “Oh.”

    Elwin isn’t even surprised. Not in the slightest. 

    “Wait a minute! You knew?” Darek snaps at Elwin. 

    “It wasn’t my secret to share!” 

    They glare at each other for a few seconds before the analysis is done and Elwin has to break eye contact. 

    Cursing under his breath, Elwin points out the helpful information.

    “Well,” I say. “I guess Alvar wasn’t a liar today. I should tell Fitz before he does something he shouldn’t.”

    Hey Wonderboy. Alvar was telling the truth. Call off the attack.

    You’re no fun. Do you want to get some more information out of him?

    “Elwin?”

    “What now?” Councillor Darek asks.

    “How long should I wait before exposing someone to, I don’t know, sounds of one hundred decibels in three minutes at a time at five thousand hertz twice before doing it again?”

    I know technically the second wave was louder, but Elwin doesn’t need to know that. 

    “That’s oddly specific…” Councillor Darek says at the same time Elwin just keeps repeating, “Don’t, no Dex, no.”

    I broke Elwin. We better wait at least a week before doing it again. 

   Pathetic. Fine. 

    He won’t be able to hear you yelling at him if we don’t let his ears at least sort of recover. 

    I can live with that. 

    I know. Do you want the world to know about this new discovery?

    Honestly, I don’t give a verminion’s behind. 

    Okay. You’re sure?

    Yeah. Some Vacker Legacy this is shaping up to be.

   “With all of that settled, I’m going to leave you two.”

   “Hail Livvy the next time you need something.”

   “No, I don’t think I will. See you later.”

    I start heading out the door, with Councillor Darek and Elwin waving behind me. 

    The last thing I hear as the door closes is Councillor Darek ask, “What just happened?”

    Well, there was also a fair amount of swearing involved. 

    As I’m walking to the leapmaster for no discernible reason because I have my home crystal, I text Marella, Hey, Marella. I know we haven’t been the closest of friends but I need a favour. 

    I leap home and get to my room before she replies, What do you need?

    You’re the queen of gossip and I’ve got something good that I want shared. 

    I’m intrigued.

    Alvar is half human. Mother is Della but father is unknown. 

    Dang, really?

    I’ve got a DNA test here that confirms it. 

    That’s quite a scandal you’ve uncovered.

    Alvar literally told me earlier today. Easiest scandal ever. 

    He’s not dead yet? Huh.

    Apparently not. 

    Linh says hi. I’ve got to get back to training but I’ll see you sometime. 

    Wait. I’ve got another thing if you want it.

    Of course. 

    Keefe’s pan. His father has disowned him until he “comes to his senses.” Pan means, in his words, not mine, “Girls are hot, guys are hot, fight me.” Just if there are any questions. It’s not an official definition by any means but it works well enough. 

    Got it. Anything else you want the people to know?

    Not as of right this second that I can remember.

    Alright. I’ll get them circulating as soon as I can. See you sometime. Maybe. 

    See you. 

    I kind of wonder how long it has been since I’ve seen Marella and Linh. All I know is it’s been a while. 

    I should go visit them and Fintan sometime. 

#kotlc #detz #dex dizznee #fitz vacker #kotlc fanfic #and that concludes our wednesday morning specials for pride month #don't worry ill still post on saturdays #but it takes forever to format these so I'm not exactly sad to see that I have less work to do

[roscgcld]

ZEN’IN NAOYA || husband’s duty

request: omg if it is okay can i ask for a part 2 of sweet little things 🥲

note: you definitely can, love! honestly this definitely cracked my head a little since we didn’t get to explore naoya too much as a character, underneath all that complexity that makes him up as the man we saw in the manga. But I am not gonna sit here and say I do not simp for him AHAHAHA - that would be a huge lie. But we shall see, no? I feel like I made him too soft though, but I live for soft!Naoya - so do not touch me T^T 

part one

warning: suggestive scene throughout, but nothing happens really. just naoya being an ass lol

pronouns: she/her

A content sigh left Naoya’s lips as he leans back into the warm water of the bath, his eyes slowly sliding shut at the warmth that surrounds him. Today has been a long day on the office - with back to back meetings and piles of paperwork on his desk, he was just ready to land into his bed face first and sleep the evening away. 

“What do you want for your onigiri filling tomorrow? The farmers that produce that special rice you like sent a bag of rice to us earlier today.”

Your soft and sweet voice was what broke him out of his tranquil trance, yet he doesn’t find himself getting angry. Instead he hummed as he leans towards the direction of your voice, seeming to melt further in the steaming water when your soft hands immediately rest themselves against his broad shoulders. Fingers immediately getting to work on the knots that had started to build up since the afternoon. “Hmm...unagi filling sounds good.”

“I’ll make some for your bento tomorrow then,” You reassured him with a warm smile as you started to work through the knots on his shoulders, making sure to not accidentally dig your short but well kept nails into his skin. Whilst Naoya enjoys leaving marks of ownership all over your person, he does not appreciate having any scars left on his skin. And although he does not voice his disapproval, you know your husband well enough to know that unless he is in the mood, you should be careful about things like your nails scratching his skin. 

The idea of you making one of his favourite dishes for him, knowing that he has to deal with more paperwork and calls tomorrow has him smiling softly in response. He would not voice out how your little actions causes his usually cold heart to skip a beat; instead he just leans back a little when he heard you collecting some water from the tub with the wooden shower pale. Relishing in the feeling of the water being poured over his two-toned hair, along with your soft fingers gently running through the strands. 

Many people feel bad for you, since everyone knows what kind of man Naoya is. Everyone knows that he is nothing more but a skirt chaser, a man who views women as nothing an accessory to hang off his arm. Whose purpose is to provide strong heirs, and nothing more. You knew of the man even before you met him the first time on your family estate - listening to your older sister rant about how much of a myogenetic, rude, and disgusting excuse of a man Zen’In Naoya is. You’ve heard of the whispers from the other women whenever you would join a jujutsu event where the Zen’Ins would be in attendance. You knew that the moment both your fathers shook hands after Naoya shows great interest in you, your future was sealed to be with a man who seems to be every woman’s living nightmare.

And yet, for the last 4 months of marriage life, things have been...pleasant.

Naoya knew from the moment that he spoke to you that he needed to act ‘softer’ in order to gain your trust. That he cannot be his full self around you for at least the first month of your marriage in order to make him trust you; or until his patience runs thin from acting. 

However, even though he has promised himself that he will drop the act after the first month; here he is, 4 months into your new marriage. Still finding it almost natural for him to act softer and more...kinder around you. Maybe it is because he finds your personality just so soft and welcoming that it just...felt right to treat you differently. Maybe he is just trying to reason to himself that as his wife, you should be treated differently from the common folk outside of your private home; after all, as long as he keeps you happy, he can get away with pretty much anything. 

And yet...he has yet to find it in him to actually act like his usual self around you. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring you, or fearing that you’re scared of him. It’s laughable - how a man who was so self centered and only cared about himself and no one else, seemed to be so worried about what his wife thinks about him. He had reasoned to him that this is normal; that any husband would want their wife to fear them. 

But just...it was odd to him. How he chooses to act differently around you, and not feel like he is forced in any way.

His opened his eyes to take a peak at you when his thoughts start to wonder, scanning over your concentrated features as you carefully worked the shampoo through his hair. Somehow just seeing you so focused on making sure that he was enjoying his bath had his heart skipping a beat; something that would have scared him if it were to happen with anyone else. 

Yet, instead he found himself letting a small but genuine smile tug against the corners of his lips, one that immediately catches your attention as you carefully wash the studs from his hair. “What got you so happy, my love?,” You asked him curiously as you carefully ran your fingers through his hair, making sure that all the studs were gone. Instead of answering he just reached his hand up to grab your wrist in his gently, pressing a soft kiss against the inside of your wrist. 

Naoya isn’t a man to convey his emotions often. He doesn’t necessarily view emotions as weak; he just sees no reason to show others around him how he feels unless it brings him some form of advantage. Other then that, he just puts up an arrogant and unbothered front for the most part. But with you...well, you were different. You are his wife, and in order to be a good husband, he needs to show you that he is willing to show you what is underneath his mask. Or so, he thinks that is what he needs to do. 

The feeling of Naoya’s lips against your skin send a set of shivers down your spine, your eyes shyly glancing away from his handsome face as you felt the tips of your ears warm up. Just seeing how bashful you were about something as small as showing you emotion had him smirking against your wrist, immediately wanting to see just how far he can push his luck. 

And he knows exactly what to do. “Get in the bath with me.”

You immediately snapped your shocked eyes back at your husband in shock, immediately feeling your cheeks warm at how he was staring at you expectantly. Although you’ve seen each other naked before, with him being so obsessed of having an heir of his own - it would be a surprise if you haven’t see him naked in all his glory. It wasn’t like he was bad to look at either - from all the training puts himself through to perfect his Technique, you would be lying to say that you’ve never stared at his strong back or broad shoulders whenever you two are alone. 

It was just...so sudden. And you immediately knew what his intensions were, yet you just pouted softly as you quietly pulled yourself up from the steps you were seated on. Just seeing the soft pout tugging against the corner of your lips had Naoya biting back a smile as he watches you strip from your kimono, carefully folding the expensive fabrics to the side. 

Soon you carefully made your way up the wooden steps of the traditional bathtub, thanking your husband quietly as he held a hand out to help you into the tub. You awkwardly knelt down between Naoya’s knees, still a little nervous to touch him even though he was the one who invited you into the bath with him. Naoya found your fear quite amusing, and without missing a beat he grabbed your hand in his before he pulls you close; chuckling at the squeak you let out when you landed against his bare chest. 

“Don’t need to be so scared, my wife,” Naoya mumbles with a smirk, hands trailing down your soft back to relish the goosebumps that appear on your skin; his eyes glancing away from your shocked face to your fists resting against his chest.  “After all...if there is one person worthy enough to be by my side, it will be you,” He mumbles, hands that seem even warmer than the water surrounding you two resting on the small of your back.

A combination from his soft touches, to his overly sweet but frank words had your face burning up once more as you whine and bury your face into his neck, your actions causing Naoya to let out a soft but genuine peel of laughter come from his chest. “Did I startle you?,” Naoya asks in amusement, already knowing the answer to that question. Yet he wanted for you to answer the question yourself, since he lives for seeing you getting embarrassed over the smallest of interactions with him.

You fluttered your eyes close to try and calm you rapid heartbeat, yet you nodded your head gently to answer his question. “A-A little..,” You mumble back quietly against his skin, heart skipping a beat a little at Naoya’s soft chuckle that he breathed against the shell of your ear. Naoya did not want to admit it, but he finds this subconsciously clingy side of you quite endearing. Whilst he hates it when others touch him, even if they grazed him by accident; he does not mind it when it’s you.

Maybe he has gone a little insane after marriage. 

After you’ve managed to gather your wits, you quietly pulled away from him before you reached back to grab the wash towel you had grabbed from earlier, Naoya curiously opened one of hi eyes when you shifted against his chest. Just having you pressed up against his chest, along with the warm water surrounding him had lulled him into a tranquil and sleepy state. But he didn’t stop you as you wet the wash towel before you carefully lathered his body wash into the fabric. 

Quietly you started to wash his body like you would usually every night, yet this time it was a little different since now you were in the bath with him. Something that he has never really allowed before, since he views his bath time as his personal time. You would usually help him bathe before you leave the bathroom to prepare for bed and whatever wifely duties you need to fulfil for the night. 

But if you were being honest, as you carefully washed your husband clean, you did not mind a change to your routine. Yet you did not voice your inner thoughts as you continue gliding your hands over Naoya’s arms, making sure to keep quiet to give him the silence he enjoys whenever he’s in the bath. However, Naoya was in the mood to talk today. 

Whilst you were carefully washing his chest, Naoya’s hands started to wander along your body once more once more. “So, what did you get up today whilst your husband was out at work?”

You blinked up at your husband curiously, to which he just raised an eyebrow in response at the look you threw his way. “Can a husband not know what his wife gets up to when he slaves away at his desk?,” Naoya asks with a soft raise of his brow, his words causing you to widen your eyes as you shake your head immediately. Not wanting him to think that you’re questioning his authority. “O-Of course not! I-I just...thought...you’d like some quiet in your alone time..”

A soft sigh was your only response, to which you awkwardly looked away from your husband’s eyes to stare at his hard chest; worried that you’ve angered the man. “You know...I want to hear about your day too,” Naoya mumbles after a few tensed seconds of silence, a finger gently crocking under your chin to coax your eyes to look up at him. He did not have a smile on his serious face, yet there was a soft look shining in his usually hard eyes. “I get curious sometimes when I have time to breath...what does my beautiful wife do at home when I am away? Does she miss me? Does she take the free time she gets to pretend that she is not my wife? What could you be possibly be doing when I am away from home..?”

When you heard his words, you tilted your head softly as you scanned his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his message. He wasn’t dumb - he was more than aware of the whispers of the maids that thought he was not around, how people feel bad for you that you are married to a man like him. He honestly doesn’t care what others have to say about him - he never cared about what others have to say about him. Because he knows that when they need power or need something to get done, they will always turn to him with fake smiles and praise dripping from their tongues.

However, he was genuinely worried about you - he was worried that the whispers of his past will start to scare you away. Make you think that you are an idiot for marrying a man like him, and slowly but surely take you away from him. For once he was worried that you are going to leave him, because for once in his life, he finally understand what it truly means to be home. The very thought of you leaving him shakes him down to his very core, and he will do everything in his power to prevent that from becoming his reality.

“I don’t...think like that, you know.”

Your soft voice snapped his train of thought as he glances back into your eyes, blinking when your soft hands rest against his cheeks gently with a soft smile gracing your features. “I knew the type of man you were before you came to my family estate that day, and I have heard of all the rumours of your attitude even whilst you were courting me. But that didn’t change my decision because I genuinely enjoyed having you around.”

Your words had Naoya widening his eyes as his mind went blank at your confession. And seeing your usually stoic and arrogant husband looking stunned had you giggling as your thumbs started to stroke at his high cheekbones. “Yes, you may be a little colder and stricter then I am used to, but you are still a good man. You’ve been nothing but a good husband to me, and far from the rumours paint you to be. So don’t worry too much about my thoughts on our marriage, because I am nothing but happy to be your wife.”

Quietly you gently tugged his face close, resting his forehead against yours with a smile. “I know that you grew up in a different world from I did, and that you were brought up with different morals from mine. But I also know you’re trying for me, and that is more than enough for me at the end of the day.” You mumble softly, revealing to him that you were more observant than you let on. Yet you faked ignorance for his sake because you genuinely cared for him as a person. “Because at the end of the day, a wife is knows all of her husband’s sides the best.”

For once Naoya was completely stunned into silence, having never expected for you to be so candid about your feelings. Your response to his stunned silence was a quiet giggle as you lean forward to press a soft kiss against the tip of his nose. The feeling of your warm and soft lips snapped him back into reality, and upon realising how close you were, his pale cheeks flushed up from embarrassment. Immediately one of his hands pulled itself away from where they were resting against your bare hips to cover his cheeks with the back of his hand, eyes darting away as he leans away from you immediately.

“I-I want to get out of the bath now...”

You let out a giggle at the sight of your husband so out of character, yet you made no other comment as you nodded with a smile. “Lets get ready for bed then, my love,” You hummed out as you carefully got out to grab the towels for the both of you, biting back your smile at how cute you find him to be as you dried yourself before you did the same for him. 

It was only later into the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep when Naoya really calmed down. You had long fallen asleep, face tucked away underneath his chin whilst your arms wrapped around him loosely. He knows he needed to sleep in order to function properly tomorrow, but his mind has been racing the moment you two got out of the bath to prepare for bed together.

He still cannot wrap his head around the idea that you willingly stay, even knowing that there is a chance you might see a less ideal version of himself. You choose to stay knowing all of the rumours about him and his, admittedly, horrendous behaviour and morals. And whilst he does not know what was it that he did that had you landing in his life, he is 100% sure he will never let you go.

Quietly he presses a soft kiss against the top of your head, a soft but content sigh leaving his lips as he closes his eyes to try and get some sleep before his alarm would go off later. Signaling to a start of another long and boring day away from you once more. 

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me,” He mumbles softly into the quiet bedroom, a soft admission to you whilst you’re far away in dreamland, dreaming of things unknown to him. But the least he can pray for is that he wouldn’t become the enemy in your nightmares.

Because at the end of the day, it’s a husband’s duty to protect the happiness of their wife from the evils of the world. Even if the biggest evil in their lives is themselves. As long as he is your husband, you will have nothing to fear.

He will make sure of it.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen naoya #naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya zenin #zenin naoya #naoya minegishi #naoya zenin x reader #naoya imagines #naoya x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x you #naoya zenin imagines #jujutsu kaisen naoya zenin #jujutsu kaisen naoya x reader #naoya zenin x you #naoya zenin x reader imagines #naoya zenin x reader romance #naoya x reader romance

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS PT. 2

The first part did really really so I decided to make a second part of sambucky fic recs. Just as the last one: the fics are split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. CHECK OUT PART ONE HERE All fics are completed and all are on AO3. 

BASED ON TFATWS

The Truths Beneath Our Ribs | Mature | 6,742 words

5 times Bucky wears Sam's things +1 time Sam wears something of Bucky's

anything you can do, i’ll do you better | Explicit | 5,526 words

Steve is going to kill them if they don't learn to get along, but did they have to take it so far?

making amends | Explicit | 8,645 words

“Not Cap yet,” Sam said. He looked a little ruefully at his hands, which were covered in nicks and cuts. He could already feel his palms bruising from that last shield catch, but at least nothing was broken this time.

“I respect that,” Bucky said slowly. Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. Bucky flexed and unflexed the vibranium fingers of his left hand, a nervous habit that Sam had clocked ages ago. “And you’re right.”

“Thanks, I know.” Sam waited a beat. “About what?”

Muscle Memory | 3 parts | Explicit | 13,156 words part 1: Muscle Memory | Teen | 1,766 words

Barnes sighs, and it’s a deep, soul-weary thing. “Maybe no one ever told you this, but I’m telling you right now. You don’t have any obligation to care about me because Steve did. You don’t have to pretend.”

Sam blinks, taken aback. He has to think, really think, about what he says next, because it’s - it’s either going to build or break something.

You’re My World | Explicit | 6,585 words

“I… oh, I get it now.” Sam tilted his head, perceptive as ever, goddammit. “All this flirting with my sister, that was just to get my attention, wasn’t it? I know it was. Say it.”

“That wasn’t—” Bucky croaked, but Sam wasn’t having it.

He huffed a low laugh, and bulldozed right through Bucky’s feeble pretense. “You like it when I pin you against the wall? Take away all that power you have, that strength that your arm gives you? Make you feel small, maybe?”

Call Me By Your (Pet) Name | Teen | 6,928 words

“You got a list of the nicknames available to us lesser mortals?” Sam continued, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him. “The ‘you’re not Steve Rogers, so don’t even think about it’ collection?”

“Yeah, sure, there’s a list,” Bucky replied, pausing long enough to draw a pointed look from Sam. “Bucky,” he finished, gesturing broadly with his arm to convey the obviousness of the answer.

5 times Sam and Bucky used pet names as a joke + 1 time they used them in earnest

That’s not very gunkle of you | 2 parts | 4,325 words part 1: Bestie Vibes Only | Teen | 1,822 words

“What’s buzzin’ cousin?” Says Bucky, sitting down next to Sam on the docks.

That’s the moment that Sam realizes he needs to change tactics, no more subtly looking up definitions for his weird old person slang, it’s time to fight fire with fire.

“Not much bro, this view is highkey just hitting different TBH” he says, casually looking out at the water.

There’s a beat of silence and then,

“That’s swell doll, I just ate some four-o cackle jelly with side arms, and I’m looking for some kicks, you dig?

Oh, this means war.

misunderstandings | Not Rated | 3,167 words

Sam thinks Sarah and Bucky had a date, and he's Not Okay

you walked into my life to offer me a better view | Teen | 2,534 words

He was standing twenty feet away at the edge of the docks, chatting with Sarah, and Sam couldn't take his eyes away. Bucky's smile was warm, wide, and when he tipped his head back and laughed, his nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling at the corners, Sam could feel it vibrate straight to his heart.

falling, falling, flying | Teen | 2,778 words

Bucky had kissed him.

And Sam had pulled away, because that beautiful golden sunset made Bucky’s hair gleam with the faintest touch of blond, that rare summer breeze hissed like a dying missile past Sam’s ears, the kiss was so familiar, too familiar, and Sam was falling, falling—

(“Let yourself be happy, Sam. Please.”)

lonely boy, you are my world (and i could be anything you need) | Teen | 5,747 words

It all starts with Sam, a shelter, and this sweet kitten that reminded him far too much of a certain century-old, grouchy super soldier.

too dangerous to fall | Explicit | 3,466 words

Bucky Barnes is a one-armed menace. He has murder eyes and no care for basic safety protocols. His jokes are terrible and his bad moods are worse. He’s a godawful roommate who leaves his wet towels on the floor and his combat knives in the linen cabinet. Sam can’t stand the sight of him.

What happens in Louisiana | General | 3,478 words

But just then, in the engine room of the Wilson family boat, away from prying eyes, it felt like something they both needed. The closeness. The warmth.

Steve would laugh at them. Two grown men not being able to get it together. He would roll his eyes at Buck, nudge him with his elbow and tell him “you’re sweet on Sam Wilson so make a move already, punk.”

keep the ashes from my heart (and walk away) | Explicit | 4,412 words

“Jamie asked me out on a date,” Sam says. Bucky swallows. “Took him long enough,” he says, keeping his tone light. He bumps their shoulders together for good measure. “You should go for it.” “You really think so?” Sam asks, looking at him. “Yeah, man,” Bucky says. He fixes his gaze on Torres, high up in the sky, sunlight glinting off his wings. It hurts Bucky’s eyes. He blinks, rapidly. “You should be with somebody who can make you happy.”

(In which Sam starts dating someone who is not Bucky, and Bucky pines, gets seriously injured, and proves himself wrong.)

Hey Samuel | Teen | 3,223 words

"Bucky."

"Yeah?" He looked up eyes wide. Did he say something out loud?

"We're walking the wrong way."

"Oh." Right. Um. "Let's get ice cream."

"I don't know about you, man, but if I eat ice cream in this weather I will get sick."

Bucky was at a loss for words. What now?

OR Ride along Bucky's journey of figuring out when exactly did he fall for Sam Wilson.

Anyday, everyday | General | 6,735 words

He moved his head and locked eyes with Sam. "D'you- can you.. help me cut my hair?" He asked. He forced himself to look away, feeling embarrassed for asking him to come all this way just to give him a haircut.

His stomach dropped when he felt Sam let go of his hand to stand up. Of course he was about to leave. Who wouldn't want to leave Bucky?

"C'mon, Buck. Let me cut your hair." Bucky's eyes snapped up to Sam's. He had a small smile on his face and his hand was reaching out, waiting for Bucky to take it.

Or; the five times Bucky fell more and more in love with Sam, and the one time he finally got the guts to tell him.

If You’ll Have Me | Teen | 4,779 words

Sam casually shrugged, although there was an intent look in his eyes, "Yeah, well it's getting late and I didn't feel like flying anymore so I was wondering if your old man self is okay with-"

"You can stay here." Bucky quickly finished for him.

I like Bucky, Sam I am | Not Rated | 2,653 words

"I would kiss you on the boat. Or in Wakanda by your goats."

Static in the Dark | Teen | 4,989 words

So prompt idea, some bad guy follows Bucky to the docks for revenge (over whatever you can decide) and Sarah gets to see how protective Bucky really is over Sam when he gets in the line of fire

CANON DIVERGENCE

A Different Kind of Problem | Explicit | 7,616 words

“Do you know what it feels like to be insatiable?”

Two months ago, an interrogation gone wrong left Sam with Bucky’s explicit words seared into his brain and body.

Now, Bucky is living in the Avengers Compound, making pancakes and wearing Steve’s huge sweatshirts, fluffy haired and a little shy, seemingly completely content to be on house arrest — and Sam has never been more confused. Whatever Steve thinks, Sam doesn’t have a problem with Bucky. This domesticity is just so at odds with the feral sexuality Bucky had used to rattle Sam during his interrogation. Where did that side of Bucky go? And why can’t Sam stop thinking about finding it? Maybe Sam does have a problem with Bucky… it’s just not the problem Steve thinks it is.

Bucky’s Choice | Not Rated | 4,753 words

When Bucky enters Westview to try to help Wanda Maximoff, he is confronted with something he never expected- Steve Rogers, back from the dead and ready to start a life with Bucky in Westview. It's everything that Bucky ever wanted, everything that Steve abandoned when he went back in time to live his life with Peggy Carter. But Bucky and Sam have been involved for months, and Sam is waiting for Bucky outside of the Hex. Bucky has to make a choice- the life he always wanted with Steve, or a new start with Sam?

tonight i’ll need you to stay | General | 2,227 words

For once, Bucky wants to stop leaving when things are finally looking up. And he wants people to stay with him, too.

(or, 3 times bucky needed an excuse to stay with sam, and the one time he didn't)

How to Win a Supersoldier in Ten Days | Explicit | 14,901 words

When they realize that all the Winter Soldier's interactions with Sam are just him trying to Awkward MurderBot Flirt (TM) with the sexy man, Steve, Tony, and Nat convince Sam to play the honeypot and bring Bucky in.

Sam's pretty sure the honeypot isn't supposed to fall in love with the target, but what can you do?

at the end of the war (what’s mine is yours) | Mature | 4,290 words

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

warm blood (feels good, i can’t control it anymore) | Explicit | 4,492 words

Sam's just chilling watching TV one evening when Bucky comes in and stares at him silently for a minute or two before sitting down on the couch. He's pretty close to Sam.

Okay, he's really close to Sam. Like, Sam would be using the word 'cuddling' if it wasn't so bizarre.

"What," he says, carefully not looking at Bucky, and Bucky huffs a sigh.

"Steve's not here," he says as if it's obvious. "Don't make it weird. Just- shut up."

Caught With Their Pants Down | Explicit | 3,539 words

“Sam, this guy is not coming, the intel was false,” Bucky replied. “I get this whole ticking boxes and what not, but Rogers got it wrong, and for the love of God I need a fucking toilet.”

“You need to learn to plan your water intake better, is what you need. You’re a damn fool and I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“Because you love me,” Bucky replied, and Sam could hear the smile in his voice.

“In your damn dreams, Barnes.”

They’d been fucking for about six months, but Sam didn’t want Bucky to go getting a big head about it.

AU

sharp teeth, soft heart | 3 parts | 17,866 words part 1: you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) | Explicit | 12,444 words 

It’s inevitable, the way it goes. He’s my friend, Steve says, and he is, he is, he must be. Sam’s best friend is Steve, and Steve’s best friend is a werewolf, that’s just how Sam’s life works now.

But once he realizes he’s attracted to Bucky and Bucky can tell, everything becomes, like, a thousand percent more difficult to negotiate. Sam’s just trying to live his life, that’s all, and he keeps getting confronted by Bucky Barnes in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair all soft and shiny. Bucky glances over at him and smirks, and this is really very embarrassing, how Sam can’t hide his attraction even if he keeps a totally straight face.

I’m so into you I can barely breathe | Explicit | 6,515 words

Sam Wilson had a long day dealing with morons, so he decided to finally go to the famous club in town. There he meets someone who just might get him back in a good mood. And then some.

twelve ounce steak (boxers in briefs) | Explicit | 3,753 words

Sam has pretty lips. Bucky seems to think so, too.

caught it bad (i’ll be on the way) | Mature | 4,830 words

Sam constantly gets roped into doing dumb things with Steve, but this time, it works out perfectly for him.

meet me in the a.m. | Teen | 3,147 words

Steve accidently starts a fire and Bucky's tired. When unbelievably hot firefighter Sam saves the day, though, he can't really be that mad.

i wanna savour, save it for later | Not Rated | 6,419 words

"It's his damn ratings, man," Sam says. "It's weird 'cause when you read the reviews, he seems to like our food and all. Nothing but praise for days. And then you get to the rating, and it's always the same. Three goddamn stars."

Bucky tips his beer bottle from side to side, lips pursing slightly. "I see. And that's… a bad thing?"

"We are not a three-star joint," Sam says flatly.

Or, the one where food truck owner Sam gets caught up in his quest to unmask an anonymous food blogger. Falling for one of his regulars was never on the menu.

we were a fire with no smoke | Explicit | 15,295 words

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows | Teen | 9,042 words

When Sam Wilson inherits the manor of the old man he once took care of, it feels like his luck is finally looking up. It's an opportunity for a fresh start, something he's in desperate need of. When he arrives, however, it becomes clear that an easy transition into estate living is not exactly a possibility. The house is run-down, nothing like Sam remembers it, and the groundskeeper — who Sam apparently has to share the house with, wants nothing to do with him.

You Smiled Because You Knew | Teen | 3,754 words

"You've got the wrong address," the man who'd answered growled. He had long, scraggly hair that had mostly escaped his attempts to pull it away from his face. He had nice eyes, and wouldn't have been unattractive, especially with a shave, except for the scowl. "Nobody here wants or needs your . . . services."

It was apparent by the tone the man did not appreciate Sam's hard work.

Well, that was tough shit.

#marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #tfatws #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic rec #fic recs #usermarcy #usersof #usersmile #usersamanne #sambucky fanfic #tusersammy #tusernini #my fic recs

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually�� that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] Akira Hanami Reward 4* Card Story

(note: For this year’s hanami show Akira and Rindou got to choose their own shuffle teams to perform with)

chapter 1 -rehearsal room-

mokuren: We’re better off not gathering together at this part, don’t you think leader?

akira: Uhh, yeah. I think that’s fine, probably.

mokuren: You are our leader right now aren’t you? Get it together.

akira: Yeah yeah.

-time pass-

menou: Hey leader, don’t you think the nuance of this line would be conveyed more clearly after a short pause?

akira: Ah, yeah maybe? Let’s go with what you want Menou.

menou: Sigh… you’re pretty lax aren’t you Akira. Did you even properly consider what I said?

akira: Of course of course.

-time pass-

akira: Sigh… I’m exhausted.

kei: What’s the matter, Akira? Everything we’re doing should be as according to your orders.

akira: Uh, yeah I guess so but… It’s way too much of a pain having everyone come up and ask me questions. I thought I said I’d left the directing up to you.

kei: You did indeed leave the directing of the performance up to me, however the vision we are presenting is yours alone, Akira. The person who has the final say is the team’s leader. Who is there to ask other than you in that case.

akira: That is true but like… Is being the team leader always like this, Kei?

kei: Indeed, what you’re managing now is not even the full extent of what the job is usually like.

akira: You’re kidding me, count me out. If that’s the case then I’m fine with simply being the singer my whole life.

-yakou walks in-

yakou: Sigh…

kei: You’ve arrived making a face just like Akira’s.

akira: Oh hey Yakou, good work today~

yakou: Yeah, thanks, you too.

akira: You let out a mighty sigh there, did something happen? Trouble at your company perhaps?

yakou: Exactly that, it’s about the cherry blossom viewing table I was told to book, due to circumstances at the company it’s being called off.

akira: How tragic, so then what are you gonna do?

yakou: After this I’ll ring up the place to cancel, it’s just, the booking was made for tonight…

akira: Ahh, that’s tricky… Wait, by the way, how many people did you book the seating for?

yakou: Hm? It was just my group so it was 8 people.

akira: Say, Kei, I just came up with genius idea.

kei: Sigh… While I have no interest in what it is you’re thinking I’ll hear you out just to be sure.

-

chapter 2 -cherry blossom viewing area-

akira: Does everyone have a drink? Alright then, let’s have a toast to Saki-chan!

saki: Wait why me!? It’s embarrassing so please don’t…!

kei: Hm, I thought it was a splendid idea though.

saki: Even you Kei-san…

-time pass-

akira: How is it, are you enjoying yourself?

saki: Yes! The cherry blossoms at night look so beautiful. Thank you for inviting me.

akira: You’re very welcome. I did my best so that I could see them at night with you.

mokuren: Don’t go taking the credit for yourself, Yakou’s the one that booked these seats.

menou: We all know that you changed your focus to coming here because you hated practice, Akira.

akira: That’s not the case at all, ok, listen up. What is it that our team lacks?

mokuren: A leader that dances with purpose.

menou: A leader that comprehends acting?

akira: Haa… completely incorrect. Kasumi, you tell ‘em.

kasumi: Uhh, it’s teamwork… right?

akira: Bingo! And what is it that you need in order to achieve teamwork? Over to you, Unei.

unei: Yes! Eating and drinking together boosts engagement between everyone!

akira: Exactly! It’s just like that. Those that are doing their part for society sure do get it huh~

mokuren: Rude.

menou: Yeah, I mean you’re just like us too Akira.

akira: Don’t sweat the details. Today Saki-chan is here with us too, so it’s time for Team Akira to deepen our bonds of friendship. That’s an order from your leader!

unei: How nice Akira-san, I can really sense your leadership!

kei: He’s in a good mood.

akira: Oh right Kei, I’m sooo sorry but could you take all our trash over to the bin for us?

kei: …Very well. If it’s an order from the leader then I must oblige.

saki: (Kei-san’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes…)

akira: Mokuren and Kasumi, you two go and get us some more alcohol! I’m counting on you~

mokuren: Tch.

kasumi: Sure thing~

akira: Wow, it sure is fun being the leader, it’s the best!

menou: A practical one aren’t you, Akira.

yakou: It’s just like him. It’s thanks to Akira that I didn’t have to cancel these great seats though, I’m glad.

saki: The cherry blossoms are only in bloom for a short amount of time too, so I’m happy we came at such a time.

akira: Exactly! Their blooming period is short so why wouldn’t you want to enjoy them right now.

menou: Akira would be enjoying himself even if we weren’t surrounded by cherry blossoms though right?

akira: Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow, with that, how about we get this party started!

—end

#bsts akira #bsts translation

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 09 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok;

length: 5.5k;

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Moonlight bellows in the background of the warm, golden-lit room—crashing and seceding, crashing and seceding, repeatedly colliding against the jagged rocks by the cliff like tidal waves out at sea in the deep sway of the black night. Under the hypnosis of the jet-black skies absent of the charming twinkling of the stars, you had somehow stumbled through the retreat to your room. You aren’t exactly sure what you had seen—and perhaps, out of consideration for your well-being, you simply don’t want to nor need to comprehend your sightings—but the glutinous image of the broken boy sticks to your chest akin to a dark secret weighing heavy on a sinner’s heart.

And somehow, amidst the long night looming ahead of you, the spur of emotions sweeps you before the door of his room.

Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat and whisper hesitantly next to the wooden frame, “...Hoseok?”

In the red-carpeted hall where dozens of fellow camp attendees rest until the next sunrise, you stand there wondering if Jimin had mistyped the captain’s room number on the emergency flyers. The overwhelming guilt of having pushed Hoseok to his breaking point, albeit unknowingly, had forced the heavy footsteps of yours to this very spot, but now that you’re faced with silence as an answer, you figure perhaps it isn’t in your fate to confront him tonight; it would be the easier way out, at least, for irrationality had bewitched you and plans on what to even say were the last things on your mind… until now.

Subconsciously, your knuckles meet the cold wax finish of his door once again.

One knock, two knocks, and alas, a sigh.

Your hands drop to your sides in defeat, despite regretting your rash decision which had brought you here in the first place. You glimpse around to ensure that the coast was clear, and when the last sigh escapes your lips and the balls of your feet pivot to your left, only then does the door swing wide open.

“What do you want?”

Whirling around, you find Hoseok standing aside where one arm leans against the door frame and the other hides behind the door, clutching the gold handle. As you gaze at him in silence, too taken aback to make your next move, Hoseok stands there, heavy-lidded and jaws clenched, disgruntled by your late night appearance.

The uninviting glare of his elicits the uncomfortable shift in place of your footsteps. It’s a rare moment for goosebumps to rise and chest to constrict when in the presence of someone as playful and flirtatious as Hoseok, but the sudden cold mien of his persona now conveys to you that you’re not welcome here tonight.

“I… I was just…” your eyes dart to the floor as your mind crashes into auto-pilot, searching for any form of excuse other than the truth too unready to be exposed, “I couldn’t fall asleep. So—”

“—you could’ve texted me,” he refutes, brows furrowing, but all your eyes are fixated on are what appears to be beads of sweat dripping from his damp bangs. And when he notices the softening of your wandering eyes, his voice nearly drowns in the waves of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the buzz of the vending machine which shrills in your eardrums to this very second.

From the tee which drapes his upper body and his sweatpants which masks the witnessed scene weighing heavy in your heart, everything about him now would serve as the perfect facade of a normal captain disturbed from his sleep. But at least he's still up, at least he's still trying, at least he answered your call.

You want to believe he’s okay again, that everything you had seen was just a misunderstanding, but something tells you the sun won't be rising again after tonight, and that very thought plagues you of your sleep.

A few seconds pass as you scan him over in a confusing mixture of both disbelief and relief, when Hoseok half scoffs and half chuckles, frowning at your expression, “is something bothering you? You look like you're almost glad to see me for once.”

“...why are you sweating?” you blurt, his words completely missing you as your eyes fixates on the beads of liquid plastered across his temples and trapped in his brows.

“Sweat…?” Hoseok arches a concerned brow before pressing his lips into a thin line. “This isn't sweat… I just got out of the shower. What makes you think that, though?”

Your lips part, but silence ensues when you realize neither you nor him seemed prepared enough to tackle the true reason as to why you're here.

“Nothing… really. It was just the first thing which came to mind.”

Hoseok nods, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the conversation comes to an abrupt end. “So…” he drawls, “what do you need?”

“I didn't need anything, per se,” you emphasize, eyes averting to the side and away from his watchful gaze, “I just… wanted to talk. I didn't get to talk to you much today.”

Usually, at a point like this, Hoseok would tease you; “someone's a bit needy today, and I know you're pure and untainted and all, but shouldn't you at least know not to come begging for attention to a guy's room at midnight”—is what he would've said, but tonight, the tidal waves under the wavering moon dictates otherwise.

“Look, Y/N,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans his entire weight against the doorframe, “I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. I want to be alone.”

But does he? Because the gleam in his softened eyes, the windows to his soul, are begging you to accompany him through the long night.

“Are you… okay, Hoseok?” you ask, brows cinching in concern.

He flinches, but his brows immediately lift to mask the initial response. “...yeah,” he finally says after a long pause, taking a deep breath and sighing, eyes never budging from yours, “...I'm fine. Now go sleep if you're done badgering me.”

“Okay… you should sleep, too.”

“Yeah,” he utters under his breath, eyes glued to the ground as he mumbles, “I'll try.”

“Try…?”

“I have a lot of things on my mind and decisions to make tonight,” he explains with a final sigh, the void in his eyes lifting to meet yours once again, and you don't notice until now the purple-blue dark circles which only emphasizes the absence of his usual vigor. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

And ever so quietly, as if none of the conversation had taken place under the mist of the night perched high up on the mountains, the door closes on you, and the walls between you and Hoseok become thicker than ever.

You can't tell what's on his mind. You can't even tell what's on your own mind. All you can convey is the sheer dejection, the unusual lethargy radiating from Hoseok akin to a captain too prideful to allow his pupils to witness his own cracks and falls.

You're partially responsible for this—no, somehow your mind had convinced you that you're the one completely responsible for this. If you hadn't pushed him to return, maybe things wouldn't have gotten this far. You had reopened a wound like ripping stitches off a gash still in the process of rehabilitation.

And sometimes, wounds of seconds can inflict more pain than its first and leave deeper scars than the past itself.

You're guilty as charged, and you want to fix things now, but the unwelcoming tone of tonight's conversation tells you it might just be too late. If you've acknowledged your mistakes but the other is unwilling to receive your sympathy, what else are you supposed to do?

You had hated the new Hoseok for laying the death of the old, but now that you stand here before his guarded walls and closed door, maybe things would've been better the way they were before.

But that thought finds you as ridiculous, and the very fact that a part of you still wants to aid him in rediscovering your first love at the expense of the person he is now, finds you even more horrendous.

For now, a shower is the only concoction for such a plague.

-

Water beads drip from the ends of your hair to the cottons of the white towel hanging from your neck. A rush of goosebump inducing air envelops you the second your right foot meets the carpet beyond the bathroom tiles. Besides the remaining drip drops of the water draining in the bathtub behind you, all that is left in the sanctuary of your room is what should have been silence.

Because you can still hear the buzz of the vending machine, the familiar squeaks of sneakers, and worst of all, his wincing breaths endowed with despair still echo in the back of your mind—gradually quickening and crescendoing into a chaos of a symphony without its conductor until everything collapses, the squeaks and the huffs replaced by the ominous buzz of the machine.

As you run through your hair and turn your back on the door to further bury yourself in the depths of your sanctuary, a sudden rise of events interrupts the temporary serenity with the strike of fear into your racing heart.

A series of slurred knocks—two loud, quick knocks followed by one hesitant bump of the knuckles—elicits a ring in your ear as you cautiously turn on the balls of your feet to face the door head on.

The numbers 1:15 A.M. blink in red digital font from the desk beside your bed.

Who could possibly be visiting you at this time of the night?

“Y/N?”

The familiar voice strained with lethargy finally announces after a sigh, and as if reciting words to a spell of witch craft, your heart stills and your body freezes… because did you really just hear Hoseok? Outside your room? The one who had just turned you away without a blink of the eye?

Even with the mess of your mental state after finally digging up the answer you had been searching for all along, the only and greatest fear which plagues you now is the thought of whether the victim, Jung Hoseok, had somehow caught onto you preying upon his darkest of secrets.

After half a minute of silence, Hoseok sighs once again with a groan, “I’m not here to mess around with you if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m on duty for patrolling tonight, and I noticed your light was on. Now open up, would you?”

The walk to your door seems to take you centuries, because the second your hand pushes the handle even an inch down, the door swings wide open to reveal the rather irritated, profusely impatient boy standing on the other side.

“Could you be any slower?” he remarks, eyes peering down at you, unamused. “You’re even slower than me and I worked out more than…”

His white tee shifts underneath his crossed arms as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. The intensity of his eyes with bags and dark circles drooping below elicits a shift in your own body of discomfort. Your own eyes retreat to the ground when his brows cinch and you can tell he’s scanning you over, just seconds away from catching you red-handed.

“...w-what? Can you  stop staring at me like that?” 

“What? I’m not checking you out or anything if that’s what you’re worried about,” Hoseok scoffs for a fleeting second before silence befalls his lips—and suddenly, the warmth of his hands radiate from your cheeks. A lock of your hair lies in the palms of his long, delicate fingers just barely grazing your cheeks, and it doesn’t take you very long to hastily cover your reddening ears and cheeks with your dampened towel. He frowns, not at your sheepish behavior, but for the wet strands of hair which are all that he fixates on, “did you just work out or something?”

Shouldn't you be the one asking him that? It's as if the irony of his actions is his own method of begging to be exposed without having to come out and ask for it himself.

“No,” you retort, scrunching your face at the absurdity of his suggestion.

Just as you’re about to pull away from his touch, Hoseok retracts his hands from the proximity of your cheeks before what would usually be another one of his mischievous acts; and as much as his sneaky pecks and meaningless affection had once infuriated you, it’s hard to admit how empty you now feel in the absence of its wake. His retreat made of his own will is a first for you.

“Then why are you showering at 1 A.M. in the morning?” he cocks his head with a raised brow.

“Says you—”

“—but at least I have an excuse. I was busy cleaning up after practice,” he retorts and shifts his weight to his other leg, musing, “you, on the other hand…”

“B-Because…” you cross your arms and shoot him the most annoyed glare you could muster; while meeting and comforting him were all that shrouded your mind just a few minutes ago, seeing him in a completely fine state like this is enough to put you to peace and shoo him away for now. “...I slept through the entire day and forgot to shower.”

“...okay,” his lips pressed into a frown gradually bursts into a large grin plastered with second hand embarrassment. “While you kept nagging at me to ‘attend dance camp’ and pick up dancing again, which I so dutifully obliged to tonight, you hide yourself in the corner of your room and sleep the day away?”

“Oh, shut up. It's not like I'm an actual dancer like you—” you roll your eyes before stopping mid-sentence; was that too insensitive of you to say considering the struggles Hoseok seemed to be going through? Clearing your throat, you lift your head high and sigh, “so what’re you doing here? I thought you were busy thinking the night away.”

“Like I said, I'm on patrol tonight. Are you even listening to me or are you to busy fantasizing about all the things we could've been doing in my room right now?” he teases and gently knocks his knuckles on your head.

His entire demeanor had reverted to his usual self, and as concerning as it is to wonder whether this is all an act too painful to witness yourself, you're glad to see him joking around again, even if it's forced.

“No, that's the last thing on my mind, but I guess it's not the same case for someone here,” you roll your eyes.

In retaliation to your indifferent attitude, Hoseok leans against the doorframe with a scoff, pulling you back in as you pushed him out. “Like I said, Ms. I Like To Break Rules Because I’m Dating the Captain, you’re supposed to be asleep by now.”

“I’ll turn off my lights after I blow dry my hair, Mr. Ex Dance Captain—” you bite your tongue when you notice the twitch in his darkened eyes and hardened jaw “—I mean, I'm not dating you.”

At this point, you’re not even sure how to address his relationship with dance, if you should even do so at all.

“So, if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, giving him one last pressed smile and stepping back to close the door; but before you could do so, Hoseok swiftly juts a foot out to interevene, and a simple question ensues.

“What? You don’t want me here?”

All efforts to protest dissipate when he turns his head to face you and lets out a scoff in disbelief, eyes completely empty, and you nearly have to lean in to catch his next words.

“You’re always so cold to me,” he lets out a soft laugh and cracks the most reluctant of grins. “Why do I even bother being disappointed at this point?”

A few seconds of tense silence goes by before it occurs to you what he had just said.

For once, he actually cares about what you say? He’s taking your meaningless banters to heart?

“I’m turning off my lights now,” you frown at him, but his attention remains elsewhere, “isn’t that what you came here to do?”

“You really...” he scoffs and lifts his head, eyes piercing yours and opening the window to his souls; shaky, colorless, lost and infuriated by the calamity of the world before him, in the world you present him. “...do you really think I came here just for that? I could care less what time you sleep.”

“O-Okay…” you stutter; you know there isn’t anything to be hurt over, because what he’s saying has made you believe is of the utmost truth, but the unusually blunt implications of his disingenuity comes on all too harsh.

His constant switch in demeanor is all too confusing to keep up with tonight, and quite frankly, you don't know how to read him anymore, as if you ever could.

His lips part, words of apology ready to be uttered, and his eyes soften in worry for a swift second, but when the clock ticks twice, his jaw hardens the invisible wall built between the two of you.

And for the first time in a while, he’s actually acting like the infamous reputation he had been endowed; because he doesn’t apologize, and now your guts begin to twist and turn, wondering whether you had done something wrong.

Was he in a bad mood because of what you had seen just half an hour before? Should you confront him about it? Should you comfort him? Would words of encouragement even help? Is that what he’s asking for?

Is that the true reason as to why he’s here? Is he… asking for help?

“I’m here to check up on your ankle.”

His mumbling interrupts the internal war fared between two hidden motivations; defeat is all that reigns in the realm of tonight—you, unable to decipher his code, and him, unable to send you such codes.

The mention of your momentarily forgotten injury brings a crease between your brows, “my ankles are fine.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is for me, your highness,” he refutes with a pressed, unamused smile.

“But it really is fine—” you stop mid-sentence when you notice Hoseok taking a deep breath, chest struggling to rise while constricting the impatience and whatever else remains buried from within.

Please let me in, his eyes scream.

Your feet stumbles as they shuffle backwards, and in response, he takes one swift, large stride forward. The door shuts behind him, and suddenly, the room seems significantly more lackluster than before.

“What if someone sees us?” your fear translates into words.

“Should’ve worried about that earlier, don’t you think?” he flatly remarks, cocking his head to the side.

“...but,” you frown and shake your head, “what if they spread rumors about you entering my room?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes before returning the look of impertinence to you, “haven’t they already spread rumors about us? We literally made out at the pool last night. And who cares what they say? I’m tired of giving a shit about them. All it does is burden you.”

“Burden…” your mind subconsciously slips the words into formation when your eyes naturally trail from his gray sweatpants and up to his white tee where beads of water drip from his drenched bangs. “...hey, Hoseok, why haven't you dried your hair yet?”

He couldn't have possibly went out to practice again, could he?

“My hair…?” his brows cinch as his hands find their way to twirl the wet locks in between his fingers and his eyes light up before settling into a frown once again. “Ah… but first, why are you so concerned for me tonight?”

“Maybe because I was kind enough to let you in my room and that's the least you could do…?”

“But I’m the captain. I’m the one in charge,” he quickly quips. You can see the tip of his tongue running across the inner walls of his mouth from the protrusion of his cheeks and his hardened jaw, as if preparing for a fight. “So, technically, I do have the rights to be here, because you broke the rules. If you don’t want to see me, maybe you should turn off your lights next time.”

His sudden defense rubs you the wrong way when you scoff, “captain? Huh, funny, because I seem to recall a certain someone getting all pissed off at me because I begged them to come here in the first place.”

“What?” he asks in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at you.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. Why are you being so aggravated today? Are you scared to tell me the truth? That you’re playing around and checking in on me to pretend and act like you’ve been up hard at work all day? So you can continue playing around with me without having to hear me nag at you?”

You just want him to be honest with himself, and more so with you, and maybe you aren’t approaching it the right way, but you simply don’t understand how to fix the dent in Hoseok’s enclosed heart.

“What?” he repeats, the fury in his boiling blood exuding from his step forward and your step back. “I’m doing my job here, aren’t I? I’m guiding us through the camp, I’m teaching you guys how to dance, I’m even out here past midnight patrolling as a captain should! So how am I anything but a captain?”

Buzz, sneakers, collision, and buzz—the entire sequence washes onto shore once again from the back of your mind, blaring at you as if to tell you to back down.

He continues to take steps forward, forcing you to retreat backwards into the depths of your room.

“I didn't mean it like that…” you mumble, taking another step back until your heels hit the drawer and the back of your head bumps into the TV behind you.

Hoseok steps one intimidating stride forward, arms gripping at the drawer on either side of you and entrapping you in his field of control. He gives you one long, hard stare, and as uncomfortable as it is, something tells you there would be serious repercussions if you looked away.

“No, but it sure does feel like it and it confuses me,” he retorts lowly, “so tell me, Y/N, why are you so concerned for me all of a sudden?”

His watchful eyes and parted lips pray for the hopes that you had seen him, that he had finally found someone who knew the true him, but you don't want to and you can't possibly reopen his wound. You know it would hurt him all too much.

So you keep silent, just as he has all along

“...you’ll wake them if you yell any louder,” you mumble, looking off to the side in dejection.

But his warm hands cup the cold surface of your chin damp from your shower, turning you until your gaze has returned to meet his.

“Stop making excuses. You know they can't hear us,” he lowly utters. “What did you even think I was doing anyways?”

“I-I don't know. I was just asking what you’ve been doing. It’s not that hard of a question,” you mumble. “You can lie to me, even, if you want.”

“No,” he shakes his head, keeping his fingertips grazing against your chin. “I want to hear your guesses.”

You gulp, diverting from his piercing gaze, “I don't know…”

“You seemed to have a pretty good guess just a minute ago,” he narrows his eyes at you. “Just say it. I dare you to.”

I dare you to say it, but I doubt you can, because I doubt you even know, his leer screams.

“...maybe you had a girl over in your room or something…”

You know that's not the case, or at least you hope, but that's the most believable guess you could muster other than outright accusing him of his late night practices sessions.

“You think that I'd let another girl other than you into my room? Who do you take me for?” he scoffs, even chuckles. “Ah, you're too cute.”

He doesn't mean it, you tell yourself, you can't believe him and you can't fall for this specific trick because you know that's exactly what he wants to distract you from the pain hidden beneath that flirtatious crooked smile of his.

You frown, “quit playing and let me go...”

“Just one more question,” he laughs for a brief second, silence failing for a tense minute before finally asking in the lowest of voices, “can I kiss you?”

“W-What?”

“I mean, last time I was so congested and upset with these dark thoughts of mine that I forgot to even ask you for permission before I forced myself on you. Two elements of a great kiss are consent and surprise, remember? I think I got the surprise part down judging by the look on your face,” he smirks, but all you can do is stare at him in silence.

It's not like you're opposed to the idea of kissing him, per se, but you're against sharing such an intimate moment when you know he would just be using you like alcohol as a way to temporarily numb the pain.

But should you go ahead and let him? If something as trifling as this could even relieve him of the pain, should you give him what he wants?

“Are you… lonely? Are you upset over something? Can't I help you?”

Several seconds of silence passes by until you hear him chortle with a sigh, his arms dripping from your sides and releasing you from his grasp as he brushes by your shoulder and heads toward your bed. “I was just joking around with you. Don't look at me like that, it hurts me too, you know? I didn’t come here to argue anyways, ” he remarks, lightening up the mood. “I just forgot to dry my hair, that’s all. Do you have any snacks in your fridge?”

Nonchalantly, Hoseok plops onto your mattress without further permission, but all you could notice is the slight limping in his walk; if anyone else had watched his strides, including you from the past, no one would have suspected a thing, but now that you’ve discovered his secret, the uneven footsteps of his are all too glaring.

With his head against his hand propped by an elbow against one of your two pillows, Hoseok grins at you with an arched brow and a hand tapping on the sweatpants concealing the swelling of his leg.

“...no,” you finally answer, walking a few steps forward into the room to lean against the corner wall next to the lower side of your bed. You cross your arms and continue, “why would I bring food for a three night trip?”

“Ah, I forgot this is only for three nights. I see,” he nods, pursing his lips and turning to lie on his back with his head nestled into your pillow. The fingers of one of his hands drum against his stomach as the other props above his shoulders and under his neck.

The buzzing of your empty fridge stimulates you to memories you don’t want to revisit, but the overwhelming silence seems to be the motif of tonight and you just don’t know how to fix it; yet the longer he stares emptily into the ceiling above, the more curious you become.

“Hoseok?”

“Hm?” he hums without budging his eyes from the ceiling.

“What’re you thinking about?”

A few seconds pass by before he takes a deep breath and sighs loudly, his chest noticeably rising and sinking underneath his water-drenched tee.

“Truthfully, I actually came here after you left because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone tonight. I was wrong to shut you out,” he confesses; but when you’re left staring at him in utter, shock, Hoseok finally breaks his gaze from the ceiling to meet your gaping expression with a chuckle. “It’s a joke, Y/N. I’m a lonely person, just like you said, remember?”

“Being lonely isn’t a joke…” you grumble, uncrossing your arms and walking over to gently seat yourself beside him in bed.

You’re expecting some teasing remark for supposedly joining him in bed, but what you don’t expect is what slips from his lips instead.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad that it’s all you come to know, but the second you get it, it turns out to be the only thing you can’t have? It just… it doesn’t love you back. I’m the only one trying at this point.”

“Like what…?” you hesitantly ask.

“Like you,” he swiftly answers, turning his head to shoot you a lopsided grin.

Everything comes crashing down into a full circle once it finally clicked for you: dance; dance is the unrequited love for Hoseok, and you were just one of the many replacements to allow him to forget what he had lost.

The thought irks you the wrong way, and as much as you want to console him, the teasing relationship you two have established does not exactly authorize for such a moment.

“But you never got me in the first place,” you snort.

Hoseok blinks blankly at your words before scoffing in disbelief, turning his head and smirking with the shake of his head, “go dry your hair before you get sick, you cold-hearted woman.”

“No, I can’t leave you unattended in my bed!”

“I won’t stay here overnight, alright,” Hoseok rolls his eyes while cracking a smile. “So stop worrying and go or you’ll get a cold.”

“Psh, fine,” you huff, getting up from your bed; but before you could depart to the bathroom, Hoseok’s hands grip onto your hands only to pull you back into bed beside him. You sigh, turning your back to glare at the blank look on his face, “do you want me to stay or not?”

“Y/N,” he ignores you and proceeds with his question, looking you straight in the eye, “what would you do if I said I still wanted to quit dance? If I said this entire trip only reminded me of why I hated it so much in the first place? What would you do?”

Your eyes grow wide; he’s practically asking you upfront about his inner true conundrums, and this time, you’re going to make things right again.

“I would support you no matter what. If dancing isn’t what you want, then I’m fine with it,” you answer. “I kissed you so you would come to camp. That’s all I bargained for, and that’s all I’m asking for.”

Hoseok stares at you for several seconds in silence before scoffing and tossing your hand to the side, “I came here for an answer, but now you’re just confusing me.”

“What?”

“Go dry your hair already. Your hands are cold,” he states, turning his head away from you. “I won’t be able to kiss you anymore if you get sick.”

Glaring at him from his back, you oblige to his demands and retreat to the safety of your washroom. While drying your hair, you spend all your time scrambling for something to say, to fill in the conversation, to keep you from the pounding white noise of sneakers and buzz, but most importantly, to keep him from the ill reminder of his downfall.

Yet, all is in vain, when you return to your room to find him asleep.

Sighing, you tiptoe your way to lie down in the bed right beside him. With your head cupped in your hands propped on the mattress by your elbow, you lean just a bit forward to catch a glimpse of his dozing expression. Only in his slumber is he relinquished of all worries. The crease between his brows has vanished, and the frown he had constantly worn in the corner of his lips had dissipated along with it. Finally, he is at peace and solace.

“You see, Hoseok, the thing about life is that it constantly challenges us to new obstacles… kind of like what you’re doing to me right now,” you chuckle to yourself and brush the fallen streaks of hair off his forehead and to his temples, “but you’re strong enough to overcome it, and as long as you have someone beside you the entire time, everything will turn out just right. You are loved, you just don’t know it.”

And with that, you lean in to place a chaste kiss on his forehead.

It’s the first time he ever failed to smirk after a kiss shared between the two of you.

With the official set of the sun ironically at the rise of dawn, an epiphany strikes you at 2 AM in the depths of your room where Hoseok lies asleep beside you.

Some secrets are meant to be kept hidden, some wounds are never meant to be revived; and so, instead of hurting and turning him away, you’ve agreed to be his sanctuary for just tonight.

Jimin [2:23 A.M.] Hoseok? No... he’s not supposed to be on patrol. I am.

#bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #hoseok scenarios #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jhope smut #jhope angst #jhope fluff #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bangtan fic #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #i forgot how to tag tbh lmfaoooo #bts scenario #scriptaed

[undercover-trio]

De request

First "I love you" with Team RWBY? The more tooth rottingly fluffy, the better. They/Them pronouns? Thanks, I love your works.

~~~~~~

Aw shucks, thanks Anon, I’m glad my works are to your liking

✨✨（*´▽｀*）✨✨

I’ll make this as sweet as I can, so sweet even I feel the sweetness radiating from my phone.

o(-`д´- 。)

-Mod Pengie

Art is by mistEcru

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

——————————

Ruby

You twiddled with the music box in your hand, it was fairly small yet still quite beautiful. The rose design it had along with wines tracing along its silver surface, much alike the quality of those in stores.

Yet you made it, you created the music sheets after sleepless days, trying to translate Ruby’s favorite song into a music sheet. You studied the parts of music boxes through your scroll, you nicked your fingers many times as you shaped the metal for the box.

You worked hours on end to purchase the materials, sure it cost more to build a music box than buy one but you wouldn’t let yourself. Ruby had helped and supported you through so much, you wanted her to feel even a drop of the appreciation you felt towards her.

You did have many busts when it came to making them but you felt so proud the moment when you could make a successful one. Your head remembered the sound of her favorite song by memory given how much you played it on the music box to get it right.

As you walked towards Ruby’s dorm you felt nervous, not by the chance you’d be caught by the night guard, he already gave you permission to go.

You really hoped Ruby liked the gift, you put your all into it, it was in a cute red box with a f/c(favorite color) ribbon tying it.

The moment you knocked on her dorm door you felt all your worries wash away, you weren’t the type to have doubts. You knew Ruby, she was a precious and sweet girl who deserved the world.

You smiled at Yang as she opened the door, you looked slightly nervous and a bit tired with light bags under your eyes. It didn’t stop the genuine love she could feel coming from you, she opened the door wider to let you in as she smiled at the gift.

Ruby had her nose in a textbook, looking cutely focused as you chuckled, that caught her attention. She noticed her other three teammates walked out the dorm, leaving you and her.

“Y/N? What’s up!” She greeted cheerfully, you took off your shoes and stepped on Weiss’ bed. Ruby focused on how the candle light enhanced your features.

She looked curious as you handed her a box, you smiled and nodded at her to open it.

And she did, her eyes glossed up at the beautiful music box in front of her. She observed every detail, her being more flattered as she saw every thought you put into it.

“Play it.” You encouraged, your voice mellow from your tiredness, it was due to the hour and how much work you put into her gift.

She twisted the knob and listened to the song with you, while it wasn’t as professionally done as the ones she’d see in shops it was still welcoming.

She came to the realization you made this as her keen eyes observed the craftsmanship and details, it wasn’t impossible given you two first met in a workshop.

As the song ended her eyes were watery, this song was her favorite, it was her and her mother's song.

Red like Roses..

“I love you Ruby..I was just too nervous to say it till now, I wanted to make it special as well.

Her heart melted at your mannerism, your gift, your love, just everything in this moment.

She quickly jumped down from her bunk and tackled you into a heartfelt hug, you were a blushing and stuttering mess but she couldn’t help it.

She loved you so much in this moment.

She’s loved you for a long time.

“I love it- I love you- I just-“ Ruby was fumbling over her sentence, her feelings were overflowing.

You sat up and hugged her back, she tucked her head into your neck as she kept repeating how much she loved you.

You loved her too, and you felt fulfilled knowing that she knew.

——————————

Weiss

-Before Weiss heads to Beacon cause I wanna be unique

Weiss… was perfect in aristocratic standards, she behaved impeccably, was talented and had the charisma.

Her silvery hair never failed to perk your interest, the way all her moves were calculated and graceful. Her eyes were a beautiful sky blue, they were probably what drew you in the most.

They were free, they were bright and daring, you weren’t sure when exactly you realized your fondness of her, it just happened.

While you weren’t the most poor aristocrat you certainly weren’t the most rich. It kept you grounded, you had always been level headed yet when it came to her.. you felt all sensible thinking fade.

Perhaps that was what made you follow her to the balcony that night, you remember how you froze when you watched her beautiful features be illuminated by the shattered moon.

Her expression made you pause for a second, with a defeated smile you could help but think she didn’t belong here. An angel can’t be kept in a cage after all.

“Why the long look?” You asked, your behavior genteel as always. Sky blue met e/c, your heart beat fast at the eye contact.

To think you were only 12 at the time.

You and Weiss became acquainted, slowly it turned into friendship, you couldn’t help but admire her.

She really was a beauty among thieves, you loved it when she laughed and joked. Your heart broke when she looked defeated or down, you always strived to be there for her as she did you.

Yet.. secrets can’t always be kept forever, white lies are soon seen through, you weren’t an opaque wall rather than a tinted glass.

“I’m leaving.”

Such a simple sentence from her managed to change your mood tremendously, yet even then as you turned to meet her precious blue eyes..

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop her, she deserved to be free.

“I see.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say more without your voice breaking. She raised her eyebrow at your seemingly relaxed response, yet Weiss was perceptive.

“I’m sorry Y/N.. I just can’t keep being grouped with my family anymore.” Her voice cracked with guilt and pent up aggression, you could feel her emotions about to overflow.

Two warm hands were placed on her cheeks, Weiss couldn’t help but lean into their comfort, you gently brushed away her tears.

“Weiss, look at me.” She hesitantly looked at your face, she didn’t say a word of how it made her heart skip a beat.

“I’ve known..for a long time you don’t belong here.” You started, Weiss could only listen to the cadence of your voice as she put her hands on both your wrists.

“You were made for adventure, a thrilling life with people who care about you.” The more you spoke the less coordinated your words became, she knew you cared about her. You wished for her to get the affection she truly deserved, with the amount of people she should.

It shouldn’t just be you.

“Weiss, when I look into your eyes I see the sky.. I see freedom.. I see many beautiful things.” Her cheeks tinted at the words, you noticed, she always got like that when praised.

“And freedom isn’t caged, it's the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants without hindrance or restraint.” She smiled wryly as she knew you quoted the dictionary, you always did when it came to words that struck you.

“Therefore.. I support you, I’ll even aid you if need be.” Her heart warmed at your words, you were always there for her, speaking and looking at her as if she were the most precious thing.

She couldn’t help her next action.

Her arms wrapped around your shoulders as her lips made contact with yours, they were soft. Her lips were pushed against yours as she tried to convey how she felt to you, smiling slightly when you wrapped your arms around her waist.

When you two separated you met her eyes, they looked back at you lovingly, the way you would always look at her.

“I love you Y/N/N.” She admitted with a smile, you were surprised and delighted. You couldn’t help the way your face melted into a sweet grin.

“And I you, Weiss.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You met with an Angel at twelve

And with your affections you delve

The closest of friends at fifteen

Something you’d never foreseen

A kiss goodbye at seventeen

As you watched her break from her routine

——————————

Blake

Blake was scared of your affection sometimes, not that she was scared of you as a person.

It’s just that she was hurt and emotionally scarred so many times and it was hard to heal. Her emotional state was equivalent to a paper that had been crumpled then straightened out.

The marks were still there.

She wasn’t sure she could recover if you turned out the same way Adam did, yet every time you looked at her with love in your eyes she just couldn’t help but stick with you.

She felt ashamed she would always lose her voice when she would try and say she loved you, it made her think of Adam.

You noticed this of course, and every time without fail you would give her a smile and tell her it’s fine. Sure it hurt a bit but you loved Blake, you knew of her past, her emotions and traumas.

You loved every bit of her.

She had come into your dorm late one night, she was busy at the library due to the Torchwick situations. Yet she felt her heart rate increase at your sleeping face, you always were the most beautiful person to her.

Then she heard it.

“...love you..Blake.”

You had murmured it in your sleep, she knew that you loved her, she knew that you refrained from telling her that because you loved her.

Her reaction wasn’t what she expected though, instead of the dreaded fear she thought she would have she instead had a feeling of comfort, ecstasy even.

Her emotions had already come to accept that you loved her, that you weren’t Adam.

She teared up a bit of the realization, they weren’t sad tears but ones of pure and genuine delight.

While she was on her high she sat next to your body and shook you awake, you drowsily looked at her. With a sleepy smile you lift up your hoodie a bit and let her sneak underneath it.

You called it ‘Hoodie Time’, Blake found it as a good way to calm down and relax if she listened to your heartbeat.

And the added bonus she liked being in small spaces.

She felt you stroke her hair as she listened to the cadence of your heart, it was slightly fast and it only flattered her.

“Want to talk Kitten?” You asked, Blake usually did this when she was stressed. You didn’t mind though, you thought it was quite cute.

She shook her head no as she kept her right human and cat ear on your chest.

“I just wanted to say” she started as you rubbed circles on her back to keep her calm. She felt slightly nervous but your action did help.

“I love you.” She got it all out in one breath, she grew slightly worried as she noticed you stopped rubbing her back. She shook her head, you weren’t Adam and you’d never be, you were Y/N.

Her worries ended when she saw how happy your face was, you looked as though you struck gold.

You looked at her as if she just gave you the world, you didn’t want her to worry, you quickly pecked her forehead since it was fairly close to your lips.

“I love you too Blake.” You began, then you started tearing up. “I’m glad you trust me enough to say this.”

She was flabbergasted at how genuinely loving your reaction was, it made her all the more warm inside, she loved your way of love.

She loved you.

She always would.

——————————

Yang

You smiled as you felt the wind brush against your hair, the city lights always looked perfect in the night. Unfortunately the police sirens weren’t that pleasant, then again, your favorite blonde is the one who is driving right now.

She took a sharp right as you grasped onto her stomach tighter, her muscles tensed at the feeling. The feeling of your fingers brushing against her stomach caused her to lose focus for a minor second.

At least until you snapped her out of it.

“Yang!! Bascule bridge is splitting right now!!” You alerted her, her lilac eyes noticed the ship trying to pass, she immediately increased the motorcycle speed.

Unlike with Ruby, Blake and dear oum.. Weiss, you wouldn’t get scared or mad when she invited you on a thrill ride. You enjoyed it and participated, it surprised her at first given you were a pretty mellow and sweet individual.

She smiled as she heard you gasp in excitement as you two were on the motorcycle mid air, the gradient of the bridge was more than enough to lose the cops and make it to the other side.

You treasured how her hair seemed to fly in slow motion, the moon illuminating the whole scene.

The landing was a bit rough, but thanks to your semblance, aerokinesis, you guys didn’t crash into oblivion. It did slightly exhaust you to slow the velocity you guys were falling at however the adrenaline sure helped.

Luckily there were only minor scratches to bumblebee, unfortunately you both just realized that the way back to Beacon was on the other side of the bridge.

“So Yang.. how would you feel sleeping on a random roof?”

Yang merely laughed at the question and slapped your back, she was on board with it.

That question eventually led to the two of you being on a flat roof, Bumblebee was hidden in a bush right below you guys. You could use your semblance to bring you and Yang up but the bike was a bit too much for you right now.

“Best Joy ride ever!” Yang laughed out with a huge grin on her face, you chuckled at her antics and gave her a fist bump. You guys relaxed for a bit, nearing sleep before Yang turned to you, her eyes looked determined.

“Serious though, I’m glad I have you Y/N/N, I’m not able to do these things with anyone else without being called brash and dumb.” You frowned at the last words, without speaking you merely grabbed her hand as you looked at the star signs.

Ursa Major, quite ironic given you have an overprotective bear hugging friend next to you at the moment.

“Yang.. before I met you I wasn’t able to be myself, while I’m not necessarily as… extroverted as you.. my parents didn’t like my need for thrill.” You told her as you grasped her hand tighter, she too frowned at your words.

“But then I met you… this amazing, lively person, the day you first invited me to a ride like this.. I felt happy.” She blushed at your description of her yet you kept going.

“You’re not dumb, maybe a little brash but you’re still a ray of sunlight that came into my life..and I love you for it.” Your face turned crimson as you admitted those last words, she paused as she came to terms with what you said.

The two of you were still lying down as she raised her arm, you closed your eyes as she patted your soft hair.

“Gee.. you could’ve just told me you loved me..then again you wouldn’t be my Y/N if you didn’t speak a lot to get a point across.” She laughed as you started snickering at her words too, her eyes caught sight of yours as they held contact.

“I love you too Y/N.” She smiled brightly as she brought you in for a kiss, you couldn’t help but beam with happiness as well.

You loved Yang a lot, you loved her thrilling, welcoming self. And she loved you as well.

——————————

Heyo! It’s me Pengie, sorry for the late upload of this, school kept me busy, luckily Fine Line by Harry Styles came in my life(slowed down cause I’m like that) added to the angst but nyeh

Anyways I hope your teeth rotted lol, I love you simps and have a good day!

#mod pengie #rwby #rwby x reader #tagging still sucks #ruby rose x reader #ruby rose #rwby ruby #weiss schnee x reader #weiss schnee #rwby weiss #yang xiao long x reader #rwby yang #yang xiao long #blake belladonna x reader #rwby blake #blake belladonna #gender nuetral reader #fluff

[soranis-sunshadow]

Looking back

@cruelfeline wanted a snippet between Hordak and Glimmer where they contemplated on how much of a fuckup either of them is.

I took it as a prompt and I hope this little oneshot scratches that itch.

It was always better to go to a banquet than to host it, Glimmer thought to herself while making her way down the long hallway of the reclusive palace wing. If she felt at odds or tired or just not in the mood, all she had to do was signal Bow and he’d take her home. But as a host, she WAS home, there was nowhere else to go to. Besides, since she was the esteemed host, she couldn’t leave early. It would be in poor taste.

This year, the anniversary of the end of the war was hosted in Bright Moon and she had to find a secluded place in her own home to take a breather from all the commotion before she had to return to the party and smile and nod and… try not to feel like such an imposter.

She finally found her favorite overlook, the one where she came to sulk whenever her mother gave her a stern -and justified- talking to, the best view and the music of the party down in the main hall was muted. No sooner did she lay her hands upon the balustrade that she spotted movement to the periphery of her vision. It was another person she really didn’t want to interact with due to the sheer awkwardness: Hordak. He was sitting by himself in contemplation, looking on into the distance in the last light of the day.

She and he stood meters apart on the balcony in silence for a while. He seemed to look at peace while staring off into the sunset. She tried to do the same. Her maelstrom of thoughts made it difficult.

During the war, she had never met him face to face, all she knew was what other people said of him – both her own and other hordesmen that were captured and interrogated.

Their first meeting in the flesh had been memorable… for very terrible, nightmare inducing reasons. Even now, she couldn’t look at Hordak without seeing Prime discard his errant tool then threaten to destroy her world in a dulcet voice as if it were the most trite of things. It probably had been to that monster…

Hordak hadn’t been what she – an everyone else thought he was. What made it even more jarring, and unexpected, had been his eagerness to repent and atone following the war.

Glimmer had decreed that Prime’s little brothers were not at fault for what they had been made to do for their creator, all of them, Hordak included. She couldn’t in good conscience persecute any of them whilst knowing, intimately – unlike the other monarchs- where they came from and what had been done to them.

Hordak however, decided to be difficult, because of course he did.

He insisted that even had his actions been in the hopes of serving Prime, they had been his actions, his mistakes. He owned them, and he owed Etheria. He had decided- by himself - to rebuild the things he had a hand in destroying not out of a desperate bid for forgiveness but because it was what he had been convinced that it was the right, and the just thing to do.

It made it very awkward for her to interact with him… whenever she invited Entrapta to these events, he was always her plus one. Entrapta was a sore spot for Glimmer. She had decided that the Dryll princess would be the first one to be invited whenever Glimmer hosted any event. It was the least she owed her.

She had learned that Entrapta endangered herself to save her back when she had been abducted on Prime’s ship… a few weeks before that, Glimmer had argued with Adora and Bow to leave her on Beast Island for the time being. It was a shame that stung deeply. Entrapta had been a far better friend to her than she had been to Entrapta. To make matters worse, Entrapta seemed either oblivious or not to hold it against her. It made Glimmer’s guilt even worse. At times, she wished Entrapta HAD been angry, she wished the other princess would give her a piece of her mind, at least then, she’d be able to make it up to her.

Huh!

No wonder Hordak “punished” himself with reparations and reconstructions…She couldn't stop a heavy sigh from escaping her. It wasn't an invitation to talk but he seemed to take it as one since the noise startled him out of his contemplation and he slowly turned towards her.

“Good evening, your grace.” It was always a bit comical when one of Prime’s clones bowed to her, they would have to bend over comically low to match her height. Hordak didn’t. He merely bowed his head smoothly and lowered his ears to convey submission.

“Uh, hey.” How dignified of her. She wished she had half as much grace as her mother had. “Uuuh,-“ he looked at her with that blank face that had been conditioned into him. ‘Ugh, say something Glimmer, this doesn’t have to be this awkward. Make an effort, for Entrapta’s sake at least!’. “- lovely sunset, right?”

He blinked slowly then turned back to the vista. “Indeed.”

‘C’mon! Give me SOMETHING to work with here!’ She thought to herself. “What do you think of the party?” That had been a host thing to ask, it was appropriate and neutral right?

It wasn’t... The answer came in that calm, low, dignified and slightly husky voice of his, a voice that had cracked from screaming and had never recovered. His posture betrayed his unease. Hordak further stiffened at the question.

“It is,-“ he paused considering his words carefully “quite sumptuous, your grace.” He bowed again. It was clearly at least as uncomfortable for him as it was for her.

This wasn’t helping… ‘Good job Glimmer!’ If it hadn’t been weird and both of them had enjoyed the companionable silence before, now she had made things awkward.

While considering what to say next, he saved her the effort by saying. “Your guests are enjoying themselves.” Was that a compliment? Was he trying to compliment her? She knew from former interactions with him that he had a very stiff and formal way of talking, very unlike his progenitor. Words fit poorly in his mouth. It was so curious how, despite having the same voice and the same face, almost… they sounded worlds apart. He held himself differently too, Prime had filled every space he was in, he owned every room he walked into. Hordak on the other hand seemed perpetually on eggshells. Was that why he was here by himself?

“You are my guest too.” She said to him, trying to sound warm and welcoming but it came out a bit defensive.

The unasked question hung between them in the dying light of the day.

He saved her from asking it once more. “My presence… makes some of your other guests uneasy, your grace. I did not wish to impose.”

“Impose? Nonsense!” She waved it off with a chuckle. “You and Entrapta are welcome here, I’ve expressly invited the both of you myself. There is no way you could ‘impose’ in any way!” Then it hit her… “Did anyone tell either of you that you were imposing? If they did, tell me who it was and I’ll have a chat with them.”

He huffed out a chuckle then turned towards her once more. A small, tentative smile made its way on his face. “No such thing your grace, the initiative was all mine.” The shared gaze was broken as he looked at his feet then back into the distance. “ I wished to prevent it from becoming an issue. Many of your kinsmen are weary of me, and for good reason. My actions on your world did not endear me to most of your kind.” It seems that guilt had brought them both on this overlook.

“I should name this ‘the shitty overlook!’ Hah!” She laughed. “Because everyone comes on this balcony to feel shitty.” He looked at her, one browridge raised in inquiry. “You’re here because of the whole conquest thing and I’m here because I’ a terrible friend.”

Glimmer continued. “We both did regrettable things during the war.” She too looked on into the distance, the line of bleeding orange light got thinner and thinner as night overtook it, a thin line of fiery hues reflected off the surface of the turbulent lake. Silence hung between them for a few minutes.

“You did what you thought was necessary, your grace.” Despite the curt tone, it was a reassurance. It was uncanny for Hordak of all people to be the one trying to comfort her.

“We both did. It still doesn’t make it feel right.” Both of their closets had skeletons cramped in them.

“It may not but, at the time, you saw no other way to do your duty.” He sighed deeply. “Hindsight is indeed, not a charitable beast your majesty, but it is unfair.” He clicked his claws on the balustrade. The motion was somewhat distracting. ” You know things now that you couldn’t have possibly known back then. Within the constraints of the time and the data available, you did the best that you could, the best that could be expected. You were a formidable opponent.” As sound as his logic was, it did little to assuage the anger she aimed at herself.

“And I had my friends take the fall for me because I thought it was necessary.” She sighed and hugged herself. “I was wrong, even back then but I didn’t want to admit it, I thought the ends justify the means. They don’t. They never do.”

“It’s easy to overthink the choices made when one is aware that there were other options, other paths that could have been taken.” He sounded, small and sad, his own demons haunting him.” The reality of it is that, in the moment, you may not have been aware of other possibilities and time had not been on your side. You decided to move forward down the only path you saw before you. The alternative would have been admitting defeat. Had you done so, you wouldn’t be here to second guess yourself. It was, in general, the right thing to do even if you are left with the consequences of your perceived momentary oversights. You have the privilege now, to make up for your mistakes – a privilege you wouldn’t have had should you have not done the things you did. “

“Thank you. I needed to hear that.” She hadn’t known she needed it nor would she had ever asked for it and that’s exactly why the point had hit home. “She was right, you’re a good listener.”

He chuckled again, an animate chuckle that rippled through him as he shook his head and turned back to look at the lake. She made her way closer and took in the familiar view. Neither of them said anything after that.

They watched the stars appear on the night sky, reflecting off the surface of the lake, somewhat distorted. The ripples of the lake made their twinkling even brighter. The night was peaceful.

#glimmer #hordak #entrapdak #spop fanfic

[notaninterest]

Carnal *1* (A Hisoka x Reader)

[A/N]: Hello! My username says notaninterest, but feel free to call me Cece.

I'm going to be making this into a story! So I do hope you stick around for the other parts to come. This is also posted on my Wattpad if you're interested. I don't know how many chapters this is going to be but it shouldn't be too long. We'll see :)

I update weekly to biweekly depending on how my life pans out. I will let you know when you should expect the next chapter.

I think I made some mistakes with my writing about Nen so I hope that's okay. I'm not going to be completely accurate in my writing. I hope you understand.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this first chapter!

warnings: heavy sexual themes, smut, Hisoka being fucking hawt

The smell is the same as any other strip club. These grimy places usually never interested him, but tonight is different. It is not the same as the others. He urges for something, something not related to his bloodlust. Yes...He requires a woman. And places like these were full of them. He smiles to himself whilst taking a sip of his alcohol. Nevermind the crowd of inebriated men and some women. His yellow eyes are trained on the dancers, three different ones each accompanying their own respective poles. One of them is a brunette with an aline bob, her hands above her head wrapped around the pole and her legs crossed over the pole with her back facing towards it. She held a look of lust while she arched her back, exposing her full bare breasts further to the crowd as she spun down the pole slowly. While she played the part, her aura certainly didn't feel the part. Hisoka could sense the underlying hatred and disgust this girl has for her job and while she is good at it, she clearly doesn't enjoy it. 'Too boring. Easily manipulated. Not enough fun.' He decides, switching his gaze over to the second girl. This one has long, blue hair reaching to her waist. She confidently swirls upside on the pole, grinding against it upside down. As she reaches down lower, she does the splits midair, manipulating her lower body to face the crowd of horny alcoholics, giving them a peek as to what's beneath the lingerie. A man in the mass of bodies spits out his beer in surprise, quickly throwing money at the dancer. Hisoka rolls his eyes. It's clear as day that she's just a run of the mill slut, perfect for this specific area of expertise. She's clearly in it for it all. Sex, money, and exhibitionism. She doesn't care who watches her or who touches her. She enjoys it all the same. While sensitivity to touch was always a plus, he prefers at least some resistance to his advances. He likes 'em feisty.

The third dancer however...bingo. Her [h/c] hair is what first draws him to her significantly more than the others. The second? Well, he can't sense her aura. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he can't feel it at all. She must be using Zetsu to conceal herself from any Nen users. Little does she know that any other other highly experienced Nen users like himself can easily spot through her deception from just looking at her. Another smile upturns his lips. She will certainly entertain him for the night. He continues to watch her, noting the way her [e/c] eyes sparkle with excitement, nervousness, and some other emotions he can't place. This placates his curiosity more. "Oi, bartender." He calls one of the employees, who walks over while cleaning a glass. "What's the name of that third dancer, the one right over there?" Hisoka asks, pointing over to the mysterious woman. "Well that'd be [Y/N], the most graceful of them all." The bartender gushes, clearly having it out for the lady. "Hmm...'most graceful' you say..." He'd be the test of that one. He continues to stalk you out from the bar, sipping on his alcohol slowly. He needn't be drunk for this experience. No...He's going to enjoy this one to satisfy his more carnal cravings for a longer time. He watches you closely. You were wearing very little, definitely giving the appearance of confidence in your body. That scores high in the point system in Hisoka's head. You were currently positioned so the front of your body faced the pole, your backside facing the crowd. You bent over at the waist, grabbing the pole in front of you and bending to a 90-degree angle. Your toned ass is on clear view to the people in front of you and you slowly rotate your hips, imitating a sexual act in midair. Or, at least trying to. ‘Mmm...she's perfect.’ Hisoka dreams of the acts he'll perform on you, becoming more excited by the second. He continues to watch you, head in his left hand, his drink in the other. As soon as you finish undulating your hips, you slide up against the pole, grinding your pussy against the cold metal. A gasp leaves your lips, one that should be inaudible considering the noise and the atmosphere, but it's a noise Hisoka can hear as clear as day. It's clear that from the pitch in this noise and the way you move your body that you're not experienced in this area, which leaves him to wonder why you chose it. Maybe for the money? No...he doubted that. You didn't lurch your body around the pole as deliberately as the first dancer. There was a secret to your work that he doesn't know of. It becomes painfully more clear that you aren't experienced in any pole work at all, judging by how clumsily you slither up the pole. Your eyes struggle to convey the desire to practically fuck the pole and instead are glazed over in what seems to be a sort of nervousness. To any other everyday individual, you'd look like a professional, maybe graceful as others say. Yet, to Hisoka, he can see right through your dancing façade. Why are you doing this...he must sate his ever-growing curiosity.

As the number finishes and the dancers walk offstage, Hisoka approaches the man responsible for handing out lap dances and the like, going to put his request in nice and early. "Eh?! You request a room for the rest of the night?! S-Sir I'm afraid-" Hisoka holds up a heavy, full bag. "This here is enough jenny to last you a lifetime and even your grandkids if you spend it wisely." He smiles as he hands the packed bag over, watching as the man's eyes light up in greed. He needs this money. And Hisoka can tell. "I'm sure we can make something work. This man here will guide you to your room." The greedy man shoos over a hefty bulk of a guy, who promptly tells Hisoka to follow him. Hisoka smirks, dropping the bag of money on the slimy man's desk. "Very well. Thank you." He thanks, following the brawny dude to his assigned room.

The large man guides the magician to the room furthest down the long hallway. As Hisoka opens it, he notices it to be some sort of suite. He chuckles to himself. The other rooms were smaller. Money sure did get you good things. The strong guard before him tells him that the dancer he requested will be with him shortly before leaving, giving Hisoka some time to himself before you arrived. He investigates the big room for the time being, meticulously looking over things. There was the obvious king-sized bed, massive enough for two bodies. There's a nightstand full of condoms and lube. It has a lamp with a red shade on top of it, which Hisoka turns on. The room fills with an additional red light, making him smile. Yes...mood lighting. He's looking through the dresser across the bed when the door swings open, an angry-looking woman greeting him. He smiles at her, arms crossed behind his back. "Hello, [Y/N]-" "I don't allow any clients to touch me, much less have me for 12 hours straight!" You interrupt as you fume, glaring at the magician before you. "Must be your lucky night then." Hisoka chuckles, running his entrancing eyes over your body. Your minimal clothing was enticing to say the least, easily getting him worked up. But the air of mystery swarming around you fuels his horniness more. He needs to find out what exactly you are up to. The door suddenly closes firmly behind you, clicking locked behind the woman. You panic, trying to open the locked door handle. As predicted, it doesn't budge. "I think what you mean by not allowing anyone to touch you, you also mean you haven't even touched yourself?" Hisoka asks, beginning to walk over to you with his hands still behind his back. Your aura suddenly springs to life, surrounding your body in an instant. Hisoka smirks, continuing his approach. "St-Stand back, clown! I will not hesitate to send you flying!" You stamper, projecting your Nen in an offensive manner. "Hm..." Hisoka ponders, stopping inches away from you.

You're strong, but not nearly as strong as he is. He wonders how long you've been practicing. Must've been a few years now. You place yourself in a defensive stance, one arm angled up at a 90-degree angle and the other positioned a little below that one in the same stance, legs spread apart with one a little behind the other. Ah, yes. Every stereotypical position most fighters took when looking to fight. It looks silly with what you're wearing. And the look on your face was so hilariously serious. That's why Hisoka couldn't stop himself from laughing. He seriously tried to contain it, but the silliness of your posture combined with your facial expression absolutely cracked him up. This reaction serves to royally piss off the woman in front of him. "What?! What's so funny?!" You snap at him, clenching your hands into fists. He laughs himself to literal tears, holding his stomach with one clawed hand. "It's just...Your Nen compares next to nothing against mine, but your effort is quite adorable." The Transmuter purrs, wiping his cheek and taking a step closer to you. You look worried, taking a step away from the man. He responds by simply taking a step closer. "Wh-What do you want from me, f-freak?" You stutter nervously, finding yourself being backed into a corner. "Why, you of course." The magician licks his lips to emphasize his statement. A blush crosses your [s/c] cheeks, your eyes gleaming with fear. The look is so utterly delicious to him.

He chuckles, continuing to walk towards you. You back up until your back is literally against the wall, leaving you nowhere to go expect towards the creepy man. You breathe shakily, making your fear of him clear. "Well, let's get started...[Y/N]." Hisoka smiles, placing his hand next to your head and leaning down to touch noses with you. It's clear his height intimidates you. You swallow and swing, missing your Nen-powered punch by a longshot. He dodges, letting the attack wisp by his right star-drawn cheek. Hisoka giggles at your attempt, grabbing your outstretched hand with his free one and pinning it against the wall you were up against. You look totally helpless, fuelling his desire more. "Oh-ho-ho, trying to hit me are you now? Your attempt turns me on." He teases, fully smiling at your clear look of panic. His eyes narrow as your Nen powers up, sensing that you're up to something. He uses Gyo, centering his Ren in his eyes and watching your aura, watching as it enhances to your hidden fist behind you and to your left leg. So you're an Enhancer, hm? You were going to try to bait him with a fake punch before actually hitting him with your left leg? Okay. He feigns as if he doesn't suspect anything, allowing you to throw your fist at him before pulling back, jumping up and predictably swinging your leg at the left side of his teardrop-stained cheek. He allows the attack to land on him, his head snapping to the side with a frightening speed. Your eyes light up victoriously, but they soon dim to horror as he turns his scuffed up face back to look down at you with a smug smirk. "Any normal person would have flown away with that attack, so I must say I'm impressed. Yet, I'm not a normal man if you can't already tell. Your attacks will provide you with no protection if I haven't already predicted this. It's cute that you think you have an evenly-scored battleground with me." Hisoka chuckles, pinning you against the wall with both of your hands restrained by his at this point.

Your expressive eyes give away your anxiety of the situation, but your face remains hard with determination. The look reminds him of a certain 12-year old boy. This stirs his lust for you up further. He licks at his pale lips seductively, yellow eyes glowing into your own [e/c] ones. Your cold glare sends a spike of pleasure right to his hardened dick. He smiles wider if possible. It's becoming increasingly clear that you have no chance against him and he finds this power over you intoxicating, delicious even. "I have a question for you, [Y/N]. Sate my curiosity if you will." The clown husks, putting his mouth right next to your right ear. A bead of sweat rolls down the side of your face and you gulp nervously. "Shoot." Your icy voice fills his ears, and he gives a simple, "Hmm." at your compliance. You were going to be so much fun to break. He really chose the right contender to satisfy his needs. He snickers into your ear, his hot breath hitting the shell of it. It causes you to barely shiver. It was almost imperceptible, but not to perceptive Hisoka. He grins with this discovery, deciding not to voice it. You would soon find your body betraying you. "Pray tell what you're doing in a place like this? We both know you're not qualified for sex work, so what really brings you here, [Y/N]?" Hisoka's flirtatious voice whispers against your flesh. You noticeably tense up at the question, your hands forming into fists. Your wrists flex in his grasp. He seems to have hit a sore spot. You don't respond immediately. This moves Hisoka to press his body up against yours. Your almost completely exposed chest rubs up against his completely covered one and you gasp at his movements, clearly not expecting them. "Mmm your body feels delightful up against me dear~ Now answer the question." He lustfully whispers in your ear. You seem frozen in place, eyes wide with surprise. He decides he quite likes that expression, ingraining it into his memory. You quickly catch yourself, squirming against his body. "Let m-me go!" You stutter. Your futile attempts only rub him in all the right ways and he moans deeply, the noise hitting your right ear loudly. You gasp, your cheeks reddening with...desire? You freeze up again. He chuckles. "You feel amazing rubbing up against me like that~ Now...are you going to answer or am I going to force it out of you?~" He mumbles sensually, rubbing his lips against the flesh of your ear. You lick your lips to moisten them, your breathing correcting itself quickly.

"I'm here to collect a bounty." You simply state, watching his pale face out of the corner of your right eye. He laughs. "Liar." He growls into your ear, his hands tightening on your wrists before he throws you behind him. He listens as your delectable body bounces on the massive mattress before he turns around, predatory eyes focusing on your scared ones as you sit up on the bed. "That's the truth-" "Incorrect. I'm simply calling you out on your bullshit." Hisoka grins, beginning to approach the bed with obvious sexual intentions. You back away to the headboard of the bed, your back pressing against the splintering wood. He crawls onto the king-sized cot, stopping as soon as he looms on top of you. The look in his eyes is hungry as he looks down your body once again. He loves the position you're in. Utterly helpless. He places his hands beneath your arms, leaning down so that he's touching noses with you again. "Answer the question. Truthfully this time." He adds, smiling deviously in your flustered face. Your mouth remains shut. That's fine. It's well past time for him to immerse himself in your beautiful body. He reaches underneath you, carefully manipulating his clawed hand to the string of your toppiece. He unties it, the flimsy material of the lingerie falling away from your breasts almost instantly. You puff out a noise of embarrassment, your hands quickly coming to aid in hiding your tits from him. The magician quickly evades this method however, encircling both your wrists in his hands again and pinning them next to your head. He takes a long look at your perfect bust, practically drooling at the sight of them. He truly scored with this catch. He smiles, making eye contact with you again. He does not hide his lust from you this time. "Fine.~ I suppose I'll have to try a different method to coax an answer out of you." He punctuates this by licking his lips, moving his face over your bosom. Your eyes watch, curious as to what he'll do. You look nervous and Hisoka couldn't hold back his smirk. The nervousness only virgins hold. This'll be one hell of a lay. He almost couldn't contain his excitement.

He sticks out his tongue, running it over your left nipple before popping it into his mouth. He gives an experimental suck and watches as your body jolts beneath him. A noise akin to pleasure leaves your throat and you look embarrassed at this, closing your eyes. His smile widens and he continues to suck on your nipple, running his tongue over it at the same time. He releases your right hand when he's sure you won't move, using his free hand to massage your other boob. He kneads the flesh in his palm, squeezing the whole thing harshly. Your back arches off the bed and a groan leaves your lips, your hands squeezing as you squirm beneath him. Beautiful. The way you respond to him. You must be sensitive. He watches your face with his observate eyes, watching as your face relaxes into a sort of pleasured expression. Perfect. He pops your breast out of his mouth, replacing it with his other hand. He continues his ministrations for a few quiet moments, listening as you release more pleased noises. This heats up his body more and as a result, his own face flushes up with his desire. "So [Y/N].~ You ready to spill the beans?" Hisoka asks, squeezing both of your tits rather roughly. You pant, opening your defiant eyes to glare at him. "Never." You huff, shivering beneath him. He chuckles. "Shame.~" He continues to fondle you, this time kissing and dragging his tongue against your stomach. Your muscles tense and untense and a full fledged moan dares to leave your mouth. Sensitive you are indeed. This causes Hisoka himself to shiver, your moan music to his ears. He drags his tongue up your stomach, in between the valley of your boobs and up to your neck, where he centers his attack. He laves his tongue in the area, kissing it too. Your moans double in volume and he smiles to himself. "Dare to share, [Y/N]~?" He huskily whispers, licking up to your earlobe and nibbling it. “Ahn- N-No." You pant, trying to remain as stoic as before. You were for sure a challenge...and Hisoka loves challenges. Chuckling, he bites at the skin of your neck, enjoying your flinch in response. "Fine. Be that way." He responds, returning his attention to your tits. He massages the flesh in his clawed hands, tweaking the nipples at the same time. He pulls them, making your back arch to follow them. He leans down to your face, running his nose against your cheek before kissing it. He moves his face towards your left ear, breathing hotly against it. You freeze up before shivering in response. "Perhaps I'll have to take more...drastic measures." He whispers into your ear, his right hand releasing its grip on your left boob and hovering over the side of your hip where a tie holds up the bottom piece of your sexy outfit.

He pulls at the measly string, untying it from your hip. It loosens the fabric, yet the triangular material protecting your modesty continues to cover it. This is fine. He unties the other string, the fabric effectively falling slack against your skin. Hisoka releases all touches, focusing on your lower body now. You move to cover your most sensitive bits, but Hisoka simply smacks your hands away with force, moving back to take the covering away from you. As you yelp and rub your hands, he uses his to grab the thong, taking it away from your body. He stares at your pussy in all its glory, licking his lips. "Say...~ all this interrogating has got me famished. You don't mind if I have a little snack, right?~" His seductive voice proclaims, spreading open your thighs and settling himself in between them. Your nervous eyes alight his own dilated ones and he continues his prowl. He inhales your scent deeply, moaning. Yes, you smell absolutely scrumptious! "I will not be asking you questions from here on out. I will be demanding them. So, [Y/N]. Tell me why you're actually here." He almost snarls, his claws digging into the skin of your hips, drawing a small amount of blood. You wince, but remain strong. "No." You respond icily, acting as if you weren't intimidated. It's almost cute, but he can smell your fear. You reek of it. He chuckles. "Alright.~" He immediately dives into your pussy, licking a stripe up to your clit. You gasp, an ungodly pornographic moan leaving your throat. Hisoka groans in response to your taste, licking up what is all of you. His practiced tongue flicks against your clit and your body twists around, full-fledged, unembarrassed moans leaving your mouth as his sucks on your sensitive sex. His thumbs spread your lower lips open and he flattens his tongue, giving another harsh lick all the way up. He sucks on your hole and you keen, arching your back all the way up. "W-wait -AH- I think I'm going to cum!" You yell out those magic words, your hands grabbing at his hair. That was fast. This fuels his goal further and he eats at you with much more fervor. He slurps your pussy, eating up all you have to offer. Your moans grow more high-pitched and before the both of you know it, you're cumming into Hisoka's mouth. He sucks up all the cum you have to offer, unabashedly enjoying all of it. By the end of it, you're a panting and sweating mess, while Hisoka remains fresh. "Wonderful.~" He murmurs dirtily against you, lapping at your pussy again. You flinch, panting up a storm. You release your grip on his hair, moving your hands to wipe sweat off of your forehead. "W-Wait. I'm too sensit- OH!" You exclaim as he sucks on your clit, watching your face closely this time. Your cheeks are the reddest he's ever seen anyone's become and your eyes are dilated with desire, something he secretly hurrahs in his head. You look amazing. He watches your mouth open in a frenzied moan and shivers, continuing his attack on your pussy. As he continues, he watches you unravel before him yet again. The sight is damning to say the least. You were a gorgeous sight to gaze at and he almost couldn't let you cum a second time, getting caught up in his own desire. He begins to rub himself against the bed to ease himself, moaning into your clit. The vibrations make your toes curl and you throw your head back in a scream. He watches your face as you come undone beneath him yet again, marvelling at your orgasmic expression. That's a face he's certainly going to remember forever.

You're different from his other whores, seeing how you aren't an experienced one. Also seeing as he didn't perform these acts on his other playthings. You're...special. To him for now at least. Surely you wouldn't mean anything once he's finished with you, right? He creeps up your body once your grip on his pink hair loosens, throwing off his shirt and undergarments, exposing his ripped physique to you. Your eyes hungrily trail down the eight-pack, coming into contact with the tent in his loose pants. "I will try this one last time. Final chance. Tell me what your purpose is being here, now." His authoritative tone falls on horny ears. You shake your head, expression firm. He smiles. "Very well..." He strips off the rest of his clothing. Your eyes are trained on his hard dick, a look of panic behind them. He smiles and positions himself at your entrance, wrapping his hands on your soft hips. You seem to second guess yourself. "W-Wait--" "Too late, [Y/N]. You can't stop me from taking you now." He huskily interrupts, beginning to push into your tight pussy. You yowl, pushing your hands against his muscled abdomen. His grips tightens on your hips and despite your efforts, his cock continues to push inside of you, rendering you helpless beneath him. You gasp, shakily exhaling. Your weak arms eventually give up, falling to the sides of you in defeat. He enjoys your submission, fueling his lust for you. He pushes himself in all the way with a hard thrust, making you cry out in pain as your virginity is given to him. He sits there for a minute, relishing in his victory and at the tightness of your walls around him.

He shudders, his whole body rocking with it. It was painfully noticeable. It feels amazing to be inside of you. That's a fact he couldn't hide. "Oh [Y/N].~ You...ngh...feel marvelous.~" Hisoka moans heavily, his grip on your hips growing tighter to the point of being painful. You quietly groan beneath him, arching your back as he begins to move. He moves out and in slowly, testing the waters. You squeak, grabbling your death grip on the sheets on the bed, bunching the material up in your fists. What a sexy display. It'd be better if it was on him instead. He encourages you to grab his back by lowering his chest to touch yours, putting his face next to yours. He effectively covers your body with his own. You get the gist of what he's trying to do, raking your nails against his back as you grab at it. He shudders at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin and in response, thrusts into your tight pussy roughly. You yelp at the new sensation, throwing your head back as the pleasure surges through you. Hisoka treasures your expression of newfound enjoyment, really relishing in being the cause of it. He nips at your ear, groaning deeply when it causes your inner walls to convulse around him more. He'll use that knowledge at a later time. For now, he hotly exhales against your flesh, making you shiver against him. He sets out a slow and punishing rhythm, slowly pulling out before forcefully shoving himself back in. You cry out each time his hips meet yours, tears forming at the edge of your eyes from the intensity of his fucking. Hisoka simply smiles, deciding to speed things up a bit. He quickens his pace, smacking against your hips more frequently now. "How's it feel, [Y/N]? Tell me - mm - how my cock feels inside of you." He grunts, sitting up to gauge your reaction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at his dirty talk and Hisoka stops, almost cumming from the expression alone. He pants, pausing for only a moment. He awaits your response while he recovers, watching as your eyes return, your dilated [e/c] eyes looking into his lustful yellow ones. You attempt to roll your hips back onto him, but you fail horribly. You did, however, manage to sink down onto the rest of him, a moan leaving your mouth from feeling so full. Hisoka giggles. "So greedy for my dick~ Tell me how it feels, [Y/N].~" He puts your leg over his shoulder, opening you up more to him. He doesn't move. Not until you choose to respond, that is.

You whine at the lack of friction, glaring up at him with that desireful expression you hold. He smiles. You relent, closing your eyes. "Y-Your cock feels amazing, Hisoka." You admit, gasping and practically screaming as he continues his fucking you from the new position he put you in. Your eyes once again roll to the back of your head from the sheer force that he's pumping into you. You're a sweaty mess while Hisoka remains good as new, the workout hardly giving him any strain. You let out a cry as one of his thumbs connects with your clit, massaging it in time with his thrusts. Hisoka moans as you tighten around him and he continues to push into you, harsher now. Your vocality rings through his ears, heating up his body more if possible. His flushed face grows darker still and he singles in on his primary focus: making you cum again. He breathes heavily, thrusting into you at a now impossibly fast pace. Your moans feed into screams, your eyes closed from the intensity of his fucking you. He continues to finger your clit, focusing on your orgasm. He wasn't even close to his, but he decides that your release is more of a spectacle than his own. He zeroes in on it, listening as your moans reach a higher octave. Then, without warning, you arch your back for the last time, crying out as you reach your peak. Your walls milk him, but he refuses to cum, just watching your face as your orgasm rips through you for the third time. He'd definitely remember that face until he's cut from this world. He pulls out of you, settling on massaging your clit a little longer as you ride out the waves of euphoria. You twitch and moan breathlessly, gasping for air from the come down. Hisoka just watches, enjoying your facial expressions. You were certainly something. He stops touching you when you come down completely, breathing harshly. Your flustered eyes open, looking at his still lust-filled ones.

"I...," You start. Hisoka listens, tilting his head in curiosity. "I was assigned here to find you, Hisoka." You pant, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Your eyes are encircled in that hard set determination yet again as you tell him this. "My orders are to dispose of you." You admit, hardening your gaze. Hisoka smiles...and it's not a nice one. "Is that so?" He chuckles, flipping you onto your stomach.

"Tell me more as you sing for me...[Y/N].~ We've still got ten hours left for you to tell me all."

_______

Word count: 5,000+

Next chapter should arrive sometime today on Saturday, May 1st. I’m so sorry for the delay ;-;

#fanfic #hisoka x reader #hisoka smut #hisoka x reader smut #hunter x hunter smut