#I've mentioned it many-many-many times and I will just explode if I repeat it one more time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months

Note

hello seth! i don’t think my tumblr works with anon so i’ll just send it like this! i’m a huge fan of your writing and i absolutely adore it. whenever i am in the need for a good story and writing inspiration i go to your blog. so i was hoping if you could write a sally face fic! i haven’t seen too many on here and willing to write for m reader or ftm.

i like the thought of being with sally and just having time with him, soft domestic type stuff. then he starts asking you how you really feel about his face and you smile and take off his mask with permission and kiss him saying he’s beautiful and to not worry. you kiss him and hold him. he then sits up but keeps your lips locked and you begin to explore each other sexually but in a such intimate way you both are crying almost. if you want could be m reader but i would love a ftm reader! can we also have reader be bottom but still be guiding sally and affirming him. i know this is a big ask and you’re always working so hard so please take liberty with this ask! take what you want from it and remove what you don’t like. i just love you’re writing. take your time as well! writing can be draining sometimes and you really need to find that inspiration so i want to make sure you feel no pressure!

have a good day/night/evening!!<3

❝ I'll show you how we're supposed to feel (when we meet at Orion's belt) ❞

warnings: mentions of facial dysphoria, self-deprecating thoughts (Sal), unprotected sex, praise (a lot of it), minor hair pulling, creampies, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock, terms like cunt and boypussy are used)

masterlist ;

authors note: thank you so much for your kind words! hearing that you use my writing as writing inspiration made me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside oh lord 😭 you're too kind! This request was the softest one I've ever worked on, thank you so much for gracing me with the opportunity to write this~

*song on repeat: Orion's Belt by Sabrina Claudio / Baby Girl by SMNM

"Cold, cold, cold," Sal lifts his head from the couch. The sight of you rushing down the wooden stairs in nothing but a towel makes him lift himself to sit. "Fuck! Sal, you should put carpet in here!" Grinning, he leans forward and folds himself in half to stare at you furiously lifting the towel up to wrap around your shoulders instead.

"You hate carpet. B'sides, it'll get that weird moldy smell in here. I told you to get those fuzzy slippers," Gizmo meows in agreement from his corner of the couch. "Traitor!" you exclaim and he simply meows once again, lifting a leg to lick his stomach and Sal reaches over to give his head a good scratch.

"See? Even Gizmo agrees."

"Gizmo has in-built fuzzy socks. He has no say in this," your huffing and puffing simply makes Sal roll his eye, lifting Gizmo up to place the large cat right on his stomach while he props his head onto the armrest of the couch. Gizmo stretches out onto his torso, unbothered by the change in position while he presses his nose into Sal's chest and twists until he's nearly full on his back; the action makes Sal secure the old cat on him. His olive-toned arm loosely wrapped across Gizmo's purring body.

You're still rambling but it's all background noise to Sal. The sight of your bare legs and backside calls for his attention and despite how guilty he feels, he can't help but drag his sight all the way up to your — now — bare shoulders. The towel is now limply draped over the towel rack, and your muscles and bones are moving seamlessly underneath the fabric of your skin.

Everything about you can make him feel like he's going to explode. In a good way, if you can believe it. He sure as hell didn't. Sal remembers the first time he saw you, thinking you looked cool and that it was nice your interests lined with his. Somehow you managed to become more than that.

More always scared Sal. It was greedy and selfish. He wasn't religious but there was a sense of anxiety that came from wanting and needing more than you were given. Some sort of divine guilt was planted within him through passing by churches and reading the signs of worship plastered on billboards. Needing more is frightening, especially from other people.

More time spent with you two. More hours of listening to you speaking. More days spent with you in his home, bare skin and bare soul all for him and only him.

It frightened him!

Because, as self-centered as it sounds, he'd have to give you more. Don't take this the wrong way, he wants to — God, he wants to — but...but...

What if you don't like all that he has?

The fabric of his skin is spoiled. Marred. One of his eyes is artificial, his jaw asymmetrical, bone blown to bits, nose cut off and skin grafts stitched together and spliced.

His heart hammers in his chest, and his breathing is shaky as he squeezes Gizmo. The patch-furred critter mews, twisting once again and crawling up. His weight on Sal's chest is comforting. The pressure across it squeezed down on him, reminding his body that it was real and he was safe.

"In conclusion, I propose we buy a heater! That way we can — "

You're dressed in Sal's pajama pants, hands in the middle of pulling down the oversized band shirt when you notice Sal squeezing his eyes shut.

"Sal? Baby? What's wrong?" You sit by his legs, placing a hand on his knee and pressing your hands on it to ease him back down. "You're okay, baby. You're okay." It's not often Sal gets like this. You've known him ever since he came to Nockfell County; you know he's the type of person to withdraw within himself when his anxieties get the best of him. He's certainly gotten better with time and as your friendship — and eventual relationship — got stronger, the both of you worked on ways to lean on each other when things get tough.

Sal inhales deeply, Gizmo raising with the motion, and exhales. You don't pry more, giving him room to find the words and tether back to you. Gizmo's purrs muffle the silence.

"Sorry, just, the sight of your ass gave me a heart attack, Jesus," the joke is met with a loose grin but Sal knows you better than that. Still. He's grateful you snort at his jesting. Gizmo stands — Sal grimaces as he puts all his weight on his sternum — then walks over to your lap instead. The sight makes him calm down.

The faded grey of the once-black band shirt and his pajama pants do too. It's silly but the sight of you in everything that's his comforts a part of him. You're here. You're in love with him. Your gaze holds nothing but patience and adoration and a tinge of worry.

But you're here, in his clothes, in his room, his cat in your lap, and your hands on his body.

"You feeling better, Sal?" He nods, pushing to sit. "Do you wanna talk about it, baby?" Gizmo gives your chin one more bump before he jumps on the floor and meanders his way to his food bowl. Taking the chance, you inch closer to Sal and he's grateful for it.

You're not scared of the cold prosthetic on his face. The iron bolts that secure the straps to his face and head, the glass eye that shines humourlessly in any situation.

"Do you ever want...more from this? From me?" That line of questioning made your brows furrow and mouth frown. "What do you mean?" You reach for him and Sal reciprocates by holding your hand in his lap.

"I was joking about seducing Mr Smith from the electronics store for a heater," he scoffs at your lame joke but continues. "I don't mean that, I'll get us a heater. Just..."

"You've never seen...all of me." His grip loosens but you don't let it. "So?" he looks at you, his face angled low and the shape of his prosthesis mimics his brow bone. Sal is pinching his face, confused at your indignant tone.

"So?" He whispers. You lift his hand up, inching in closer and placing his knuckles over your clavicle.

"So?"

"Doesn't it freak you out? We've been together for so long and you've never seen my face," he murmurs. Since you're so close, speaking above a whisper would ruin this moment. Sal's heart is racing again though this time the anxiety is laced with his love for yours. It's a confusing emotion but he relishes the way you press your forehead to his, nose bumping with the bump on his prosthesis.

"Do you want me to see your face?" He inhales sharply, glancing away.

"...I do. But..."

"Mm?" you spread his fingers out, guiding them to your neck and the calloused pads of Sal's fingers make gooseflesh spread. The hairs on the back of your neck standing in applause; because that's what he does to you.

He makes your pupils expand, makes your heart race, makes your brain produce dopamine; your body lights up like a goddamn firework when he so much as looks your way. You can be yourself with him without fear because you know you do the same to him.

"...I've only ever let you kiss me when it's dark. The first time we had sex, I couldn't even take off the mask...I just...I'm..."

Your frown deepens when Sal sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"Be honest. Does it bother you?"

He's glad you don't reply immediately. A part of him always worries your love for him overtakes everything else. That, if something ever happens between the two of you and it tears you apart, you'll feel regret once the love is gone. You brush his hair behind his ear, cupping his jaw as you shake your head.

"No. It doesn't. Because it's you, Sal. I love you. Even the parts you aren't ready for me to see." He exhales and his breath escapes through the slits of his mouth. You feel it on your thumb and it makes you grin.

There's a twitch in his eye and your grin falters for a moment before it reappears when he locks eyes with you.

"...Do you want me to see your face, baby?"

His jaw is set. His tongue is made of lead. So Sal simply closes his eyes and gives you a minuscule nod. If it weren't for your hand on his jaw, you probably would've mistaken it for a twitch.

"Can I take off your prosthetic?"

Another nod.

"Are you sure, baby? I won't do it if you're not — "

"I'm sure." He says in one breath. "I'm sure."

A moment of silence was shared and you leaned forward to press your lips in the molding of his. The cool material does not pulse or pump with life but it's your Sal's and you cherish it deeply; he exhales shakily and you grin as your fingers dance through the locks of blue to find the straps that hold the prosthetic in place.

It's secure, it's meant to be, and you can feel the wear and tear of the years in the material. The scratches and indents weaved into every fiber. You unbuckle the lower end first and Sal tightens his hold on you, so you pause and press another kiss to his porcelain cheek.

When he nods, you continue, cupping the mask in one hand to steady it while you undo the upper buckle.

Sal would be statue-like if it weren't for the nervous tremors in his fingers. The mask loosens and its weight drops into your hand. His breath does not come through the slits anymore and you can feel it breeze through the fine hairs on your fingers.

He says nothing and neither do you. Still, you place one more kiss on the forehead of his prosthetic and lower it from view.

Sal has his eyes cast away, but he faces you. There's a large scar across the right side of his mouth, splitting his lips and exposing his teeth. There's a dent on the right side of his lower jaw that leaves his bone structure slightly unbalanced, and the cartilage of his nose is completely missing. The skin has healed, stretching his eye and tugging on the rest. It's pinkish still, never quite settling into the rest of his olive-toned skin, and Sal understands why it's jarring.

It's like peeling back the layers of what makes humans...humans.

The skin. The sight of his face makes people unnerved. Teeth and gums and muscles and the lack of a nose. One side of his face was a plain canvas and the other was a goddamn Jackson Pollock painting of horror.

Your touch on his bare skin shocks him. The pads of your fingers drag across his cheekbones. "Does it hurt?" You ask with your eyes lidded.

"No, no, it...it doesn't." You smile and your thumb rests just under his eyes, sweeping fondly while your palm holds his face preciously within your hand. There's a flush to his skin — it's not unusual with how the prosthetic held over his face nearly 24/7.

There's a feeling of nakedness that comes without the even pressure across his visage but your hands are an amazing substitute.

"You don't have to be nice," he says. "It takes a lot to get used to — "

"I know I can't completely convince you to not think of yourself as 'something to get used to' but you're not. Not to me." Sal's eye water and he wills himself to finally look at you.

There's a pinch to your brows, it makes your eyebrows cast this shadow across your eyes and highlight the colours of your eyes. You're frowning at his self-deprecation, though beyond that he can see you mean well.

"I would gladly sit on your face, Sal."

He scoffs, groaning as he slips away from your hand to toss his head back and flop right onto the couch again. "You're fuckin' impossible, (Y/N)," he mumbled as his hands covered his face. You place the prosthetic down on the makeshift coffee table near the couch and chuckle as you swing one leg over his hips and rest your crotch over his.

"What? I'm being honest here!" Bracing your weight on your elbows, Sal finds the comfort of your body across his similar to Gizmo's. "You're fucking beautiful," he squirms at that and you huff, nuzzling your face into his neck while he peeks from over his fingers.

"You don't have to say that," you huff once again. "I'm not saying that because I have to, I'm saying it because I want to. You're fucking beautiful, me being your boyfriend is just a coincidence."

He feels you shifting and instinctively, his hands rest on your hips and there he is again. You know you shouldn't stare, so you don't, but the shy glances at his face are less than secretive. His eyes are blue, cobalt almost, and his eyebrows are a darker shade of his hair. The shape of his eyes is rounded, with a deep crease and heavy eyelids just like his father's. Lifting your head, you gaze down at him and your hands are once again gingerly ghosting on his skin. This time, they're tracing his collarbones, feeling up the protruding muscle of his neck and halting at his jaw.

"Can I kiss you, baby?" He has a quirk. A lip twitch that he does when he's excited; you've been dating him for years and you're still finding out new things about your boyfriend. It makes your heart race and it only triples in speed when he nods. Hovering, the peak of your lips ghost his. He had always envied how you kiss his prosthetic. It was an extension of himself but he hated how badly he wanted to feel you on him.

They press to his and Sal slips his eyes closed. It's nothing more than a peck. Innocent, chaste. But then he's tightening his grip and pulling you in; tilting his head like he's always seen other people do and you're grinning into it. He knows because he can feel it.

He can feel it.

How your lips spread, the hint of teeth that slide over his bottom ones, and the crinkling of your nose that's brushing over his cheek.

"You taste so good, pretty boy," your words make his ears red. "I'm sure anything is better than kissing porcelain," he replies with a breathless tone, leaning forward again as if unwilling to part from you even if just to talk.

"No, don't disrespect yourself like that. What did we say about making those jokes." "Hah, I'll stop when you do."

Giggling, you're leaning in again. Sal wonders if kissing you is the only reason he's not completely in tears. The first time he'd accidentally showed Larry his face, he'd cried because Larry didn't look away from him. You taste tears on your lips and Sal curses softly as he tucks himself under your jaw, groaning. You shush him comfortingly, threading your fingers through his hair as he takes a few deep inhales.

"I love you." Those words are followed by more tears and you squeeze him again. "I love you, Sal," he nods against your — his — shirt. He can feel the grin you have from the crown of his head.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

Because you did. Sal was the man you wanted to be with until the Earth decided to throw in the towel; it didn't matter how buried your love for each other would be, because when your bones are dug up, or his guitar, or the treasure trove of things you've called yours; in the future, when you whisper to those archeologists: "Do you know?" they'd nod and reply, "We know you loved him."

Sal has never felt love like this. One that felt overwhelming at first, the same way entering a body would be for the first time in your life, but once he embraced the feeling? It was so...fulfilling.

How lucky was he?

Sal pulls away to cup your face and he leans in. You meet him halfway.

The feeling of your breath, your heart thudding against his own chest, the pulse beating under his thumb as he holds your neck — Sal isn't sure if he'd ever get into heaven but he doubts it ever compares to you.

His jaw moves and your lips part as you press closer. Fuck, kissing him felt like drinking in sunlight. There's a freedom that follows it, leaves you floaty and blissful.

"I love you," he replies between the friction, teeth biting down on your lower lip if only to hear if you'd gasp. You do.

"I love you so fuckin' much, (Y/N)." There's a feverish desperation in his words. But it makes your heart swell. There's no doubt in his eye, nothing but the truth and the truth is he'd worship you.

You're kissing again. Eager to show him the explosions he sets off within you. Between desperate lip locking and messy tangles of tongues, his hands move down and up your — his —shirt.

Squeezing your sides as he drags his digits across your skin. It spreads fire across your planes, has your already uneven breath shuddering as he memorizes the shape of your body again.

There's a growing hardness between his legs. You can feel it — twitching below your crotch as he tilts his head and tastes the lust that perspires from your neck.

He's greedy with his mouth. How could he not be? Sal has been wanting to taste you the second he realised how badly he wished you were his.

"Fuck, Sal." You groan, chewing on your lower lip as he experiments with this unmarked territory. His tongue is warm, his teeth brushes over pumping arteries with an air of amusement; when he finds the sweet spot? The spot where your breath hitched as he kissed it?

Sal makes your blood vessels explode. It isn't enough that the hairs on your neck stand in attention because of him, or how your blood rushes to your head when he so much as looks your way. He's determined to show you he can worship you in more ways than one.

You're gripping onto his shirt and your hips grind down. The moan he lets out makes your cunt wetter than before.

"I need you," you tell him as he sinks his teeth in. Just to test it out, to see if you'd like it. You do. His back feels cold as you lift his shirt but he grips at your wrist, panting as he moves his head away so you can see him.

"Can I...Can I keep it on?" He already felt a touch too exposed. You nod, reassuring him with a chaste peck.

"I'm gonna take of my shirt. You've made me all warm," he smiles a bit too smugly. He's handsome that way. When he gets a bit cocky — it's a sure fire way to make your head dizzy with desire.

"My shirt," he mumbles.

But when your bare torso is revealed the sass is pushed away. Sal presses kisses on your chest, teasing your perk buds with his too-warm hands and relishing in the way you toss your head back when he takes one in his mouth.

"Sal, holy fuck." He kneads at your ass, making your hips move back and forth. Rocking your clothed cunt over his boner as he leaves hickeys and bitemarks.

Here is where I plant my love, he thinks as he feels your heart pound against your ribcage, here is proof that he's mine.

Your pants are pulled below your waist and Sal moves back, making you yelp at the loss of balance. One second you're over him and the next, you're both tumbling over the couch.

His hand cradles the back of your head, curling over you as much as he could when you crash. Thankfully, none of you knocked into the coffee table but the adrenaline of the short fall makes the both of you wide-eyed.

"Holy fuck!" You laugh breathlessly. He scans you for any injury but soon follows suit. "You okay?" His hair curtains your face from view as he descends to claim your lips again.

"I'm peachy, baby." Sal grunts as you tug at the waist band of his pants. "Don't stop..." and how could he say no to you when you look up at him like that?

Your hands invade underneath his shirt and Sal moans as you press your fingers lightly into his back, kneading at the tense muscles. "M'not gonna take it off. Just wanna feel you," you assure as you reach his shoulder blades. God, the feeling of your hands on his body made him feel so Holy.

Ironic in the grand scheme of things but it's not like Sal gave a damn.

It's your turn to mark him up. He often already is. But this time your lips latch onto the obvious places. Lifting yourself to sit, Sal is suddenly at your mercy as you lovingly bruise him up with your mouth.

Sal lifts himself off your crotch a bit, panting and moaning at your ministrations, and slips his hand down your pants. Your breath stutters as your boyfriend touches your core.

"Sal," you plead. "I know, baby. I know," Sal frowns when you whine. "What? What's the matter, sweetheart?"

"You're just..." You're breathing heavily as you stare up at him, nails lightly digging into his skin as your dick twitches against his palm.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sal."

That catches him completely off-guard. He hates how tears immediately burn at his waterline but regret doesn't come when they travel down his cheek. You're kissing him and the self-depriciation doesn't once rise. That snivelling, hissing, voice of doubt remains mute as you hold him.

"So fucking pretty," he slips his finger in as if attempting to distract you with pleasure. It makes you keen but you continue to sing praises for him as he pumps his digits in and out of you.

It's hard to move when you curl your arms over his back, hands peeking from the stretched out collar of his shirt. Forehead once again pressed to his.

"I can't — "

"You're all mine. My pretty boy is all mine." Blood should not rush so quickly to one's head. His chest is dusted in red, his shoulders, his ear, the apples of his cheek —

"You feel so good, Sal."

You allow him to push you back, splaying out onto the floor with your eyes lidded in want as he looked at you.

"...Shit, you're making my brain go all stupid," he grumbles — it sounds more like a whine. You lift your hips as he tugs your pants down and off. Sal gets between your legs and for a moment you think he's about to just slide in — which causes you a bit of concern considering how much meat he's packing between his legs — but then he lays on his stomach and your cock peeks straight up.

"I've watched a few pornos," he says with a grimace, "but — "

"I can guide you, Sal." He's looking up at you with those doe eyes and you chuckle as you brush some of his hair back. "You made me cum from grinding on your goddamn leg before. You've got this, Sex Grandmaster Sal."

"Really don't think mentioning Larry's marijuana induced rambling is setting the mood, babe," your giggle smooths out the furrowed brows he had. "Sorry, sorry."

Your cunt is making his mouth water. Sal presses his thumb on your cock and the sigh you let out eases his worries. His tongue on your dick has you inhaling deeply, slowly, back arching off the floor as he looks up at you.

He's overzealous but fuck does it make you wetter than you've ever been. Licking and sucking on your cock while he teases the opening of your cunt with his fingers. The hints of teeth makes your hips twist but he holds your hips down with muffled groans.

"Fuck, yes. You're doing so good, Sal. S'fuckin' good — holy shit, babe," the way your voice gets all pitchy makes him grin. Your slick on his tongue is making him want more, so he spreads your lips apart and sinks his tongue inside, it makes your grip onto his head, and Sal moans into you at the pinpricks of pain that follow.

Fingers accompanies his tongue and you're clamping your thighs around his head. It forces Sal's face into your cunt and the whole thing has him chuckling against you.

Pinning your thighs apart, Sal licks and swipes at the slick around his mouth and chin, catching his breath as he curses.

"Fucking Christ, does it feel that good?" You whine in retaliation. "You're the one going down on me of course I'm going fuckin' crazy. You get all whiny when I go down on you too — "

He curls a finger inside of you and you cut yourself off with a particularly loud moan. The floorboards above you creak and like a deer lifting its head as a branch snaps in the distance, another follows as whoever was in the living room heard the echoing cries of pleasure.

Sal slips another finger in and you cover your mouth, glaring at his handsome face petulantly. It falters as he stretches you out, thrusting in and out with a steady rhythm that he occasionally breaks to curl his fingers up.

You're groaning and curling your toes, eyelids fluttering and squeezing shut as he jerks you off with his other hand. Loosening his jaw, Sal uses his spit to lube you up further. He had a thing for sloppy sex. You once joked he enjoyed the slick-and-slide of it all and he didn't deny it then and probably won't ever.

"Nuh - no, don't wanna cum yet, I wanna cum with you, baby," he slows his rhythm, staring at you as you lift yourself onto your hands and taste yourself on his lips.

"Want you inside me. Please, Sal, I'm beggin'"

"You don't have to. I've got you." He nods when you hold onto the waist of his pants. Pulling it down to his knees and let his cock spring out into the air. Fuck, it's a pretty dick.

It's fat and heavy. Thicker than longer, the girth always makes your toes curl. It's a darker colour compared to the rest of his skin tone, the mushroom tip a warmer shade that burns when you tease him too much. You motion for the couch and he leans against it, whispering your name as you hover over his cock.

"Fuck, you're so hot," he says as you pump his dick with your fist while you line it up to your cunt. "You're pretty fucking hot yourself, big dick," he struggles not to laugh in your face, shaking his head in 'disapproval' that's short-lived.

You sink down on the tip of his cock and Sal moans out your name, squeezing your hips. You shiver for a moment, willing your insides not to clench so excitedly when you've still got some ways to go.

"Shit, (Y/N). You're so fuckin' tight." You could not agree more. The more you go down on him, the more you're tempted to just squeeze him like a vice. Sal brings your face down to kiss him, very quickly becoming addicted to the feeling of it. It's no wonder teenagers made out in the hallways all the damn time.

Gravity helps you the rest of the way. When he's all the way inside of you, you part your lips, the way your eyebrows slope being felt on Sal's forehead as you clench around him.

"Fuuuuck, Sal" you're whimpering his name, arms wrapped around his neck as you look at him. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby."

He swallows thickly, reaching to push your hair away from your face as he gazes up.

"I love you, so fuckin' much. I love you, Sal," you're determined to make him turn into nothing but mush. He's certain of it. His insides felt like a field of flowers, all blooming at once, even if it didn't sense at all. There's an airy moan that escapes him as you squeeze your inner thighs, your hips move forward and Sal grips you like he's afraid you're just a figment of his imagination.

"I know, baby," he whispers back. "I love you, more than you can imagine."

A dopey grin appears on your face. "You think you can show me how much you love me, handsome?" He smiles and your heart feels like it's going to stop.

"I can do more than show you, pretty boy."

He turns you over on your side, not once pulling out. You hastily grab some couch pillows for the both of you before your descent onto the floor. It's cold but that's all the more reason to hold onto each other.

Once your head is on a pillow and you're on your back again, he drapes over you.

Another kiss. Another mischievous nibble. A sly dance of tongues.

Sal is pulling out, the drag of his dick makes you whimper, and thrusts back home. The action has your nails leaving welts on his back but it just reinvigorates him.

He's splitting you open and filling you up. Every thrust makes you see stars. You're unwilling to let him go if the legs wrapped around his waist are saying anything.

But Sal is growing flustered the more praises you tell him.

"That's it, baby. Fuck this pussy, this pussy's just for you."

"Fuck, you look so good, baby. On top of me, fucking me, shit — !"

"Oh, God, your cock is — yeah, right there! — you're in so deep, Sal -Ah!"

You're so fucking filthy.

He wants to hide his face in your neck but he doesn't wanna take his eyes off you. Eyes trailing where his lips and teeth had been, eyeing the sheen of sweat on you and your messed up hair.

The shower you just took had been in vain, huh?

"Fuh - fuck, I'm close," he warns, bracing himself on his elbows as he hovers above you.

"Yeah? Me — mff! — too. Cum inside, baby. Need to feel you — fuuuuck — dripping outta' me," he chuckles breathlessly at your words.

His hips are stuttering and he can see the way your brows are furrowing, angelic moan after angelic moan being knocked out of you. He gives your cock a rub and the way your back arches off the floor makes him hold his own orgasm back just so he can see you like this as clearly as he can take it in.

"Sal, oh fuck, baby!"

"I've got you, (Y/N)."

He chokes out a groan as he feels you clamping down on him, your cunt gripping onto him like it never wants him to let go. You gasp as he snatches your breath, messily making out with him as the aftershocks of your orgasm are barrelled through thanks to Sal's deep thrusts.

"Shit, shit, shit," you smile as he begins to lose his rhythm. Ignoring how sensitive your boypussy feels as he chases his end. "C'mon, baby, fill me up. Yeah, that's it."

He cums with one final thrust. The warmth of it floods your insides, earning pleasant shivers from you as you moan out his name. He's riding his orgasm out, pushing in and out of you shallowly as he catches his breath above you.

"Jesus, fuck..." You giggle at his words, chest rising and falling in rapid motions as your heart tries to calm down.

"That was, Christ, that was — " "Fucking amazing?"

He nods, falling on top of you as carefully as he can. You embrace him, humming as he kisses your neck while you rub his back. The both of you catch your breath, satisfied expressions etched on your faces.

When Sal moves, your eyes are already closed. He pulls out and you whimper at the loss, ignoring the way he stares at his own jizz dripping out of your cunt in favor of gazing at his face.

"We gotta take a shower all over again," he says, helping you sit up and accepting the hug you give him when you're righted.

"...Wanna do it all over again in the shower?" Your question earns a throaty chuckle. "Thought it was implied in my statement."

Another beat of comfortable silence is shared. Sal sighs, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Thank you, (Y/N)."

"I've got you, Sal."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #ftm reader #trans reader #sally face x reader #sally face x male reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x male reader

197 notes · View notes

words-are-fireproof · 1 year

Text

Year of Song: Symmetry - Joel Miller

(*gif by @slained)

Summary: The outbreak took many things. The same shots that took Sarah away from him were the same shots that left a near-permanent ringing in his ears, normal sounds not as sharp as they once were. Bitterness rose sharply in his throat, and that’s when he downed the moonshine and the pills, trying to chase it away.

Word count: 1.7k

Rating: M

Warnings: drug addiction, drug use, alcoholism, addiction, grief, Joel is a raw, throbbing, wound, asshole!Joel, possibly ooc Tommy and Joel, mentions of child death, SPOILERS if you've not seen the episode or know what happens in the games, possibly bad google translate Spanish that you will have to translate yourself. :)

A/N: Here it is! My first fic for @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms Year of Creation challenge. Not really a challenge, but that's what I've been calling it. I've decided to do a year of song. The first song is called Symmetry by SYML. Thank you to @wyn-n-tonic for looking over this fic and suggesting ways to punch it up. I'm incredibly rusty, but this is my first Joel fic and I still like it.

You can listen to Symmetry here.

[Masterlist] || Series Masterlist || Part Two

-----

Take heed, my son

The darkness will come

Blackholes will bend the proudest ones

And change up your symmetry

He’d never been one to drown himself to ignore the pain. He couldn’t. He didn’t have a choice. Sarah needed him. Tommy needed him. He didn’t have time to indulge. When could he when he had to build houses to support himself? Being a single parent didn’t lend to selfish desires. But that didn’t mean he didn’t hide the pain. He told himself all the working, the exhaustion, was so that Sarah didn’t have to want for anything. He believed that. However, he didn’t know if Sarah believed it.

Joel gave Sarah credit where it was due, though. She was a smart kid. She took care of him when he couldn’t take care of himself. When the overwhelming responsibilities of adulthood took over, she picked up the pieces. He didn’t admit it to himself at the time, but he knew if he ever lost her, he’d fall apart. Nothing would get done. He’d hole himself up at the house and never leave. Not for Tommy and certainly not for himself. So, yes. All the work he threw himself into was for Sarah. That’s what he told himself.

It was a lie.

Sarah’s presence didn’t stop the nightmares. The long days didn’t exhaust him enough to let him drift off into dreamless slumber. At night, he relived the pain. It seeped into the edges of his subconscious, playing over and over again. Blood splattered on the sand. Bombs exploding. Pieces of his squadmates were strewn over the desert, torn about by bullets or car bombs or god knows what else. It never stopped. The nightmares often morphed and shifted to night terrors far worse that he wouldn’t dare repeat.

The mornings after those nightmares were the hardest. No amount of coffee he drank dulled the persistent throbbing at the base of his skull. No amount of Tylenol helped either. Tommy’s incessant conversation at the job site didn’t help either. He spent the day in a grumpy fog, until he got home, trying to perk up for Sarah when she made dinner. But even then, he saw the way she looked at him, worry in her brown-eyed gaze. When he saw that look, he always tried to adjust the mask he knew was slipping. He hated worrying her.

If she saw him now, he knew there’d be more than worry in her gaze.

He tried not to think about that.

It started almost immediately following the outbreak. The cravings. The need to drown his sorrows in something that he could get lost in. At first, Tommy tried to keep him from it. They’d pilfered some bottles in a liquor store up north. When Tommy found a brand new bottle near empty from a late-night binge, he poured it out, denying Joel the opportunity to drink again. Joel fought him on it. He told his little brother it was nothing. Just something to help him sleep when the sleeping nightmares kept him in the waking one; when it felt like his heart was shattered glass. Just like Sarah, Tommy didn’t believe him. Joel had a hard time believing it himself.

But he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He’d denied the pull to addiction for so long, the lingering presence of it becoming like a close friend. A love. Then something different altogether. Something far more sinister lurked in the background like a hidden phantom, shifting into the myriad faces of the dead. They taunted him until the cold tendrils of loathing and hate curled deep into his heart. It threatened to suffocate him and drown him far more than the drink ever could.

When he and Tommy joined the hunters it got worse. Half a bottle of liquor at night turned into one whole one drank over the course of the day. His hands shook when he didn’t have his drink. He tried to ignore Tommy, the constant nagging making his life a living hell. Couldn’t he see he was grieving? Couldn’t he see that he missed Sarah and saw her in every dead, mutilated body he passed on the street? Why couldn’t Tommy leave him alone? Let him close off the parts of himself that made him human and let him numb the parts left over.

The pills came later. One of the hunters knew a guy who knew a guy in the Atlanta QZ. Or something like that. He never asked questions. As a hunter, it was discouraged. He learned very quickly that questions encouraged dissonance within the group. They had a leader. The rest of them were just muscle. He had no problem being the muscle that got something done. He had no problem luring people in, in the hopes of getting much-needed supplies. Maybe it should have bothered him—should've eaten him—but it was what he was good at. A good soldier never forgot how to survive.

The first time Tommy saw him down two hydros and three fingers of bathtub moonshine together was the first time he’d ever seen his baby brother get genuinely upset with him. He’d never seen Tommy so angry. Tommy, the baby. Tommy, the one who never knew what to do in a crisis. Tommy, the one always getting in trouble. Joel had to bail him out of the drunk tank that night—never forgave him for that. If he’d been with Sarah instead like he should’ve been, would she have gone downstairs? If he’d been in bed when she came looking for him, would she still be here? He ate himself up with the ‘what ifs’.

The sky appeared pitch black that night. Not even the light of the camper lanterns seemed to pierce the inky blackness. The makeshift common room created in the building the hunters invaded some miles away from the closest QZ–Boston if his memory served–glowed with an eerie white light, but only in the immediate area of the lanterns. Outside the lanterns, the darkness permeated the hidden corners. The only indication other people inhabited the building was the low drone of voices he heard in the background, muffled and barely audible.

The outbreak took many things. The same shots that took Sarah away from him were the same shots that left a near-permanent ringing in his ears, normal sounds not as sharp as they once were. Bitterness rose sharply in his throat, and that’s when he downed the moonshine and the pills, trying to chase it away

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Tommy snapped, practically reaching over to snatch the glass from his fingers.

He didn’t even know Tommy was in the room.

“Christ, Tommy,” he jerked away from his brother. The only other person in the common room of the hunters’ hideout watched them warily. Joel could feel his eyes on them.

“Goddamnit, I asked you a question, Joel. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Surviving.”

“Surviving?” his brother snapped incredulously. “That’s not surviving, Joel. You’re gonna kill yourself. Or is that what you want?”

“Fuck you, Tommy. Fuck off.” He stood in a flourish, stalking to the area he called his own, hoping to be left alone with his pills and his booze. Let it drown out the thoughts screaming in his head.

Tommy immediately followed after him, not allowing him a single moment of respite. That sounded about right. His brother might be the baby of the two of them, but Joel always felt overshadowed by him. Even now it felt no different. Tommy got the credit. Tommy had to act holier than thou when they both knew he’d pulled him fall-down drunk out of a bar on more than one occasion. The double standard grated on his nerves even now.

“No, you don’t walk away from me, Joel.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Christ. You know how stupid this is?”

“Well, maybe you can be the responsible one of the two of us now. That’d be a revolutionary concept.”

“Fuck you, Joel. You see what I’m doing here. You know what I’m capable of.”

He flopped onto a ratty armchair shoved into the corner of his makeshift room. “I know what you’re capable of now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know.”

“I don’t know, Joel. What the fuck are you holding over my head now?”

“You didn’t help me when I needed you,” Joel said sharply.

The realization dawned heavily on his brother’s face. Good. It needed to. Let him remember that night. Let it drown Tommy like it had him. Let the hand of grief hold him under the water until it filled his lungs and sank him under the waves. His baby brother needed to know what he felt like—why he needed the drink, the pills. He didn’t need to explain anything to Tommy. He didn’t deserve that explanation.

Tommy carded his hand through his hair. Joel could see the way his chin quivered from across the room.

“No es justo. Sabes que no había nada que pudiera hacer.”

“Podrías haberlo intentado,” he snapped. “Sal de mi cara.”

Joel tried to ignore the way Tommy looked like he could shatter in front of him. Some sick, twisted part of him wanted his little brother to crumble. He wanted him to fall apart so he could stomp on the pieces and grind them into the ground. Never let him recover. If Joel had to hold himself together with substances like glue, Tommy should, too. Joel wanted to feed his own sick, twisted, grief with his brother's.

For his part, Tommy held it together, his ragged breathing the only indication that anything was wrong. The silence hung heavy, but they didn’t speak to each other. There was nothing more to say. If Joel spoke, neither of them would recover from it. He was grateful when his baby brother took his leave, the tension in the room releasing, but the tension inside of him percolated dangerously. Bile rose in the back of his throat, and he chased it away with another few fingers of booze.

He’d never been one to drown himself to ignore the pain. But now, he welcomed the bottom of the bottle and the sweet darkness of a quiet mind beneath the drugs.

Anything to forget what he never could.

37 notes · View notes

zarisdonut · 1 year

Text

My thoughts after watching Wednesday

Okay so since Wednesday came out only yesterday, there's still a bunch of my moots on twt that haven't seen it yet so I decided to express myself here since it's more of a safe space for spoilers and stuff and I will explode if I don't talk about it.

(Wednesday spoilers down below btw)

Okay so first, it was a pretty good show. I think I would've liked it much more if it didn't have that many ∼straightness∼ in it but that's just my very biased opinion cause straight people tire the shit out of me but what are you gonna do lol.

Also, these are my thoughts. If you do not agree, it's okay. I don't want to fight anyone (basically bc I don't have the energy for that) but I am always up for debating and exchanging different ideas.

PLOT

I think that plotwise, the show was pretty awesome. They didn't do anything completely new, never-seen-before or anything like that, but it was enjoyable. Some parts were a bit predictable but I also can't complain because this is, after all, a tv show about teenagers so there are obviously some tropes that are always gonna repeat themselves, which isn't exclusively bad. For example, I always love a good prom/ballroom scene, so yeah. Also, I think that even tho there were times everything was a bit cliché, they still found a way to make it interesting and not want to make me turn off my computer lol.

Also there were a bunch of times when stuff didn't make much sense? Like for example in the competition part. If there are no rules, why didn't they just exploit that? Like, if I had been in there, I would've used an engine for the boat, for example. It's little things like this that make me v mad, cause I feel it doesn't make sense. But I understand that it might just be me cause I tend to think in a more logical way than anything else and also, I'm a hell of a perfectionist, so yeah.

WRITING

This part is one of the most important ones for me (along with character development) and even though I thought that it was overall brilliant, there were some parts of the dialogue (not lots of them, but a few) that felt a bit cringe and that took me a bit out of place. Like, most times when I was watching the show, I felt totally immersed in the story and then BAM. There's a line where I'm like "oh. That's- No." Like, idk how to explain it but they just took me out of the story and I came back to myself, watching a TV Show abt teenagers instead of living in it. (idk if this makes sense lol)

ACTING

Special section to literally BOW to miss Jenna Ortega cause hOLY sHIT girl. I couldn't have imagined anyone better as Wednesday Addams.

THE CHARACTERS

Okay so here is where ∼probably∼ I'm the most conflicted of it all. I found the Addams family (special mention to Wednesday, obviously) truly amazing. It's true that I've known the Addams for a long time and I was already emotionally attached to them, so idrk if I find them amazing because I already knew abt them, or bc they are one of the few characters that are well-made in the show.

But apart from them, all the other characters I found them a bit bland. Where's the flavour, babes? Put some goddamned spices in it, god. Like, all of them fit a certain trope, which I'm not mad about cause at the end of the day all the characters in the world fit a certain group, but the thing is that none of them really stand out. There's nothing really special abt them, and considering that this is literally about a school full of vampires, witches (well, idk if they're actual witches but you get it), werewolves and sirens.... is deeply concerning to me. Like, there's not one character in there that I feel could be remembered, and the bad thing about all of this is that there is so much potential. It's physically painful, actually. (I might do another post with my ideas of how to improve some of the characters to make them seem more interesting according to myself, but we'll see)

I do understand, however, that this show is abt Wednesday, and she is supposed to be the 'special one' since she's the main character, but that doesn't mean you have to write the other ones as plain as a blank sheet of paper. I certainly could go on and on, but I don't want this post to be longer than it needs to lol. Maybe I could do another one where I get into the characters a bit more (cause analysing shit is like, my only thing) so yeah.

RELATIONSHIPS

Yep, here's where my ∼most unbiased∼ opinions end, cause yes, I'm obviously gonna trash all the romantic relationships of the show.

First: what the fuck was that.

Second: No, but fr. What the fuck was that.

I thought we were over the phase of guilting girls into going on dates with guys they're not interested in, but I guess not?

It still astounds me how none of the romantic pairings have a single atom of chemistry in them. And my question is, did they even try? Cause holy shit bro it was hard to watch. (Not talking abt the acting. Its more of a writing problem, I think)

Also, these romances added literally nothing to the storyline. Especially Enid's. Why are yall wasting screen time with useless plotlines and uneventful couples? Can't you use those minutes for something better? Like, literally anything atp. I have at least 20 ideas off the top of my head.

N e ways, moving on... Like I said in the beginning, I barely tolerate straight ships anymore, and sometimes I even gaslight myself into believing they're not that bad, that it's just me, but not here.

Wednesday Addams is the kind of character you can't just push to have a relationship with the first person she meets. And you certainly cannot write her in a love triangle because it just won't work. And what happened in the show? It didn't work. I'm actually really mad at this because that just tells me the writers/the people who were in charge of the show didn't get her character.

First of all, I don't think Wednesday should have a love interest, but if you, for some inexplicable reason wanted this, you need to play the long game. And by long game, I mean SO. MOTHER. FUCKING. LONG. I could make an entirely separate post abt this but I'm going to try to sum it up as well as I can.

Wednesday doesn't get attached to people. In fact, she hates people. So making her fall for someone to me is straight-up bullshit, but we're not gonna go there right now.

She is an egomaniac. If she doesn't find someone useful, she's not gonna talk to them. Obviously, that's not love. So apart from the "regular" process of liking someone, you also need to take into account this extra process that needs to happen. She has to go from "only seeing X as a tool" to "starting to acknowledge X as another human" ending in "holy shit I might like X".

So what I think they shouldve done is invest in friendships first. Build a good relationship with her love interest first, and everything else will come along when it needs to come along.

For example with (and yall prob know who I'm gonna say) Enid. I wouldn't say I ship them per se, but the development is there yk. I like the way their relationship evolved, and I think that if they were gonna give our main girlie a love interest, it would have to be like this (I'm not saying it necessarily needs to be her, but also I wouldn't be mad abt it).

Anyways, those are my main thoughts rn. Believe it or not, I did try to keep it short (lol) but I just get so motivated talking abt these things hehe.

If you stuck around to read what a random stranger on the internet had to say abt a tv show abt teenagers with weird abilities, you're the real one. If my brainrot continues, I'll probably make more of these posts analysing different stuff but with more depth n stuff, so maybe we'll see each other again, who knows.

Until then, have a very nice day and drink water.

Kindly,

The random stranger on the internet

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday spoilers #wenclair

26 notes · View notes

mrcspectr · 2 years

Note

rn the roomie is showing off the House Weaponry and i was thinkin abt the way marc kind of . seems to ? avoid fighting with knives ? and was just like . exploding bc im. watching the way marc brawls on the rooftop & he . he constantly knocks knives to the ground but he keeps his own hands weapon-free. the moment marc gets his hands on a knife, the fight’s over too quick (at least for bad guy #1)- and suddenly steven takes the wheel.

and then the next time there’s a knife in Marc’s hand it’s certainly not nice and shiny like it was before- no, it’s buried in bad guy #1’s gut. there’s so much more blood.

… listen i came into this ask wondering if marc and jake had different styles of fighting with weapons- with knives specifically- and walked out with too many more questions than i had answers.. Marc’s movements with the knife were. very certain and fluid- well practiced, even. and yet he seems to shy away from picking one up- he sticks to his fists.

It doesn’t help that there’s not much footage on how jake uses a knife, we just see the .. result. anyways this is for you to munch on when you find a spare thought cos i know this’ll be rotating in my brain on repeat for a goooood long while. skdjdksj byeeee

Percy, have I ever mentioned how much I love when you talk to me about House Weaponry? lsdgjskljgs ANYWAY. I have.. commentary on this.

So, in that scene on the rooftop, there's three guys he's fighting total, five knives (the particularly flashy guys are carrying two. Y'know. For funsies, I guess.) The confrontation starts with Marc being, bless his heart, more himself than we see very often. A little sassy, a lighthearted jab here and there. Oh shit, you killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. Oh. What, are we dancin'? We fightin'? What are we gonna do? He's more comfortable, the situation more familiar.

And throughout the fight, he's more focused on getting the knives out of their hands. He disarms, but he doesn't necessarily take advantage of the weapon itself. (It's something we learn in combat self defense, your best chance of survival is to take the knife out of the fight entirely.) Marc's strategy is this:

Guy #1: Dodge the first slash so the knife is already directed away from him, takes his wrist holding the second knife, forces it in the same direction so both points are no longer a threat, and uses his own momentum to push him away, falling to the ground.

Kid and Guy #2: In the time it takes Marc to land a solid kick on someone else, the kid manages a good slash against his back, distracting him from the older men. When he tries again, Marc grabs at the wrist holding the knife, twisting the joint in a way that makes it fall from his grip. It's important to note too that he hesitates for a second, striking his back with an open palm instead of a closed fist. Less pain, more jarring or surprising than anything.

Guy #1 again: He crosses the guys arms across each other, making it pretty difficult to near impossible to stab forward. He brings his knee up to strike his wrist, and so another knife falls. The second knife comes up, and Marc strikes again to the same result.

With every motion and decision Marc makes, a weapon falls to the ground. But he doesn't reach for it, not until the end. And even then he's angry, the adrenaline is pumping, he's reaching for that familiar violence, but at the last moment, Steven steps in. That's enough.

And I used to think it was so strange, because Marc's very familiar with utilizing the crescent darts when he's wearing the suit. There are multiple times he uses them to stab, to cut, to slash, in the same way a knife would be handled. So why did he seem so against taking advantage of a dropped weapon, when he was very clearly outnumbered? And then I remember this line:

Or it was just a way for me to keep being what I've always been. A killer.

And that is Marc's entire struggle with his identity as Moon Knight, isn't it? He refuses to accept that certain satisfaction he finds in his own violence, because in doing so, he thinks he's confirming everything his mother ever made him believe. He finds it easier to use those weapons wearing the armor because he thinks he can almost.. draw a line between himself and what he becomes as an Avatar. He can separate the two.

And by trying to put those different parts into neat little boxes, that is what causes him to believe he hates being Moon Knight. Because he puts all that anger and violence, those things that he hates, all in that same box. That internal conflict arises when the line becomes blurry, or it disappears entirely, like that moment on the rooftop.

#i love that bit on the rooftop because like #idk he just seems a bit less hindered by guilt #before things get too out of control it's like he feels lighter #it makes what comes after with the death and the kid so much more devastating for him #because you can see in his face how the walls come back up again #marc baby we have some things to sort through #the marc spector effect: deny and compartmentalize #iscarusholmes #asks #mk meta #long post #oof sorry #percy tag

57 notes · View notes

queen-boudicca · 2 years

Text

Next up in the nuwho rewatch, the end of the world!

I've also decided to add two things to each post: whether the episode passes the bechdel test (in anticipation of the moffat era bc I'm petty) and whether it makes me cry. For this episode:

Bechdel test pass: yes

Makes me cry: no (but almost though)

The end of the world

"I know exactly where to go" *takes her to the destruction of her planet* good job nine

"You lot. You spend all your time thinking about dying. Like you're gonna get killed by eggs or beef or global warming or asteroids. But you never take time to imagine the impossible. That maybe you survive" help

The music is so beautiful help

This one has some bits a little like Martha's theme

"Mind you, when i say 'the great and good', what i mean is the rich" ily so much nine

Jabe!! I love her

The adherents of the repeated meme [insert ah bit like you then]

"I give you, in return, air from my lungs" he's so smooth omg

"Ladies and gentlemen and trees and multiforms" the four genders

'The Arctic desert' — is that a commentary on global warming or Cassandra being a liar

If there were only a few songs that survived the destruction of the earth and were what people remembered us by, tainted love and toxic are pretty good bops I'm not complaining

God the way they introduced the time war and destruction of gallifrey are so fucking good

Nine's offhand mention of fighting in the war in the previous episode, the way jabe scans for his species and doesn't believe it, etc

It's so well done!!

The way Rose doesn't talk at all to any of the fancy rich people at the party but happily (and more comfortably) strikes up conversation with the workers she meets on the station!! Such good characterization you love to see it

She asks Raffalo for her name immediately and emotionally opens up to her

"Thank you for the permission. Not many people are that considerate" they really said fuck the rich

Rip my girl, Raffalo. You were super sweet and i miss you

"They're just so alien! The aliens are so alien. You look at them... and they're alien" ily rose

And he's like evading her questions about who he is and where he's from and when she doesn't stop he gets angry and ugh his arc is so good

And she can tell it's a sore topic for him so she breaks the tension w a joke

They're so good for each other

ROSE'S THEME MY BELOVED

Love how there's a button on his keyboard that lowers the sun filter and instakills anyone inside

Maybe they shouldn't have added that when they did the designs

Jabe and nine besties

I want an au where she and Raffalo survived and traveled with nine and rose and are their respective besties

Not sure I'm a big fan of the implications that cosmetic surgery makes you less human/real

"I just wanted to say how sorry i am" and she's touching his arm and comforting him and aagh the tears in his eyes and he's touching her hand too and WE COULD HAVE HAD IT ALL RTD WHY DID SHE HAVE TO DIE i know why it's bc (a) he would've invited her to come with and they didn't wanna deal w that (b) we needed the first person we see comfort him to die saving him bc he's not allowed to be happy and neither am i

Seriously though they've been really good this episode about making you care about the minor characters that die (i mean most of them. Not very torn up about the steward)

TOXIC

Such a bop

That's why they had such bad special effects; they blew all their budget on song rights

I mean the heat in the room would've killed her way before the direct beam of sunlight would've but oh well

The spider robots are really kinda cute shame they're evil

Really polite of her to monologue her entire plan

Great design, putting the important switch on the other side of all the fan blades

Nine baby if you hadn't argued with her and just ran there probably would've been time

DON'T TURN AROUND AND LOOK AT HER JUST GO

oh damn rip the moxx of balhoun ig

JABE NO

Nine's theme my beloved

Wow the earth kinda looked like an eye while it was exploding

Angry nine is so good i love it

The definition of people is a technicality the courts will argue over? Oh please

First of all they're not even speaking English and there's way the doctor would've used a word that didn't mean like sapient beings or some shit

Also c'mon like there aren't laws against killing sentient beings by the year 5 billion regardless of what word you use

Rose's theme again my beloved

"You think it'll last forever. People and cars and concrete. But it won't. One day, it's all gone. Even the sky." I'm fine

Nine's theme again my beloved

I'm beginning to think they didn't have that much music composed for this

Next up, ghosts and Charles Dickens and Gwen's great great great grandmother!

#nuwhorewatch #ninth doctor #the end of the world #doctor who

6 notes · View notes

rose-coloured-angel · 8 months

Text

Some bad poetry under the cut (tw: this one is emotional and blood mention. Meant to be read aloud like a slam poem)

I can't go to sleep

Same thoughts on repeat

They haunt and me and taunt me and won't let me dream

I'm starting to scheme

A way to escape all the pain and pin all the blame and walk away from me

I keep having nightmares

These fears and tears and all of the years that are piling up on my shoulders

Enough to explode, don't wanna go home

Cause home's where the heart is and mine had been stomped on too many times

No I am not fine

I'm thinking of ending it all tonight

Focus.

I just gotta focus.

Breathe in and breathe out,

From your nose and your mouth

Breathe in and breathe out and breathe in and get out and breathing and get out and get out and get out and get out and-

This isn't working

Grab something to soothe me

Something to ease the pain I'm trying to reframe my memories but they keep jumping me

They keep coming and keep holding onto me

Gotta let go of me

Gotta sleep but I am too tired, hot wired and the blood in my eyes it is blinding me

Blood on my hands

There's no blood on my hands

But my dreams of it, no, my nightmares of it, my deep fears of it

Darkest part of my heart, don't even start

I don't wanna start but I'm spiraling

Circle the drain and replay all the pain and repeat everything over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and-

[Take me home, I wanna go

I wanna go home

But home is a place I've never known.

Home. I wanna go home.

I wanna be held 'cause I'm falling apart

But I don't trust the people who say that they are there for me,

I don't like my family

I think I was destined for violence cause violence is the thing that created me

Cursed.

I think I'm cursed.

I think I'm the worst thing to walk this green earth

Not worth any time, money, or oxygen

I am a waste of space

I'm just a basket case

Doctor please tell me I can be fine someday]

Yeah, I'm over my head in it

Think I might drown in it

Flood water rising it's sizing me up before it attacks to swallow me whole again

I'm not my only friend

I don't even like me but the demons inside me keep talking and spitting their insults and injuries

Gotta get out of me

But people get scared when you're on the edge of the roof and they see you and try to appease you but you do not know me

You don't know my demons like I do

I am shutting my eyes again.

Try to get through the night again.

Pretending to sleep but I am staring at the back of my eyelids

I am an island

The water is shark-infested

I am infected

By some kind of disease

Black ink that bleeds like oil from out of me

Gotta get away from me cause if you touch me the oil's on you like a stain or bad memory

I don't have a family

I have people I live with who don't even know me who I do not know

I am tired of hope

I am tired of hoping that light at the end of the tunnel will shine one day,

Wanting to be alive someday

I've been walking for years and I am not nearer to anything

Things couldn't be clearer

I shouldn't be here

God why am I here?

0 notes

dal22nd · 1 year

Text

no rlly, to my twin? soulmate? enemy?

hi baby!!! did ya miss me!!!

yeah, look... i bet ur ass watched the video below first out of curiosity (or not?) but hey!!! i'll try keep it brief and short like a sbar for u, bbg...

i just thought i'd kinda crossover with a tumblr blog, yanno... since we don't rlly aff anymore and so all i could do is fucking make a tumblr blog abruptly to compensate for how stupid i was last year for fucking up ur birthday when U literally make it in time every SINGLE time??? bro... i... am still dwelling over that...

but...

happy 22nd birthday, dalena!!! <3333 ur finally old, like actually old??? and knowing u, i bet ur extremely excited for the new events and challenges to find u, like i bet ur ass is about to explode in excitement like yeah!!! come at me, 22!!! u piece of shit!!! i'm gonna be rich at the age of 22!!@@@@@@!! ok, but in all seriousness, we're spending ur second birthday together!!! <: i'm so glad we made it so far, but i'm also dumbfounded yet pleasantly surprised at how it's ONLY been two years??? it feels like more, but looking back at the memories we made makes it feels like it's too less??? if that makes sense??? replaying our old videos and reminiscing our old photos made me realise how much more i'd love to stick by u and do more dumb yet cute things together??? i want to explore parts of the world with u with laughs and giggles like we always do, and even go on dates with our future boyfies together one day... like there's just so much to accomplish and left to do with u, and i'm so honoured and happy to have somebody to do everything with!!! i think i'm incredibly lucky to just have u come across my mind immediately when i think of wanting to do things, because i know so many people who lack that particular person in their lives,,, sure, it can be their significant other or a member of their family but truly, i believe that a friendship like ours is quite rare and special?? if i could flex something of mine, u would literally be the first thing (yeah, thing) without a doubt,,, <3

i've always shielded myself from judgement by feigning nonchalance most times (as u would know.. or gaslight..) and never really disclosed details about myself or inner feelings to anyone out there, which includes my family, but towards u???? i feel exposed at times to the point it makes me trip over me and my own deep thoughts; but i've always concluded that it's never actually a bad feeling, it's more so a foreign feeling... i would've never chose to do this alone, but it's because u!!! are the person who drew me out to be more true about myself!!! u hold the capability of doing so because you've grown up that way, u observe carefully and ask what's right and know what's right---you're intelligent, u read people and ur confident about urself, hence why ur able to do such magical things---like sure, i don't hold any power to stamp and validate the fact that this is the exact reason why u are the definition of perfection, etcetera, but i strongly think that's the essence to why i'm unknowingly happy to open up towards u, and i'm sure it's not just me who feels this way anyway?? i exaggerate it all the time, but i'm never too fancy with words irl nor am i as expressive irl, i just fucking cry like a mf pussy and call it a day since i'm poor at mustering and conveying my thoughts as whole when i'm put into the situation... idk if anything i said makes sense, but whenever i'm facing an opportunity to be more truthful towards u, that's the first thing i always want to mention (man.. ur gonna see how many times i'm repeating this shit after seeing smth else later..)

also, not to mention, ur so god damn giving??? is that a fucking word??? generous??? yeah??? humble??? u never fail to amaze me when ur acting upon smth, ur always taking a step ahead of others and never doing anything that makes u look petty whatsoever?? u take initiative and demonstrate what a good deed is, and sometimes i can't help but to feel little when u live up to doing something so generous and nice,,, i think abt how i should repay u and also how i can thank u except ur always going ???wtf u gay ass cockroach??? but really, i never stopped thinking this ever since i met u cus like... who tf buys a total stranger (who could literally be a fucking murderer in disguise) a hoodie, two albums and food at first encounter??? like i tell u now, if i can tell my child about my most shocked moments in life, that'd have to be one... i know u always make urself up to be not the kindest person, but to me ur literally top notch when it comes to consideration and kindness---like how ur always taking a step forward to take care of me in all situations, giving me a listening ear at all times, making sure i'm always safe, accompanying me to places, driving me back home, agreeing to any idea i have and being happy for anything i achieve---you're a bundle of positive energy anyone would love, it's just that the only problem is that no one truly deserves you unless they're fucking godly or smth... (inner thought: am i god?) see.. like ur so fucking nice to the point i occasionally think,,, are we rlly that similar or is she just fucking matching up w me to make it look like we're similar cus she's just that fucking nice??? LIKE GAWD.... i mean... i hope it's not that...

ok, jfc, i feel like i'm actually going to babble all day long so i need to pack my shit up and realise this day isn't going on for the rest of the year... to sum everything up tho, i really really really appreciate you, dalena!!! like so much, and i cherish u a whole lot more than anyone---i can't imagine how boring life would be without u now, and ur literally my ride to die atp... i apologise in advance for thinking of u so highly cus now i feel like u might be like GAWD... there's a fucking parasite on me... how do i cut ties... but yeah, now i need to fucking find a man that's as compatible to me like u are which is gonna be a whole fucking challenge, huh :)))) </3 but REALLY REALLY, i'm not the ***best*** friend nor am i as considerate as u, but i hope i' haven't been too fucking dumb and immature i'm bearable to have around on days u feel like u just want a friend to hang with, hehe... T_T <333 i love love love u, ma angel...

from... ur dad (aru)

0 notes

queen-of-the-weenies · 1 year

Text

"How tragic of the fate of the lover who was left behind..."

Gonna slap a big ol' trigger warning on this one.

TW: Repeated mentions of death and suicide. Nothing is written in explicit detail, but it is mentioned multiple times towards the end of the story.

So, for those who are curious but don't want to read the story, I'll provide a safe lil' blurb up here :)

Basically, I was inspired by the autosave mechanic in Skyrim (which I've been playing an unhealthy amount of lately). I began to wonder, what would it be like if a character actually experienced going back in time after dying. I ended up writing a pretty extensive story based on such a character; the condensed version of said story is what you'll see below. It's set in the world of Skyrim.

Also I was inspired by "Left Behind" by Reinaeiry. Idk, it's pretty good imo

Anyways enough rambling

Despite being born to a family of accomplished and well-respected mages, Mynarae had little interest in magic and mages. Her passion lied in alchemy, which she had practiced since she was old enough to read and stand at an alchemy table. She was content to craft potions for use by her family, or to sell to other upper-class families, until she learned of the White Phial. Fascinated by the alchemical artifact, she left home to travel to Skyrim in search of it. After learning that its location was unknown, she gave up quickly, but remained in Skyrim to collect as many of the unique alchemical ingredients as she could carry.

During her stay in Skyrim, she settled in Markarth, then began formulating an immortality elixir. Not for any specific reason, but to simply see if she could. The new ingredients provided the creative spark she needed to devise the formula. After years of work, she believed she had finally created the immortality elixir, but held on to it for the time being. There was only one dose, after all, and she did not want to waste it. Her journey and success was shared with a friend she’d made at the local inn, who expressed great interest in her creation.

Shortly after sharing her success, Mynarae was out to gather ingredients in the wilds, when she was accosted by a bandit group. Her “friend” was among them, having told the group about the elixir, and the bandits demanded to have it or they would kill her and take it. Refusing to give up her work, Mynarae fled from the group, drinking the elixir as she went. Enraged, the bandits attempted to kidnap her instead. Too proud to allow herself to be captured and trusting her own elixir to work properly, Mynarae threw herself off a cliff into the river to escape.

She died upon impact against the rocks in the river.

Mynarae found herself back at her rented room in Markarth, just before she shared her success with her friend. Though bewildered at first, she quickly realized that rather than becoming immortal, the elixir had sent her back a brief amount of time. Armed with knowledge of the future, she severed all ties in Markarth, then set off to return home. During the journey home, she joined a caravan, where she met a man named Sidduk, a fellow alchemist. The two bonded over their shared interests, sharing notes and recipes, and grew close enough to fall in love. She decided to move to a little farm with Sidduk, where they would grow their own ingredients…

Then, one day, Mynarae created an elixir that exploded, killing her and Sidduk in the process. She was transported back in time, and averted the disaster. Then Sidduk died from illness, and Mynarae killed herself to go back and cure him. He later died from inhaling toxic alchemical fumes. She killed herself to save him.

He was mauled by wild dogs while tending the farm. Then he was crushed when a support beam gave out and collapsed the roof. Was murdered by a thief while going to town for supplies. Chased by a sabrecat that wandered onto their property. Burned alive when he accidentally spilled flammable liquid onto the fireplace. Got sick again.

Mynarae grew increasingly desperate to save him from ever dying, while becoming desensitized to the act of suicide. She had to save him. HAD TO SAVE HIM!

Then, one morning, she awoke to find that he had left the farm, leaving only a letter. Sidduk had noticed her abrupt shift into a feverish state, and was going to fetch a healer. She chased after her love, only to find his lifeless body amid the wild grasses, torn apart by wolves. Distraught, Mynarae killed herself again…

And woke up in bed. Sidduk’s letter was on the bedside table. No matter how many times she went back, she woke up in the bed every time. No matter how fast she ran to catch up, he was already dead when she found him.

Sidduk was gone.

All her work to save him, only to drive him right into the jaws of death with her behavior, and now he was gone forever.

The grief never truly went away, but it eased slightly after a few months. She buried his body on the farm, then tended to the crops for a while. Sidduk would have been sad if the farm went to ruins, she told herself. He would have wanted her to carry on. She just had to carry on… Until one night months later, Mynarae realized that there would never be an escape from the hell she was now living. If the elixir simply sent her back in time when she died, then she would never know peace. She would never join Sidduk in the afterlife.

Something snapped in Mynarae at that moment.

The grief melted away, replaced by fury and a deep-seated resolve. How dare her own creation treat her this way! She created the elixir, so she would create another that would break the effect! No one would keep her away from Sidduk! Not even her own past actions!

Mynarae became obsessed with finding or formulating a cure. Gone were thoughts of taking care of herself. She would eat just enough to not starve, sleep just enough to keep her mind sharp, protect herself just long enough to gather as many alchemy ingredients as necessary. She couldn’t afford any setbacks. There was too much to do.

She had to find a way to kill herself for good.

#Anna's Story Emporium #short story #skyrim #tw suicide #tw death #dark writing

0 notes

angeloum · 2 years

Text

Social Media: Do You Need to Use It to Grow Your Business?

youtube

In the various FB forums, groups, and even my inbox, there's one thing I get more questions on than any other subject. I felt the same way. I believed Social media would hold the answer to increasing my revenues, generating more engagement and creating the strength of my brand.

Is social media even worth it?

If you believe Twitter is one of the most vital aspects of growing a company or you'd like not ever to repeat the phrase "tweet," then you're on the right track.

In this article, I'm going to talk about... My experiences and opinions on the use of social media for communication and business-building tool What can social media accomplish, but why isn't the "end all be all."

What are the steps to pick which platform(s) that be most beneficial for you and your customers

Ultimately, my aim here is to ensure that you're conscious and focusing on the right things to help grow your community and business faster than distracted by tasks that feel more like walking water...in the pit of mud... amid a hurricane.

The first question is, do you need for you to use social media?

The world began to change and evolve when I entered the blogging community around four years ago. At the time, Instagram had barely picked momentum, Snapchat was not well-liked, Periscope and Facebook Live weren't even around, and Pinterest was beginning to gain momentum.

There was much less social media on the internet, blog comments were the king of the hill, and Twitter was where the fun was. (Did anyone mention "party"? I'll be having a Ballast Point. Thank you! ).

What's the difference? The vast majority of social media websites only grew in popularity in the last few years. Additionally, video (especially the live stream) has only recently seen its grand debut.

This led to a lot of anxiety and "squirrel" feeling because of the many new ideas that appeared all at once. It was a bit as follows...!

Oh, and did I mention that Facebook groups are trendy now? It's true! I'm there! And Pinterest isn't only for recipes? Yes, I can also do that! And the live video is exploding? It's true that I'm a significant bedhead and am exhausted, but sure!

All of it is happening simultaneously. It made us begin to feel that we had to be everywhere simultaneously without contemplating if that was real.

It's tough to say "no" when everyone you admire and know is already on the next platform and has warned users to be aware that "if there's no early adoption you'll be left in the dust!

Maybe that is just me.

You then move towards the next channel again until you realize that you've created ten tracks each take time to complete; however, they're not delivering the expected results.

Do you need to be on every social media platform? Are you spending hours every week using social networks?

Heck, to the mother-effin'-no.

As social media has become more prevalent, the public has begun to desire authenticity in a more excellent and significant way. This is the reason why live video is growing SO well-known. It isn't easy to cover up an aesthetically-designed Instagram picture while living in camera.

Therefore, instead of being on every platform, make sure you're on just a couple of platforms to ensure that your customers truly begin to trust your brand and know that they'll receive high-quality content each time they see your account show up on their feed.

What this means for you is that you don't have to be all the time.

Choose your primary social media channels and work with them with a lot of focus. You may only have one particular platform you're involved in. It's much superior to being frightened and unprofessional as you build social media personalities that seem fabricated and automated instead of genuine.

1. Which areas are your customers hanging out in the most?

This is probably the easiest, but it's an important point worth mentioning. If you're working to create your business, you need to overcome the hurdle of looking to utilize websites familiar to you.

I've heard many users say they don't know what to do with Instagram Stories or Snapchat, even though they know that the users who use them are avid users of these platforms.

Instead of figuring out the best platforms to establish stronger relationships with their friends, They stick with those platforms they're familiar with and waste the opportunity to build relationships with their group.

It's all about changing. Whether Snapchat will be around by the end of next year, it's learning the techniques necessary to connect with potential clients and customers you're trying to win.

This is because when Periscope was first introduced, I frequently joined since my followers began to be on there. Since Periscope isn't as well-known, I instruct my live streams via Facebook Live instead.

The platform might change, but the techniques I acquired through Periscope were helpful when I used Facebook Live. This means you might be annoyed that the media you invest time creating could be old this year. However, the truth is that every platform teaches you the knowledge you require to succeed regardless of the other media that emerge soon. It's all dependent. It's all relative.

The bottom line is don't take a risk on an online platform because you like it. You're investing in creating a community that benefits your users, too.

2. Incorporate video.

Some people HATE videos. And I get it. It used to make me freak out as well. Today, video chats are one of my favourite methods of communicating. Fear can overcome you.

Video is the growth of digital content, and it's difficult to argue at the moment.

Nearly every social networking platform, including Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter/Periscope, and so on -- integrates video (and frequently live video) in their offerings.

If you're trying to determine which platform you should be using entirely, consider which one you could rock videos on in a manner that is comfortable for you.

Some suggestions:

Facebook Live

Instagram Stories

Uploading videos (or Facebook live clips) on your Instagram account

Live video streaming on Twitter

Snapchat

3. Which platform is most effective for promoting your brand?

If you're an artist or graphic design professional, Twitter may not be your primary source of income. However, Instagram or Snapchat could be a good fit because they're primarily visual.

If you're a motivational or inspirational speaker, It might be worth scheduling twice-weekly Facebook Live classes rather than uploading recycled quotes on your Instagram since you know they will be more meaningful to your followers. It's not just about what you like but also about which platform showcases the best aspects of your brand

Do I have to quit using my social networks on other websites?

Not necessarily. After you've found the top one or two methods of engagement the other, that doesn't mean that you have put everything in flames and then burned it all down.

You're still able to keep all of your accounts (who is aware of how things could change in the future, or the preferences of your followers could change! ). However, you don't have to be active everywhere once you've identified your leading Social Media platforms.

If you don't make a post on Twitter for one year, your company could still be solid and healthy. There's an opportunity that nobody will notice or even notice.

And, think about how much effort you could put into those channels that are significant to your target audience if you eliminate the unnecessary content robbing you of a few wasted hours each week—# no brainer.

Ultimately, it's about being mindful of what you do to improve your company. The majority of times, the feeling of overwhelm in business stems because you're trying to accomplish numerous things, many of which aren't even required to succeed.

what's the significance of social networks?

Since many people have asked me for my personal opinions on this subject (note that no one has asked me to give my thoughts on it), I thought I'd write a post about it.

Here's my opinion on what the purpose of social media could be:

Social media can help you expand your audience and increase sales of your products or services.

However, both of these are results of achieving the primary objective of social platforms.

To connect and engage your audience.

Instead of using social networks as a method to "convert", individuals consider it the opportunity to form bonds with people. The bond you issue is usually the thing that will turn them into existing customers or subscribers in the future because they trust you and like you.

In my opinion, you should utilize social media to create a community around your brand and make it more human rather than a method to turn someone into a buyer.

What are the ways you could do this?

Gary Vayner chuck just started the #5MinClub to foster community and engage. Gary Vayner chuck posts an Instagram post in which he offers his entrepreneurial view on anything. Everyone who posts their opinions on that subject in the comments within the first five minutes (using the hashtag #5minclub) is eligible to win fantastic cash prizes Gary offers.

The audience is being taught to connect to him...and as a consequence, they're engaging with one another (as they might want to react to others' remarks, whether they agree or not).

For a different idea, I also host a Facebook Live class on my Facebook Page each week to stay in touch with my friends and share some helpful information. It's an opportunity for me to interact in real-time and "in real life," instead of writing a blog article that doesn't convey my persona.

And Kayla Hollatz is the host of the weekly Twitter chat that brings her followers together each week to have a heartfelt business discussion. Other members can join their Facebook group to ask questions or share ideas. Some may post behind-the-scenes footage via Snapchat as well. Instagram Stories throughout the day.

However, those who use social media are typically not on every platform (when they are, you'll be able to bet on a team of folks running this show behind in the background).

Most people who excel on social media are only really skilled in one or two areas and don't worry about the rest. That's the main reason why I chose to write this blog. Ensure you can cut out the extra and focus on aspects that make you happy and actual outcomes for your business.

Anyone will inform you that "you want to increase the number of likes for your page on Facebook", but when you don't know how this will increase the number of people who are an active and profitable audience, Why are you doing it?

Simply put, Do not just aim to increase your following as if it's essential. Concentrate on creating high-quality content and engaging on just two platforms, and the crowd will be there.

It took me a while to realize that unless you take your social media strategy seriously, it's easy to get caught up in the trap of thinking that you have to be everywhere (which can dilute your image and reduce your possibilities of success).

That is why I am bringing you to my last point...

Social media isn't about email lists.

Social media is the perfect tool for displaying YOU, your style, and the amazing community you can create to promote your business However, it's not an email list. The list will likely not give you the same outcomes (revenue-wise) as an email list can.

Here's what I am referring to...

As I began my web design business, I was about social media. I tweeted. I Facebooked. I even staged gorgeous Instagram pictures because it was what most famous designers did.

It took me a LONG period every week to map everything out, plan my content, and then take my pictures. But I still had no inquiries despite the ad-hoc posting in my calligraphy (to be confirmed was kind of" the thing" a couple of years back).

My social media following was increasing. However, my bank account was not. Then, I began focusing on my mailing list and utilized social media to create a community rather than make people pay me.

It worked In the next few days, my design studio began to be booked months ahead of time with clients. And I was able to utilize social media to be a kid and create more bonds without the need to make it the most effective marketing tool.

First and foremost, increase the number of email subscribers you have. Also, focus on providing valuable content to your subscribers every week. Engaging your subscribers will soon create a community of passionate customers.

After that, move towards social media. But, as I said, there are only two platforms on which you can be involved and deliberate instead of being too scattered and apathetic with just one.

My primary method to interact and connect is through the live Facebook posts I host every month on my FB page and within my FB group. But, I'd love to expand the communities I build on Instagram because I know my friends are on there, and I love the creative possibilities it provides when I am willing to give up on the idea of perfection.

#social media #Youtube

0 notes

stellocchia · 3 years

Text

Since I really enjoyed yesterday's stream I decided to do one of my overly long analysis on it

So, here's my analysis of (DSMP LORE) Healthy Competition

Dialogues will be color-coded as usual, so here's what I used: Phil, Wilbur, Ranboo

As always I am incapable of brevity, so everything's under the cut

The stream starts with a conversation between Phil and Wilbur in which Wilbur admits that he hasn't been to visit Phil in a while, which makes Phil's later threat about throwing him out feel that much more ridiculous since Wilbur clearly doesn't really live with him either way...

"Alright, it's got one for Phil, one for Ranboo, and one for Techno. Is that all that live here? Just you three?" "Yep, just us three, just chilling"

The only reason why I'm singling this out is that it was right after the mention of Techno's birthday and Wilbur was pointing at the seats occupied by the 4 members of the Syndicate so it feels slightly weird that Niki wasn't mentioned at all. But also it's technically not a lie, she doesn't live there and she only comes around for the Syndicate meetings.

Another thing to add is that Wilbur did notice the chest Ranboo left for him and consciously decided to ignore it.

"I must admit I've come to you with a bit of a- a bit of a proposition. You're into propositions Phil? Are you a bit of a 'propositions' kinda guy?" "Oh, depends, depends. You- you've had some pretty... let- let's just say, uh- not- not a great track record on propositions that you've had in the past" "Alright... I mean, I'm trying to move past that"

I wonder what exactly Phil is referring to here. Because, like, Wilbur did bad things, don't get me wrong, but what's his track record with "propositions" in particular? Because he isn't talking about "Tommy, let's be the bad guys" here since he doesn't know about that. Is he talking about Wilbur founding L'Manburg? But then again, I don't think Wilbur interpreted it that way. I think that, from Wilbur's reaction, he clearly interpreted it as a jab at him exploding L'Manburg (which is the one thing he's trying to move past) which would be extremely hypocritical from Phil since he did the exact same thing but worse.

Also, I really do think that Wilbur is trying to move forward. He's lonely and he has the lowest possible opinion of himself so it doesn't feel weird that he'd want to move on. He isn't putting the work in it right now and he hasn't really changed, but he does seem to want to (though I think he may not know how).

"He [Quackity] didn't seem afraid of me, which is cool. Not many people- I mean you don't seem afraid of me. You aren't afraid of me, are you Phil?" (little look into Wilbur's mind and his fear of isolation once again. And this is fear of isolation, he's worried that other people are afraid of him and therefore are only waiting for him to step out of line so that all their fears would be confirmed)

"'Cause I'm not afraid of you [Phil]" (bold words for someone who spent who knows how long lying to his dad because of a crippling fear of disappointment...)

"Technoblade spent his entire time taking down the establishments, what he left is, as predicted, a power vacuum for a new establishment to come in" (in case it wasn't obvious, Wilbur is not the biggest fan of anarchy. And he actually got this one criticism spot on, indeed all taking down L'Manburg did was getting 4 new governmental-like structures to sprout in its place)

"Phil, I want to make a burger van" *Phil sighs and walks away* (I'm more sure now that Phil really meant "creating L'Manburg" as Wilbur's bad track record with propositions)

Wilbur repeating 4 times that he has no ulterior motive with the burger van managed to make me think the exact opposite. That said that ulterior motive may just be to create a safe little home for himself and Tommy for all we know honestly. Also, the whole thing with Phil trying to convince his grown-ass kid to go play with the neighbor kid and Wilbur throwing a tantrum in response was hilarious...

"If he's [Ranboo] shit you gotta come help me okay? If he's shit you've gotta come be burger boy with me, okay?" (he still is mistrustful to an extreme and pretty childish admittedly)

"Why is he [Phil] treating me like a kid?! Why is he treating me like a little baby?" (remembering how Wilbur treated Fundy I think it may be a family problem)

Another interesting thing to point out is that Wilbur was openly scared of the spider attacking him here, and fights it off, but he doesn't move away from the explosion later on and he didn't move away from the exploding creepers last stream. Other people already made this connection, but I do think it may be a sort of way to punish himself. Specifically, it's brought up later on that he thinks he got off easy for what he did, so he's using what he hurt others with (explosions) to hurt himself now as a sort of punishment for that. Which is another indication of just how much his stay in Limbo didn't help with his mental health.

"Am I being- is this [Ranboo having both cows and wheat] a setup?" (the paranoia never left)

"Ranboo I'm gonna go out on a limb here: do- do you wanna be friends?" "Su-sure yeah, I don't see why not" (I think that at this point it was still just Wilbur following along with what his dad told him to do and trying to find out more about Ranboo. That does seem to change later down the line)

"And then we decided that it [the 'cookie' outpost] was too much trouble so we kinda just left it" (So we have confirmation that the cookie outpost was abandoned)

"We're not gonna annoy Quackity" "That's good" "We can't annoy- we can't annoy him because we're simply put- we're simply put gonna be making...- I got the real estate! He's giving me the area and we're gonna be making a competing business"

Wilbur says this as if he wasn't perfectly aware that this would annoy the sh*t out of Quackity. As if the point of it wasn't exactly to annoy Quackity. Or well, annoying him isn't the end goal, it's just the means to an end. We don't know the actual end goal (though I think Wilbur still wants to either be let into Las Nevadas or actually instate a rivalry between them as he said, one of the two).

"We [he and Quackity] were a part of the same cabinet during New L'Manburg or whatever" "Cabinet?" "Yeah a cabinet is like-" "Was this- was this with Tubbo?" "Yeah yeah" (...) "So you were part of the old L'Manburg? I didn't know that actually, I thought you were a bit of an independent"

Once again: Wilbur is missing A LOT of knowledge. He wasn't aware that New L'Manburg had a cabinet and he wasn't aware that Ranboo was ever part of the country either. He has a lot of misconceptions about what happened during the time he was dead so it really shouldn't be a surprise to anyone that his views on a lot of things are as warped as they are. Wilbur is getting to his conclusions with an incomplete and sometimes wrong set of data.

"Do you dislike anyone Ranboo?" "Not too much I don't think. I mean there are other people I don't, like, agree with what they've done of course, but I think that everyone is just a product of what they've gone through and everything so if you understand that then you understand the person!"

There is nothing inherently wrong with Ranboo's reasoning here. It's true that most people are a result of their environment and, once you understand what they've been through you can understand them better as a person. It's also fine that he personally doesn't want to hold grudges. But that way of thinking isn't applicable to those who have been hurt by others, sure they can reach an understanding, but an understanding of a person doesn't justify shit and doesn't change shit unless that person works towards repairing old broken relationships. It just all sounds like a nice way of thinking about things in theory, but in practice, it just takes away responsibility from those who have wronged others to fix things and moves it to those who have been wronged. (Ranboo isn't advocating for everyone to think that way though, but I know the fandom will).

Either way, they arrive in Las Nevadas and Wilbur talks about how their place doesn't benefit the consumer and puts down 3 signs.

"I've been trying to think of a name for it [his and Tommy's area], I'm thinking about 'Paradise'"

There are two possible reasons for the name that I can think of:

1) It's in reference to Las Nevadas itself and how Las Nevadas is based on Las Vegas, the famous city of sin

2) It could be a reference to Tommy insistently calling Las Nevadas Paradise in the last stream and Wilbur trying to convince him that their place is the true Paradise

Wilbur does decide to make the Burger Van right at the border which really feels like a very obvious provocation. The other thing is that he makes it clear that he wants the van to be red and white which could be a random choice, but really feels like a reference to Tommy (since they are famously his colors) or an imitation of their opposition. Or both considering how much Tommy liked the restaurant of the opposition and the fact that Wilbur is still trying to convince him to stay.

"I'm not very fond of blue" (at this point it's obvious that Wilbur has quite a bit of pent-up animosity against Ghostbur. I wonder if it is because it still feels like people liked the ghost more than him...)

"Like, the Cookie Shop, I don't even know if it was a cookie shop, to begin with, because it was a little... fortified if I'm entirely honest, I realize that now" "Really?" "Yeah did you not see- oh wait- that giant stone structure?" (Ranboo really did fail to realize that the cookie shop was actually a military outpost, huh?)

"See, I like Tubbo. He's strong-headed, he doesn't let people push him around, you know?" (this is both an interesting change in what he thinks of Tubbo if he actually thinks that and further confirmation that Wilbur isn't a fan of people he considers to be 'followers')

"Why do you claim that you're so 'peaceful' and 'neutral' and yet somehow appear in almost every conflict this server's had since I died?" (since I saw people claiming this is manipulation already, just know that it isn't. He's just confused because, admittedly, Ranboo is a confusing guy and Wilbur doesn't really know him at all)

"Ranboo, why did you come to help me?" (...) "And then also I just think, you know... you can, you know- I think- I think you're an alright person, you know? So I wanna- I did kinda wanna get off on a better foot with you then what happened-" "Why?" "Just because I don't really like having the thought that people don't really like me" "Nonononono not the bit about the right foot, the 'why don't you think I'm a bad person'" "Well I mean, I think that you did bad things, but like, I think that you also went through things that made you that way and then I also think that you've changed now (...) but I think that now you've- apparently you've been away long enough that I think that if anyone goes away for that long eventually they'll have a thought about their morality and everything and maybe become a better person because of it"

I know this quote was absurdly long, but it is one of the most interesting conversations of the whole stream and it is really important and it tells us quite a bit as well. For one thing Wilbur was left quite emotional from someone simply admitting that he's an "alright person" and that they think he's capable of changing and this does bring him to open up to Ranboo right after. What Ranboo says to be exact is that anyone would have changed after going through what Wilbur went through and that change could be positive and while I completely disagree with it, it's clearly something that Wilbur needed to hear.

Now as to why I disagree with the notion that 13 years of semi-complete isolation could change anyone for the better should be rather obvious. But if it isn't, well, that's torture to put it simply. Psychological torture. Just like abuse it's one of those things that only cause trauma and a worsening mental health state and we see this with Wilbur because he didn't change, he only became more self-deprecating. Hurting someone doesn't make them become a better person all of a sudden, that's really not how it works. Hurting someone makes them become more traumatized.

"I think I scare people" ( as I said, immediately opening up about his insecurities)

"I think that a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them" (for a bit here Wilbur talks about how he feels like everyone else is just waiting for him to step a foot out of line, which does really show that he's still interpreting all his interactions with people through the lens of his paranoia and self-deprecation, because no one is really interacting with him with that objective in mind)

"Dream's had his comeuppance and I've not" (this seems to be the crux of Wilbur's insecurity. This idea that he got off scot-free for his crimes, the idea that the only difference between him and Dream is the punishment that's been bestowed upon them which, of course, is wrong, but he doesn't know this, because he doesn't actually know why Dream's in prison)

"I've been investing into the wrong areas Ranboo, I've been investing into the wrong people" (This is either a reference to Tommy, to Phil, to Quackity, or to all of them)

"We're kindred man, we get each other" (the reason why he thinks that is because he seems to think that Ranboo has a similar type of paranoia to what Wilbur experience himself and he's not entirely wrong. Ranboo is deathly afraid of conflict and of being disliked so much so that he never stands up for anything in fear of angering others)

Little definition of "neuroticism" for you all since Wilbur kept mentioning it: neuroticism, one of the Big 5 personality traits, is typically defined as a tendency toward anxiety, depression, self-doubt, and other negative feelings.

I'd say it's quite fitting for both characters...

"I feel like life dealt us the same cards and the difference is that you built your trust by showing people your cards whilst I- I keep them close to my chest and I feel like that may be the big difference" (I felt like this was interesting. Especially knowing how much Ranboo actually doesn't share and how much he actually also keeps close to his chest)

They talk about tubbo in general for a bit and about what's been going on the server in general. Ranboo also that he's part of both Snowchester and the arctic commune (mostly the latter though).

"This has been chill, this has been good, I'm excited to show Tommy. What's your opinion on Tommy?" "Oh, he's- he's great. Tommy's awesome" "I agree I agree" "Definitely gone through a lot but I think that it's made him a good person" "Well you seem to think that everyone going through something at least gives them some merit you said" "I mean, yeah. I mean if- if no one- the only really bad people are the ones who are just evil because- just because and they don't have any reason why"

Included the whole thing here because if I stopped at Ranboo saying that Tommy going through trauma is what made him a good person it would have sounded really bad. As things are I think that that was just poor wording on his part and that this mostly goes back to the mentality he expressed before about how people sometimes do bad things because of the environment they're in pushing them and this idea he seems to have that actual hardships (like 13 years in Limbo or whatever he knows about what Tommy has been through) can encourage people to be better which is... sort of naive honestly. Again, trauma isn't a catalyst for the betterment of a person, and any improvement Tommy has made came from his self-reflection, not what he's been through.

After they're done with the van Wilbur brings Ranboo to their competing establishment and asks him to smash the windows, which Ranboo does with no hesitation whatsoever. After that Wilbur proceeds to place down one single block of TNT in a corner and Ranboo starts being a little more hesitant.

"You trust me right?" (I feel like that was a trick question considering how their common paranoia is the thing that Wilbur praised in Ranboo before)

Wilbur hands Ranboo the flint and steel to detonate the piece of TNT which Ranboo does, albeit with some hesitation.

"You passed the test, good job man, you go back to the van (...) Ranboo- Ranboo... I'm proud of you man. You've taken a side, you've proven that you can choose a side"

Quite a few people have already pointed out how similar this scene was to the time Wilbur tested Tommy in season 1 to decide if he was fit to be his right-hand man. In both situations, Wilbur gave someone a chance to cause some destruction against someone on the opposite side. Tommy passed the test by refusing to do so and showing that he was willing to uphold his morals and what he believed in. Ranboo passed the test by doing the exact opposite, by showing that, as much as he talks about how he chooses people and not sides, he's not willing to prove that even when all he would need to do to do so is doing nothing.

And it's an interesting scene to analyze as a parallel to that, but it's also interesting to note that Wilbur knows about Ranboo and Tommy griefing George together. He knows that Tommy was the only one to face any consequences for it (not that exile was actually the consequence for the griefing, but this is from Wilbur's point of view). Now putting this in the context of Wilbur seeing himself in Ranboo and thinking that he himself got off scot-free explains this next part perfectly in my opinion.

It explains why he made sure to leave this sign:

To me at least. This is only a theory honestly, we don't have an actual full explanation. But I do think that Wilbur may feel like the both of them never got the comeuppance they deserved, which is why he did something that's sure to get a reaction from one of the most powerful people on the server. Though considering that he also left 2 diamonds as retribution + a chest with all the materials he picked up it could have also been Wilbur's idea of a bonding moment and he could actually really be proud of Ranboo.

#long post #dream smp #wilbur soot #philza #ranboo #c!wilbur #c!ranboo #dream smp analysis #character analysis #stream analysis #tw self-harm #tw self-deprecation #tw torture mention #tw abuse mention #I'm sure there are plenty of things I missed #but this was all for now

237 notes · View notes

itsthestutterforme · 3 years

Text

Escort 1/2 (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: You're an escort that Jang Hanseok has had his eyes on for a while. He finally invites you to his house for the night.

"What's his name again?" You ask your madame, and she hands you a file in response. You open the file to see a familiar looking man. He was the CEO of Babel, Jang Hanseok.

And for some odd reason, he chose you to be his escort for the night. There were plenty women prettier and more experienced but he chose you. "He paid for the entire night," your madame explains. "But what about my regulars?" "They were pushed until tomorrow,"

"How did they take that?" "They're big boys, they can handle it," she says, making you chuckle. "Make sure to have fun, I've heard he's like a tiger in bed." "What does that mean?" "You'll see,"

You smooth your hands over your silk black dress after you ring the door bell, careful not to cross your arms to seem closed off. Your heart was starting to race as you heard footsteps acend towards the door. Pull yourself together, Y/N. He's not your first client.

The door opens to reveal the chiseled face of Jang Hanseok. He's rubbing his hair dry with a towel and standing before you shirtless and wearing gray sweatpants. He definitely hits the iron because every peck and crevice of his chest is solid and defined.

He knows exactly what he's doing. He throws the towel over his shoulder and reaches out to touch your face.

He draws his thumb over your cheek. "Soft," he says to himself before turning away and walking back into his loft. You follow him in and close the door behind you. His loft is like many of your clients, vast and spaceous with minimal decor and life.

Your eyes fall to a small version of the Babel Tower with it's light flashing. "You like it?" "Is it really going to be a hundred floors?" "What's wrong with that?" "Well if you don't see spendung have your time in the elevator as a problem, then no." You say, making him chuckle softly.

"There it is," he says. "There what is?" He grabs your chin and pulling you towards him. "Your smart mouth," he whispers against your lips. "You know, when I first saw you, you put a man in his place because he thought it was okay to touch a woman as she walked by." He adds.

He leans in so close you would practice taste him. "And that was the hottest thing I've ever seen." He sizes you up before pulling away from you. You surpress the whine from the loss of contact.

He sits down on his couch and man spreads as he turns on the TV. Leaving you hot and bothered, you toss you purse on the counter and sat across from him. He just sits there with one hand on his lap and the other clicking through the channels.

"So are we just going to watch TV all night?" He doesn't respond, but glances over at you. You huff with annoyance. Watch him be the type that wants me to beg. Well he has the wrong woman tonight because you don't beg.

He seems patient enough, let's see how far he'll let you go. You stand from you spot on the couch and slowly approach him but he doesn't move a muscle or acknowledge your existence.

You sit in his lap and roll your hips to get comfortable. He clears his throat but you could tell that he was trying to suppress a moan. You take his chin into your hand and sharply turn his face to look at you.

He raises an eyebrow at you which probably means that I was traveling on thin ice. You have his attention alright, the question is what do you plan to do with it? You pull away from his chin and grab his wrists to pin against the back cushions of the couch.

You press your lips to his and gasp when he nips at your bottom lip harshly. He yanks himself out of your grip and pushes your back into the sofa. "You are such a brat, you know that?" He scolds as he wraps his fingers around your throat and uses his other hand to cup your pussy.

"How else was I suppose to get your attention?" You ask, whimpering as he rolls your clit between his index finger and his thumb. "By being a good girl. Now I'm going to have to punish you," he says, grabbing his tie from the table.

He ties your wrists together and places them above your head. He slowly trails his hands from your arms to your chest and cups your breasts before burying his face in them. Humming with satisfaction, he licks up the valley of your breasts, making your entire pussy throb against his hand.

"Do you like that sweetheart?" You moan in response and he bunches your dress at your waist before pull it over your head and out of the way. He unclips your bra and tears it in two since he couldn't take it off regularly with your hands tied.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth and rubs the other with the pad of his thumb all with sliding his free hand into your panties. He slides two fingers into your slick and curls them hard and slow. You arch your back off of the couch and tried to roll your hips and match the rhythm of his fingers

He stops his movements and you fall back on the couch so he could resume his movements. "Damn it, I'm sorry." You whine but he ignores you and continues to pump his fingers at the painfully slow pace. Your orgasm was slowly acending your belly, but you had to lay back and ignore your want for friction because otherwise, he would stop.

You were on the verge of tears once your first orgamn finally came. "I'm s.. I'm sorry, Hanseok. Please don't," you trail off when he pulls away from your nipple with a satisfying pop. He kisses down your stomach and pulls your underwear down as your legs and leaves kisses on the freshly exposed skin.

He tosses your underwear across the room and holds your swole thighs in his hands. He rolls onto his back and brings your off of the couch all in one motions. You land by straddling his chest and he lifts you up slightly so he could slide himself right underneath your bare pussy.

He draws figure eights with his tongue and you body folds forwards. You rest your joined hands on the arm cushion of the couch. He spreads your legs even further so you are literally sitting on his face. When you try to get up, he digs his nails into your hips, making you cry out.

He flicks his tongue side to side across your clit before dipping inside and dragging it across the top wall. Your stomach grows sore from tensing it for so long. He repeats his motions and your knot grows in your stomach. You find yourself rolling your hips against his mouth and gasps when his tongue finds another gspot deep inside you.

Sinks a finger in and curls that spot over and over again until you came apart in his mouth. Humming in satisfaction, he kept the same pace until you were at the brink of your next orgasm.

Loud knocks on the door makes you yell out in surprise. "Jang Hanseok, this is the police." A man booms from the other side of the door. You climb off of him and stand on wobbly legs.

"What's happening?" You ask with your heart racing. "Please tell me you're not a murderer or something," "Relax, I'll be back by morning. Don't go anywhere." He says, wiping his face with a paper towel. "Wh-" "Don't go anywhere," he repeats and you collapse back on the couch.

He opens the door and converses with the police officers. You covered yourself from the prying eyes of the police officers. He runs upstairs to grab a shirt and shoes before leaving with the police. There you are, sitting on the couch, naked with your wrists tied together, feeling completely humiliated.

Using your teeth, you loosen the tie from your wrists and stare down at your torn up clothes. Your legs trembled as you stand once again from the couch and walk up the stairs to his room. You open his drawers and took out a black shirt and grey sweatpants.

You walk back downstairs and grab your purse before strapping on your heels and walking out the door. If he knows what's good for him, he'll stay the hell away for you.

"Absolutely not," "Why would you let one bad experience steer you away. He's a platinum client." "I could care less, he humiliated me." "A boo hoo, a man made me feel like shit so I'm not going to see him again. Please tell me you're not one of those hate all men snobs." Your madame snaps.

Your mouth hangs open with disbelief as heat creeps up the back of your neck. Clenching your jaw, you stand from the chair and anger explodes in your chest. You grab the coffee from her desk and toss the liquid in her face.

She shrieks as she wipes the coffee from her eyes. "In case you're having trouble putting two and two together. I quit, you arrogant, incompetent, man-pleasing pig." You spit. Reaching into your purse, you grab $100k as a termination fee the madame mentioned at the start of your contract and slam it on her desk.

You advance to the door with a wide grin tugging at your lips. For once you finally felt free. Walking to your car, your blood runs cold in your veins when you see Jang Hanseok leaning on your driver's side door.

He could be a criminal. What if you were a witness to something and he needed to get rid of you? You think to yourself. "Now I thought I told you to stay in the loft," "The last I checked, I have a mind and free will of my own." You snap.

"You're angry at me, why?" "If you really have to ask that question, I'm not going to bother explaining it to you. Please move out the way." "Not until we talk," "You're treading on thin ice, Hanseok." He kicks off from where he was leaning and advanced towards you with his hands stuff in his pockets.

"Say it again," "Say what?" "My name. I like how you say it." He tried to reach out and touch your cheek but you slap his hand away. "Wow, I really pissed you off, didn't I?"

"You left me naked and humiliated for those losers to look at. What make you think that's okay? Sex workers are humans too, Hanseok."

"Of course I know that. I just didn't.. I thought that they were proud of their bodies and wanted to show them off. I w-" "Not all of us are the same. Some have more dignity and self respect than to be treated like garbage." You snap. "I didn't know, okay. You.. you were my first one."

You spend a few moments looking at him. You're having a difficult time figuring out if he was geniune or not. "I quit, so if you're still experimenting. You're going to have to find another woman." You state, trying to step around him but he stands in your way again.

"Hanseok," you warn. "I don't want another woman. I want you." He leaned in to touch you again and this time you let him. He lifts your chin up gently with the crook of his finger. His touch the complete opposite of a couple days ago.

"Well that's too bad. If you look hard enough, you'll find a girl that'll do exact what you say. That doesn't have a... what was the word you used? A smart mouth." "I'll buy you anything you want." "Really, bribing? You can't buy your way out of this one, Hanseok."

"Just spend the day with me. The entire day, and I'll prove it to you." He cups your cheeks and maintains eye contact with you. "Prove what?" "That I'm worth it,"

Jang Hanseok examines the map of the mall with a perplexed look on his face. You're watching him with a similar expression. He's been.. different since the time you first met. He's more relaxed and serene.

You first went to a hot pot and competed to see who could the spiciest food. You won, naturally, but the entire time he would crack jokes and compliment you.

He really did make you feel special, but of course there was a small voice tucked in the back of your head saying that he could have bad intentions.

So you play along and listen to you gut on this one. "I found it!" He says excitedly. "Found what?" "Jump on my back," he says before crouching down in front of you. "You sure you want the carry me the whole time?"

"If my face can handle you, what makes you think my back can't?" He states and blush creeps onto you cheeks. Rubbing the back of you neck, you bite your lips nervously. "Come on, princess." He encourages and you finally climb onto his back.

You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. "Why did you have to call me out like that? Someone could have heard you," you ask embarrassingly. "What? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you taste amazing by the way."

"Hanseok!" You scold, slapping his shoulder roughly. "Ouch, you have a mean swing." "There's plenty more where that came from."

After you left the mall, you had bags fulls of stuffed plushies, sweatshirts, sweatpants, crop tops and shoes. You told that you didn't need any of those things and he asked how many comfortable clothes you had.

When you didn't answer fast enough, he started putting every other thing in the cart. You were in the process of stuffing the bags into the trunk when he holds you from behind and pulls your back against his chest. You yell out in surprise before smacking his hand but he doesn't falter.

He buries his face into your neck and your eyes naturally close in response to his warmth. You lost count how long it's been since you've been held by someone. You unconsciously trail your fingers along the back of his neck and he sighs deeply.

"Tell me that this doesn't feel good. You can't, can you?" He mumbles into your neck. He loosens his arms around you and turns you around to kiss your forehead. What is he trying to prove? Holding the back your neck, he rests his forehead against yours.

"Let's start over,"

#kdrama fanfic #vincenzo #kdramas #smut #vincenzo fic #ok taecyeon

322 notes · View notes

nctzanne · 3 years

Text

Your Last Name

♡ doctor!mark x fem!Reader.♡ smut, fluff if you use glasses

WARNINGS!: use of alcohol and drugs, explicit content, not sex but mentions of it.

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: I just want you to give it a try and read it AAAH

𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡?: no, an idea i've had since i started stanning NCT

𝐴𝑛𝑛𝑒'𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡𝑠 & 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠: As i said above, this is an idea I've had for sOOOOOO many months, so I really wanted it to make it happen. It was on my drafts for a long time. Thank you so so much if you take the time to read this.

You noticed when your mind woke up suddenly, but without opening your eyes, slowly bringing you back to reality. You tasted your own mouth dry as a bone, with a metalic flavor on it, typical scenario when we talk about hangovers. The headache that invaded you so suddenly made you grab your forehead, almost if you brain was going to explode right there. The smell of fermentation on the room -or wherever you were- made you nauseous, so you stayed still to avoid vomiting everything you consumed the night before. A light breathing woke you up from your trance and inner speech, you could even feel the warmth of it on your shoulder. That's when you realize you were not alone, totally opposite of that, you were cornered by arms twice your size, avoiding you to move on the super duper comfortable position you were in. You still didn't want to open your eyes to notice who the lucky guy was, but you could smell the hints of tequila on his breath. When that hit your nose, you turned around abruptly by instinct, trying to avoid the smell. You opened my eyes a little, just to be able to locate yourself in space-time.

A room hotel, there's where you were. White walls reflected the light that came from outside of the giant windows, making you cover your eyes with the hand that wasn't under the grip of this unknown guy. Once your eyes get used to the light, you remembered that you were at Bora-Bora for vacations with your best friend. You can hear the eagles screaming way too loud for your irritable state, but just noticing where you were made you feel more calmed. "At least I'm here and they didn't kidnap me" You thought, finally grabbing the courage to turn around and see who exactly was the guy that had a night of passion with you.

"Sure, shit"

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-Wait, repeat it to me, who did you meet? -You asked incredulously, looking at how your friend Rosé was overflowing with emotion and nervousness.

-Do you know this famous band?- She told you a name that you couldn't identify, you automatically shake your head-Anyways, while I was waiting for you on the beach I met with Jaehyun, the bass player, we talked a little and he invited us for a few drinks with his friends!- She talked so fast that you had a hard time processing all the information that was given to you.

-And that's it, a random guy talks to you and you say yes?. He could be a serial killer-

-Ah c'moooon, he's a superstar, it will be funn!!!-

So, a not so official date with guys from a band. Sure, excellent idea.

-Okay, are they handsome at least?- You asked with disinterest

-You can't imagine, y/n, so prepare yourself as well as possible, they will fall for you- she approached the small bridge that united your cabins in the middle of the sea, while she blowed you a flirtatious kiss.

You just laughed and walked towards the windows, admiring the sea. You were literally in paradise, your bedrooms floated above the ocean, the white sand was not so far from where you were staying in, and the horizon was clearer than ever. How lucky you were to have a friend who helped you get over your breakups with a very casual trip to Bora Bora at the Four Seasons hotel. Loneliness invaded you for a second and you decided to get ready for the long-awaited meeting that you would have with her friends.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

A white beach dress with pink heels and your tan is enough, with the right makeup obviously. It was already 7 pm and your nervous friend looked at her cell phone while texting with someone

-Is it him?- You ask, trying to peek behind her shoulder to see if you could figure out what they're talking about.

-Yes, he is telling me he's here at the bar but he doesn't see us-

-Of course, we are sitting, let me raise my hand- and so you did it.

-Here!!!!- Your friend screams in excitement when she sees 3 tall figures approaching to you. They seemed to walk on a slow pace, almost like the came out of a movie. And yes, your heart almost stopped for a good 10 seconds. Three guys, my gosh, models? What were they again?. God definitely had preferences for some human beings.

The fact that they aere so handsome and well… structured made you blush. Jaehyun, Johnny and ...

-Mark, nice to meet you- the youngest of the 3 of them greeted me, with a dazzling smile that makes his dimples appear. You bit your lip and studied his entire face so that you would never forget him again. -y/n, nice to meet you too-

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Nothing more and nothing less than Mark Lee himself. His makeup was completely smeared, traces of mascara under his closed eyes. His forehead and nose were reflecting the daylight a bit. It was a hot morning (or evening), and having you next to his body was obviously going to make him sweat. His open, broken lips gave off that smell of alcohol that made you sick. But despite of everything, your sight softened after a couple of seconds. He was sleeping so peacefully, and he was clinging to you like his life depended on it, so you couldn't help but smile.

-Mark... wake up- you whispered softly while you tried to get up.

-Hmmmh, what time is it?- his morning voice made my stomach tingle a bit, your sight never leaving his figure while he starts waking up.

He squinted while he sit up in bed slowly, ruffling his own hair. It was obvious that he was in the same blank state you were a few minutes ago, and you could tell by how he confusingly looked around at the room, until his eyes reached at you. His face expression softened, giving you a shy smile.

-Do you need some clothes?- he asked, blushing when he studied your naked torso with lazy eyes. You realized that you both were entirely naked, and you rushed to cover your breasts with your arms, just to earn a pure laugh from him, that made your head resonate in pain.

-We fucked, y/n, no need to hide- Mark put all his weight on his left elbow, getting closer to you while tilting his face flirtatiously. That made you cheeks go red as ever.

-Yes, but I don't remember anything so your point is automatically invalid- His body hovered yours so fast that you couldn't even process what was happening, until he pecked your lips.

-I remember everything, so I will refresh your memory-

You burst out laughing while he deposited soft pecks all over your face. The situation was so sweet, but it didn't make you feel uncomfortable at all. He interrumpted his love actions and looked at you hungrily.

-Mark, I barely can keep myself awake, i feel like I'm going to puke...-You warned him, reading his intentions.

-Okay okay- he looked down defeated- At least, can we cuddle a bit more? I promise I can make the hangover feel better- He tangled his legs and arms to your body, resting his face on your collarbones.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

Everything on that evening was talking about the mortality of a crab. Basics like where you were from, what do you do for a living and relationship status open the conversation.

Your attention was drawn to Mark when he started to introduce himself. As a Medicine student, he decided with his 2 best friends that were part of a band to go on a trip to relax due to the busy schedules that consumes their time. The three live together on a small apartment in Korea, where the rent is expensive so they can make it more affordable.

Bora-bora was the destination of their choice. It seems that the band called NCT 127 draw lot of attention from crazy fans who followed them EVERYWHERE, so an expensive place like so would be easier to have a time for them on their own.

Mark spoke always adding "like" between his words, he liked to lay back when he was sipping on his piña colada, but got closer to the table when you talked about your experience as a journalist.

He tried so hard to show interest on a topic he had no idea about, that his questions were kinda clueless, but it was obvious that it was his way to not cut the attraction and chat between you and him. It was a sexual tension you could feel by kilometers, every gaze you had was followed by a shy smile, and you felt tingles on your body everytime you had a bit of interaction.

-Do you guys do shots?- Rosé interrumpted the conversation, scanning the boys reaction.

-I mean, that's why we are here- Johnny combed his hair backwards, already feeling heated by the 2 gin tonics he drank in 15 minutes. I couldn't deny, him on a tight black shirt looked hot as fuck, I could notice how Rosé was drooling for him- Excuse me, maa'am- he raised his hand, calling the waitress- 3 rounds of shots please!-

-Man, we had 2 yesterday and you almost puked on the sea, go easyyyy- you could notice the tipsy state from Jaehyun as well. His eyes were almost closed on a thin line and his dorky smile betrayed him. Mark laughed out loud, first time in the night you heard him like that, with his cheeks tinted red. He took a big sip of his piña colada, looking at you directly at the eyes. Actually, you didnt noticed till that moment, but your legs started to feel a bit numb. Quite usual for you when the alcohol gets up on your head.

-I'm in!- you answer to Johnny's idea. Once the blue shots arrive, you quickly grab one.

-Cheers for this night to be special- he screams with a deep voice, and the other 2 guys howl as response while you burst out laughing.

When you decided that the amount of alcohol on your body was enough, you took a chance to go to the beach to sing and dance to the DJ placed randomly in there.

You felt bliss, the EDM music was filling your senses, but you tried to keep your eyes full opened so you could remember the beautiful but blurry view of the sunset.

Together with your new group of friends were a mess. Jumping, screaming, raising your hands like you could touch the sky, everything seemed possible at that moment. Even dancing and getting laid with Mark.

The music had nothing to do with your plan, but you got dangerously close to him, resting your arms on his shoulders. You could see that he chuckled, tilting his head back so he could see you fully. Both of you were drunk as hell, you thought you were killing it with the flirting skills, but probably you just looked like two fools trying not to fall for the obvious drunken state you were.

-Do you wanna kiss me?- you screamed while "Jenny" sounded on the speakers. What kind of question is that?

-Sure I do- his canadian accent made you bite your lip while smiling- Can I?- his voice tried to mimic yours, but you didnt answered, it wasnt necessary.

Your lips collided as you got close at the same time, and Mark wasted no time to open his mouth and let his tongue in your wet cavity. You moaned so loud, because you knew no one could hear it but him. A fierce fight between both of your tongues started, every graze of them would make yourself wetter and wetter. He squeezed your waist and tried to keep you closer to him if it was possible, in his drunk mind he was scared you could run away from him.

Nothing about the context was romantic at all. You both physically liked eachother and just wanted to make out. No love at first sight, no kiss with fireworks behind, just pure desire.

Adrenaline rushed your body when his hands cupped your ass, that was only covered by the thin dress you decided to wear. Nobody near you could care less about what you two were doing it, but for you, everyone was looking at the show you and Mark were offering, and that obviously turned you on.

You bit Mark's lower lip, sucked on it, while opening your eyes to look directly at him. Eyes closed, he was enjoying how you toyed his lips. The hard grip on your skin, and a bulge poking your stomach made you feel powerful, you were loving the effect you caused on him.

Suddenly, an arm made you break your kiss with Mark. You lose your balance so you hug the guy that was pulling you backwards. Johnny.

-Hey, pornstars, we have some nice shit here- he pointed his hand with his eyes. You could see a tiny bag with a white dust inside. You come to your senses and look around at the crowd to try find Rosé, but it was obvious she already was under the influence. She was on Jaehyun's shoulders, enjoying the music. You sigh, chuckling at the sight of her losing her mind.

-Its my first time though- you commented while you look at Johnny spreading the dust on top of his phone screen with one hand using a credit card. You could notice he was an expert at it, you peek to see Mark right by your side looking at the manouvers as hypnotized as you. Probably it was his first time too.

You both snorted the little substance, and it sucked at first. It was so uncomfortable, but it took minutes for you to get used to that weird sensation on your nose.

You didnt even noticed when everything started to amplify. You could feel the summer breeze making its way around you, the taste of Mark's saliva still on your tongue was strong, the colorful tins of the sky while it was dusking looked so enhanced.

A hand grabbed yours, taking you out of your trance, and almost felt like an orgasm. So warm and so soft, made you wanna scream. You turned to see a fucked out Mark, studying your face with dilated pupils, he was almost as horny as you by only grabbing hands.

He caressed yours with his thumb, and it felt like he was fucking you, your body shivered at it. Mark was enjoying it too, so he brought your fingers closer to his mouth and inserted the index one inside, and started to suck on it. You moaned and felt how your pussy clenched at nothing, the saliva coating your finger felt like caramel, if you could explain the feeling.

-Mark if you keep doing that i'm gonna cum- you told him with a warning tone, he was so inmersed on sucking your finger that he jumped when you talked. He was aroused by the situation too.

He smiled with your finger still inside of his mouth, took it out, holded you by your wrist and started to run towards...

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-And we ended up here- Mark sumed up the night while you were laying on his chest, caressing it with the tip on your fingers. His, on the other hand, were playing with the locks of your hair.

-Yeah, i remember now, such a night- and then you snapped- Wait... where the fuck is...-

-Yeah, she was having a threesome with the boys. Dont worry, she was having a good time-Mark answered with a playful tone. Of course, that sounds like a very Rosé thing to do. You let out a breathy laugh.

-We could have joined...- you suggested, looking up at him. He took a few seconds to answer, while his eyes moved from one corner to the other of the ceiling, like he was evaluating that scenario.

-Yeah, and sharing? No thanks- he bit his lip and he looked at you with a greedy smile- I felt so lucky to have you screaming my name over and over-

You hit his shoulder with your fist playfully, and he took that as an answer to keep silent and just enjoy the company of the other.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

2 days went by, you get used to hang out with the boys. All kinds of crazy stuff you could imagine, you were doing it with them, and it felt like heaven. Mark couldnt keep his hands to himself and everytime he had the opportunity, he would make you cum on his fingers or mouth. And the same goes for you, too. Thanks to him, you noticed how good you are at giving blowjobs inside public restrooms.

But nothing lasts forever, sadly, and the last day of your summer vacation arrived. Rosé and you were ready to go back to Seoul, while they would be staying a little bit longer. It hurted, you got used to Mark's attention, and either him or you wanted to ask for eachothers contact. Not because of lack of interest, but because both of you thought that the other saw it as an adventure. You didn't even knew his last name.

His lips devours yours before you could get in the car that was waiting for you on the street -I wont forget you, thanks for this amazing 3 days- he smiled, a tint of sadness on his eyes. You caressed his cheek, pecking his nose, trying to hurry as much as you coulf so you wouldnt start to feel emotional.

-Y/l/n-

He looked at you clueless -What?-

-My last name is y/l/n- you smiled and without waiting for an answer, you close the door of the car.

╚═══════ ≪ °❈° ≫ ═══════╝

-Hey, hey, it's okay- typical of Rosé being so overdramatic. Sure, your finger almost got cut in half while you were trying to cook some carbonara, but it wasnt a big deal, something a few stitches couldn't fix. The only thing that kept your finger from gushing blood out was a piece of toilet paper.

-Please! My friend needs a doctor!!!!- She screamed at the top of her lungs inside the hospital.

-What happened?- a nurse hurried, worried eyes scanning you both.

-She is losing her finger!!!!- Rosé felt she was going to faint.

-Jesus, Rosé, calm down-

The nurse takes a quick look at your finger- Yeah it doesn't look that good, please follow me. You are lucky we don't have that many patients on New Years Eve-

You are guided to a tiny room full of medical stuff, probably where you are going to get your finger sticked together. It hurted as fuck, but you were trying to keep focused on something other than the pain. You looked at the desk with the computer on, and on a hidden corner you noticed a picture of 3 friends, on a place that seemed too familiar to you. Actually, the friends also seemed like an old ones you had... maybe in university? You can't quite remember.

The door opened up while you were trying to dig into your memories , and you looked at the door startled.

-So, Mrs y/n...- that voice, that motherfucking voice. A year has passed. But how the fuck you were supposed to forget it?. You felt your ears buzzing, face heating and heartbeat racing. You were losing your breath and suddenly the pain of your finger got worst and worst.

He didn't turn to look at you, just got inside by looking at his phone, and once he was sit in front of you, his facial expression dropped.

There were the both of you, looking at eachother like dumb teenagers, like your finger wasnt bleeding out, almost like you were backat that bar in Bora-bora again.

-I... uh... yeah, my finger- you stutter, pointing at it. Mark shakes his head, coming back at his professional senses.

Before the medical procedure he performed, he bandaged your finger, and wrote some medicine you had to take for the pain to go away.

-It should be okay on a few weeks, nothing to worry about- he smiled at you, trying to comfort you. You felt your heart drop when he grabbed the healthy of both of your hands and caressed your palm with his thumb, everything felt like a flashback. You looked at him with clueless eyes.

-I... uh... I should come back in a few weeks then- you stuttered, pressing your lips into a thin line while looking at him directly on his eyes. He nods.

-Lee-

You frowned -Huh?-

-My last name is Lee-

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenario #nct scenario #nct smut #mark lee #mark lee scenario #mark lee smut #mark lee imagines #kpop smut #kpop scenario #kpop imagines

173 notes · View notes

reallybadfeeling · 3 years

Text

My Obikin Playlist Masterpost

I'm gonna try to explain my reasoning, but you can give each song whatever interpretation you want. Also, use them however you want if any of them inspire you to make something creative.

(PS: Sorry for my ranting on the first song. I'm very passionate about it in particular.) (Tagging @imtryingsstuff because she asked for it. Even though I was already working on this post before she asked. I have way too much free time.)

☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧

❧ Heart + Bones - Roisin O

I've tried to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times But I was always too scare of what I might find But if I keep on blocking this pain out It might be too late To heal my heart somehow Don't wanna open that wound Don't wanna replay that night Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know that love is gone 'Cause if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind It's the heart and bones It's an empty soul The dreams at night that shake me to my core And I can't get up off this floor It's in the bones of me An empty soul in me The dreams at night that shake me to my core I can't get off this floor [...] Don't wanna think about you When you're no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone [...] The dreams at night that shake me to my core I just can't take this hurting anymore [...] Don't wanna think about you You are no longer mine Don't wanna write you a love song When I know this love is gone 'Cause if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all I've tries to sit down and write this song out Feels like a thousand times

A fair warning: each and every break-up song in this playlist is basically me crying at the idea of a very heart broken Obi-Wan post RotS alone on Tatooine. But for this song in particolar I mention the repetitions with the slight differences because in my eyes they are actually HUGE! The more the song goes on, the more Obi-Wan is spiraling! The way it specifically tells that the empty soul is his the second time, like he accepts that despite what Anakin did he still thinks there's a soul there to save, and the idea of not doing so makes his soul feel empty. And the switch from "get up off this floor" to "get off this floor", literally him being so desperate he stops thinking that he wants to get up (and the last time it literally becomes "i just can't take this hurting anymore", because Obi-Wan had to see so many people he loves die, he literally can't take any more breaking of his heart). The first "you are no longer mine" is the realization hitting him, but then it becomes "when you are no longer mine" and that feels like acceptance of that realization (but then later in the song it turns back to "you are no longer mine" like he's so desperate he wants to deny it once again, distance himself from it)! The switch from "that love" from "this love", like the first time he's thinking about how Anakin no longer loves him, but then realizes that no matter how much he still loves Anakin, there is actually nothing he can do about how everything is broken. But most of all the first time it's "if I let myself think of you I might lose my mind", which is Obi-Wan still being rational about things, or at least trying not to let his mind linger on the thought of Anakin; but then at the end it becomes "if I let my mind think of you I might lose it all", because he's already thinking about Anakin and he can't let his mind linger on it, otherwise he would realize how much he lost when he lost Anakin, which is everything. And the ending too, by repeating the start, but now it has a feeling of resignation to it, like at first he was literally scared to let himself linger on his feelings because he knew he would find heart break, but now he's just empty and at the same times he knows he'll feel like that a thousand times more, because he just can't let that hurt go, he can't let his love for Anakin be forgotten. ... I love this song and it shows. I mean, the playlist is literally named after it for a good reason. I swear I'll be less wordy for every other explanation.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Black Hole - Griff

It seems like things are going really well for you I wish that I could say the same about me too I wish that I could say the same [...] Without a trace You disappeared and took some of me with you, babe Like the way I used to laugh untile my belly ached Well, that's all gone away now And boy, you know I've tried to pray, I've bruised my knees I've tried to bring you back to me I've tried my best to find some kind of peace Don't you see? There's a big black hole where my heart used to be And I've tried my best to fill it up with things I don't need It don't work like that, no, it's not easy To fill this gap that you left in me

So, I see this as a song for an AU, maybe a Modern Au. Something basic like the two of them maybe being neighbors and Obi-Wan maybe being a tutor for Anakin when he was a teen, and Anakin having a huge crush on him. But then Obi-Wan marries and Anakin is heart broken. (Don't worry the idea is also that Obi-Wan gets a divorce and comes back to Anakin, but still, the song fits for the first part of this idea). But feel free to see whatever else you want in it.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips

I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bride To make you well, to make you well When enemies are at your door I'll carry you away from war [...] Give me reasons to believe That you would do the same for me And I will do it for you, for you Baby, I'm not moving on I'll love you long after you're gone

This is honestly a classic. It would fit with any ship, but that line about lying, cheating, etc... That screams Anakin. Like, literally canon that he would do anything to keep the person he loves with him.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ What You Talking About? - Peter Bjorn and John

You used to be my hero Now you're just another boss [...] Five years as your understudy When I can't understand what you talking about [...] Tell me lies and I will listen Tell the truth and I'll be gone Tell me why I need permission [...] Shining in your shadow How could I sink this low? Our acquaintance has been so-so And I can't understand where my patience's gone

These lyrics just give me very frustrated Anakin as a Padawan trying to navigate his relationship with Obi-Wan. Not very romantic or shippy, but still relevant in my opinion.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Bruci la città - Irene Grandi

(Let) The city burn down or live in fear (that) within two hours everything will disappear anything else will disappear [...] I can't stop (myself) from screaming That I hold you to my heart To protect you from evil That I wish I could soothe Your pain, your pain [...] (Let) The stars explode (Let) The whole thing explode (Let) Everything other than the two of us die At least for a little bit At least as a mistake [...] I want to get my act together Maybe be better And shield you with my heart From catastrophe and fear

Don't really know why, but this makes me think of a quiet moment in the middle of the Clone Wars, just Anakin and Obi-Wan alone in a tent, hoping to have a moment of peace in each other's arms. (If you want the full lyrics translated let me know, I just picked my favorite parts)

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Atlantis - Seafret

We got here the hard way All those words that we exchange Is it any wonder things get dark? 'Cause it's in my heart, it's in my head I never take back the things I said [...] I can't save us My Atlantis, we fall We've built this town on shaky ground [...] Now all the birds have fled The hurt just leaves me scared Losing everything I've ever known It's all become too much Maybe I'm not built for love If I knew that I could reach you, I would go

SO MUCH OBI-WAN ANGST POST-ROTS! Like, the birds that have fled are the Jedi that survived Order 66, the things impossible to take back a reference to the entire conversation between Anakin and Obi-Wan during their duel... And the one thing that always breaks me: "maybe I'm not built for love", which makes me think about that "infinte sadness" thing that comes from one of the novels. *chef kiss*

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ No Time To Die - Billie Eilish

I should have known I'd leave alone Just goes to show That the blood you bleed is just the blood you owe We were a pair [...] You were my life, but like is far away from fair Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to everybody else? That I'd fallen for a lie You were never on my side [...] I let it burn You're no longer my concern Faces from my past return Another lesson yet to learn

Don't know about you, but this always makes me think of a lonely and bitter Obi-Wan after RotS. There's also another way of reading this honestly. This could absolutely be Anakin spiraling at the end of RotS, convinced that Padmé doesn't love him anymore; and then Vader facing Luke (the face from the past returning) and realizing the one who always lied to him was Palpatine.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ White Flag - Dido

I know I left too much mess and Destruction to come back again And I caused nothing but trouble I understand if you can't talk to me again And if you live by the rules of "it's over" Then I'm sure that that makes sense But I will go down with this ship And I won't put my hands up and surrender There will be no white flag above my door I'm in love and always will be And when we meet Which I'm sure we will All that was there Will be there still I'll let it pass And hold my tongue And you will think That I've moved on

There's no doubt that this song has been overused. And it is a very classic meme, so sometimes it's hard to take it seriously. But I still love it. And I can't help but relate this to something with Vader trying to redeem himself but failing at that too, and his and Obi-Wan's relationship still being broken as fuck.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Fight the End - The playground

When it's all falling apart I'll be the one who can hold you Console you When everything's getting dark And you can't find the spark To get through I'll fight for you till the end Whatever's broken I'll mend For you If you think it's all gone Just breathe in and hold on Till the end of time

Once again, just some H/C during the Clone Wars kind vibes, but also good for an apocalypse AU of some kind.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Hanging On A Lie - Striking Matches

I'm not mentioning a specific part of this song, because the entire thing in my head is just the whole journey of Anakin turning to the Dark Side and then turning back to the Light right before he died. Seriously, up until the first chorus, it's just Anakin talking about what he feels like about Padmé's supposed betrayal. ("Baby you've been up to something / don't you tell me it's not what it looks like" but also "I might have been naive but I'm not blind" and "Don't you know you should know better than this / Than to cover up the truth with your poisonous lips/I'm not falling for it this time"). The second half of the song is Vader facing Luke. ("I'll be the one who got away from you when you / finally figure it out / you won't find me"). And the last part is Vader realizing all the lies Palpatine told him all alon. ("I'm not fallin' for it this time/try and try too little too late" and again the "you should know better than this/than to cover up the truth with you poisonous lips") A bit of a weird interpretation, that's for sure. But look at me making a song about cheating all about Anakin's journey!

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Bloodsport '15 - Raleigh Ritchie

Your love is worth it and for that I will wait And though you hate me when you have a turn I drive you crazy, but you always return [...] Although you love me, sometimes we're mean Things can get ugly, but we're still a team We are an army that breaks from withing but That's why we're stronger and that's how we'll win [...] I've got your back, and though it's stacked against us I've got your hand, it's us against consensus And I will burn the people who hurt you the worst and I will no learn Cause I am too young and too dumb to consider the terms of breaking the law And I'll curse the day that they return With a smile on my face as their heads hit the floor And they're done, now it's curtains, the bloodlust's a clusterfuck, it hurts but it's working And even if you ask me to stop, it's too late because I've already decided their fate It's not a distaste, it's pure hate and it pulsates and it works its way around my brain Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I'll protect you till the day I meet my maker So don't fight me now cause you might need me later Loving you is a bloodsport Fighting in a love war It's not what I'm in love for, I'm yours I don't know if you can help it, maybe I'm just being selfish

Soooo, basically Anakin doing to Obi-Wan what he did to Padmé: loving him so much he thinks he has to turn to the Dark Side to save him. The first part I can almost imagine said by Obi-Wan, actually. Like, he's aware that sometimes Anakin hates their dynamics, but also that they are both in love... Which just ends with total madness.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Sweet Love of Mine - Joy Williams

I was broken, I was blind Lost in a moment I thought I left behind Then you woke up this dark soul of mine Carrying a light I thought I'd never find When you found me, I was all alone The whole world around me, but nowhere to call home I heard your voice sing like heaven's choir Gathered up my fears and threw them in the fire

I'm well aware this song is about pregnancy and how the singer found herself in the experience of becoming a mother. BUT, hear me out: what about an AU with either one of them being a Sith and the other one is still a Jedi. Instead of fighting each other, the Jedi tries to save the Sith, because they realize that the Sith actually never had a chance to be anything else since they grew up with a Sith as their "parent" and Master. But if we still want to keep the pregnancy element, fuck it! It's perfect for an Omegaverse AU, with Anakin maybe about to fall when he finds out he's pregnant and that is how Obi-Wan and their unborn child save Anakin. (Is this very specific? Yes. Do I care? Nope, and that's why this song made it into the playlist.)

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Senza fare sul serio - Malika Ayane

There's a post on my blog already about why this song makes me think about the Jedi Order in general. I know I should probably keep it in a different playlist. Alas, it's still here. Have a link to my previous post if you are interested on reading a complete translation and the explanation of my reasoning. HERE!

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Conversations in the Dark - John Legend

I will never try to change you, change you I will always want the same you, same you Swear on everything I pray to That I won't break your heart I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely Keep the secrets that you told me, told me And your love is all you owe me And I won't break your heart [...] And we, we got places we both gotta be But there ain't nothing I would rather do Then blow off all my plans for you

It's just such a lovely love song, I couldn't help myself. This seriously gives me sappy Obi-Wan vibes in any way, shape or form.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ If You Ever Leave, I'm Coming With You - The Wombats

You know I'll do Whatever you want me to [...] Take you out of this You reluctant optimist And if you ever leave, I'm coming with you Stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe If you ever leave, I'm coming with you [...] Am I losing you in the dark baby? No more breaking stuff No more acting up Filling your head with doubt

A song about the obsessive kind of love that hints of a way too dependent relationship? Something that mentions losing themselves in the dark? Of fucking course I relate this to Anakin and the way he loves people!

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Transplant - Sea Girls

You're breaking all the promises tonight I'm always dancing by myself as the music plays I'm always one step behind, off-beat, out of place Now I'm looking for you, you're looking away [...] Your heart changed Mine stayed the same I don't recognize your voice when you're saying my name Your heart changed And mine beats the same way [...] Wish I could be back in the moment We were shining, we were making mistakes 'Til your heart changed Mine stayed the same

Have I mentioned that I have a lot of RotS feels? Yeah, so, in my head the "dancing" works like an analogy to fighting and the "music" is literally the sound of battle. Which is why this fits perfectly as far as I'm concerned. An even the "always one step behind" part is just Obi-Wan not realizing Anakin was slowly turning to the Dark Side. But it can be related also to how Anakin basically felt like he didn't truly belong with the Jedi.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Read my Mind - JONES

Can't control my thoughts But I'm trying every day [...] But sometimes I want impossible things When you hear my voice, what does it say? Need a language, we're lost in translation From impossible thoughts and feelings Why don't you know before I know? What I need to say, before I can How come you don't have the answer Before I asked you the question? Wish you could read my mind [...] It's been a long time since we've been together In the same world, just want you to look at me Like I was everything you ever wanted again [...] Just hold me like I'm everything you wanted again

A good song of the two people pining will always make me think of those two dorks. And their feeling are definitely lost in translation even in canon, with Anakin never realizing how much Obi-Wan actually cares for him because of Palpatine's manipulations.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ So Much It Hurts - Niki & The Dove

Oh, I ask you where you've been 'Cause you always come home late nowadays What a fool was I to think we were safe From the thieves in the temple [...] Oh, won't you bring it back? After all that we've been through together Is it now you gonna throw it all away? Oh, a love like ours Tell me, was it worth it? Oh, the thieves in the temple Oh, but you said that For better for worse You would always be there for me Always be there for me Always be there for me like I'll always be there for you Good times and bad times

So this screams Padmé being cheated on. Like, Anakin still married to her, yet he is always sneaking away after they spend time together to be in the Temple with Obi-Wan. Like, Obi-Wan is literally the thief in the Temple that steals Anakin away from her. (Which I'm sure is actually a metaphor for how the couples' marriage is the temple and someone is disrespecting it by taking away the other's lover. But look at me making this literal, 'cause why not!).

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ Power & Control - Marina

Give a little, get a lot That's just how you are with love [...] Think you're funny, think you're smart Think you're gonna break my heart Think you're funny, think you're smart Yeah, you may be good looking But you're not a piece of art [...] Power and control I'm gonna make you fall I'm gonna make you fall We give and take a little more 'Cause all my life I've been controlled You can't have peace without a war

Another song for an AU, this time one with both of them being Sith, most likely being enemies too at first. Before they decide to work together against Anakin's Master.

❣🅞🅑🅘🅚🅘🅝❣

❧ No Hero - Elisa

Don't you shut your eyes And hide you heart behind a shadow 'Cause you can count on me As long as I can breathe [...] I've fallen from grace Yeah, I'm much less a saint than a sinner Oh, no I ain't no superhuman 'Cause that's just in the movies, I know But I'll carry you throught the night Through the storm Give you love, always love in return I can't jump over buildings I'm no hero But love can do miracles I can't outrun a bullet 'Cause I'm no hero But I would take one for you [...] 'Cause I'm no hero But I'd spill my blood for you If you need me to I'll be there

Another song from an Italian artist, but this one is in English! And I totally see this song for a scenario where one of the two isn't a Jedi or even for a Modern AU. But it can totally work for Canon compliant too because Anakin is the one every calls hero with no fear. It fits then if Obi-Wan tells Anakin that he doesn't feel like a hero, but he would do anything for Anakin.

☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧ ☙ ✤ ❧

SOOOO, this post is getting way to long (like, it was way too long even just with the first song). And I made it to an even 20 songs. I feel like this a nice place to stop for now. Don't worry, these are just the first 20. I have more in my private playlist, but I want to make another post like this when I add them to the public one. Because I can. And that's what I'm gonna do.

#obikin #obikin playlist #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #if you do anything with these song please TAG ME!#I wanna know!#i get very emotional for heart + bones #it's one of my favorite song ever #the subtle poetry of it gets to me every single time #that is THE break up song #fight me over it #maybe I should have made a single post about it #that would have been smarter #oh well #also sorry for the truly terrible icon #i have no photoshop skill whatsoever #Spotify

22 notes · View notes

geminil0vr · 3 years

Text

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 !

the masterlist -> part one

summary ✰ it's the night of the slytherin bash, and, intoxicated, you almost blurt out all your relationship troubles to pansy and the boys of slytherin.

tags ✰ @partr1dge <3

word count ✰ 3.4k

content ✰ alcohol, weed, rip. mill's hairbrush, a big party, drunk/high people and reader, mentions of sex, mild (but just as serious) sexual assault, boyfriend being pushy, arguments, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, pansy lowkey admiring the reader and vice versa, pansy taking off your makeup for you.

a/n ✰ yes we're having a lil party moment right on shedyool <3 i think i made draco too hot in this like have i forgotten this is a pansy fic ?? and i've been listening to the playlist on repeat for some inspiration but now all the songs are stuck in my head yikes... anyway, happy reading :))

letting out a short yell, you bolt out the way of millicent bulstrode being chased by her own hairbrush in your dorm room, falling backwards onto your bed, then leaning up on your forearms to watch in amusement as she squeals.

"stop it, stop it!"

pansy crosses her arms, leaning in the doorway for a moment before speaking calmly despite the urgent situation, "mill, i already told you not to try any beautification spells for tonight. they take a certain finesse that you clearly..." she eyes the hairbrush, which has somehow grown teeth, "lack."

daphne fervently attempts to throw millicent's wand to her, having lost her own somewhere in the room, ducking whenever the hairbrush swings too low by her head and yelling encouragement to her as she wails.

"it's gonna bloody eat me!"

you glance over to pansy, your lips quirked but still fighting the brighter grin that tries to force its way upon your mouth, one brow raised. she looks back with a smirk, raising her brows lazily, then pulls out her wand at last.

sure, you have yours, but come on! this is quality entertainment.

muttering a spell under her breath, the hairbrush rises, letting out a sharp, plasticky sound, teeth gnashing at the unknown force which has suddenly halted its rampage. then, thin, dark cracks begin to show upon its surface as it travels higher and higher into the air, finally letting out one last high-pitched sound before exploding into hot pink shards of plastic onto the wooden floor of the room.

millicent makes a lacklustre attempt of trying to catch certain pieces that are still falling, whining about how it was her favourite hairbrush. daphne drops the wand and falls back onto her duvet, exasperated, and you watch ahead in shock.

"blimey, pansy, couldn't you have just done 'finite'?" you ask, eyes wide.

"'s not nearly as much fun," she grins, bounding over to the large, dark oak wardrobe in the corner of the room, "now, ladies. what are we going to wear for the slytherin bash?"

"i bagsy y/n's black dress!" daphne pipes up, bouncing to sit cross-legged on her bed.

"no, you bloody well don't!"

you look in the mirror of the vanity, tucking back a few strands of hair out of your face and looking down at your silky emerald dress, the neckline dipping a little at your chest, the straps thin.

"whatever, i actually might look better in the green, anyway."

slinking out from the bathroom, daphne fixes the button on the back of the dress she's wearing, the black fabric clinging to her skin, "you definitely do."

"you're just saying that to keep my dress, aren't you?"

"maybe so. but you're still very pretty." she pecks your cheek and sits on her bed, fixing her curled hair in a compact mirror and swaying slightly to the thumping music already playing downstairs.

pansy pulls at her dress, leaning onto the vanity and applying a thin coat of red lipstick over her lips, looking at you through the glass "she's not wrong. you look nice."

you swallow, blinking at your reflection. you've brushed your brows, applied some blush, and a little smokey eyeliner, but nothing much. you don't mind letting your skin breathe a little, anyway.

"thanks, pansy." you eye her loose, sparkling, red dress, neckline dipping so low on her chest that you feel the sudden need to look away, instead focusing on her light-green eyes which never actually ceased intensely tracking the movements of your iris. "so do you."

"right. thank you."

millicent finishes tying her hair up, avoiding using any muggle products and therefore resorting to something simple, clipping it back with a claw accessory, "okay," she starts, and you and pansy quickly look away from each other, "so, are we going or not? can't be too late, they're still missing the life of the party!"

"mill, you pass out after three hours during almost every single party." daphne blinks.

"what's that saying, here for a good time but not a long time?" pansy snickers, zipping up her black boots.

millicent rolls her eyes playfully, crossing her arms. "shut your gobs, the two of you! now let's go!"

locking the door quickly on your way out so you won't have to deal with any arseholes doing it in your bed like last time (well, at least they were having a whale of a time), you bid goodbye to your dormmates who all part ways, immediately grabbing a bottle of firewhiskey from a large table in the corner, looking over at the youthful atmosphere suddenly claiming such a place as the slytherin common room.

pouring yourself a shot, although you're awful at doing those, you hold your nose (as if that's going to help) and gulp down the alcohol, finishing by setting the little glass down and placing your hands on the table full of drinks in front of you, hair falling down into your face.

feeling a hand on your waist, you tense and stand up straight, not relaxing much when your boyfriend kisses your cheek and whispers a 'hello' into your ear.

"ben!" you exclaim, turning around and smiling at him, though not genuinely, "i didn't know you were coming."

"some guys in the year above invited me, unlike my own girlfriend." he teases, gripping you by the waist and pulling you closer, and your nose scrunches at the sharp stench of beer on his breath. putting two and two together, considering how he's slurring his words, you realise he's already tipsy.

"right, sorry!" you genuinely are, though if he hadn't showed up, you wouldn't mind much, "i didn't really find out until the lesson before my free hour, and, well, you wanted us to go to your room, so —"

"oh, yeah. how could i forget?" he leans in, almost stumbling over his own two feet as he gets even closer to you, pulling you to him by your waist and kissing your neck, making you push your head down a little. the party having only just started, people are still piling in and the lights aren't turned off just yet.

you push him by the chest, gently, "it's still early, benny. not now."

ignoring your wishes, he nibbles at your neck, and you bring your shoulder up in discomfort, "but don't you want a repeat?" no, you really don't.

"ben, just, back off, please." you push a little more firmly now, shaking him off, and going to grab the bottle again to pour yourself another shot of firewhiskey as an excuse to not stay so close to him. but clearly that tactic isn't great, because he pushes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly.

"come on, this party'll be lame anyway. your room's empty, right?" you freeze as his lips meet your throat once more, swallowing before finding it in yourself to stretch your shoulders back, and push his arms from your waist, quickly pouring the shot and keeping it in your hand, just in case you need to spill it on him as a distraction.

if he's gonna be pushy, he could at least be decent in bed.

well, at least, that's your cynical view on it.

"ben. no. my — my friends are here, and i... i don't want to leave them all alone." you fiddle with the shot glass in your hand, brows furrowed, and he exhales loudly before shrugging his shoulders.

"if you don't want me then you could've just said so."

your eyes widen, "no, i didn't mean it like that, just that... just not tonight."

"well, it kinda seems like you're not interested. but whatever, y/n, it's fine." as you try to reach out to him, he walks over to his friends, and you lean against the table, gulping down the firewhiskey and wincing at the burn in your throat.

shit.

"come on, y/n! they're dimming the lights now, i wanna dance!" daphne bounds over to you, dragging you by the arm before you can protest.

and you oblige.

two hours in, you're tipsy, worn-out from all the dancing, yet still going back between the many students for more adrenaline. grinning as a song you love comes on, you regroup your dormmates in the crowd, grabbing them by their hands and all winding your hips to the beat, millicent giggling and falling over her feet, daphne tearing away from her boyfriend to join with a smile on her face. pansy isn't very giggly when drinking, you've noticed. in close settings, sure, but in big parties like this, everyone so close, air hot, green lights strobing across the common room... she just dances. raising her hands above her head, swaying her hips, twirling her friends around by their fingers — it's almost sensual. well, to anyone else. not to you.

pansy eyes you as you spin — the exhilarated grin on your face from being able to shrug off everything burdening you, everything weighing atop your shoulders. and she realises that she likes the shine of the strobing lights against your skin, your nose and cheeks gleaming, eyes a little bloodshot and chest glistening from all the alcohol in your system, and all the dancing. and when you and pansy finally get off the dancefloor to join the slytherin boys on the sofas, she likes the way your eyes tear up a little after taking a long drag from the joint that's being passed around.

"this isn't laced with anything, right?" you clear your throat to speak over the music, passing it back to theo, head dizzy. you watch the lights entangle themselves between little clouds of smoke, and wonder which cloud is yours.

"what do you think i am, a drug lord? no, it is not laced with anything." he rolls his eyes, leaning back on the sofa.

blaise elbows him, looking at you and pansy who are both sitting next to each other, "don't mind him — you know he gets bitchy when he smokes."

"do not." theo huffs.

"yes, you do." draco deadpans, snatching the joint from his hands and inhaling the smoke, blowing it upwards from his bottom lip.

you chuckle, stretching to settle comfortably into the sofa and tapping pansy's bare thigh subconsciously, to which she tenses, "i feel like nott's always a bitch, regardless."

"not wrong there." theo winks at you, rubbing at his eyes. your head feels like it's spinning, and you giggle again, leading blaise to do the same.

"what's so funny, y/l/n?" pansy raises her brows nonchalantly, crossing her legs and studying you at her right. she's taken the joint between her plump lips now, inhaling deeply for a second, then blowing it up into the air.

"think it's the weed." you giggle once more, eyelids heavy, leaning your head onto her shoulder — you two are much more friendly when a little bit intoxicated and high. more so you, than her.

draco leans back into the armchair he's sitting in, looking over to the corner of the room and spotting your ravenclaw boyfriend drinking with his friends in the corner. and, being significantly less of an arsehole with something in his system, draco decided to be polite.

"how's the boyfriend, y/n?" you chuckle at this, smiling softly and lifting your head up from pansy's shoulder.

"my boyfriend is an absolute, grade O, cockhead."

the whole group is still for a short moment, exchanging varying levels of shock and amusement, before turning back to you. draco speaks again, "is that so?"

"mhmm." you nod lazily, as if your head is too heavy to hold up, pointing over at him from the other side of the room, "ben sucks. he's awful. if i could, i would — well, i mean, i could, but if i really could, i'd —"

"right, i think that's enough of that for tonight." pansy takes the joint from between your index and middle finger, interrupting you and attempting to change the subject considering your tipsy and high state. she’s been through enough non-sober confessions in her lifetime to know best.

"no, i mean it. and it would be worth it if he would actually fuck m—"

"i said, enough." pansy presses, trying to save you any embarrassment. being good enough friends with the slytherin boys of your year since you all first arrived, you know there'll be no judgement or rumours spread around. but, still. better not to air out all of your dirty laundry, or whatever the americans say. well, that's what 'sober you' would say. and right now, you're completely ready to confess how shitty your boyfriend is, to reveal the dialogue that usually only stays in your head.

"come on, pansy, the people wanna know." blaise raises his finger to her, grinning. the boy loved drama; he wasn't a sharer, but certainly a listener.

"i, the people, do not care." draco raises his finger as well, slouched in his seat.

"and i, the people, say you're not gonna let y/n humiliate herself. if she really wants to say this, she’ll do it when she’s sober.” pansy frowns, standing up and gripping your arm, passing the joint over to theo who was watching the scene casually.

“usually you love this stuff!” theo raises his arms lazily for emphasis.

“well, she’s my friend.” pansy gives him a blink stare.

"blah, blah, blah, parkinson." you slur you words a little, and she scowls, "i'm ready to say it. ben rowen is shite in and out of the be—"

she muffles your voice with her hand, forcing you to get up and follow her to the dormitory calmly, as you attempt to yell through her fingers, instead practically humming. it's not a messy, nor embarrassing scene -- you're at least sober enough to know better, and no one's paying attention anyway, not with the beat of the music thrumming through the room, vibrating the floor beneath your feet. but you're not sober enough to control your urge to break down and admit that you desperately want to break up with your boyfriend, even though you think you still love (the old, fake) him, even though you're scared to break his heart.

seeing the scene from across the common room, ben strides over with a purpose, and the boys on the sofa snort at his actions. "what happened?" he tears pansy's hand from your mouth (thankfully, you're not wearing lipstick), to which she scrunches up her nose, clenching her jaw and glancing to the side impatiently.

"your girlfriend had a little too much to drink and smoke. she's going to bed."

"she can just stay with me." he seems over his annoyance from before. shame his annoying personality continues to linger, you think.

pansy eyes him up and down rapidly, grip still firm on your arm. there’s something about your boyfriend, especially considering your change in behaviour around him, that pisses her off. you're looking between the two of them with wide eyes, considerably amused. "no."

"what do you mean, no?" you notice now that he's much, much drunker than before. the boys are still watching, leaning forward to hear over the music. well, theo and blaise are -- draco gives the 'altercation' a glance before setting his focus on the almost-finished joint between his fingers.

"i thought ravenclaws were meant to have an IQ of at least more than ten — no, means, i will not let her stay with you, she's going to sleep it off." you look over to the sofas and give a look the boys, half-grimacing, half-grinning.

"listen, i'm the boyfriend here —"

"are you? because i don't recall you ever being present the entire party."

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean, i was just over —"

"with her, i mean. why don't you go drown yourself in some more of that beer you obviously like so much," 'ouch', blaise mouths, "and i'll take care of your girlfriend, who... y/n?" you stop making frantic pointing gestures to the boys to ‘translate’ what they were saying since the boys couldn’t lip read, turning your attention to the people in front of you.

"yup?" you shrug, tilting your head up at her, being just an inch or two shorter.

pansy closes her eyes, sighing, then shakes her head, feeling a little wobbly herself, "nevermind. let's get you to bed, huh?" she shoots daggers at ben, whose nostrils flare as you're guided to the girls dormitory. he goes after you two again, but is quickly halted when draco's voice raises over the music.

"perhaps you should let them leave, rowen. just head elsewhere — don't be an arse."

ben sighs in exasperation, making his way to the group, but draco sticks his leg out through the gap between the armchair and the sofa on which you were just sitting, making your boyfriend stumble back.

"that wasn’t an invitation." draco deadpans, although the corner of his lip quirks up as he takes a sip of firewhisky and raises his brows.

instead of casting a quick makeup removal spell, pansy opts to lean you against the bathroom sink at a safe distance, using a cotton pad and cleaning off your eyeliner and any sweat or blush left on your skin. you know, just in case the spell doesn't go well, and you end up being eaten by a magic cotton pad.

you close your eyes, gripping the cold sink behind you loosely as pansy wipes warm water over your skin.

"done." she nods, expressionless, as your eyes flutter open, easily casting 'incendio' on the cotton and not bothering to watch as it crumbles into ash on the floor. she certainly has a flair for the dramatics, and you can't help but think she's picked it up from draco malfoy.

you look into the mirror to smooth down your hair, eyes bloodshot, lips swollen from the firewhiskey (and a little from when pansy pressed her palm into them). she tosses pyjamas at you, and you wobble a bit when they hit your side.

"change."

"okay, sergeant." you snort as she shuts the door, clumsily picking up the shorts and sweater she'd thrown.

shrugging off your dress, you call out from inside the bathroom. "why did you get mad at ben?"

for a beat, there was silence, until she called back. "because he was being a 'cockhead'." pansy mocked.

"and why did you make me leave?" you pull up your pyjama shorts, squinting down and trying to tie a little bow at the front, rather unsuccessfully, "i was having fun."

"well, you were gonna embarrass yourself, y/n. i only helped you out."

after slipping on your large sweater, you peek your head out the door, seeing her tie her raven hair back into a tiny ponytail, most strands falling out due to the length of it (or lack thereof). she'd done a makeup removal spell on herself.

"you're going to bed, too?" you murmur, furrowing your brows.

"yeah, tired." she lies, sorting out her bed covers.

you bite the inside of your cheek before deciding to ‘confront’ her, “and, pansy?” her movements still, “i didn't need help. they're my friends, and i wanted to tell them —"

she turns around, cutting you off with a challenging look that makes you step fully into the doorway, "tell them what?"

you swallow. nevermind. maybe she was right to drag you out of the party. maybe she was right to have cut you off, instead of letting you indulge into your history and your barely-there sex life.

feeling like you're being frowned upon by authority, you duck your head sheepishly and clamber into bed, glancing over to millicent who has seemingly collapsed onto her bed and blacked out.

"is... everything okay with you and — you and ben, though?"

"yeah. i don't know what i was saying. he just pissed me off earlier and i started... talking shit." you lie through your teeth.

"right." she flicks off the lights with her wand, back turned to you as she sits on her bed, pulling off her dress and slipping into a big shirt. the lamp on your bedside table that she turned on beforehand faintly casts the room in a warm glow, and through the darkness you can see the pale skin of her back as she pulls it down. your eyes dart away, deciding to focus on the ceiling, instead, "and you're really okay?" she turns now, and relief washes over you — relief that she didn't turn sooner.

you eye her as she gets under her covers, propping her head up with her hand. you bury yours sideways into the pillow, wrapping the duvet tightly around your frame. "yeah. you?"

"yes, y/n. now, sleep off all that shit in your system. and lie on your side, not your back." you listen to what she's told you plenty of time before, and lean over to switch off the lamp, the entire room pitch black.

"'night, pansy."

"goodnight."

114 notes · View notes

the-art-of-styles · 3 years

Text

Ping-Pong

✧ Harry’s a foster kid who always seem to get abandoned until this particular family stays with him, but he can’t seem to trust them. Aylin, the girl across the street, talks too much and her parents fight a lot more. Both of them want to just get out of their houses, and playing ping-pong on the town’s fair brings them together for years.

Word count: 2144

Warnings: — (for now)

Part I (you’re here!)

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

A/N: hi ! this will be a short story so there will be multiple parts, obviously lol. there will be a number on the beginning of each chapter which means what age they are. I know the description makes it seem a bit boring but honestly is fluff and stuff like that :) hope u like it

Harry's head vibrated as he was leaning against the window while the car seemed to be cruising through sky, sea, and land, fighting storms and a giant monster when in truth they were just passing a dirt road.

Lilian, who was sitting co-pilot, looked back with fireworks exploding in her eyes every time she saw Harry, while Dev squeezed his wife hand tightly, her cheeks burning from the prominent smile that adorned her lips, which has remained intact since they left the place where the foster kids wait for someone to take pity on them and take them home. A real home.

On the other hand, the emotion was the least throbbing in the being of the boy, because he has already lived this process twice, three counting now and he knows that it will end in dissolving the existing family—the family by blood and then later go back to the orphanage and repeat the same process over and over and over again.

Well that's what he thinks. How could he not? The two families who took him in threw him out again like a stranded dog in search of the warmth of real love. So no, Harry doesn't want to allow himself to get excited and think that maybe they will keep him (yes, as an object) and that maybe they will love him and that maybe he will love them and that maybe Lilian will make him cookies with a glass of milk when he feels bad or that maybe Dev would teach him to cook or do his homework and that maybe everything will be fine.

"We have a lemon pie waiting for you at home, we — we don't know if you like it, I hope you like it, we prepared it with a lot of love for you, Harry."

"We prepared?" Dev laughed and Lilian rolled her eyes in amusement. "It would sound better if you say that I prepared, don't you think?" He looked in the mirror at Harry. "Champ, the kitchen almost burned down! Doing a lemon pie! Can you believe it?"

The curly-headed simply looked directly at Dev in the rearview mirror and tried to smile at him, which did not work and managed to slowly hide his prominent smile, Lilian giving him another firm grip on his hand and smiling at him with sorrow because deep down they both know that Harry isn't going to trust them just like that. He has felt used, but he also think he's useless, people have abandoned him, he doesn't have parents or a real family, so they understand.

And they will wait for him to open up, because having a child on their own was something that, unfortunately, they could not fulfill.

Aylin's small hands covered both of her ears as she hid under the covers, without first making sure to close the door to her room. Her eyes were tight and a melody came from her lips that she sang every time this happened; but even so, the screams and loud words coming from the floor below her were not drowned out and managed to enter her brain.

It has been a full two weeks now where breakfast, lunch, and dinner were a big plate of arguments from her parents. Now, apparently, it also came in snacks.

Another sound was added to her brain, they were more murmurs and an engine being turned off, although the murmurs were not from her incredibly angry parents, but from some who were calm and trying to gain the trust of a new family member.

Curious as always, like a monkey hanging from a tree, she got out of it (that is, her bed) and went to the window where her big eyes filmed a new scene that she had never seen before: the Evans were getting out of their car with a boy in a black joggers and jumper, dirty sneakers, and a hat. Aylin's mouth parted slightly, surprised that the Evans had never mentioned a cousin or that they had a godson.

She doesn't know how long she was watching them, but she was fed up because now the only staging was the house across the street and the car parked outside was already inside the tiny garage.

Even her parents' screaming stopped, so she supposed that the hands of the clock turned the clock several times in a row and extremely fast; speed of light, up to.

Suddenly, her eyes caught how the same boy from a while ago came out and closed the front door ever so softly, squeezing his eyes a little as there was no longer any open space between the frame and the wood, placing a hand on his chest and releasing all the air in his lungs. Then, he put on the hood that came with his jumper and started walking. Aylin, with a smile on her lips, ran down the stairs and also left, obnoxious about the fact that her parents don't even care where their thirteen-year-old daughter will go alone, but that was already typical.

The truth is that lately she has been feeling lonely, her house no longer feels like home and love was not a prominent thing in her heart, so the opportunity to be with someone who is probably her own age coming at a silver tray for her is something she cannot throw away, so jogging and running short of breath to reach the boy, Aylin yelled:

"Hey! Wait! You! Wait – please!"

Harry stopped walking and turning his torso a few degrees and pulling his hood off, he made eye contact with Aylin, who was still jogging with one hand outstretched in a 'stop please I'm dying' sign.

"Um. . ." he started looking behind her in case Lilian or Dev sent the stranger after him. "Do you need help or. . .?"

"You arrived with the Evans, didn't you?"

"Er, yes."

"Are you their godson? Cousin? They never told me about a cousin," Aylin said the last more to herself, pursing her lips.

"Um. . . I'm—" Harry debated whether to admit that he was taken in from an orphanage or that he was a cousin — a godson, whatever. He thought that, thanks to past experiences, they will get rid of him in about three weeks, or a month, or even less, so: "I'm a. . . godson. Yes. That's what I am."

"Oh, cool!" It wasn't. Aylin's illusions of having a new friend were crushed like an ant walking through a crowd, because if he was a godson then he wouldn't stay that long, anyway, it doesn't hurt to befriend him in the time that remains. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know. I wanted to walk— "

"Cool! Let's walk together. I'm Aylin. What's your name? There's this really cool fair at the center of the town, it has a loooot of cool games and cool stuff! Let's go there!"

". . . alone." Harry's word was lost with the wind as Aylin wasted no time in entwining her arm with his to pull him and walk with him while smiling from ear to ear for her new friend; on the other hand, Harry grumbled and what he wanted the most was to have duct tape to place it on the girl's mouth, she never stopped talking!

". . . And so the teacher farted and everyone laughed and— look! We arrived!"

The two (still with arms intertwined) were standing in front of the start of the fair: lots of people, perhaps everyone who lives here in this small town came and went, children with cotton candy or candied apples, teenagers joking with their friends and parents waiting for the adrenaline rush in their children's bodies to relax. Immediately one could see the great white ferris wheel, the biggest game of all.

"There are so many games!" Aylin kept talking as the two of them walked through the crowd. Harry must admit that his mood improved a bit when he saw all the attractions and happy faces and the smell of candy, but he stopped short when he saw an unoccupied ping-pong table, when she noticed this, she looked at the boy and smiled. "You like ping-pong, huh?" He nodded. "Me too! Let's play!"

And so now the two of them were at either end of the table, paddle in hand, Aylin the black one and Harry the red one, the latter holding the white ball in his left hand, his tongue peeking out the side of his lips as he concentrated to make a good shot.

Although it's hard to concentrate when she keeps talking, and talking, and talking.

Some say it's a quality, others say it's irritating, but she can't help it, her tongue is never in a knot and words always roll down from it as easily as if they were made of butter. Aylin knows well how talkative she is, and there are times when she hates such quality because she does not know when to stop talking, and sometimes, inadvertently, she begins to talk about personal problems. . . like now.

They were both quite good at playing ping-pong, their wrists moved with fluidity and a technique that was not naive at all, the harmony of the game rarely was cut off and the ball rolled on the floor where one of the two had to come out chasing after it like an idiot.

"My parents have been arguing a lot lately. I mean, they always argue but now it's like a lot, everyday. Last night," ping–, "I heard them saying some things. I think my dad is with. . . you know. . . another woman,"–pong.

"They will probably divorce. I've seen it. . . in movies! Yeah. . . movies."

Aylin stopped the game by catching the ball and setting her paddle on the blue table. Harry frowned. "Why did you stop?"

"A-are my parents going to break up?"

Harry swallowed the accumulated saliva inside his mouth as he realized that Aylin's usually lively eyes had now passed away and a layer of tears was the only thing that made them shine.

"I, um, er, I mean, they probably will— not! They'll probably figure it, uh, out?" By then, the girl's cheeks had turned red as a watermelon and tears were already streaming down her cheeks like a winter storm, placing a hand over her mouth and running off, losing herself in the crowd.

Harry's mouth fell open in agape as guilt filled his heart. He wanted her to be quiet, but not in this way, so the only thing he could think of was to chase her, although it will be difficult to find her when there are hundreds of people running from one place to another and many loud sounds.

"Aylin! Aylin! Where are you Aylin?!"

Now he was getting desperate: according to the watch that was stolen from one of the houses he was in, twelve minutes have passed since he went out in search, but without being able to find the treasure. Thousands of situations and thoughts crossed his mind: she's lost, it's your fault, she was kidnapped, it's your fault, maybe she's dead, it's your fault, it's your fault, it's your fault.

In the end, it seems like it's always Harry's fault.

Then he saw her. She was sitting on the ground, the darkness playing in her favor, her knees bent toward her chest and her arms hugging herself.

In the end, it seems that Aylin will always have to hug herself.

He hadn't even noticed when his feet guided him to one of the tent shops and now he had a cotton candy in one hand and a candied apple in the other. He had no idea where he got the money from; he just rummaged in his pockets and voilà! Money.

Harry sat next to her somewhat nervous, he didn't know what to say, or how to act, what he should think, less how to give her what he bought her. Aylin already knew of his presence, but said nothing.

"Ejm, I — I bought you this, I'm not sure if you like cotton candy more or candied apple. . . uh, which one?"

She sniffed her nose that looked like Rudolph the reindeer's nose and turned her head to look at Harry. Her eyes were swollen and from time to time she would shake from the force (and consistency) of her crying.

Slowly, with her index finger, she pointed, surprisingly shy at the cotton candy. Harry smirked because at least she accepted his ‘forgive me gift’. He kept the apple and the two of them silently began to eat the sweets.

And Harry thought that perhaps he wanted to hear her speak more, since now there was no sound between the two, not even of her breathing, nor of her thoughts. But at least she ate with him.

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles blurbs #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction

11 notes · View notes