Tumgik
#Many Thoughts and so little appropriate space for them
hellenhighwater · 1 day
Note
I love the celestial Minotaur concept. Am I out of line to ask, what celestial moment in time would b e appropriate for each one? You mentioned ArtPrize, and since I live in the same state as you and have been to Art Prize (lol in conjunction with your profession,even), I considered the venue for display. A big bedsheet size heavens moment in time? Over each sculpture (shockingly inexpensive to print)? So many messages could be implied with the astrological moment above. As someone who loves a good research rabbit hole, I wince to send this, but I couldn't not ask, you know?
I actually don't have an answer to specific astronomical moments for this--astrology has never been my thing. The primary resonance of a celestial theme to me with this series has been more about the layered tragedy of a creature named for the stars, who may never have even seen them, and also something about a finished story being like the light of a dead star--we still see it, but the ending of it is already written, and as unavoidable and unchangeable as history. And also I just like space!
But one of the things I really love about making and sharing art is that people see different things in it. I didn't expect A Crack in the Labyrinth to resonate with homebound people in the way that it did; that was a total surprise. I tend to make things with a very clear message and symbolism in mind (the process of making things is time consuming but does not take a ton of conscious thought in the physical process, so I tend to have very thoroughly contemplated things by the time I'm done, because ADHD brain Does Not Stop) and it feels like a win when people get that message. But it's also really exciting to see expansion on that! I try to walk the line of making my intent clear while leaving room for that interpretation. I struggle to not cram allll the ideas into one piece.
So I'm not planning to actually incorporate my clock of the world or any other outright, external "sky" to these pieces, in large part because it feels too explicit in message. Kind of like 'telling' instead of 'showing.' I have thought about, if I'm able to successfully cast multiples of the miniataur, maybe some kind of small display space that could include a little starry sky of some kind.
138 notes · View notes
Text
Astarion Jealousy Part 2
The graphic extension to this but a lil less serious and definitely not sfw.
CW: Jealous spawn astarion who is still a sweetheart, but the drow twins get under his skin. graphic sex scenes, oral, relatively tame honestly. The sex part will be under the cut btw which is m/f. Also vampire man drinks blood. mentionable incorrect language for sex workers
~
It was odd, being home in Baldur’s Gate without the threat of Cazador always looming. Odd, but equally as wonderful. It had been so thoughtful, if not a little idiotic for Cazador to end up being your first stop in the city. The fight itself had been a blur, a barrage of intense emotions and bloody violence. Astarion had come so close to losing himself back there, losing everything that made him better than the man who almost ruined him. But then… you stopped him. You saw something more in him, a chance for a better life. A more meaningful life, away from the shackles of vampiric power obsessions. 
He was officially free. Now he could exist without any fear of his disgusting master’s retribution. He could just… be. Well… not including his darling’s own myriad of enemies that seemed to follow them about everywhere. And there was still the matter of defeating the elder brain, and lord knows if any of you made it through that alive. But at least his personal demons were slain and out of the picture.
Every little step counted after all. Perhaps some of your delusional hopefulness had finally started to rub off on him, but Astarion was actually starting to look forward to his future. Your future, together. All he had to do was get through a few more perilous adventures and then he’d really have you all to himself. 
All that said, Astarion could really go without the frequent visits to the local brothel. Was it the best place in the city for gathering information? Yes. It seemed that every walk of life in Baldur’s Gate found their way into Shar’s Caress and if you were going to find alternative passage to the underworld, this would be the best place to find it. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. For one there were the unwelcome advances to his own person, the concept of grace and personal space apparently left at the door. He was so very close to breaking the hand of the next person who thought it was appropriate to grab his ass. And if they could afford to get kicked out he would have by now. Your verbal, angry tirades in his defense could only scare off so many. 
But as terrible as his own discomfort was, it was nothing in the face of how often you were being fawned over. What was it about you that seemed to drive everyone mad? Yes you were objectively attractive, but this was frankly getting out of hand. First there was the green skinned druid doing something sensual to your mind, then there were the general stares and whispers as you walked by, and now a pair of gorgeous drow twins trying and failing to proposition you. 
It was getting tiresome. There were only so many times a man could take his lover being offered “free” services before he snapped. 
On one hand, he could respect the dedication they had to the craft. He could be considered something of a hired whore himself in his time, the old, “the first one’s free” was a tried and true trick. And he also knew, vaguely, that no one was actually trying to steal you from him. But on the other, he couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to claw their eyes out for looking at you so brazenly.
He hadn’t expected the eyes of the woman to wander over to him, like she was just noticing the possessive arm he had wrapped around your waist, “Is that your partner with you? How would you both feel about having a little fun?”
Absolutely fucking not. Maybe the old Astarion would have smiled and nodded, ready to do whatever was asked of him. But the man from that wretched era had died, or at the very least was dying. And he would be damned if he let you lay with another, never less participate in it. 
Astarion interrupted your overly-polite attempts stuttering of a refusal. He glared at them both, a sneer painted on his face, “We’ll be passing on that. You’d think the first no would have sufficed, but I suppose it’s not fair to expect everyone to have basic language comprehension. Now as illuminating as this conversation has been, we have places to be. Excuse us.”
Then he was pulling you away, happy to ignore the offended huffs of indignation he had left in his wake. 
“We’re supposed to be investigating, remember?” You said with a giggle, not even questioning him as he dragged you to the second floor, “Being rude is not the way we’ll find travel to the hells.”
“I highly doubt they would have been of use,” Astarion said as he pushed you into the first empty room he could find. He felt off, maybe even a little crazed as he turned to you, “Tell me darling, what is it about you that makes you so irresistible, hm?”
He crowded you against the closed door, ducking his head into the crook of your neck to breath you in. You smelled heavenly, you always did. He could trace the barest whiff of your blood from beneath your skin, always calling to him. You were the sweetest thing he ever tasted. Delicious even, for more reasons than one. 
“T-They just wanted my coin,” You gasped when he started to suck bruises into your skin, “That’s all.”
“I think they wanted a bit more than that,” Astarion bit out as he shoved his thigh between your legs, “What will it take for others to realize you’re mine.”
His hands were wandering, resting low to grip your hips. He was using them to move you, forcing you to grind against his thigh. You grasped at his shoulders, trying to bite back a moan as you stared at him with wide eyes, “You want to do it here? Does that door even lock?”
It looked like it didn’t, not that Astarion cared. Maybe walking in on him ravishing you would finally start getting the point across of who you belonged to. Astarion shrugged, "There are less appropriate venues than literal whore houses."
“But-”
“But I can tell you want it,” Astarion interrupted with a smirk, his hands barely working to move your body anymore. But that wasn’t stopping you from rubbing yourself all over him, “Just look at you darling. Desperate little thing. But if you really don’t want to…”
Astarion made a lazy attempt to step back, laughing out loud when your desperately pulled him back, your desire finally winning out over your common sense. But you were glaring at him, obviously annoyed that he was so good at riling you up. He had seen that look before, the one that just screamed that you were scheming something. 
He just hadn’t expected you to drop to your knees in front of him, huffing as you started to undo the fastenings to his pants, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit of a shit?”
“Maybe,” Astarion said with a strained laugh, his breath catching when you pulled his half-hard cock out, “But it seems to keep getting me the things I want.”
You rolled your eyes before licking a wide strip up his cock, like you weren’t directly proving his point. You looked amazing own there, you’re half-hearted glare morphing into a blissful haze. 
Gods, how were you real? Astarion wasn’t quite sure why you were such a fan of getting him down your throat, but he knew that he was a lucky bastard for it. 
“Sweet girl,” Astarion sighed, letting a hand drift down to tangle in your hair, “Sweet girl with a perfect mouth. And you’re all mine, aren’t you?”
You made a small, affirmative noise around his cock, taking him in deeper as you clutched at his thighs. You were so good at this, so well-trained after months of being together. He loved the soft, wet sounds that would escape your lips as you swallowed him down, the pretty way your eyes would water as you encouraged him to fuck your throat, how you would squirm in place on your knees, no doubt ruining your panties with how wet you were getting. 
And no one else would ever know. No one would get to see you like this again, feel you like this. Needy, desperate, and his. Oddly enough, that thought was what sent him over the edge. He came down your throat, groaning as you eagerly swallowed around him. 
You pulled off of him slowly, panting while you smiled up at him. There was the smallest string of spit mixed with his come, connecting from the head of his cock to your lips. You licked it up, still clinging to his thighs as you hazily stared up at him. Sweet enough to make his heart skip a beat, and his dick give a valiant twitch.
He pulled you to your feet, not wasting any time in smashing your lips together. He spun you around, pushing you towards what he prayed was a clean bed. 
He pushed you back onto the sheets, making quick work of tearing your pants down your legs as he grinned down at you, “Your turn.”
He kneeled in front of you; spreading his hands over your splayed thighs to peel off your underwear. The core of you was already glistening, slick enough to make Astarion’s mouth water. He licked his lips as he spread your legs further apart, shameless as he feasted on you with his eyes. 
You were shaking in his hold, biting your bottom lip when you whined, “Stop staring already…”
“But you’re so pretty here my sweet,” Astarion cooed, tracing a single finger over the seam of your cunt, “And you’re dripping. Poor thing, have I kept you waiting too long?”
You nodded excitedly above him, your hips bucking when he let his fingers dip in further between your pussy lips. He lightly traced your clit, softly laughing at the way the simple touch made you whine.
It was his own fault that you were so needy, a fact that brought a smirk to his lips. You always got so wet after you had him down your throat, soaked and gorgeous. 
Astarion dove right in, loudly moaning as he licked into your folds. He dragged his lips upward to suckle on your clit, basking in all the cries and whimpers escaping you.
He licked back down, teasing your hole with his tongue as your legs quivered around his head. He let the sharpness of his fangs scrape against you as he started to fuck you with his tongue, threatening your most intimate places.
He knew you liked that; little minx that you were. The slight risk of pain that was always looming. It made him want to sink his fangs in you for real, a hunger that he'd sate after he had you gushing into his mouth.
You were already close, he could tell from the way your cunt was tightening around his tongue; too worked up from the thrill of being in public and the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Astarion trailed talented fingers up to rub against your clit, his tongue still curling inside of you as you cried out. Finally falling over the edge. But that wasn't stopping him from continuing to play with you.
You had to tug on Astarion’s hair for him to finally pull away, too over sensitive to handle his talented tongue. You were still trembling by the time he leaned back, licking his lips. He rested his head on your thigh, obviously pleased with himself as he grinned up at you. He could feel your heart racing against his cheek, the sound of your blood pumping singing through your veins. It had his mouth watering for a completely different reason. 
He let his fangs drag against the delicate skin of your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes, "Can I?"
A superfluous question. Not when he already knew the answer before it escaped your lips.
“Y-yeah," You mumbled, lovingly gazing down at him. He would never tire of seeing that look on your face, "But be gentle? Please?” 
"Of course my love," Astarion murmured, before promptly sinking his fangs into your flesh. He had to hold you down from the way you were still trembling, your quivering only getting worse at the pleasure mixed with pain. He didn’t let himself go rabid, just enough to get a taste. He was pulling back too soon, smiling to himself at the little whine you let out. He gently licked over the wound before standing, not yet swallowing the last drops on his tongue.
Instead he leaned forward to kiss you, more than happy to share the sweet taste of your blood as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Thank you my dear,” Astarion sighed as he pulled away, “That was exactly what I needed. Now I think that’s enough investigating for one day.” 
You sighed, taking the time to card your fingers through his hair, “Agreed. Though you might have to carry me out of here now.”
Wasn’t that a wonderful idea?
Astarion hummed as he pulled your clothing back on, “I think I like the sound of that," He didn't give you time to respond, too busy sweeping you up in his arms with a grin, "I'll be taking you up on that."
You squeaked when he hefted you up, bridal style, “I wasn’t being serious!”
But it was too late, Astarion was already kicking the door open. He shrugged at you, completely shameless as he winked at a few onlookers, "Then you shouldn't have suggested it."
You groaned, hiding your face in his shirt as he happily took you outside, “I’m going to get you back for this. I hope you know that.”
Astarion laughed as he kissed the top of your head, “I’m sure you will.”
It was a childish stunt, borderline on par with a jealous tantrum, but gods, did it feel good. Good enough to sate Astarion's obsessive tendencies for an impressive amount of time. Under normal circumstances. 
But what about your lives were normal?
3K notes · View notes
igotanidea · 1 month
Text
Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
Tumblr media
A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)
part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
***
One year ago
„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”
“What irrational thoughts?”
“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”
“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—
“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”
“But-“
“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”
“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”
“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”
“There is no possibility that I-“
“Hush!”
“Mother I –“
“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.
“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”
“I will not!”
“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”
“Commitments!?”
“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”
“Mother!”
“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”
***
The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.
It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.
However-
Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.
Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.
Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.
Getting burned with the tea in response.
Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.
For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.
Next few visits were no better.
Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.
“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”
She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.
“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”
“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”
“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”
“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”
“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.
“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”
“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.
“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”
“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”
“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.
“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”
“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”
“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”
***
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.
Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 
Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.
This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.
It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.
After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.
***
Now.
“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”
Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.
“What is so funny?”
“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”
“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Seem like you do after all.”
“Y/N…”
“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.
“Y/N…”
“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”
“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.
At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.
Being called too much, constantly.
Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.
And then meeting Anthony.
And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.
But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.
Too much.
Not enough.
And it made her angry.
“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”
“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.
“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.
“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.
 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”
And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.
Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.
Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall
739 notes · View notes
blushweddinggowns · 1 year
Text
It was kinda like an open secret, the fact that they were together. And if Steve was being honest with himself, even that was a stretch.
And it was one hundred percent their fault. Well...mostly it was Eddie's fault. The second they were with whoever he deemed "safe" Eddie would be all over him. Whether it was pet names, casually wrapping an arm around his waist, dragging him to sit on his lap, a kiss to his forehead, Eddie was far from shy when it came to handing out affection.
And if Steve did absolutely nothing to stop him when it happened well...that was Eddie's fault too. What else was Steve supposed to do when the man he loved was so openly sweet and affectionate? Say no? Put a stop to the behavior that made him feel like he was the most important person in Eddie's world? Give up the chaste hugs and kisses that made him feel like he was walking on air?
Yeah, no. It wasn't Steve's fault that Eddie made him feel so good, so the blame could stay laid at his feet.
Yep, totally Eddie's fault, Steve had nothing to do with it.
But there were only so many times you could call your new "best friend" baby before people started asking questions. Robin knew, Wayne knew, Nancy knew, and Steve was pretty sure all of Eddie’s age-appropriate friends were well aware.
And the kids would figure it out when they figured it out. It's not that they didn't trust them to accept their relationship, it was more that they would be too accepting. And way too involved. And Steve wanted to bask in the honeymoon period before all of his little shits started giving unprompted advice on his love life, and Eddie felt the same way.
So they lied, but only a little. Or more that Steve lied. Whenever it was a Steve and Eddie date night exclusive and the kids were vying for attention or rides, he'd tell them was hanging out with Robin or working late. But Eddie would just smile and shake his head to any asks, always with a painfully sincere, "Can't tonight, I got a date with my sweetheart."
His sweetheart who, none of the kids could meet until, in his words, he officially locked it down, the silly little speech never failing in making Steve blush and smile like an idiot. It was always enough to make the kids back off, and for the moment, their little plan seemed to be working.
But Steve wasn't sure how long it would stay that way, not when Eddie was very suddenly elected as the go-to for advice on the kids' love lives.
Which ow. Steve had experience with relationships, maybe not good experiences until very recently, but he had them! But the kids bypassed him every time in favor of the "one" adult in their lives who actually was seeing someone. And Steve didn't have the heart to break it to them that he was the only one their new love genius had ever been with.
Lucas had started it, faux casual at a Hellfire meetup, with Steve lazily reading magazines in the corner while he waited for his nerd boyfriend to be done so their night could actually begin.
"Hey Eddie, you've been seeing your girlfriend for a while right?"
Eddie nodded, "We're closing in at six months, why?"
Lucas rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, embarrassed, "Well...what would you do if say, you know they love you, and you love them, but they never let you help them with anything? Like...they always act like they're a burden when they're really just the best?"
Steve perked up at the question. silently watching as Eddie considered it.
He nodded along, thoughtful, “I was with someone like that once, always thinking about everyone else but never themselves. I guess you kinda just have to love it out of them y'know? Like give them the space they ask for sure, but let them know that you're always there for them. Not because you have to but because you want to.” 
Eddie took a chance and glanced at Steve while he spoke, giving him the quickest wink known to mankind. Steve hid behind his magazine, ears red with a stupid, lovestruck smile as Lucas thanked him.
Then it was Dustin. He sprung it on them while Steve was driving him over to the Wheeler's place, Eddie flipping through radio stations while Dustin was prattling to them in the backseat, "So I was trying to explain it to her, and she totally flipped out and hung up! She said that I think I'm smarter than her, which is totally untrue! Suzie is the smartest person I know!"
Steve snorted, "I told you you could be condescending-"
Dustin glared at him, waving him away, "I'm asking Eddie thank you very much! "I just thought she knew that I know she's smarter than me. So what should I do?"
Eddie shrugged, "I was with someone like that once, super, super smart but they could never acknowledge it in the way I thought they should. For them though, it was because people always talked down to them and never made the effort to see how they were smart. There are a lot of different kinds of intelligence out there right? So just let her know that there are some things you're better at but you know that for most things she's the gold star child."
Eddie glanced back at Dustin, rolling his eyes when he realized the kid was actually taking notes, but it gave him a chance to stealthily grab Steve's hand and squeeze it with a wide grin, "It isn't fair, but rarely does the smartest person in a room, know that it's them."
And if Steve couldn't help but kiss the daylights out of him while they were still in the Wheeler's driveway after that little speech, he stood that it was still Eddie's fault for being so sweet.
The kids kept coming to Eddie for advice, mostly because it usually worked. Some of it Steve was there for and some of it he wasn't, but it never stopped embarrassing the living hell out of him to hear himself be talked about so positively and sweetly, especially if it came out of the mouths of one of the kid's, unknowingly repeating stories and advice centered around Steve.
It was Will who finally cracked it, because who else? They were all at the Harrington place, taking full advantage of the absentee parents and pool during a hot summer day. Wil found the two of them in the kitchen, in the middle of a stupid debate over the best action movie of the year, sharing a popsicle back and forth while they play-fought.
He looked nervous as he walked up to them, looking anywhere but at their faces, "Hey Eddie, do you mind if I ask you something?"
Eddie nodded, snatching the last of the popsicle from Steve's hand, ignoring his whining, "Sure dude, what's up?"
"Have you ever, um, liked someone who you thought didn't like you back? But then they started...acting different?"
Eddie cocked his head at him, "Elaborate."
"Like...just treating you differently. More touchy-feely and attentive maybe? Do you think...that means anything? Has that ever happened to you?"
Steve glanced out the kitchen window, eyes on Mike as he sat at the edge of the pool, legs dangling over the side while his head was on a swivel, no doubt looking for Will.
It didn't take a genius to guess who he was talking about.
Eddie shrugged, "Not exactly? But I have gone after someone majorly out of my league before. And that worked out. I'd say just be straight forward and confident. Ask if they're interested, or if you can't do that ask them how'd they feel if you got with someone else. That can sometimes get the ball rolling if they're being too tight-lipped about their feelings."
Will nodded along, "So is that how you got Steve?"
Steve froze while Eddie laughed, not even catching on to the slip, "I got Steve by crying to his loose-lipped best friend about how in love with him I was. Not the best example."
And of course, that was the moment Dustin decided to walk in the room.
Steve brought a hand to his mouth, laughing behind it as Dustin froze, staring wide-eyed at Eddie, "You're with Steve?!"
Eddie whipped around to face him, but Dustin was already staring at Steve, "So the someone like that, has been you this whole time?!"
Steve was still laughing behind his hand as Dustin skittered out, no doubt to announce to the whole backyard just where their great love advice had been coming from.
Will followed him, winking at them over his shoulder as he went. Eddie was still standing there, confused on how one of the munchkins just bamboozled him into telling the longest kept secret he ever had.
Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder, just as voices started to raise from the background, coupled with a few yells around someone owing Will money, "Guess the secret's out huh?"
Eddie turned to face him with a sigh, smacking a kiss to his forehead, "You realize this means you're going to have to help with the love advice now right?"
Steve groaned, "I thought my existence was the help."
"Nope, it's your turn to give the love advice about me from now on."
Steve laughed, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the mouth. They grinned at each other, enjoying their last moments of peace before the whole gaggle of kids made they're way into the room, armed with questions and accusations galore.
But that was okay, Steve was more than ready for it to be his turn.
4K notes · View notes
neocitycafe · 2 months
Text
Home After the Holidays (Mark)
Tumblr media
♡ genre: hot cocoa - fluff, sweet and steamy hehe; a bit smutty with too many thoughts; i guess "new year’s time pensive cheese" is a theme for me (here’s haechan’s version from last year) ✎ words: 2.1k ✓ summary/notes: busy idol husband Mark finally returns home :’) and you’ve missed each other. a trope that i love lots. @d-nghy-ck to bronwyn, here’s a slice of pensive cheese(cake), especially for you! this cafe would probably not be here if not for this first customer who came by and said hi! wishing you all the love in the world~
──────── °∘❉∘° ────────
It’s that awkward time in late January when you’re not sure whether it’s still socially appropriate to include “Happy New Year” in your greetings. Mark had told you not to come to the airport. The weather was frigid all week and it’d be way past midnight by the time he got out of customs, and then there was the long cab ride home.
But he missed you. 
Closing the front door gently, he looks down to find his old lace-ups where he usually left them, as if he were home this whole time. Your favorite pair is set neatly next to his, and a smaller set of shoes next to those. Ones with velcro and lights that he bought a couple months back, but it felt much longer ago so quickly. You’d replaced the original laces with neon green ones, and all of Mark’s teammates cooed at how cute that was. 
The lights are dimmed and Mark finds you on the couch in a pile of blankets, where you cozied up while waiting. His heart suddenly aches thinking of you with only a little cup of chamomile tea to warm yourself and get to bed. 
He had been so busy working lately, loving what he did, creating music, making crazy new connections, show after show, press conferences, collaborations. Had he done anything for you lately? His mind races.
From where you’d dozed off, you find Mark frozen by the door. After years of knowing him, you could see his raised brows and the running thoughts behind them. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes shifting to the side meant self-doubt. You want to erase those worries and pour love into all the spaces where he thought he was not enough. 
“I wanted to get you flowers.” His voice cracks and you get up to close the distance between you.
“Oh Mark... I have you now.” The cold from outside has clung on to his coat, but you ignore it and wrap your arms around him more tightly. “It’s the middle of the night, silly. I don’t need flowers.”
You feel him shake his head against you, “And I wanted to be home for the holidays,” he says with a bit of a whine. 
“You’re here now.”
Looking into his eyes, you brush the hair away from his forehead and peck him on the nose. The end of the year meant holiday tour stops, special shows, concerts, and awards nights. The holidays meant the opposite of holidays for entertainers like Mark. It meant he couldn’t really be with family until afterwards. He follows you into the kitchen where you set your mug in the sink. 
“Did you miss me?” You turn when he wraps his arms around you from behind. 
You’re momentarily caught off guard by his boyish smile and a pang of longing wells up, an emptiness in your chest that had been there behind your smiles when he had video called. The answer is a thousand times yes, but you bite back the truth in favor of not worrying him. You shake your head playfully. “I don’t have to. I get to see your features in our son’s face every day.”
Mark breaks into a grin that you can’t help but match. “Is he asleep?”
“Yeah, but he sure begged to stay up! He can be a little headstrong sometimes. Like someone.” You give Mark a long look and he pouts in response. “But he finally fell asleep a couple of hours ago.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being my home.”
“You’re sappy, Mark Lee.” Nonetheless, you’re more than willing when he tilts your head for a deeper kiss. He runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them to let him taste you. A familiar heat stirs in your belly, and you reach your hands up to tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. He groans into your mouth and presses you back into the kitchen counter. From this position, he places pressure where your bodies are connected, where you want it. He rocks against you once, twice, slowly, fluidly, and you pull him even closer. 
Mark’s hands knock into the stacked pots and pans behind you on the drying rack, and you’re grateful for your husband’s quick reflexes. He steadies a pan, preventing what would’ve been a huge clatter. You both freeze for a moment. 
“Easy, tiger,” you tease while throwing him a wink. “Or baby lion or cheetah or whatever small big cat you are.” 
He responds with a playful growl that is both adorable and sexy, his nose scrunching up. 
A delicious thrill runs through you as his gaze locks on you again. Knocking your legs apart and then lifting you onto the counter, Mark reminds you of how he wanted you everywhere when you were newlyweds. A tender bite between your neck and shoulder reminds you of how he wants you now. You make a mental note to call Jaemin for some babysitting this coming weekend, because you wouldn’t mind some more alone time like this. 
You tug on Mark’s hand and he knows what you mean. You slip off the counter and try not to trip over each other as you eagerly make your way to the bedroom. It’s a familiar but exhilarating path, like a choreography that your bodies move to automatically once the music starts playing.
When he finds a towel already laid out on the bed, he raises a seagull of a brow, and you can’t help but laugh. He teases, “Oooh, so you were prepared!”
You lean in to whisper in his ear, feeling cheeky and bold, “Well, my husband gets messy.”
The look in his eyes and how he kisses you next is the response you were hoping for. When you fall back into bed, it’s easy and slow. You take your time wriggling out of your clothes, and you laugh at his cute shimmy while pulling his jeans off. The both of you sigh in content when his body is above yours, skin to skin. 
Mark’s fingertips trail patterns along your sides, his left hand’s calluses from guitar playing are a little rough, but soothingly so. You map out the constellation connecting the mole on his neck, on his cheek, the tiny one on the corner of his mouth. He spends his time with his lips on your neck where you crave them, wet kisses with a slight bite that have you feeling hot all over and in want, and then you’re grateful they’re chasing paths over the crests and valleys of your body. 
Mark travels down until his face is settled between your thighs, his warm breath causing you to shiver in anticipation. He takes your hand and kisses your wrist, your palm, your fingertips, slowly and thoughtfully. He moves to do the same with your other hand. The love in his gaze staring up at you is too much for you to handle, so you close your eyes and lay your head back. And then he’s lacing your fingers together, holding your hands as his perfect mouth dives in eagerly. 
Mark isn’t shy about playing with your wetness and giving you what you crave. He laps at you with the intent of pushing you to the edge, like there’s nothing else he wants but for you to feel good, and you can’t help but arch up towards him. 
When he tires, he keeps stroking your clit with his fingers, keeping the contact consistent and insistent, and then switches back to working you with his tongue. He keeps going even when you cry out his name, your thighs close around his head, and your hips lift off the mattress as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure.  
When he comes back up to face you, he’s surprised to find the tears falling down your cheeks and into your hair. You don’t notice it yourself until he starts worrying. 
“You okay? Did I hurt you?” 
You shake your head. “No, that was amazing.”
He rolls to his side and pulls you into his chest carefully. His eyes search your face.
The words are tumbling out before you can stop them: “I missed you. Mark… I missed you.”
You finally let yourself go.
Going to your son’s first winter concert at his school alone. You’d even saved a seat for Mark, but his filming schedule got delayed that evening. Opening holiday presents with Mark’s parents at their home, without him there. Counting down to the new year by yourself while his team celebrated their album of the year win. How you never wanted to burden him. How you understood his career and wanted to be his steady support, and yet... “I missed you so much.”
“You know you can tell me that. I’m not afraid of how you feel.” He pauses to dry your tears with gentle hands and a kiss on your cheek. “I want to know. I want to love you better.” He holds you tighter, as if capturing every bit of the emotion pouring out of you. It’s like Mark knew the exact words you needed to hear. While being laid bare and vulnerable, you feel safe and known, and now, ever grateful that your relationship is one you are both committed to growing and working out together. “Let’s talk more in the morning after some rest, yeah?”
“Thank you, Mark.” You gaze up into his shining eyes. 
“For what?”
“For being home.”
“Look who’s being cheesy now,” he teases back. 
You tug on him beneath the covers in response and Mark lets out a surprised moan. 
“Mmm, in the morning’s okay too… ah, babe. I mean, do you still want to make love now?”
You nod against his chest and laugh at his insistence on calling it lovemaking rather than sex or anything else. “Do you?”
He nods too and the boyish grin you love so much is back. You push at his shoulders and move so you’re seated above him, your thighs settled over his.
I love you, I love you, I love you. He seems to say, and you feel it in your soul. 
When you sink down onto him, you fill his presence with your closeness, as he fills yours with his. And it’s like the time and space between you disappears. All you hear is Mark, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he loses himself in loving you, and you him. He aids with your rhythm with his hands holding your hips, and then makes the switch so you’re under him. 
There’s the softness of the sheets, his lips, your fingertips, the moonlight shining in, the sound of rustling and sighs pulled from deep within. The flush of his cheeks, your parted lips, the thrum of beating hearts, and later, the patterns slowing steadily into dreams together.
──────── °∘❉∘° ────────
You’re gladly surprised by the warmth in your bed when you wake up in the morning. Mark kicked off his side of the covers in the middle of the night as usual, leaving a mountain of blankets on top of you, so you pull them up to cover his bare chest. You probably should have showered after last night, but it was too comfortable being cuddled up. Mark’s discarded shirt is closest, so you pull it on, mind reveling in everything for a moment: his scent, his return, his closeness, your shared love. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open. Little hands, messy morning bed head, and eyes shining as they peer in. (You’d have to remind your son about knocking on the door again.)
He’s quick to spot the lump next to you under the blankets. “Dada!”
You smile and hold a finger to your lips. 
“Mm-hmm, yes dear, come here.” You sit up better and he clambers into your lap. “Shhh. He’s sleeping.”
His eyes are wide and he whispers rather loudly, “He’s snoring.” You cast a wistful gaze over the relaxed expression on Mark’s face, not knowing when the last time it was that he slept well. 
“Let’s let him sleep more.” You ready yourself to sneak out of bed. Your son was really getting too heavy to carry. He’s squirmy and ticklish, and of course he starts giggling almost immediately when you try to lift him, the sound bubbling out uncontrollably. Someone else you knew laughed just like that. You’re trying to get up quickly when you feel Mark’s arms wrap around you from behind. 
“Come back....”
The way he holds you tickles, and the added weight of your son makes you lose balance, so you fall back onto Mark’s chest, effectively making your family a little sandwich. Mark lets out a small grunt from the weight but he doesn’t really mind. His heart is as light as can be. His eyes are bright and his smile mischievous. He wriggles around and declares, “Love attack!!!”
There are lots of kisses and shared silliness, and you laugh until there are tears in the corners of your eyes, little crystals breathlessly kissed away too in the moment. 
"And at last, I open my arms wide again to give you warmth. I'll do anything to make it right. Those stars are shining on us. I'll cherish this moment, all of it, my baby. I’m gonna love you… Love doesn't come easy, girl, but loving you is easy.  Every day without you feels hollow. Because our memories refine even our imperfect moments into treasured times, I reflect, calling love a beauty."
578 notes · View notes
miniaturestitches · 8 months
Text
Yesterday I learned a lesson.
Although the blanket had been ready for a couple of months now, I was only able to gift it yesterday to my pregnant friend.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
A few days prior, I was hesitant about giving a hand-made gift.
What if it was not appropriate? What if it was too much? What if she dislikes the color or the pattern? What if she already has too many blankets? What if it ends up fraying or pilling quickly? What if the fibers trigger some weird allergies? What if it sends the wrong message?
So many what-ifs...Some of them ridiculous, I know. I was seriously contemplating only gifting the special lactation cookies she loved. In the end, since the blanket was taking up storage space and I didn't want to waste my efforts, I wrapped it up and gifted it.
My friend loved it. She even messaged me later that evening to personally let me know how touched she was that I hand-knitted a blanket for her baby. She told me that she will treasure that blanket.
I gave an unevenly-stitched fragile blanket, and instead, my friend received a thoughtful loved-filled gift.
Sometimes we need another set of eyes to remind us of the beauty in what we do.
Sure, my stitches would never be as even as a machine's. But every stitch is accompanied by love, prayers and best wishes for her baby. A machine could have easily produced the same-sized blanket in a matter of minutes. Still, each moment working on that blanket was meaningfully spent for someone special. I didn't just create an item. It was a lovingly crafted message of love from me to a dear friend.
We crafters are often our own worst critics. Sometimes we become too obsessed with perfection that it hinders us from communicating our love.
Perhaps next time, rather than focus on the little imperfections, I should step back and see the whole of what I created.
574 notes · View notes
voredere · 2 months
Text
Did you know:
-agab is decided arbitrarily, sometimes by a doctor, and sometimes by the parents, based primarily on their best guess as to which gender will work out best or which surgery has the "best" prognosis.
-agab is not necessarily determined by the baby's genital configuration, hormone profile, or genetics. it is literally just whatever the doctor and/or parents thought sounded good at the time.
-sometimes agab is reassigned equally arbitrarily due to childhood genital injury.
-some people do not have an AGAB
-some intersex people used agab colloquially to refer to whichever sex they personally consider their "birth sex" regardless of their actual AGAB.
-some peoples agab does not actually align with what they, or society, would view as their "biological sex"
-(this is because "biological sex" as a concept is pretty bullshit to be clear)
-some people do not discover that their sex was reassigned at birth until adulthood
when we discuss concepts like TME/TMA, we need to keep these things in mind. TME/TMA are great terms because they're explicitly inclusive of intersex individuals. but there's an alarming amount of people misconstruing the words, using them as synonyms for AFAB/AMAB, or defining them based on AGAB, which accomplishes very little beyond shutting intersex people out of a conversation that very much includes and impacts us.
i understand TME intersex people absolutely exist, and absolutely are capable of perpetuating transmisogyny, but there are also intersex TMA people out there and we are constantly, CONSTANTLY shut out of conversations and viewed as invaders by the trans community, by the queer community at large, with our struggles viewed as collateral damage of someone else's struggle that we, without exception, are never allowed to claim.
we are viewed as filthy, alien creatures by everyone we meet, even in "queer leftist" spaces. our bodies are fetishised and commodified, and there are dozens of wild assumptions about us. we are never real men or women or even people, just some third category good for porn or shock value to be rejected and disposed of and speculated about like we aren't there everywhere else. we are relegated to sex work and freak shows. and yes, we are excluded from sports, locker rooms, restrooms, "lesbian"/"womens" spaces, queer spaces at large, housing, employment, medical care, and so on.
some of identify as cis, but a lot of us never had the option to be cis. many of us are essentially assigned tranny at birth and that was the end of it. many of us were called slurs before we were old enough to know what they meant.
we are not collateral damage. we are not invaders. we are not appropriators. we are part of your stuggle, we are your siblings, and if we don't stand up for each other, trust me: no one else will.
209 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Text
Clown teacher reader-
-
So many flowers today! ♡
For your first teaching gig, things were going along swell so far. Your students were just the sweetest and with the greenlight of your superiors you were allowed to let your creative voice shine within the space of your classroom. You couldn't forget the kindest of your fellows teachers either. Arriving early to prepare for the day, you enter your assigned room to find your desk and every table topped with a bouquet of white roses. Their cream color worked well with your choice of colorblock decor. Like little clouds at the end of a rainbow. Shame about the window being left open, though.
You've gotten gifts before, but this was definitely a new record. You gather them all up and place them on your desk, curious as to what you should do. Stray petals and leaves litter the floor like a twister gone through a flower shop and as beautiful as they were, they could be a distraction for some. What to do.... Warm, fluorescent light bleeds through a petal you pluck from your sleeve, dying it a soft yellow. So pretty - if only you could capture it somehow. Didn't the teacher next door mention food coloring in their supplies the other day?
"Helloo?"
Right on time. Marking their page with the bookmark you gave them, your neighboring teacher motions you to enter their room. Their eye meet yours from the blinds you poked your head through, lips forced into a business appropriate smile. You grin like you're meeting with your closest friend after a heartfelt goodbye. It's little things in life that make people go crazy.
"Goodmorning, Y/n. Is there something I can do for you?"
Your bold stride takes a tumble as you reach their desk. "Yes, actually. Wasn't trying to be nosy, but I noticed you had some food dye and I was given some flowers today so I thought it would be a nice experiment to do to begin the day."
"That's a wonderful idea. That was a little mix up at the store, so you can take it all. Would you like help setting up?"
"Sure!"
With their help, and scissors, you trim enough roses for your class. They did majority of the work for you and finished sooner than you would've by a long shot. How they were so skilled while looming over your shoulder was a mystery to you. They tuck the last rose behind your ear, smile as genuine as yours before.
The classroom door opens.
"Oh! Look at the time! Thank you so much for your help." Throwing your arms around them in the quickest display of your gratitude, you release them just as easily and scoop up a pile of roses as you rush to the door. They almost didn't let you go.
"Goodmorning everyone! Please take one and head to your seat."
But watching you from afar was almost as sweet.
428 notes · View notes
jokeroutsubs · 6 months
Text
An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan in Jana magazine, published 10.10.2023. Featuring a very special shoutout! 😁
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
On the couch with Joker Out: about the big changes in their lives
Still good, sober boys
We’ll play this and then we’re off – to switch off
The time we have with them is tightly limited, but that’s appropriate for stars of their kind. They are the most popular musical group right now, and they’ve thoroughly conquered many hearts far beyond both Slovenian and Balkan borders. At sold-out concerts, Finns are swooning because of them, Poles, Serbians, Croatians and Spaniards are fainting, not to mention the girls back home. No one prepared them for this kind of craze, but they’re holding up pretty well – they’re still humble guys with good manners, which can (also) be seen in their polite greeting and relaxed chatting in front of their rehearsal space, a comfortable hideaway somewhere between Ljubljana’s warehouses with an unappealing blue door.
Floating into their sanctuary, you almost hit your head on a collection of hanging bras with various affectionate messages written on them. A few more steps, and we plop down on the couch with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Nace Jordan. Jan Peteh and Kris Guštin (damn, he’s tall!) are busy with another camera, and Jure Maček is nowhere to be seen.
How’s your health doing with your (as it seems if you look at the crazy number of concerts all around Europe) pretty exhausting life? How do you take care of your physical fitness?
Bojan: By working out.
Nace: Well, you and I work out, the others only do it a little.
Bojan: Well yeah, she asked us.
Nace: So: we work out a lot, we play badminton, I run, we go to the gym and hike, Bojan also does mixed martial arts.
You’ve found yourselves at a turbulent stage in your career, and like you’ve said before, you cannot be fully prepared for that. What about mental preparation? Do you have to pay extra attention to that or do anything you've never done before?
Bojan: Yes, we have to rest. We haven't had any rest ever since everything became much more intense. My mind and body are now really begging to switch off.
Nace: I agree. Just the other day, we were talking about how we haven’t truly rested since the pre-Eurovision performances. Two- and three-day trips don’t count.
So you’ll only be able to turn off for a bit, after your big concert in Stožice?
Bojan: That’s right. Well, we maybe planned our break a little poorly, because we’re going on a holiday together. (both start laughing loudly)
Nace: Everyone has the same stunned reaction that you did.
You really have to love each other and have a good time together, that’s all I thought. Can you reveal where you’re going?
Bojan: Far away, somewhere warm. As to whether us going together is smart, we’ll tell you when we come back. If we end up needing another holiday after this holiday, then we didn’t make a very wise decision.
Since you really hang out with each other so much, do you perhaps understand any better why some bands get into fatal quarrels or even break up?
Bojan: We definitely understand it a lot more. In a short time, I’ve realised that this rock and roll lifestyle presented to us by rock legends (myths, stories, Hollywood) is truly something that is untenable in the long term. If we look at all the most famous bands, they actually existed for a very short time.
Nace: And, as an interesting fact, most of them broke up while on tour.
Bojan: You can’t do rock and roll and be devoted to your music, concerts, travels, if you’re constantly under the influence of any substances (drugs, alcohol). You really can’t do that, because neither the human body nor the mind are made to withstand this kind of strain, sleeplessness, pleasure, dopamine. All those legends either died young or the bands broke up. Sure, they did a lot, left a permanent mark, but at what cost? We’ve realised that if we want to enjoy what we’re doing, we have to be sober, and you truly enjoy yourself a lot more if you’re sober and feel physically and mentally ready and cultivate friendships. I think that this way, we’ll remember a lot more after a few tours than many rock legends do in their longer careers. How much can you even remember if your brain isn’t even with you on the same stage?
I see that you’re drinking plenty of water, and we remember you, Bojan, from Eurovision, when you were walking around with a bottle of water and blowing into a straw. What was that for?
Bojan: It’s a technique to warm up your vocal chords, based on the principle of blowing into a slightly wider silicone straw in a water bottle. You blow into it, in the correct way and because of the water in the bottle, a negative pressure is created that puts your vocal chords into the most natural position and it works like a massage for them.
Did you discover this for yourself or was it recommended to you?
Bojan: I had never paid special attention to my voice before that, I’m not a trained vocalist, but luckily I naturally developed the correct technique. Otherwise I would’ve lost my voice long ago. So, on the stage, this mechanism luckily developed in a very positive direction for me, which was also confirmed by singing coaches and the doctor I went to for my vocal chords check-up. A phoniatrics specialist, a wonderful guy, helped me during Eurovision. Before the Eurovision performance, my voice gave in a little due to nerves, so I was constantly in contact with a doctor – and we didn’t even really know each other – who gave me advice over the phone. Then, at the first sound check, everything opened up and sounded like it should. It’s really interesting what happens with your voice, it gets incredibly affected by your mental state. Your vocal chords can be perfectly fine, but if your mind is not in the right place, your voice won’t work either.
I also went to get advice from singing coach Nataša Nahtigal, who really helped me a lot. I especially needed that preparation from a psychological point of view.
Did the other band members also need coaches for anything?
Nace: Me and Kris also visited Nataša, because at the beginning we thought that we’d be singing the backing vocals live on the Eurovision stage. So we also practised with her a few times. We also had rehearsals with a choreographer for the optimum stage performance.
We’re having this conversation five days before your biggest concert yet, in Stožice. Does that require any special preparation?
Bojan: It’s a special concert, because it’s the first time we’re encountering the organisation of something this big; it is, after all, the only arena in the country. It’s a lot for us, Magnifico also told us that he was kind of in the dark the first time, but now they’re acclimatised to it. It’s a different type of preparation: we have to prepare the show, the lights, the stage appearance …
Have you even internalised what you’ve managed to do, all the places and the number of people you’ve played to in the past few months (from Ireland to Great Britain, Finland, Norway, Belgrade, Zagreb, Vienna, and now in December, you've got Amsterdam, Madrid, Barcelona …)?
Bojan: I think that will be a task for the upcoming holiday. When things just keep happening, you’re in this cycle and don’t even really differentiate between one peak and another, so we need to come down a bit to start retroactively comprehending what really happened. Because it’s really wonderful. We were in cities and countries we’d never been to, and then we were there – to play our own sold-out concerts. We absolutely never thought anything like that would ever happen to us.
Nace: Often it’s only when I come home from this kind of tour that I think to myself: wow, look at where we were! We’re playing on a stage where world legends had played before us! Now, in the club in Helsinki, Foo Fighters and AC/DC had played there, among others. Any musician would wish to play there, let alone sell out that concert.
When you walk around these European cities where you have sold out your concerts, do people already recognise you on the street?
Bojan: It’s pretty bizarre, but now they’ve really started to. I think that on this Nordic tour there truly wasn’t any place we went to without at least someone recognising us – either on a train, on the street, in a restaurant, at the airport. Foreign fan culture is a little different, as they get prepared to meet us, in a way – for example, they know when we’ll be at the airport, and they wait for us with gifts, they don’t just come to take photos with us. They bring along our merch shirts, various things for us to sign, they give us gifts. Fans make a lot of things on their own – bracelets, dolls, there are a lot of drawings, crafts; I have two knitted Joker Out scarves at home.
Nace: In Finland we got a lot of knitted socks, hats …
Hand-knitted socks?
Bojan: Yes, with a Slovenian and Finnish flag, for example.
The Scandinavian youth are clearly well-versed in that.
Bojan: Let’s go, Slovenian youth, start knitting Joker Out stuff too! (laughter)
And what is it like to walk down the streets of Slovenia? Can you go to the store in peace?
Bojan: It’s nice to walk down the streets of Slovenia, but we truly always get recognised, that’s a fact, it’s not as inconvenient in stores as it can be when you’re out for drinks, when you constantly feel like someone is eavesdropping next to you.
How difficult is the rockstar life?
Bojan: It’s really nice – every time we’re on the stage, the audience rewards us with a really nice energy, you can’t compare that to anything else, but like any profession, ours has negative sides as well, with the biggest difference being that you’re constantly in the public eye. Very few things are truly personal – you also have a hard time judging for yourself what’s private and what’s not. It’s more of a mental game with yourself – that’s the hardest part of it all. As well as not sleeping, because you travel a lot.
Are there any big disappointments or unexpected things – perhaps that some fans get “carried away” or that not everyone is as well-intentioned as you thought?
Bojan: Absolutely! You suddenly find yourself not only belonging to a home crowd, but also becoming an internet hashtag. The internet has no limits, people have no reservations there, they hide behind a nickname. Each of us has definitely had a few of these moments that shocked us, that’s why we’ve started to pull back from social media.
That’s probably pretty tricky: for the sake of advertising and contact with fans, you have to be present on social media, but meanwhile you’re aware that you need to take a step back for the sake of your health. How do you stay on the safe side? What’s your strategy?
Nace: Primarily, we’ve all stopped reading Twitter, the comments … We have to maintain a certain distance.
Bojan: To be completely honest, I’d like to find someone who could handle my personal profile on social media. It also bothers me that you really waste a lot of time on social media and subconsciously create a lot of unrealistic expectations, because you’re constantly swiping through people’s perfect lives, faces and situations, it’s all quite absurd.
Do you want to influence teenagers in this area, to pass any important messages on to them?
Bojan: Yes, find some wonderful analogue way to follow us and delete your social media.
So, knit a Joker Out scarf or socks instead and listen to their music – that’s pretty analogue. Then, you can also do a charity auction of your fans’ knitwear.
Bojan: Exactly!
One small revolutionary move would also be if concerts or gigs at various parties started earlier. Us slightly more mature citizens also like to go to concerts, but we also like to go to bed a little earlier.
Bojan: I can say that after our Stožice concert, people will be able to be asleep by midnight. But actually, when we were abroad, we got used to gigs starting very soon – sometime between seven and nine in the evening – and the party is definitely not any worse because of that.
You say that you’re full of creative energy. Does your creative process continue under the covers too, do you have notebooks on your nightstand?
Bojan: All the ideas come to me just before I go to sleep. The most recent song Sunny Side of London also happened on the last day before we went to the studio – I couldn’t sleep and I came up with those base lyrics while in bed.
Even though your latest song is in English, due to most of your songs being in Slovenian, you’ve unintentionally become ambassadors of the Slovenian language as well.
Bojan: It was never our goal to become ambassadors of the Slovenian language, but we consciously decided to sing in Slovenian at Eurovision. It means a lot to us, and we hope that our fans will accept that we want to widen our listener base and that there will be some more songs in English because of that. I think that people all around Europe or even further singing twenty of our songs in Slovenian is already a lot, and shows that we’ve done our job. In the future, we’ll create in foreign languages a lot, but we’ll also stay loyal to Slovenian.
A lot of your TV appearances can be found translated to English on the internet. Is that your doing?
Bojan: No, the credit for that goes to a group of fans from all around the world called “Joker Out Subs”, who follow our videos and concerts and translate into quite a few global languages (recently even into Hebrew). They’ve already translated a huge amount of our content, and they do it voluntarily. They’ve also connected with each other in that way, and they’ve told us that 20 of our fans, who met online because of us, booked a house together for our concert in Amsterdam (in December). They’re all coming to the concert and they will stay there together.
Nace: A lot of people have connected like that because of us, which is very nice.
What’s it like at home? Is everything the same at home despite your stardom?
Bojan: Yes, it’s all the same – go mow the lawn!
Nace: I, for example, still drive my grandmother around to run her errands.
And your grandmother listens to your songs?
Nace: She’s definitely listened to some, but I doubt that she’s playing our entire discography. (laughter)
Bojan: Oooh, mine plays it every day, she goes through everything 150 times!
Have you made any changes to your menus?
Bojan: I’ve started eating vegetables – bowls (various healthy ingredients, served in one bowl), Nace got me into that.
Nace: Isn’t it nice to savour something together that’s healthy and that we all like? (Kris pipes up from the background, saying that Nace has gotten them all into Asian food.)
Translation of the captions on the photos:
1) The special friendship with Finnish Eurovision representative Käärijä continues. Together on Finnish stages in September.
2) Bojan loves Swedish girls, says the writing on his shirt.
Translation cr: Joker Out Subs
EDIT: to celebrate the JokerOutSubs shout-out, we prepared a giveaway for Tumblr! You can read more aboout it here!
177 notes · View notes
stxrvel · 7 months
Text
gym time
summary: you didn't expect to meet someone like Bucky Barnes when you decided to enter the gym, especially since his looks and words were anything but friendly.
pairing: au!bucky barnes x f!reader
words: +1k
warning: uhm, descriptions of bucky working out? some bad words. also i suck at summaries but what i was trying to say is that bucky is very suggestive here, and there will be suggestive conversations iykwim. this chapter doesn't contain too much of that but still minors do not interact!!!!
note: hi guys! um, i dont know what to say. being honest idk why i wrote this when i dont know if i'll ever be able to continue it, i think it was for the joy or fun in it and maybe trying to test new things? i kind of wrote the draft for a second part but i dont think i want this one to be a series, i wanted to see it like a drabble but i got carried away and now there are too many words. but what i do know now is that i will be pleased to write drabbles in a scenario like this, like in this universe or au. if you guys liked this (which i hope so) would you mind sending me what would you like to see next? only time will tell how good i'm doing but i hope i can at least entertain you a little. anyway, looking forward to your opinions and i really hope you like this one! since it's my first time writing in this kind of genre :'(
Tumblr media
You were at the gym. It had been barely a week since you had started with the goal of creating a routine in your life, because work was consuming you from the inside out. Coming home no longer felt like it used to, when you still had the fever of being independent and being able to get yourself everything you wanted. Adult life really was a mud puddle compared to what we always thought as kids.
So… yeah, you decided to join the gym closest to your apartment to try to change your bad procrastination habits a bit. Maybe now that you were paying for it with your own money you'd feel more like going, just for the sake of not making the money go to waste. But, hey, it was something.
During that week everything had been relatively fine. You hadn't had any problems with anyone, no awkward comments and you had gotten some workout partners to take turns lifting weights or running on the treadmills with at the same time.
It was honestly becoming your favorite place to be after work.
And, well, of course, there was him.
The man you shared end-to-end glances with at the gym. He never came close, always kept his space, unless he had to use some machine near where you were.
He looked like a decent man… and definitely sexy. But you didn't dare get close even though it seemed to be the only thing the two of you wanted to do. The furtive glances weren't even accidental anymore, you both sought each other out through the masses of air as if it was second nature to you. And that upset you too much because it hadn't been too many days, how could you feel so passionate and heated just sharing glances with a stranger? Within what you didn't know there might be something you didn't like, even.
Anyway, you had to avert your gaze each time before it became too much, but it always seemed like it wasn't enough for the people around you not to notice.
“Why don't you just go talk to him?” Veronica spoke in front of you, waiting for Erika to leave the press to start her series.
You were on the treadmill finishing your routine that day and that man was on the other side of the gym, lifting weights like they were nothing. You had watched him for so long without embarrassment that you had almost memorized every line of his massive arms. And your partners that day had definitely noticed.
“I don't think it's appropriate,” was all you could think of.
Erika snorted, lowering her legs as she put down the weights. “She's afraid the sexual tension surrounding them will suffocate her.”
“Erika!” you scowled at her. “Stop talking nonsense.”
“I'm of the same opinion as Veronica, you should just go talk to him. If it turns out his personality isn't as sexy as his body, you're not going to lose anything and you're going to gain a lot.”
Veronica, who had already settled into the press after Erika cleaned the chair, nodded animatedly at her partner's words.
You turned your head to look at him again, just as his strong hands released the weight that bounced to the floor. You saw him shake his arms slightly and move his shoulders in circles, releasing the tension a little at a time. Even in the distance you could make out as if he were right beside you the line of his veins running around his arms and the-
“Look at her, she's drooling already.”
You clicked your tongue and Erika only shared a chuckle with Veronica. You decided to focus solely on getting the treadmill over with quickly so you could get through that day.
-
You came out of the shower with an incredible freshness dancing in your body. In the bathrooms the atmosphere was always a little cooler than in the center of the gym, so the time after the bath was one of your favorites. Veronica and Erika had already left, they had said goodbye before you entered the shower. They always left at seven o'clock at night, but you preferred to stay a little longer and enjoy the showers you paid for because you didn't have much to do at home when you got there.
With the towel over your right shoulder you walked towards the lockers to get your training bag and other belongings. You thought for a moment about leaving a few things from your bag since there would be a zumba class early tomorrow morning and maybe you were getting a little interested in going, when you heard some footsteps close to where you were.
There shouldn't have been too many people left in the gym at that time because closing time was at 8:00 p.m., so someone else must have gotten out of the shower to get their belongings just like you.
You decided to leave a few things in the locker for the next day's class, encouraging you a little more to leave the house a little earlier. Anyway, you knew Veronica would be there so you wouldn't be alone.
You pulled out the bag with the things you were going to take with you and closed the locker. You turned around to leave, when you finally realized who else had come in after you.
It was him. It was that man.
You had never met him in the evenings. He always left before seven o'clock so you never had the chance to meet him alone until that moment, when you stopped dead in front of him, your sneakers grinding against the floor as if you had braked violently at fifty kilometers per hour.
Your locker was all the way in the left corner of that room and it looked like his was a few spaces away from yours in the same direction, closer to the door.
His gaze lifted in your direction at the sound of your shoes and you had to squeeze your bag strap tightly over your shoulder, eating your embarrassment fiercely.
“Hey,” he spoke first and his voice was nothing like you had imagined.
It was incredibly better. His baritone tone, somewhat raspy and light, sounded like he didn't have a care in the world. The way he slightly curved his lips sent an electric sensation throughout your body. He had given you that smile before, but at that proximity it was a whole new experience. It seemed like your body began to vibrate on another frequency.
“How did you like the gym?”
“Uh?”
The man turned back to you, closing his locker almost at the same time and leaning his shoulder against it in the most smooth way you'd ever seen, handling his body with a confidence that almost made you feel intimidated.
“You're new here, aren't you?”
“Ah, yes,” you nodded slightly, again feeling that embarrassment make its way from your throat. “I've really liked the gym, I've felt very comfortable thankfully. And the monthly plans are very good, affordable.”
The man nodded attentively at your words, as you tried to keep your composure under his sharp gaze.
“I'm Bucky,” he suddenly introduced himself, stepping a little closer to where you stood.
“I'm Y/N,” you kept your voice steady as you raised your hand to meet his that had just extended in front of you at a safe distance. “A pleasure.”
“The pleasure's all mine,” Bucky gave your hand a good shake, causing things in your body that you were too embarrassed to admit. You didn't know if your cheeks could get flushed, but at that moment you felt like they looked cartoonish, vibrant red and hot. “And I'm glad to hear you're comfortable. I do my best to make my clients happy.”
“Oh…?”
Even though you felt spellbound under the piercing fierceness of those blue eyes, your ears were still working enough to allow your head to process what you'd heard.
“You're the owner?”
Bucky nodded and you wanted to hide your head in a hole for a moment.
So you'd been eye-fucking the owner of the gym? Hell, now that you thought about it more clearly, it could even be that this man was older than you, much older.
Oh no, the things you had to go through for not being a little more prudent. Good thing that embarrassing moment would only be in your head.
“And now that you know, you can drop any complaints or recommendations directly to me, if you want.”
You let out a short laugh, trying to cut through the awkwardness you felt inside as you realized the situation you were in.
“Sure, yeah, anything I need to tell you I'll do it personally.”
“Also if you want me to change something… give you something or do something, you can tell me.”
“Sure,” you nodded quickly, starting to move around him to get closer to the exit. Bucky wouldn't take his eyes off you. “Now I know I'm counting on you for anything…. From the gym, that is.”
Your awkward laugh died under his intense but amused gaze. Was he enjoying it?
“And you can talk to me, if you want too,” Bucky continued speaking as you completely surrounded him and now found yourself in the position he had been before, “not just watching me from afar.”
You were sure the blood had left your face by this time. Your level of embarrassment had gone over the edge and in that instant you didn't know how to do anything but look at him as if he had caught you in the middle of a crime. You tightened the strap of your bag while holding your breath as you noticed him moving a little closer towards you.
“It's not that it bothers me, don't go thinking that. It's just that… I'd like to get to know you a little more if that's possible.”
“Uhm…” you mumbled with a dry mouth, the reflection of the light in his blue eyes much clearer against the short distance between the two of you. You passed saliva with difficulty, shaking your head to answer him, “Yeah, sure. I'd like to know you too.”
You watched out of the corner of your eye as he nodded at your words, not making a move to get any closer. If that five-foot distance alone already felt like you were suffocating, you didn't want to imagine what it would be like to have him standing to the side or behind you explaining how to do some exercise even though you already knew how to do them all…
Shit.
“See you then, doll.”
He walked around you, walking away from that conversation and that tension like it was nothing, like a bomb hadn't just exploded in front of you. You couldn't even say anything goodbye to him, you didn't know in that instant how to move your mouth.
For a moment you felt so foolish for allowing yourself to show yourself in such a vulnerable way in front of a man… but, at the same time, so much had happened since the last time you had actively flirted with one of them (even though what you had done at that moment had been spitting words). You'd barely had a taste to remember what the adrenaline, excitement and anticipation of having a truly fun night was like… that you didn't plan on letting go.
Bucky had thrown you that rope and you were sure you were going to take it.
-
a/n: thank you for reading!! <3
245 notes · View notes
joelswritingmistress · 3 months
Text
You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 23
Tumblr media
Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 
Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader
I saw the Mercedes logo and felt the jolt of adrenaline begin to fade out of my body. I put a hand on my head and sunk back against the iron gates when I saw Dr. Miller exit the vehicle.
My eyes closed and I swallowed hard. “You scared me.” I breathed the words and remained frozen in place. My body couldn't take another jolt that night. Two were too many.
My eyes opened when I felt Dr. Miller in my personal space and I accepted a quick kiss from him.
He studied my expression and his smile faded. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little freaked out,” I admitted. “I didn't think you'd be here for an hour so when the car pulled up I froze.”
“I'm sorry.” He touched my face gently. 
I placed my hand over his, relieved he was there in front of me. “No, don't be. It's me. I got shaken up at school and then this.” I shook my head.
Dr. Miller’s eyebrows edged together and teased his forehead. “What happened at school?”
“Can we talk inside?”
He nodded and I could see the concern written all over his face. I turned and punched in the code fully, making the gates edge open and then pulled up the force way ahead of him.
The second we crossed in through the front door, Dr. Miller helped remove my coat from off my shoulders and then confronted me immediately.
“What happened?” He asked.
We were barely a step inside and I knew he wasn't about to let it go.
“Nothing really.” I shook my head.
“Something.” Dr. Miller put his hands on his hips in a fatherly fashion and stared at me intently.
I took a deep breath and reached for his hand, kicking off my shoes in the process. I pulled him with me into the living room so we weren't just standing in the near-dark by the doorway.
Dr. Miller gave in to my non-verbal request and trailed me to the living room. In the corner of the room was a decanter and he helped himself to his typical small pour of bourbon as he turned on a few stray lights in the process.
“Would you like some?” He offered, but I shook my head and he quickly joined me on the comfortable, oversized couch.
“It was probably nothing,” I began.
“I'll be the judge of that.” Dr. Miller sipped his drink and rested his elbows on his knees as he sat forward with his drink in between his hands. His head was turned so his eyes were on mine.
I settled back into the couch and threw a blanket over my lap. “After class I texted you back, and then I texted James. I scooted into the bathroom by the elevator before I left and someone tried to open the door to my stall. I said that I would be right out.”
“It's a multi-stall bathroom?”
I nodded. “Yeah. There's three.” When he didn't ask another question I went on. “Then the person knocked. I told them again I'd be right out. And then they started banging hard on the door and turning the handle over and over until I told them I was on the phone with campus police.”
“And then what happened?”
“They left.” I shrugged and Dr. Miller took a drink. “I texted James and he came down.”
His eyes shifted back to meet mine and he squinted hard. “Why didn't you call me?”
“You were teaching.”
“So what.”
“So.. I.. didn't want to interrupt you.”
“(Y/N), you were attacked!”
“I wasn't attacked.”
“That's..” Dr. Miller pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He didn't say anything for a long moment.
“I'm.. I'm sorry.. I just thought it wouldn't be appropriate to call you and-”
“Appropriate?” He practically shouted the word.
“Well, we’re not exactly supposed to be together according to the university,” I reminded him just a little sternly. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Call me!” He said, rising to his feet with his arms out wide.
“And what would people think then?” I asked, challenging him.
“I don't really give a shit what people would think,” he shouted back again, pointing a finger in my direction, scolding me further. “Two women have been killed on campus.”
“I'm aware.” I raised my voice just a little.
“And you still act so..” Dr. Miller stopped himself and sipped his drink.
“So what?”
“Nothing.” He looked away.
“So stupid?” I asked, to which he didn't answer. “I called James.”
“You called James,” he scoffed with a huff of a laugh. “Your lanky, little friend who couldn't fend off a squirrel if it attacked you.”
“I didn't want to bother you-”
“Next time you call me,” Dr. Miller instructed harshly as he pinged his own chest hard with his index finger. “Me.” He shook his head and turned his back on me. I felt a lump develop in my throat and tried not to cry out of frustration. “Someone threatens you in the bathroom and-”
“No one threatened me,” I cut him off with a shout and felt my voice crack.
Dr. Miller whipped around and I could see he was prepared to continue with his rant, but he saw my damp eyes and stopped himself.
Fuck. I didn't want to cry. I felt so foolish for crying, but after being on edge twice that night and then having Dr. Miller unexpectedly yell at me over the bathroom incident, I couldn't completely hold it together.
I sniffed in and drew a hand under my eyes to wipe away the tear that fell from each. And then I didn't let any more fall. I looked away toward the windows to the right and saw Dr. Miller approach from the corner of my eye.
He set the bourbon glass down and squatted in front of me, placing his hands on my thighs over the blanket. When he bowed his head I looked down at him and let out a deep exhale.
“I'm sorry.” Dr. Miller shook his head, still eying the floor. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. I..” He shook his head and there was another long pause. “You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just..” He took a deep breath and finally looked up at me. “I don't want anything to happen to you. And something could have tonight.”
“But it didn't.”
“It could have,” he repeated. “Don't ever hesitate to call me. Your safety is my priority. I don't care about my job at the university. If someone finds out, they find out.” Dr. Miller shrugged. “Your safety is an exception to everything.”
“I didn't want to interrupt your lesson.”
“Fuck the lesson.” The stern nature of his voice returned but he seemed to reset again as he looked down and back up at me. “It was smart to call James. I'm sure he scared off whoever it was, but if you're ever in a situation like that again-”
“I'll call you,” I agreed. My eyes were locked on his and neither of us flinched for several seconds.
Dr. Miller finally nodded before taking my face in his hands. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes when he kissed me. At the same time I felt tears escape the corners of my eyes again and when he pulled back I could see the remorse in his expression.
“Don't cry,” he begged. “I'm sorry.”
I pulled him in for a hug and he buried his face in the nook of my neck. “I’ll call you next time.”
“I just don’t want to see anything happen to you,” Dr. Miller said against me.
“I know.”
When he pulled back I leaned in at the same time that he did and we shared another kiss.
“I cut my class short to come home early,” he added. “I just.. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”
“Here or anywhere?” I asked honestly.
“Anywhere,” Dr. Miller admitted right away. He continued to hold my stare. “Do you think someone was after you tonight?”
I hesitated before shrugging. “I really don’t know. Maybe someone was just being impatient. Maybe they had a bad day.” It was the same thing I had said to James. “It could’ve been something worse, but I don’t know.”
“Did you get a look at the person?”
I shook my head. “No.” I wish I hadn’t froze up and had it in me to look through the small space in the stall door.
Dr. Miller nodded to himself and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be sorry.” He held me against him again and I melted into him. Dr. Miller kissed my forehead. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I told him.
He let out a deep breath against me and then toyed with my hair. I finally cracked a small smile.
“Let me make you dinner,” Dr. Miller said. “And then we can watch a little TV and go to bed.”
“Okay.”
Our lips touched again and he helped me up off the couch. I reached down for his bourbon glass and took a small sip before handing it to him. It made him smirk.
“Hey,” I remembered my conversation with Tori. “Did you pay my rent for two months?”
“Yes.” Dr. Miller said directly with a nod.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
He looked around the spacious room and then looked back to me. “Move in with me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Dr. Miller looked at me. “You’re here all the time anyway. I know it’s only been about a month, but it’s one of those things when you know, you know. I want you to stay here.. permanently.”
Permanently. Why was I one-hundred percent on board with no questions asked - and even less questions answered?
Maybe because you’re falling in love with your hot, rich professor? I reminded myself. I truly didn’t care that Dr. Miller had money. Sure, the castle was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life and it was over-the-top extravagant. But, I would have lived in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment with him in any neighborhood, any town, any place. I was caught up. Caught up in him and his look, his personality, his sexy allure. Dr. Miller was magnetic and I was clinging to him for dear life.
“What do you say?” He asked, swirling the whiskey in this glass before taking a sip. His eyes still pierced mine as he drank.
A smile formed on my face that, for some reason, I was trying to hold back. And then it got bigger and wider and I began to giggle. Dr. Miller smiled, as I was sure he could already suspect what my answer was.
“Yes.” I laughed some more and answered again, “I say yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes!” 
Yes. I was moving in with Dr. Miller. And I couldn’t even address him by name. How warped. But I couldn’t deny it, I was completely caught up - and I was loving every minute of it.
CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER
@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1
93 notes · View notes
argisthebulwark · 8 months
Text
Who Fell First, Who Fell Harder? Trope
Tumblr media
summary: Short Character A Fell First, Character B Fell Harder trope drabbles. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Vilkas, Teldryn, Arnbjorn, Cicero, Miraak, Erandur warnings: alcohol mention
You fell first, Vilkas fell harder. It was hardly a surprise when you found yourself seriously interested in him, it was clear from the start you found him attractive. Once the intimidation wore off and you got to know him personally it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. You kept it to yourself as he exactly broadcast an interest in romance - but when the feelings hit they hit him hard. He disliked the physical way he reacted in your presence; hands shaking, heart fluttering, words reduced to a stumbling mess upon meeting your gaze. It would take him a long time to admit he wanted you, only doing so when you admit how you feel for him. 
Teldryn fell first, you fell harder. He found himself slipping more flirtation into your banter and relishing in the way you leaned toward him after a few too many drinks. He could've said something but it was more fun to wait and allow you to figure it out. He would be content with nights spent together on the road, trading stories and sharing a single bottle of wine. It was one of these many nights when you found yourself yearning to kiss him, to close the admittedly small distance between your bodies. You'd quickly realize that you wanted nothing more than to spend all of your nights laughing with him. 
You fell first, Arnbjorn fell harder. Your little crush on him was a well-guarded secret. There never seemed to be an appropriate time to voice your feelings. Even if he didn’t return them it was fun, enjoying the passing glances and fleeting conversations that slowly built a friendship.  He ignored harboring feelings for you as long as possible - pushing them down, cutting conversations short and flat out ignoring you at times. He sought you out only when he could no longer stand it, when it felt like he would choke on the words he struggled to not say. Arnbjorn would admit his feelings for you against his better judgment, shocked when you actually return them. 
You fell first, Cicero fell harder. Upon first meeting at that broken wagon you thought he was cute, an enjoyable change of pace. You’d never encountered someone like him and found your thoughts drifting to him long after your parting. You wondered where he ended up and hoped to see him in each new town you entered. Upon learning that you were his Listener his little crush would explode into full devotion. He’d want nothing more than to be in your presence and lavish his affections upon you. He'd tell anyone within earshot that it was fate or divine intervention that brought you together on that first day.
Miraak fell first, you fell harder. He fell for you in those short moments you shared and his time observing you. He spent his free time noting your likes and dislikes, your habits, every little thing that tied his heart to yours.  You didn’t want to admit your feelings for him - for good reason, of course. But there was something so tantalizing about his snarky comments, always meant to wound but not kill. The way his hands and eyes always seemed to linger a touch too long. You found yourself seeking new ways to spite him purely for a few more minutes in his presence. 
You fell first, Erandur fell harder. Despite your obvious flirtations he seemed too closed off, too unsure of himself to acknowledge your feelings. You gave him the space he clearly needed knowing that it might take him a while to learn what he truly wanted.  He’d long ago realized how deeply he cared for you but stuffed that away. It felt selfish of him to share his feelings, to wish for more when he already had so much. He was saved, the distance from his past growing with each day and he had your unwavering friendship. When he finally spilled his deepest secret he'd be surprised at the easy way you returned them, like it was the most natural thing for you to love him.
199 notes · View notes
tillthelandslide · 7 months
Text
Same For You: (4) No Need to Explain
Tumblr media
Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...
A/n: okay.... Here's part 4, honestly I am so so excited for you guys to see what it's in store for this series, every chapter I am more and more proud of and I am really enjoying working on this, it's actually making me so happy and I love this series (never thought I'd say that about my own work) I know it's a bit slow to get going but please bare with me.... It will be worth it truth me! Love you lots - Lou 🫶🏼
IM SORRY I JUST COULDN'T WAIT TO POST IT...
Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername (if you want to be added please just drop me a message 🫶🏼)
Series Masterlist
(3) The Deal
Matty's house was very... Plain? She was unsure whether that was the appropriate word to describe it, she liked it, it felt arty and edgy, but she preferred a space that felt like home. Of course there were things scattered around his house that screamed "Matty". Things that added a special touch to his space, but she felt a little lonely looking around the hallway, following the man into his kitchen.
"Nice place" she comments, not entirely telling the truth. His eyes find her face and he scans it, noting the way she smiled but how it didn't quite reach her eyes, a tell tale sign of her lying.
"Really? Doesn't really seem liked your kind of thing" he asks and she pulls a funny face at him, not able to lie. He only chuckles at her as he clicks the kettle on.
"Bit too neat for my liking..." She says and he laughs again. His house was visually pleasing, she'd be silly to deny that, but it didn't feel lived in. She likes the feeling she got when she went back to her mother's house, the warm feeling in her stomach, her heart feeling like it was back home again. She didn't get that from Matty's place and looking around the room, she didn't see how he could feel that way either.
"You can call me boring love, it's fine....I won't take offense" she shakes her head, and again he's laughing. She gets that feeling in her stomach again, it dips and then soars and she thought it was only one reserved for Ross, but now, sitting across from Matty, she's learning that maybe that wasn't the case.
"No... No not boring, just wasn't what I expected is all. I like it, it's very aesthetic. Just not as homey as I personally like..." She pauses as she looks around the room, even his kitchen was clean cut and raw, there weren't many decorations and if she didn't know him she'd think he'd just moved in.
"Does it not get lonely? I can imagine it would" she says and if she was asked, she'd blame it on the alcohol she'd consumed. She takes in the furrow of Mattys eyebrows and the way he runs a hand along his chin as he looks at her. Matty quite liked the way she was unwaveringly honest with him, she didn't hold herself back despite people typically doing so when they hadn't known each other all that long. Matty was like that too... Another similarity that drew them together.
"Sorry....I'm intruding" she says just as the kettle clicks, Matty turns away from her, attending to the tea.
"How'd you take it love?" He asks, ignoring the desire to take the piss out of his own words, make an innuendo just to ease some of the tension. But he then thinks it's better to just welcome it, for it was with her, if it was her asking questions that made him slightly uncomfortable, he knew he wouldn't mind all that much.
"Milky please... Two sugars" she says and he makes it how she likes, turning back to her and placing the tea in front of her.
"We can sit in my living room if you'd like? Slightly more 'homey" then the rest of the house" he jests and she raises a hand over her heart, feigning hurt.
"You're never going to let me live that down are you?" She says and she begins following him to the other room.
"I mean, I invited you into my home and so far all you've done is take the piss" he jokes, he sits down, quite close to her considering the sofa was large enough for three. He sees her shiver and he sighs.
"hold this a second" he asks, despite the fact he has a coffee table. She does as he says and their fingers graze before he disappears, running upstairs. Whilst he's gone she takes in the two mugs she's holding and the sight brings a genuine smile to her lips.
His is a white mug with red writing that reads "world's best dad", whilst he's given her another white mug that reads "some people just need a high five" in big letters with smaller letters underneath that read "in the face with a chair" she chuckles out loud and she can hear Matty hum from upstairs.
She then hears him run back down the stairs, before he's standing before her again, a large hoodie resting in his arms.
"Here" he says, handing it to her.
"thanks" she says, handing him both cups as she tugs the jumper over her head. It seems like cigarettes and him and the edges are frayed but the fabric underneath is soft and feels warm against her skin. The fabric was creased, it had been worn recently, he had worn it and again that warm fuzzy feeling appears in her stomach. She tries to push it away as she peers across at him, taking in the small smile that rests against his mouth, she watches his eyes rake down her form and her mouth goes dry. She shouldn't be feeling like this, it was wrong.
"cute' he comments as he gives her the mug back, she simply smiles at him. He holds his cup in one hand, resting his arm around the back of the sofa, hand resting next to her head as they look at each other.
"Nice mugs" she laughs again and his eyes flick between the mugs, bringing the hand that's next to her up to his face when he realises what he's done.
"I'm so sorry" there's no real reason to apologise so she brings her hand to his and takes it away from her face and squeezes it, shaking her head at him.
"It's fine... I like them - very you" he raises his eyebrows at that and she laughs again, he laughs alone with her after a beat. Eventually when their laughter dies down, his eyes flick to her their intertwined hand and he feels himself blush. His mind flicks to Ross, and he immediately pulls his hand away (although gently as to not offend her) and he places it back next to her head.
"To answer your question earlier... Yes, it gets lonely" he says and she smiles sadly at him.
"Bet you're hardly here though right? Always on the road?" She asks and he nods.
"Yeah... Don't spend that much time here... Sometimes makes it worse to be honest" he says and she frowns at him.
"How so?"
"When we're on tour, I got my boys y'know. The truth is, they're home to me... So when I'm here and they're not... It's just lonely" he says and she nods, understanding. She leans her head against his hand, and he smiles at her as she does. Her cheek is warm against the skin there and he feels electricity spark against his hand.
He wanted nothing more than to lean forward and grasp her face in his hold, never letting her go... But he couldn't... Not when it was clear Ross was also interested. He debates whether to bring up the bassist and despite knowing he shouldn't, he can't help it.
"Looked awfully cosy with Ross tonight... Wearing his jacket and everything" Matty comments. She knew something was up earlier, and she feels conflicted that he seems to be bothered by it. She felt more than confused about her feelings, it was obvious she cared for Matty too much already, he made her smile and laugh, and she had that warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach when she spoke to him.
But Ross excited her, she wanted to know everything there was to know about him, she also felt at home with the man. He could smile and her heart would soar and her hairs would stand on end. She was fucked.
"You don't like that" she says, it wasn't a question, it was a statement and Matty doesn't know how to respond.
"I wouldn't say that no... I dunno y/n. I feel sort of protective over you. Not that Ross would do anything bad. Quite the opposite. I dunno. It's complicated"
Complicated didn't even begin to describe it. She had never felt this way before, she couldn't pinpoint what she felt for the both of them, but she also felt horrible because the truth was she hardly knew either of them yet, not truly, not for long enough.
"Nothing will happen if you don't want it to" she says and she doesn't really know why she does, it just slips out. She didn't know how to feel and clearly her brain wasn't functioning properly. She knew ideally she shouldn't be thinking about either of them this way, she was working with them now. It was unprofessional.
"Do you want something to happen?" He asks and he watches as she removes her face from against his hand, taking a sip of her tea as she shrugs.
"I hardly know either of you Matty... And I'm about to be working with you both. So it's not a good idea" she says and he nods slowly, eyes wandering over her facial features, fingertips plucking his lips, rolling the bottom one between his thumb and finger. As he looks at her in can't help but find a flaw in her words, they did know each other, maybe they hadn't known each other for very long but he already knew things about her that made him care for her deeply, that made him yearn for her.
"Okay... But ignore that for a second. What do you feel?" He asks and she just laughs, because she couldn't give him an answer. She didn't know. Or she was in denial.
"I don't know" she says honestly. The only way she could describe it, was that she felt a pull towards the both of them, she was unsure what that meant, or whether that meant she liked one or the other, but she knew when she was with Matty, she didn't feel so alone, he was with someone who was similar to her, who understood the dark parts of her soul.
But when she was with Ross, she felt like she was the person she wanted to be, someone desired, someone wanted. Ross represented a different part of herself, someone free, someone happy, someone who finally felt at home and she liked who she was and how she felt when she was around him.
"Hmm" he doesn't press any further and instead they both finish their tea and she explains that she should head home soon. She retrieves her phone from Matty's coat pocket, the both of them standing at his door as they wait for the Uber to arrive. She peers at the time, 1:02 it reads and she frowns slightly, seeing a text from Ross. She's still wearing his hoodie and she doesn't plan on taking it off and he smiles at that.
"Thank you for the tea" she says and somehow his hand weaves its way into hers, most of it is hidden under the fabric but his hand slips beneath it, grasping the warm but small hand in his.
"You're welcome" he says, pulling her towards him to hug her tightly. His arms wrap around her waist, and he pulls her up slightly, forcing her on her tip toes. Her arms weave their way across his shoulders, tucking her head to the side against his chest as his tuck into her neck.
She feels his breath caressing her skin and feels the symphony of his heart, drumming against her ear. It was intimate, it was nice. He sighs deeply and she feels his lips contort into a smile against her neck, they weren't pressed against the skin but they grazed it. Goosebumps. She had goosebumps.
"Let me know when you're home okay?" She nods into his embrace "and maybe... If you figure out how you're feeling... Give me a text" he says and his words surprise her, she doesn't know what they mean, or what he wants. She pulls away from the man, looking up into his eyes and nodding. Their hands don't let go of each other until their fingertips are unable to touch anymore and finally they drop.
She then slips into the Uber and feels even more confused then she initially did, especially when she sees two more texts from Ross.
"Love? Xx" One reads.
"I'm hoping you've just fallen asleep... Won't take offense this time 😋xx" the next reads.
"I'm so so sorry! I wasn't ignoring you I swear.. Matty left his keys in his coat and I dropped them off. On my way home now though. I promise I'm safe xx" she replies back, seeing three dots appear before they disappear again.
She frowns at that, did she upset him?
❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀ •°❀°•❀•°❀°•❀
She meets with the band the next day, explaining the plans in further detail to them. They all (apart from Jay) seem to be okay with the idea, excited to be working the band.
"Alright Jay stop being a dick, you could've easily come to the meeting with y/n and had your say but you didn't... So now majority rules and you're going to have to deal with it" Abbie argues, standing up for her friend which ultimately y/n is thankful for.
Jay sighs and pouts whilst the rest ask some more questions, all of which she answers happily.
"So Matty is really keen to have all of us in the studio together, give us a chance to get to know everyone... We can sit down and show them what we've got if we want... Or start from scratch" y/n explains, they all nod, smiling widely.
"I'm so fucking hyped man" Clara says making everyone laugh "this is going to be epic" she says and y/n cant help but smile widely as she speaks.
Eventually everyone has to leave for their day jobs, but y/n says at the coffee shop, receiving a text from Ross.
"Want to grab that coffee we spoke about? Xx" she's thankful that he's not annoyed or upset enough to completely ignore her.
"Absolutely! I'm actually at a place now, was just catching up with the band but they've gone to work" she says, texting him the address after. He arrives maybe 10 minutes later and she can't help but smile widely when he walks through the door. He wears a black hoodie that is big but not so big it drowns him, she can still make out his good figure, and the way his chest still sits flush against the fabric. A pair of old blue jeans rest against his legs and her eyes can't help but find his thighs, despite her brain telling her not to.
He walks over to the counter, quickly ordering himself a drink before he makes his way over to her. Placing his drink down so he could properly say hello.
She stands up to greet him, the pair meeting in a tight hug. She hears him sigh against her and she swear she can sense how wide he's smiling. And he's there again, invading her senses, completly taking them over, commanding them.
"Hi" he says as they pull away from each other.
"hi" she smiles as she sits down, leaning on the palm of her hand as she looks across at him. He begs himself to get a grip, heart increasing tenfold as he looks at her, she looked so adorable sitting there like that, the jumper she's wearing, hooked up over her hands to keep her warm.
"So... You said the others went to work? What are you still doing here then?" He asks and she smiles.
"Well... Lucky for me music is my day job" she says and he raises his eyebrows up at her.
"Yeah I write songs for other artists, I've got a small studio in the garage of our house" she says, referring to the band who all live together. "I make stuff for other people as and when the offers there"
"Wow, that's cool... Show me what you're working on at the moment?" He asks and she slides the open note book towards him, their fingertips graze as she hands it to him and they hold eye contact for far too long before his eyes slowly wander down to the paper, reading the words on the page.
"This one is actually for us... Maybe" she says, referencing the band again. She forces the words out despite the way her breath is failing her. Did he feel it too? The way it felt like electricity buzzed between them when they made contact? The way it felt like time slowed as they looked into each other's eyes? The way it felt so god damn difficult to break the eye contact that just felt right?
Her handwriting is small, neat and delicate and he smiles as he reads over the words. His mind flicks to the idea of seeing her write his name, a random thought, a slightly obscure desire but one the man suddenly feels himself in dire need of.
"Not my best work..." She says and he flicks his eyes to meet hers, shaking his head.
"What?" She asks, leaning back against her chair, arms crossed. She looks so cute like that, he thinks, all stubborn and pouty, almost mad that he wasn't just saying what he was thinking. Instead he was shaking his head, sending unclear and blurry messages her way. She wants nothing more than to crawl inside his mind and be able to see every thought, touch every desire and set alight all his doubts.
He feels himself wanting to lean forward, to do something to stop that look, to make her smile at him, for him. A boop of her nose that would make it crinkle in a way that would somehow make her look even cuter. Maybe he could graze his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss, feeling the way her breath hit his lips, hearing the way she'd giggle that giggle that he was already obsessed with. Maybe he could lean forward until his lips were nearly touching hers and just maybe when the tension became too much she'd give in, drop that look from her face and just have to kiss him, because she wouldn't be able to handle the distance apart anymore.
But he couldn't do that, he couldn't do any of it.
"Can't believe you can't see how amazing you are" he says, beginning to read part of what she had written out loud. She tries not to cringe at him speaking her own words.
"You can feel it in your soul Close your eyes and lose control Set it free and let it go Now I'm gonna let you know You'll never stop these changing roads This is the way our story goes"
"That's amazing love" he says and she blushes deeply.
"It's okay... You should really hear the demo to get the full experience" she says and he smiles.
"Tell me about it" he says, leaning forward, clinging on to her every word. She goes on to explain how she did an arrangement of strings and different sounding guitars, the song building up as you listen, and Ross can't get enough, asking question after question, just wanting a peek into her brain.
"Wow... Sounds impressive" he says.
"Thanks" she tilts her head down slightly to shield her face from him, which was tinted red at the cheeks. Her hair falls in front of her face and this time he can't resist leaning forward and hooking it behind her ear.
"You look very pretty today" he comments making her blush even more.
"Thanks..." She seems shy now and Ross finds himself liking the change in her behaviour, proud that he drew that from her. Her phone buzzes on the table and his eyes flick down to it at the same time hers do, reading "Bestie", Ross's eyebrows furrow at it, wondering again if his speculations were right.
"Sorry... It's just Matty" she says, placing her phone back down without replying. Ross doesn't know how to feel about the fact he was named that in her phone, or how to feel that he was texting her. But he quite likes how she doesn't reply, giving him her attention. He remembers her text last night and feels guilty he invited it. But the truth is he didn't know how to reply without making it obvious he was jealous.
"Just recommended me a song to listen to" she explains. Ross can't explain how the fact she was open with him, the fact that she told him exactly what the text was about, instead of leaving him guessing... He couldn't explain why he felt happy, but he did. His mind still flicks back to last night though.
"So... You went to his last night?" He asks, taking a sip from his coffee cup, attempting not to sound jealous or bitter.
"Yeah... The idiot left his keys in the coat. I just had a cup of tea and then went home" that piece of information appeases Ross and he pushes the unwanted and perhaps unneeded jealousy aside.
"He does make a mean brew" his tone has changed now and y/n sighs, feeling a pressure removed from her shoulders. Ross smiles at her and she smiles back.
"You know nothing's happening with Matty right?" She doesn't quite know why she asks it. But she felt like she had to, it was obvious something was happening between her and the bassist (whether it should be or not) and she didn't want him thinking something that wasn't true.
"oh" he says simply, he was then the one that was blushing, embarrassed that it was that obvious he had a problem with it.
"It's hard to explain but... Matty and I are really similar... I see myself in him a lot. And I guess that just draws us together a little bit y'know?" She asks and he nods.
"You don't have to explain yourself y/n, it's fine" but he smiles and secretly likes that she explains, that she tells him the truth. It saves him stressing about what was going on with her and Matty (although he still does, or perhaps just a little less than he usually would). And he supposes it makes her intentions a little clearer, less foggy.
"I know... But I want to" she says and he smiles wider now, reaching for her hand, deciding to cast any apprehension aside and just do what he wanted, which right now, was holding her hand.
The pair begin to talk about everything, finally getting to know each other the way they wanted. And again she feels like she's known him for years. She's surprised to find out how funny he was and how forward he could be, how flirty he was when he wanted. She wasn't surprised to find out that he was kind, unbelievably so and maybe too much for his own good, it was obvious how deeply he cared for others.
She found herself wanting, no, needing, to spend more time with him and the idea that they'd be working with each other made her feel undeniably happy.
When they eventually have to go their separate ways, the hug lasts a little bit too long to be considered friendly, and the way his hands drop to hold hers, not letting them go until someone has to literally squeeze past the pair, has her heart beating fast (which only returns to normal when she's far far away from him).
Ross made the blood in her veins redundant, it wasn't carrying oxygen to her body to keep it alive for the oxygen she needed to breathe was replaced by him when they were together. It wasn't air that she needed to survive, it was him. Ross caused her heart to play it's own symphony, one in which was vibrant and beautiful and made her question how she lived without him up until now.
She was well and truly obsessed, she didn't know whether this was right or wrong, whether she was delusional or of sound mind, whether this was good or bad. But one thing was for certain, whatever this was, there was no stopping it now, no matter how hard she tried to. Although neither of them knew that yet...
© all lyrics are written and owned by yours truly (let's ignore the fact they're not that good but yeah) no stealing hehe
(5) Changing Roads
149 notes · View notes
restartheartvn · 9 months
Text
Interaction Etiquette and Boundaries
Hey guys! Let's have a little chat about interaction etiquette, boundaries, and what not to do when talking to other people online! I'll be speaking pretty broadly here, but every creator has different comfort levels so when it doubt, ask!
Other game devs/creators in the yan-sphere feel free to reblog with your boundaries!
Commenting on Art
I've been seeing a lot of inappropriate and unnecessary comments circulating around recently about art so I wanted to tackle this first. In general, it's a good rule of thumb to not post unprompted critiques! Many artists just don't want that input nor do they have the space to think about their process in a critical way and just want to post something fun! If someone asks for a critique, keep it classy! Don't be a dick for the sake of being 'blunt'! You can be honest and polite. Nitpicking is not constructive criticism either!
My personal boundary with this: Don't poke fun at, or make jokes about my art or my process! It doesn't offend me but I do not like it!
Comparing Characters
I see this a lot in the form of ranking your favorite characters, which while harmless to post, is completely inappropriate to put in a creators askbox/comments/reblogs! I understand it's fun to compare characters and make parallels, but creators work very hard on their blorbos and it's pretty discouraging to be constantly told your work is a rip-off of or a walmart version of anothers!
My personal boundary with this: Don't put down other creators in order to uplift others! You can say nice things about characters without being mean about the others.
Tagging Creators
A lot of creators in this sphere don't mind being tagged in fancontent, but when it doubt ask! A lot of creators also have tags they regularly go through to look for fan content.
My personal boundary with this: Feel free to tag me in fan content! I also check through the tags 'Restart Heart VN', 'Restart Heart Game', and 'Restart Heart'! But please don't tag me in things outside of fan content or for personal reasons!
Spam and "Reminders"
Please don't spam creators! Sending messages asking about why your questions haven't been answered, harassing creators into answering, or spamming a question until it gets a response is incredibly inappropriate! You are not entitled to responses nor is it appropriate to come into a creators space and demand things! We are on here because we want to positively interact with our communities, not get bossed around! A lot of creators leave these spaces because it becomes too much when fans are constantly demanding content. Creators deserve a work-life balance and shouldn't feel pressured to pump out content.
My personal boundary with this: I will block you if you do this! I am not in great health and don't have the energy to deal with boundary stomping or entitlement.
Fan Merch/Profiting off of a Creators Characters
This one is pretty tricky since each creator has their own comfort levels! But as a blanket statement, only use art or assets you created yourself! Using someone else's work is inappropriate and illegal in some cases!
My personal boundary with this: I'm rather strict on this because I have a lot of official merch planned and imo it's easier to drop a rule than to add one! I personally am not comfortable with people making merchandise of my characters or selling them since I will be doing that myself. If you make youtube videos I'm fine with you monetizing them as long as you specify my game is 18+ and you show the full game disclaimer! If you are an artist who does commission work, I don't mind if you use my characters at client request! If you post on patreon, please don't make it solely based on my game! I have more extensive words on this on the website!
Other general tips!
While creators generally appreciate comments and reblogs from fans, some of your thoughts are inside thoughts! Think about how someone would respond in real life to your comment. Not every thought should be posted or commented! It’s important to think about intention and lack of tone over the internet, I personally suggest using tone tags if you're worried about your message coming across wrong.
People also shouldn’t have to remind others of their boundaries all the time. If there are pinned posts and rules for engagement then others should read through them thoroughly before making any sort of interaction.
173 notes · View notes
gotinterest · 2 months
Text
I Want To Watch Kamen Rider, Which Season Do I Pick?
I'm going to focus on Heisei Era shows because those are the easiest to access and the ones most fans have watched so it's easy to find people to talk to about them. Every season of Kamen Rider is a different story with a different cast and vibe, so determining which season you should start on is largely dependent upon your personal taste. This list is based mostly on the shows I have watched or know a lot about, so it's not exhaustive. Some shows will be listed under more than one category, just depending upon what might be most important to you. Guide is located under the read more!
DO NOT START HERE: Kamen Rider Decade, Kamen Rider Zi-O, Kamen Rider Gaim. Decade and Zi-O are anniversary shows that lean HEAVILY upon Rider lore and referencing past seasons. You don't need to watch those seasons to understand the story, BUT you may get spoiled on key plot points from past seasons by watching them. Gaim is on here because it is almost universally hated and thought of as a terrible show.
WARNINGS FOR THE SHOWS RECOMMENDED HERE: Kamen Rider Blade is heavy in the flashing lights department and the opening in particular is known to bother photosensitive folks! All the seasons have flashing lights, but Blade is the one that people have straight up said they couldn't watch through because of how many flashing lights there are.
Kamen Rider Kuuga has a pretty gross transmisogynistic caricature in two of the episodes.
Kamen Rider OOO has a cafe that is nicknamed the "cultural appropriation cafe" by fans because the servers are frequently made to dress up in outfits from other cultures and it can be a bit offensive from time to time. It's not the worst I've seen in terms of "people dressing up as other cultures" and there isn't any black face or brown face but I still felt it worth mentioning since the cafe is a major part of the show.
Kamen Rider Faiz has a black character in it for a few episodes who is written in a way that gives "big dangerous strong black guy" stereotype. It's uncomfortable to watch.
RECOMMENDATIONS:
I don't really like kid's shows and I'd prefer something a little more mature: Kamen Rider Kuuga, Kamen Rider Ryuki, Kamen Rider Hibiki (eps. 1-29 only). If you are looking for a show that feels more mature, these are where you should start. The pacing of these shows is a bit slower and more thoughtful. Kuuga and Ryuki are both HIGHLY beloved. Kuuga is good if you really like monster of the week shows, Ryuki is more for you "overarching story driven" types. Ryuki is a bit more silly in places than Kuuga, but largely maintains a serious tone. Hibiki is very creative and experimental, but it doesn't really give you an accurate picture of what most Kamen Rider seasons are like because it is very different. BUT if you can't stand musicals do not watch Hibiki. ALSO stop watching Hibiki on ep. 29. After that there was a show runner change and the end of the show sucks. Ep.29 is largely considered a satisfying enough end to the show.
I like mature themes and concepts, but I'm fine with kids show silliness: Kamen Rider OOO, Kamen Rider Build, Kamen Rider W. If you constantly feel guilty for wanting things and taking up space, watch OOO. If you had a rough childhood and complicated feelings about your family watch W. If you want to watch a show about war, watch Build.
I love kid's shows give me silliness and fun!: Everything recommended in the second category + Kamen Rider Den-O, Kamen Rider Fourze. Den-O is a time travel story that is heavy on slapstick humor and has a lot of heart. You may have seen a a red horned guy named Momotaros dramatically swing his leg up to rest it on the bench of a booth- that's from this show. Fourze is a high school story about friendship and space!
I like to watch things that are bad but also good: Kamen Rider Blade. You can basically ignore almost the entire lore built up in the first half of the show. The writers certainly do. If you've seen people memeing on a guy named Tachibana... this is that show. This show is very easy to post about. Deeply funny but not on purpose in many places.
I want to watch one of the ones that are especially known for homoeroticism: Kamen Rider Kuuga, Kamen Rider Ryuki, Kamen Rider Blade, Kamen Rider OOO, Kamen Rider Build, Kamen Rider Faiz. Blade isn't initially very homoerotic until it very much is. Kuuga is for you if you want a more sweet and sincere vibe. OOO, Ryuki, and Build are more for if you like watching men bicker with each other homoerotically. Ryuki also contains a couple of side characters who read very much as a domestic couple (if you are big into the "loyal dog" type dynamic you will enjoy these two). Faiz is for you star-crossed lovers enjoyers that can also tolerate a stunning amount of heterosexual love drama (Blade is also a bit star-crossed). Watch Blade if you want to have a very personal grudge against a bench for the rest of your life. Kuuga and OOO are the most homoerotic.
I like weird shows where I don't know what the fuck is going on: Kamen Rider Kabuto, Kamen Rider Blade. If you watched Hannibal and were really into the way they talked and made a bunch of food, watch Kabuto.
I want something that leans more into horror: Kamen Rider Kuuga, Kamen Rider Agito. Kuuga can lean pretty hard into horror in places. Agito is a bit lighter, but still has more of a horror vibe to it.
I like mystery stories: Kamen Rider Kuuga, Kamen Rider Ryuki, Kamen Rider Agito, Kamen Rider Build, Kamen Rider W. There are other seasons with elements of mystery, but these are the ones where the mystery really takes more of a front seat. W in particular is actually a noir-inspired.
I want to watch the one with that blond curly haired Ankh guy that I keep seeing on my dash: Kamen Rider OOO
I want something that's a bit artsy and I also like or don't mind musical numbers: Kamen Rider Hibiki (eps. 1-29 only). The only Kamen Rider season where characters regularly break out into song. The sound track, editing style, and aesthetic of the show are so unique. Really strongly written. Do not watch past ep. 29 because of studio mandated changes ruining everything that made it worth watching.
I want to get a good intro to Kamen Rider: Kamen Rider W, Kamen Rider OOO, Kamen Rider Build, Kamen Rider Agito. Kamen Rider W and Kamen Rider OOO are considered great starter seasons. They give you a pretty good feel for Kamen Rider's formula while overall being pretty solid shows. Build gives you a good vibe for how Kamen Rider seasons with bigger casts feel while giving a good balance of serious and silly. It also gives you a bit of a better feel for what some more recent Kamen Rider seasons are like stylistically. Kamen Rider Agito is just a solid early Heisei show that gives you a feel for the tone of a lot of early Heisei shows WHILE also being a good starter show for you to dip your toes into the works of the infamous Toshiki Inoue. Inoue is a prolific writer of tokusatsu shows that most fans have a love/hate relationship with. He is the main writer for several Kamen Rider seasons, specials, and movies and has written several episodes even in shows that he wasn't the main writer for.
WHERE TO WATCH:
Legally: Ryuki and Kuuga (along with the original Kamen Rider from the 70's which is good cheesy fun) can be streamed on Tubi (at least in the US). If you understand Japanese and have a VPN (or are in Japan) I believe most of the seasons are on Hulu.
*I actually wouldn't recommend watching Kuuga FOR THE FIRST TIME on Tubi because the Grongi subtitles are baked in and you can't turn them off. I strongly believe that a key part of the first watch experience is not being able to understand the Grongi, as was the original intention of the show's creators. You can buy the blu-rays for Kuuga and toggle the Grongi subtitles if you really think its worth it to spend the money*
Alternative: You can watch them on most illegal streaming sites, lol. The only season I've seen where that has been an issue so far is Den-O, with the uploads being kinda wonky and partially missing.
There is... another source but I shan't link to it directly here (loose lips sink ships!) Please reach out to your nearest Kamen Rider blogger for the goods.
79 notes · View notes
Let's talk about thoughtlessness and brainlessness:
It's a broad topic, so I want to be clear that I'm not lumping the blissfully mindless in with mushin or the wannabe brainless bimbos, but there is a common thread.
See, so many of y'all aim for those spaces and then - like the dog that caught the car - have no idea what to do when you get there. You get that fleeting moment of peaceful, free, empty, or dumb and then... Whoops. Where'd that thought come from? It's a tragedy.
Now don't get me wrong, you can play with that: degradation for not even being able to not think or fractionation in the form of rapidly switching between here and nowhere - there's no shortage of options.
But think about what you're actually doing for a moment. Your brain is a finely tuned noise generator, a veritable idea generating machine that's evolved and sophisticated over a bazillion years and you're trying to make it not do, like, it's Thing. It's not trivial. Is it distracting thinking about how terribly affected you'd have be to be able to just stop thinking like that?
If you really want to be mindless and stay that way, then you've got to look at things a little differently.
People who are mindless don't just have their brains turn off. They're just doing a different kind of thing - experiencing a different kind of focus. Some folks get it through exercise or meditation. Others chase spirals. If you want to float in mindlessness then you need to give that lovely and clever brain of yours another way to be.
And since the intelligence play crowd will feel left out otherwise - I should say that that's how you get to be a silly little puddle, too, but to address that I need to put on my wholesome educator hat for a second:
People our society calls stupid or dumb are very, very seldom so. They've got the same kind of clever brains as everyone else! Most of the time - and that's the "most" of a person who habitually never says always - they're just caught up in what we decide are the wrong kind of thoughts. Maybe they missed some vital prerequisites. Maybe they really, really confidently believe that this or that line if reasoning is off limits to them. (Looking at you, shitty sexist math teachers.) Whatever the reason, even the most vapid creature is going to show you that they're quite clever and quite able to learn if you put them in an appropriate environment, and if you listen to "stupid" long enough to understand then you'll usually find they make perfect logical sense. It's just that their logic might be missing some vital pieces of information.
But how did that help you, dear reader, be a silly, giggly object? I'll tell you: you want to learn from them. Silly enlightenment isn't not having a brain; it's letting your brain wander over to play with things that don't matter. The version of that you dream up well be your own, of course: you might picture your ideal silly self replacing serious smartness with lustful daydreams and 47 palettes of makeup. Or you might see yourself fixated on what's really, truly, blissfully important to you - less valley girl, more devoted thrall. Or, well- the options are endless, as are the ways to keep yourself wherever you want to end up.
Some folks don't really have a problem with any of that, mind. They just slip into whatever headspace they wanted and their clever brains keep entertained in the background - possibly even by delighting in watching themselves tumble face first into decadence.
For the rest of us, though, what's important is that you don't despair if your first brushes with an empty head are fleeting. There's a set of skills to be learned, and if you spend a little time exploring where you want to end up and what it looks like to stay there then it can be a lot easier.
324 notes · View notes