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mywritingonlyfans · 7 months

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Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

google forms!¡ (taglist)

Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

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sargebutton · 2 months

Text

lesbian sargebonhe drabble for me and my three fans

girls under the cut (it’s about 900 words)

i wrote this just about all day after seeing a tt at about 3 am also thank you to my bestie kay for being an enabler(/j)

including: drunk logan, phone sex, sex toys

Logan drops her purse on the ground after getting home from the club. She’ll pick it up tomorrow. She turns quickly to lock the deadbolt, head still a little dizzy. Her tall boots fall into the shoe rack easily, along with her keys on accident.

“Oof,” Logan whispers to herself. Usually, she loves drinking with Jack, Oscar and Liam but… They were all super horny for their partners tonight and alcohol only made their tongues that much looser. Logan shimmies her miniskirt down her legs and throws her mesh shirt over her head and jumps into bed.

Sadly, both of her girlfriends are out of town. Dalton had to have his wedding the same time as Alex’s grandmother’s birthday meaning she had to pick. And she would have loved to have Alex and Lily on her arms but a grandmother only turns 100 once.

Not wanting to upstage Dalton by having two hot girlfriends is also there.

Speaking of… Logan is feeling that usual heat in her stomach. Alcohol does make her horny, it’s one of Lily’s favorite things to tease her for.

Laying on their bed in a bralette and panties and waiting to be fucked is usually one of her favorite hobbies.

Usually…but she’s all alone now.

Logan sighs and throws herself out of bed to grab another beer from the fridge. She absentmindedly rubs her stomach with the door open, eyes flicking through their selection.

A can of margarita ends up in her hand, along with a bottle of water. Alex would be proud of her for being responsible. She cracks open the can, taking a big swig of lime and tequila. Laying back in bed she opens up instagram and nearly instantly regrets it.

So much tan skin on display. Alex, wearing the swim shorts and matching sports bra Logan got her for her birthday. Her long willowy limbs are somehow even more bronzed. Lily is also wearing something Logan bought her which warms her heart.

And between her legs again.

Fuck it.

Logan leans over the side of the bed dizzily. Her nails hook into the box of toys under the bed and she pries the lid open with her last long fingernail. She grabs the first thing she can wrap her hand around and pulls up a small light blue vibe.

Logan gets even hotter thinking about the time Lily held it down on her clit until she squirted everywhere and Alex licked both of them clean.

Fuck it. She slides the vibe into her panties and swipes open the group chat she has with her girlfriends.

***

Lily and Alex are out at the street vendors when the voice memos start coming through.

Usually Logan will send little voice messages during the day but it’s 2 am in London now.

They’re splitting a mango sticky rice when Alex finally looks down at her phone.

“You wanna listen?” Alex asks, pulling her airpods out of the pocket of her shorts. She looks great, totally in her element. Lily can’t wait to pounce on her when they get back to the hotel. She nods.

“I miss y’all.”

Logan’s voice always takes on this syrupy Southern drawl when she’s drunk. Lily thinks it’s adorable.

“Went out with everybody tonight and of course the conversation in the Uber was about sex. I was squeezin’ my thighs together listenin’ to Liam talk about Yuki eatin’ her ass. God I want that to be me. Eat me when you get home, yeah?”

Lily’s breath hitches. Holy shit.

“I got home, so drunk ‘n so horny. And there was no strap at home. Wish y’all were here so bad. I need Alex to brush away my tears while Lily rails me. And I want y’all to switch. I wanna be so ruined just sink down into the mattress all wet and used.”

Alex gasps a little and Lily squeezes her hand.

“I want you so bad. Please come home soon.” Lily can hear her kicking her legs against the bed. She’s clearly a bit distraught. She’s whining like she usually does when she’s close. “Fuck me. We aren’t getting out of bed for at least six hours when you get back.”

“I really wanna tell her she’s being bossy but it’s really hot hearing her be needy like this,” Alex whispers.

“Don’t tease Lex.” Lily slaps her on the arm.

“She would want me to,” Alex says cheekily. “I’m sure she wants a lot of things right now.”

“Someone needs to sit on my face real soon. I’ll be so good I need it so bad darlin’. Fuck I miss your hands. Fuck.”

“You hear that?” Alex smiles, she always knows something Lily doesn’t. Lily shakes her head. “The faint hum of a vibrator.” Alex whispers in her ear and Lily feels it in her clit. She can hear it; slightly buzzing.

“We need to go back to the hotel now,” Lily says, fisting a hand into Alex’s linen shirt.

By the time they stumble into bed, sweaty and naked, Logan is long asleep. It’s okay, they can still do something for her while they wait for her to wake up.

***

Logan wakes with a throbbing in her head and cum dried on her inner thighs.

She also wakes up to two videos and a text reminding her to take some painkillers.

Logan takes the pills with some water, grabs the vibe again, rolls over and presses play on the first video.

#logan sargeant #alex albon #lily muni he #fem!logan #fem!alex #drabble #f1 drabble #valpal writes

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divorcedfiddleford · 1 year

Note

i already know what the story behind the picture is but please explain it anyway we need to educate the masses

oh my god thank you for enabling me ive been thinking about this all day. regarding this post i made yesterday and this classic image (which i actually just found out was posted seven years ago today!)

basically as can be read in the post at BigFest in 2016 somebody had what i believe was a fan-made prop based on the laptop from season 2 of gravity falls. alex hirsch attended this convention and decided to type in the password to the laptop. we never learned the password in the show so lots of people were excited to find out!

a HUGE thing to note here is that journal 3 was still months away from releasing and in fact while a couple pages had been released as promotional material it was still being worked on until, like... gosh i wanna say may is when they finally started printing it? don't quote me on that though my point is that this was all taking place pre-journal 3 and, therefore, many fans were still operating under the (sensible) impression that the laptop which

had been designed by fiddleford

had been built by fiddleford

had fiddleford's name on it

said "PROPERTY OF F" on it (at this point it had been established through promo images that "F" referred to fiddleford)

was assumed to be fiddleford's by, like, four different main characters

was given to and used by fiddleford following s2e7

fiddleford presumably knew the password to

would also belong to fiddleford. right? i mean logically. logically, guys.

so when alex hirsch revealed that the password had been "STANFORD" all along, people thought that was a little bit... well

of course, a couple months later journal 3 would be published and it would say that the laptop had actually been STANFORD'S, not fiddleford's, and that he had made the password his own name. so technically i lied in my earlier post, there IS a heterosexual explanation for this, but imo it's still bullshit. like sorry i don't believe for a fucking second that stanford "i need to encode all of my messages in multiple ciphers and write in invisible ink" pines would ever make a password as simple as his own name. he wouldve picked like something with six different layers of alternate meanings and also put it through atbash at the VERY least. also as i listed above there is a LOT of evidence which would support the laptop belonging to fiddleford, as opposed to ford, which has this random retcon (and like... some of the computer keys are different colors? i guess?? idk that bit was stupid) as its only supporting evidence.

my theory is that, while writing the show, alex and the other writers had intended for the laptop to belong to fiddleford, but for whatever reason, when they were writing the book, they decided to make it ford's instead. i want to make clear that i DON'T think this swap was motivated by homophobia, or as a reaction to seeing people interpret the password in a gay way. by the time that this photo was taken several promotional journal pages had been released, so it's safe to say that even if they were still adding the finishing touches to the book, it was pretty much in its final stage and in fact might have already started printing (i think the first photos we see of the book itself were posted like a week or two after bigfest). so to assume that there's a correlation there is both unfounded and extremely unlikely.

now, the stargazing scene reprint, on the other hand

#long post #gravity falls #fiddauthor #<- why the fuck not. it's midnight no one can judge me #why are you as a man making your computer password the name of the man you live alone in the woods with #sorry anon i doubt think this is what you had in mind when you said “explain it” LMAO #tales of the wild zeep #uhhh a couple other notes #1. i do not know who made the laptop prop at bigfest. i assumed it was a fan but i wasn't there i really don't know #2. i said may is when they started printing the book but i have literally no source for that #it is a guess based on when promotional photos were being posted #3. i say “fiddleford presumably knew the password to [the laptop]” and i just wanted to explain my reasoning there #basically in s2e10 fiddleford says that he “fixed” the laptop and is shown using it #we also see it at the start of the following episode being used to monitor the activity of the portal #now. i am not a computer engineer. i am mediocre with computers at best.#but based on what i have been told. when you are faced with a password screen. there are two ways to proceed #one way is to reset the computer's hard drive entirely‚ to... “erase its memory” if you will #however this would result in one being unable to access any of the information which had previously been stored there #considering that we see fiddleford using the laptop to monitor the portal's activity i believe that its files must have been intact #so we can rule out resetting as an option #the other way to proceed is by. um. knowing the password. and entering it #so THAT'S why i say that he PRESUMABLY knew the password.#now it's entirely possible that he was able to hack into the laptop or something. he is a mechanical genius and he built it after all #i'm just saying that i think it's far more likely that he just. knew the password.#which is honestly really funny and still kind of gay if you believe the whole “the laptop was actually ford's” thing #why are you as a man telling your computer password to the man you live alone in the woods with when you wont even write it in your diary #fucking apologies for this OCEAN of tags. ive done taxes all day im an adult im allowed to infodump about old hyperfixations as a treat

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fallingforel · 1 year

Text

arabella Pt. 2 - i couldn’t be more in love

masterlist

after the night out you go back and the night gets a bit smutty with alex

warnings: err smut and smoking if there is anymore please let me know and I will add them to this list.

"That does sound like a good ideaaaa" I start "There's a but coming isn't there?" "Yes. look I would love to but when these lot" gesturing with my free hand that wasn't attached to Alex. "Get plastered, you can't leave them alone I have to babysit them otherwise Matty will try some dumb shit, George will enable that dumb shit and Ross will just fall asleep, and there won't be anyone who's slightly sober to control them," I state remembering the times we've all got plastered and I wasn't there to clean up after their dumb mishaps.

Alex starts to groan from beside me "Look please, I get that they're all your best mates and all. But you could have a great time just for one night." I start to think it over and come up with a compromise. "okay how about this, we all go back, knowing them they'll be out like a light as soon as their heads hit a pillow. In deep sleep. They can take the spare bedroom they always do. and we're left with the night to ourselves." I finish ranting, then Alex starts up again. "That sounds like a great idea"

We all approach my flat pretty quickly. Everyone was silent as we approached it and walked up the stairs only resuming our talking after my front door. Meowing soon being heard "Caroline" Matty ushered her over, to which she came. Matty looking back at you while stroking her and Alex and gesturing to the cat with his head eyebrows raised as if to say "Look she is mine". I snarled at him while Alex just chuckled at our interaction finding it funny.

soon enough everyone was sat down with Alex residing on the armchair placed in the corner in front of the little window displaying my kitchen George and Ross on the sofa facing the tv but not actually watching what was on the tv (because it was turned off) Matty sat on the floor stroking my cat.

I however was in my bedroom getting out of my clothes putting on lingerie but putting a dressing gown over the top so it didn't look too suspicious, to everyone in the room.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked Alex, returning from my bedroom. "uh yeah I'll have pepsi max please" Matty said in reply "Not you ratty, I wasn't asking you I was asking Alex, fuck you very much you know where the Pepsi is, get it yourself" Matty sighed standing up from the floor putting his hands up walking into the kitchen. "no thanks y/n I'm grand." Alex said in reply to me. "suit yourself, you would be missing out on the killer juice that she makes" George starts rolling off

"y/n/n can I have a juice please," George asks. "I would make you one Georgie but it's too late to start the machine and it would wake Ms. Lambert next door she's old and fragile and needs her rest. I'll make you one in the morning George, how about that?" I state "Okay. I'd like that. be a nice hangover cure" "I second that y/n I'd like one in the morning too" Ross finally puts in. "okay anyone else?" Matty raises his hand "Of course you would. don't worry I'll make you all one, Alex you too, but I think it's time for those who are absolutely gone to go to bed the spare rooms are all set up for when you last slept here, Alex you can have the sofa if you want" "but I tho-" I give him a look as to say just go along with it "yeah that'd be great thanks"

soon the whole flat was in chaos. people coming in and out of the bathroom getting themselves sorted. and soon enough it was quiet. I went to go open the spare bedroom door to check whether the 3 men were asleep. and sure enough, I heard snoring. Going back out to where Alex now sat on the sofa in the middle.

I walked over to him straddling his lap and started kissing him furiously with passion and hunger soon pulling back for some air but not before he caught my lip in his teeth biting on it and then letting it go bouncing back to its original place. I then start to move my lips placing kisses along him starting at his jaw and slowly moving down biting a few times here and there. finally reaching his collarbone where his black t-shirt lay, I tugged it saying "This needs to go" He nodded rather quickly agreeing and tossing it to the other side of the sofa.

I then went back to kissing his chest slowly going working my way down to his navel before I start to undo his jeans slowly kissing his stomach while I peel them down a moan then comes from Alex's mouth ensuring a "y/n quick I'm on the edge" which earns a reply from me "all in good time Alex, all in good time honey" earning, a groan from his mouth.

I then do him a good favor by discarding his jeans and pulling down his boxers soon after showing his erection springing up soon I then lick along his base working my way up to his tip and licking the pre-cum off before taking his whole dick in my mouth moving it up and down, not gagging really proud of myself for that, soon earning a moan from Alex after hollowing my cheeks while moving my head up and down. "Y/n I'm close do something". so I swirled my tongue around him while looking up at him and soon I felt hot spurts go down my throat. swallowing every last bit.

I soon started to work my way back up kissing from Alex's crotch then to his navel up to his chest up his neck to his jaw to his cheek to his lips which then resulted in us in another hot passionate kiss before I started to straddle him again. Alex soon found the tie on my dressing gown and undid it and soon enough my hands left his neck so I could let the robe drop. he then left the kiss sat back and took a few seconds before he burst out "I think we should take this to the bedroom" I nodded in agreement.

his hands went to my bum and picked me up and carried me through the house with me guiding him soon enough we reached my bedroom him using his foot to open the door and he walked backward until the backs of his knees reached the bed turning us around before he placed me on the bed.

He hovered over me placing chaste kisses down my body until he reached my boob his hands found their way to my back managing to undo my bra and pulling it off me and throwing it somewhere around the room not to be cared of right now. He continued kissing my breast biting and sucking here and there. he then placed a chaste kiss again over the newly made purple mark.

he then placed chaste kisses down my body before reaching the bottom of my stomach just above where my thong lay, he then soon pulled that down and I helped discard it kicking it off my legs. he then started kissing down to where my clit was then placing a lick down my slit before finding my hole with his fingers and my clit with his tongue working together and within minutes the momentum he worked up had me releasing straight onto his fingers.

he then placed another kiss on my clit then on the outside and onto my thigh working his way back up my body again before finally placing one on my lips (this one was a bit deeper and more passionate than the others he placed a few seconds ago on my body). I could feel him going rock hard. then pulling away from me and whispering

"I need to do something about this" "Okay" I whispered back quickly turning back to my bedside table and whipping out a condom passing it to him and he put it on. and slowly but surely, he was soon lined up with my entrance and inserting himself slowly at first but my moans spurred him on to go faster both our highs soon approaching, and then finishing and disregarding the condom. Alex flipped over and laid down. we stayed like that for a few minutes before he piped up again

"come ride my face darling" and so I complied making my way up to his face with me straddling it and soon enough he was licking all throughout me. Darting his tongue in and out of me. And soon enough I was releasing again. But this time all over Alex's face.

I then went back to laying beside him cuddled up and we stayed like that all throughout the night except...I couldn't fall asleep. so I left my room in search of my dressing gown, soon finding it laying on the ground by the sofas, along with Alex's belongings which I folded up and bought to him but not before putting my dressing gown on. I then went in search of my bag which was in its usual place on the other side of the bed on the floor. I soon retrieved it taking it outside on the fire escape.

"oh!" being frightened by Matty residing there smoking a fag "What are you doing here?" I asked "Couldn't sleep too wide awake with all you OH ALEX! RIGHT THERE! YEAH! AGAIN AGAIN!" "oh piss off will you sometimes a girl needs to be pleasured," I say in reply to Matty pulling an organic cigarette out of my bag and going to light it looking up remembering that Matty had it. soon quickly finishing it off with a "Was I really that loud?" question wanting to find out from my best friend. "nah you weren't that bad to be fair I woke up to you moving to your room and all I could hear was the bed noises I then went up to get a drink and stopped right outside your door to see if you wanted one too turns out you were busy" "ohhh! nice to know I can be quiet" I state with seriousness lacing my words.

"aha yeah, I suppose so. Dunno if I would though. too hard to comprise my moans, George adam and Ross certainly know how much sex I have through the walls of our shared apartment" Matty says finishing it off with a half-hearted laugh. "all right bug, make sure you get some sleep don't want you flipping everyone off tomorrow, you're unbearable when you're running on four hours sleep" matty says coming over giving me a hug and kissing my temple and rubbing my back, the hug not lasting longer than 2 minutes but it was a well needed one between the two of us.

-MATTYS P.O.V-

Making my way back to y/n's spare bedroom after meeting each other at the windowsill, I sighed, I definitely shouldn't feel this way about her but I just do, it's not like she is forbidden but the guys and I made a pact when I was 13 that none of us would go for y/n she was off limits it was never in question that any of us would date her, especially after the fact that all of us had massive crushes on her in '02 but none of us acted on it, it would simply ruin our friendship dynamic.

entering the bedroom seeing George and Ross passed out on the bed it looked like the sofa was my only option, I would usually go into y/n's bed on a night like this but that's currently occupied . then my eye catches it, the blow-up bed y/n and I bought on a whim in case we decided that we wanted to throw a party and we had one extra guest. I grab the box and start letting it self inflate. unfortunately, this wakes up George "Matty what are you doing? its" he says pausing mid-sentence to grab his phone to check the time "Half 4 in the morning go to sleep. why are you still up anyways"

"saw y/n on the fire escape when I went out for a fag because I couldn't sleep. now I can't sleep because of her George, she's so pretty. Sometimes I wish I could just be with her." "I know you do Matty but you know the deal we made and you know us we never break pacts." It's true we've all never broken a pact, y/n included. the one we made when we were 16 when we vowed to never smoke weed without each other, that came after y/n experienced a terrible high with her ex Jonathan, safe to say he got a punching from George while y/n was with me. She never smoked without one of us again.

"look all I'm trying to say George is that maybe we should go over some of the pacts we made and see if some of them need rediscussing or not" "Look just get some sleep matty, we all need rest, lets discuss this better when we're actually not delusional" the bed being well inflated by now I hug George goodnight retrieving a blanket from the pile of junk on one side of the room. and getting some well-deserved rest.

#matty healy x reader #alex turner x reader #matty healy x y/n #alex turner x y/n #matty healy x you #alex turner x you #matty healy x oc #adam hann #ross mcdonald #matty healy #alex turner meet cute #alex turner #fanfic #fanfiction #george daniel #Spotify

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legolasghosty · 5 months

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Obviously here to formally request more cyborg AU once you're up for it >_>

Awww you're so sweet, thank you for enabling me! (Original post is here for anyone who is interested!) Basically, this is an au where cyborg tech has been introduced as a way to stop so many people from dying all the time, but people aren't always really given a choice in whether they get cybernetic implants when they're critically ill or injured.

So Ray and Julie and Carlos move to Small Town SoCal(cause I can't name things), about 3 hours south east of LA, following Rose's death. This is both as a way to have space to grieve and to get away from the super smoggy air of the big city, which contributed to Rose's illness in the first place.

Tia Victoria doesn't move with them, both because of her job and because she and Rose kind of had a fight before she passed over whether she should try the cyborg treatment that had been offered, even though it was super risky. She still calls the kids all the time though.

Julie starts to get settled in her new high school, which is pretty small. Lots of not locals though, it's not an "everybody has known everybody since birth" kind of thing.

Julie ends up reporting everything to her best friend, Flynn, who moved out of the city with her family about a year before Julie did. She lives around an hour away from Julie now. But as Julie gets to know folks at school, she realizes some of them are a bit... weird.

First off there's Carrie, who is clearly rich, but avoids talking about her family. There's definitely a parent or someone else who lives in her big, fancy house, but no one ever sees them.

Spoiler alert, it's Trevor, who is both scared of the outside world after getting pretty sick for a bit, and now has a partially cyborg windpipe. But Carrie is kind of a jerk and it's not till a bit later on that she and Julie start becoming closer cause... grief bonding.

Then you have Alex, who keeps his hood up 24/7 at school, regardless of how many times he gets in trouble for it. Most of the teachers give up and leave him alone after the first week or two, since he never takes it off and he's one of the best students in his classes. He also never eats school food, even when he forgets his own lunch.

Then there's Alex's partner, Willie, who skates basically everywhere but seems to struggle with walking sometimes. He also never puts his hair up, which always strikes Julie as odd, since she's constantly batting her own curls away from her face during school. Willie and Alex always leave school and arrive together, and neither ever mentions family in a present tense.

Next up is Reggie, a math wiz who never seems to stop smiling. He's always acting super upbeat, and ends up being the first one of the group that Julie becomes friends with, cause he starts helping her with math and she helps him with Spanish. He has a hard time with some of the sounds, and sometimes it seems like his jaw just... isn't under his own control. He'll talk sometimes about his parents, who both work full time in other towns and so aren't around much.

Finally, there's Luke, who mostly keeps to himself, except for the guys, and is always talking to himself. He also doesn't eat school food, same as Alex. But he always has nice, homemade lunches from his mom. He kinda confuses Julie, cause he's sullen and moody at school, but he lights up and becomes a totally different person whenever she sees him out with the guys.

More specifics about their injuries and tech stuff under the cut, cause it gets a bit more graphic. TW for medical malpractice stuff, some referenced past homophobia, and some transphobia. The actual anatomical stuff isn't in any real detail cause I don't know how that works mostly, but be safe! It's kinda heavy and messed up.

So as for what is actually going on here with the guys...

Alex and Luke both have super sensitive digestive tracts cause of the only semi functional artificial tissue in their organs following the street dogs thing.

None of the four boys actually consented to their cyborg surgeries. Luke's parents did technically, but he was already in the OR by the time that paperwork got signed. None of the doctors expected any of them to survive, so who cared about consent.

When they all actually pulled through, the government was like, "Oh frick we gotta sweep this under the rug, but also keep them where we can monitor them for science," so they all got somewhat forcibly moved up to Small Town SoCal. All of the parents were offered a fair amount of money to move them up there. Luke and Reggie's parents took it and moved. Willie and Alex's decided they wanted nothing to do with their kids who "weren't really people anymore." So Luke and Reggie live with their parents, while Willie and Alex essentially live in a medical facility just outside of town. There's a few other kids who live there too, since their families wouldn't move with them and they couldn't live on their own. Alex and Willie have kind of adopted Isa, Damian, Aidan, and Dizzy, filling in this older sibling roll for them that no one else will.

Alex's main issue outside of his weak digestive system is that they also tried to 'fix' his anxiety disorder while he was under. This left him with a small, metal plate on the back of his head that his hair won't grow back around, some pretty severe trauma and panic attack disorders, and this weird voice in his head that starts trying to calm him down when he's panicking. It doesn't help. It's basically like if they took one of those meditation apps and tied it to his blood pressure levels so it starts playing in his head whenever he freaks out.

Willie has two prosthetic legs, along with a fair amount of metal/circuitry in his hips and back. While they're a lot better than old prosthetic technology, the attempt to give them nerve endings mostly just means Willie is in a lot of pain all the time. Skating is easier than walking, but they can't really skate inside. Alex has also been known to just straight up carry them sometimes when it gets bad. Willie also has this old incision scar on the back of his neck. Alex is the only one he's actually told what it is. The doctors essentially tried to 'fix' his being trans by messing with part of his brain. It didn't work, obviously, but it did mess with his short term memory.

Reggie avoided super severe organ damage, but the acid in the hotdogs did a lot of damage to his facial muscles. Basically, in order to fix it, he lost a lot of mobility in his face and jaw, so he struggles to not smile at least a bit. It's not creepy, just kind of sad. Like a lot of times he's smiling but it doesn't reach his eyes kind of thing. He also basically lost his sense of smell. He also ended up cracking a couple of ribs from a combination of the hotdog accident and previous injuries, so he has a few metal ribs.

Luke has the same weak digestive system as Alex, though his is easier to manage with a mom who actually cares about him. He packs extra food to share with Alex a lot. But he also got his senses messed up, mainly his hearing. He's hard of hearing, can maybe hear about 25% of what he could before. And it gets confusing, because in trying to limit the hearing loss, the doctors messed up the part of his brain that separates between external sounds and his internal voice. So he can't always tell what is coming from outside and what is coming from inside. So he responds to things that get said around him... but no one actually said it. Hence the appearance of 'talking to himself'.

ANYWAYS NOW THAT THE HEAVY STUFF IS DONE, WE CAN HAVE SOFT BONDING!

Julie befriends Reggie first cause they help each other out in school. He's hesitant to take it outside of school cause the lab monitors them all pretty closely and he doesn't want Julie getting freaked out or mixed up in anything. Doesn't help that she's still in the early stages of grief and will flip between anger and depression at any moment.

But slowly she gets to know the other guys too and finds out about the cyborg stuff. It's quite the shock, but she adjusts faster than they expect. Maybe because she's already had her life turned upside down. She starts hanging out at Luke's after school sometimes with the rest of them. And once they start coming over to the Molinas', it's all over.

The boys all get basically adopted by Ray, and the found family is solidified. Alex and Willie start bringing over the younger kids sometimes too when they can get permission. Carlos and Aidan hit it off and start hanging out at school too.

Luke still writes a ton of lyrics, but melodies have been super hard for him since loosing most of his hearing. But he and Julie end up writing together once and then they're a team for life. She focuses on the melodies while he focuses on lyrics, and then they fine tune it together. They talk Alex and Reggie into playing some of the new songs together, like the guys used to do before the accident.

Carrie and Julie slowly develop their own friendship as well, and she gets pulled into the family eventually. She and Alex and Willie become dance buddies. Willie has a hard time dancing for a long time cause of his prosthetics, but they also really like choreographing, so Carrie and Alex will try out the ideas they have when Willie is too tired to dance.

Just ALL THE FAMILY BONDING AFTER ALL THE TRAUMA THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH!!!

Okay sorry that got VERY long and kinda dark. Probably wasn't what you had in mind. SORRY!!! I shall shut up now. Hope you're not mad!

#legolas tag #julie and the phantoms #legolas answers asks #jatp #jatp fanfic #willex #alex mercer #willie jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #reggie peters #carrie wilson #they're all messed up but it's okay #jatp cyborg au #tw medical malpractice #tw transphobia

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mythvoiced · 1 year

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len!! time for me to enable you- TELL ME ABOUT SARANG'S CONNECTIONS >:3 who is significant in her life and why and what does she think of them?? <3

@clemencetaught | FERRE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I got so excited at seeing you in my inbox that I pressed a weird keyboard shortcut and got kicked back to dash which is quite something I have no idea what happened, BUT THANK YOU FOR ENABLING ME BECAUSE, GUESS WHAT, MYUNGDAE AND NELL ARE ON THIS LIST, PLEASE HOLD---

Ahem~ This includes canon verse connections & as well as rp partner muses

The Order as a large entity is her most prominent connection, I won't go into much detail because it's just... her position in it is central aspect to her story, so I'd just be spouting wildly if I went into it again here~ BUT I NEED TO MENTION @theimpalpable 's Nae-Gil (fellow knight!!!!!!!!!!!!!) because he's fucking everything to me, they haven't gotten to interact, to establish a dynamic but he means so much to me and I love Alex so much

Sköll/Jeon Hui & Jeon San Her brothers, one you might recognise as another muse of mine, the other is her late older brother; they were a situation of Three, San was a bit older than Hui & Sarang, while Sarang was perhaps only one, two years older than Hui. San was the one she felt she could rely on in terms of a sturdy, present male figure in her life and formative years, even though he was a teenager when she was a child, he still gave her more sense of worth, of being deserving of respect than she could have asked of her parents. She looked up to him, and while she had a propensity for trying to escape the role society demanded of her in lieu of being a yangban woman, she'd actually try to 'play the part' for him, to facilitate his existence as the oldest. She was much more... content, for lack of better terms, in living that womanhood at the time, because even though San's ideals weren't too progressive (as in, he was the type to say 'it is what it is') and since child her had trusted him to want what's best for her, if he thinks perhaps it's best to play along to make sure she can stay safe and live well, she'd felt it easier to go along with it. Hui, on the other hand, was her baby. As someone with the inability to feel pain, Hui had always been a terribly accident-prone child, so he was coddled by the family, Sarang included. She felt protective of him, and since he couldn't be treated like any regular yangban son since he was a mess and couldn't be left alone according to the Jeon's, even as adults they spent most of their time with each other, she as the daughter who'd have to wait to be married, and he as the hopeless youngest. She learned a sense of belonging through him, responsibility, cameraderie. Partners in crime, sneaky siblings with a knack for lying. Her brothers were everything to her and she misses them dearly.

Black Knight/Shin Myungdae (YOU ♥) NOW I do NOT in the SLIGHTEST demand this is an actual connection, but I do need to say that meeting Myungdae has added something to Sarang's character that I couldn't have found without you. Writing her as a femme fatale was 'easy' enough with the setups I already had, but having her face off against a mysterious man with a righteous cause and so much baggage to carry around, especially as the Black Knight before getting to meet him as Myungdae on that bench? Meeting the Black Knight evoked in her this potential of... I can't quite explain it. She's an assassin, a con-artist, but that chess game against Myungdae put her in a new light for me? She seems much more fleshed out, all of a sudden, with deeper motivations, with expressions of sorrow that make me think so much more about her. His class, the way he moves, the way he handles himself, if she ever were to stumble into anything that would reveal that he's an outlaw for good reasons, there's something about getting to figure out how she reacts to Myungdae and Black Knight that is revealing something hidden deep within her. A sense of justice she can't allow herself the luxury of having, the longing of being more than a pawn not just for freedom but also because maybe she wants to be part of something bigger, something good. Maybe she wants to use her skills and fight on the right side for once. It's a very dormant thought, she can't afford looking at it and feel all the frustration that comes with not having the option to follow this path. But even beyond what I'm discovering of her, I just truly love that I get to sneak Sarang a little bit into this verse, THROUGH NELL TOO. Because it's?? It's so very HUGE, it's so incredibly well-written and developed, having any of my muses interact with it makes ME feel like I'm part of something bigger. She truly spends a lot of time thinking about Black Knight, wondering about him, what his deal is, she can't figure him out, but she'd like to.

Nell Jones (@ofgentleresolve tagging even tho it's u so i can Promo™) SAME THING here, not demanding an actual connection, you simply write such amazing characters that they INSTANTLY impact mine; Nell is dragging Sarang through the gutter for the sole reason that, even in those few replies I wrote you, she's forgetting herself. Nell has such an incredible presence, energy when Sarang gets to interact with her, that she has to constantly remind herself of the act she's putting up. It's so easy to get lost in Nell's smiles and awkward demeanour that Sarang constantly analysing it is written out on purpose to underline how hyperfocused she's forcing herself to be, to avoid slipping up and forgetting that she isn't who she's claiming to be, that she can't be allowed to be who she was before Sarang. It doesn't happen often that Sarang will forget... about Sarang. But something about Nell makes her want to. I'M NOT trying to push for anything either, this doesn't have to mean anything, it's just the effect Nell has on her~

Calixtus Orion (@uroborosymphony Lynnie ma chère~) Calista, oh god, Calista, CALISTA!! Have I mentioned -clears throat- -starry eyes- Calista? Lynnie has irreversibly blessed me by allowing me to create a connection to her Calista, this plot, this connection, the dynamic, the fact that I'm obsessed with Calista, everything here is so deep and fucking amazing, I truly lack the words to be able to describe them. She's blessed me with a catalyst, nonetheless. A desire beyond her understandable desire for freedom. Sarang sees in Calista righteous anger, even though she's not kind, even though she's a powerful bloodthirsty unhinged mass murderer and war criminal, Calista is the first in a near endless plethora of encounters to make Sarang feel something, to make Sarang feel human in her inhumanity, make her fear for her life, make her reach for something deep within herself that she does acknowledge but not allow as much outlet as she thinks she does. Yes, Sarang is angry, yes she knows she deserves better, but even that instinct has begun mellowing out, numbing with time. The Sarang we meet today is much more... alive than the Sarang prior to meeting Calista. Sarang had set out to free herself and then nearly lost herself in the drag of routine carried on for centuries. Then, Calista came, powerful, angry, beautiful, and Sarang can't get her out of her head. She's the reason Sarang's fire burns again and no matter who she's with or what she does, she can only bite as fiercely and snarl this powerfully because Calista reinvigorated it within her.

Nakamura Suki (@kamipyre Ferre?? OMG Ferre~ it's you~ ♥) Another God-Tier character design that impacted Sarang two seconds after meeting her. It's violently implied, but did you know that Sarang doesn't have friends? That Sarang never had female friends? That Sarang never got to experience the epic highs and lows of casual friendships? Suki is violently important to her as a character because she's... well, to be honest, simply because of her personality, how she presents herself. Suki drags a part of Sarang out of her that hasn't existed since... before her death? Youthful Sarang, a Sarang who liked to play harmless pranks on San and gang up on him with Hui, who'd get scolded for getting dirty in the internal gardens, who's always been bad-ish at singing but enjoyed doing it in secret just because she was told it was a ginseng thing to do and a yangban lady should not favour the arts (she doesn't, but yknow). Suki makes her... young, energetic. Like she might be allowed to have fun.

Lee Hyuk (@jeoseungsaja ALEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) Here is where Sarang truly gets to shine as the brat she's secretly capable of being. This connection, minute as it may be, AND OBVIOUSLY doesn't have to be official, he simply has impacted her, sticks to my brain like Glue™. Not only because I'm a huge hyurick fan and the idea that I get to interact with both involved parties in this very painful Black Knight verse via the same character, meaning Sarang has met both figures in this fantastic ship that has me glance through the window at you guys just sort of choking on how amazing y'all are, but Hyuk as a whole is completely unlike any personality type Sarang makes herself actively interact with over and over again. She puts up a lot of acts, but when it comes down to it, some just... tire her out. If she were forced to butt heads with Hyuk, she'd probably grow tired of it pretty fast. Truth is, though, she doesn't have to. She just likes messing with him. He's an interesting fella with the most stubbornly kept frown in the entire world, poking and prodding at him to see what might make him burst is fun. Going up to him to mess with his day is like... going to the beach on a day off. It's relaxing and fun. I'm so sorry Hyuk.

Amelia Sinclair (@astremourante Ami I lub you SO SO SO SO SO MUCH) Amelia is... -lies down on the floor- how will I ever be able to explain my feelings for her. Sarang and Amelia are... they're not exactly alike, but they have quite a few things in common that makes it violently interesting to see them face each other. The coping mechanisms, the being made into a weapon, the lack of female agency, the lack of escape, the using charm and physical promises to further goals, the violence. At the same time, though, their backgrounds are very different. Amelia did not have a SINGLE GOOD DAY in her childhood GODDAMMIT AMI; Sarang had been forced into fulfilling Womanhood in a way demanded of her during Joseon but she's never been... abused. Perhaps made to feel slightly lesser, or scolded with cold detachment, but she had a support group nonetheless, she had her older brother as pseudo-father figure, her pain starts when she's effectively an adult. Their trauma is violently different and as such, it impacts them differently, too. So, while they use similar social and actual weapons to fulfil the roles imposed on them, there's no actual guarantee that they'd understand each other as well as Sarang feels they might. There's chemistry here, if I may say that~ but there's also a fundamental misunderstanding on Sarang's part that she's figured Amelia out, or partly at least, that they're very much alike, that now she's just got to figure out who's going to win this game. She underestimates not Amelia herself, but the pain she went through, effectively fooled by how much work Amelia puts into not letting anyone see it. This makes this connection so very fking interesting because Sarang could learn something here, and also because I can't WAIT to see what Amelia's reactions to all this will be, I am obsessed with that woman oh god.

AND.... UH YEAH THIS POST IS GETTING LONG and I think I've covered connections/plots/threads I feel are deep enough that I'm allowed to yell about them, so.... thank you Ferre ♥

#;ooc #clemencetaught #I LOVE that url SO MUCH????? it's SO GOOD Ferre wtHEck #the success;about #uroborosymphony #astremourante #jeoseungsaja #pardon for tagging y'all but ♥♥♥#;answered

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makin-cute-simmays · 7 months

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about me - simblr edition

(I got tagged!!) Hold on while I go be awkward & dramatic for a moment off stage!!

I was tagged by @simmysunset to do this, so here are my Mods enabled answers!

your 3 traits: music lover, makeup lover, moonchild

your aspiration: Occult Purveyor of Potions or Location. It goes back & forth if I'm honest

in-game world you'd live in: Granite Falls

favorite townie(s): The Goth babies. I will forever Stan Cass & Alex.

most used pack(s): grunge revival, city living, get famous, fitness & laundry day.

favorite decor object (no cc): The modular bookcases. Reading is FUNDAMENTAL!

something you want in the game: In CAS - I want a search bar. Let me search for the creator I want in the category I'm already in. Did I click on face paint? Let me search Northern Siberia Winds! You clearly can it *looks at build mode with envy*

I want the ability to backfill a WORKING family tree. How can I be immersive if there is no one there? (Maybe it's Maybelline, maybe it's my undiagnosed aspie brain)

More than 5 outfits per type. I there are others out here with more CC than me screaming about how much time they have to spend in CAS to change up the outfits. Default the days to take longer. Yes I can do it all by myself but rn I'm kinda nervous to tweak anything. If they don't want to give us more than 5 outfits per category then let US create and save our own styled looks.

Functional Cars. Functional Apartments. Functional Hotels.

FUCKING FIX DINING OUT!!!!! Stop being lazy asses and making the modding community hold your game on THEIR shoulders. Or at least when you release things that are going to break MAJOR MODS (our poor baking community is strugglin y'all) Maybe, oh IDK ask them if they want an early access to start fiddling with codes.

Give us cool new worlds based on NOT cites in the US. We've had Shang Simla & Champs Les Sim. Can we please have more? Or hell give us 2 bare bones CAW's back. There are builders I would make it rain $$ on if I could get an entire world by them!!

Maybe I should change one of my traits to needy or high maintenance after that list that was literally just stuff off the top of my head. I will see myself out now. Thanks

what colour is your plumbob right now: Yellow because my sleep is dangerously red but I think I fixed my game w/o wiping everything & starting from scratch. Never underestimate a woman & her caffeine to save a shopping habit that happens to cost nada. kthxbyefr!

Oh yea! I need to tag others! @cinamun fer sure! @hopefulsimmer , @bankmybills & @bellagothgf

#simblr #about me #tag game #ts4 simblr

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floating-in-the-blue · 1 year

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I posted 6,185 times in 2022

81 posts created (1%)

6,104 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bethanyactually

@tired-eyes-cold-as-ice

@unpretty

@innytoes

@jonairadreaming

I tagged 4,043 of my posts in 2022

Only 35% of my posts had no tags

#phantomfloat - 548 posts

#artfloat - 347 posts

#best gay ghosts - 192 posts

#writingfloat - 174 posts

#fanficfloat - 169 posts

#tumblrfloat - 145 posts

#catfloat - 133 posts

#hellhome - 132 posts

#trekfloat - 117 posts

#metalfloat - 115 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but i guess you don't think of people writing dark fic or whatever as actual people so...their deaths wouldn't trouble your precious morals

My Top Posts in 2022:

“Hot dog?” The kitten jumped up again and meowed loudly. Willie on the other hand was suddenly sitting down. “Alex? Is … is that you?” The kitten meowed loudly once again and headbutted Willie’s shin. “You’re … you’re a cat.” As the kitten tilted its head and stared at him, eyes narrowing, hysterical laughter bubbled out of Willie. “Okay, yeah, that’s you. Definitely.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.” Alex the kitten meowed his agreement.

Kitten fic is finally here! I'm probably going to post the second and final chapter soonish too but I really, really ought to do the dishes now (and some other chores ... yay) so I'm just throwing this out here.

Thanks eternal to @merihn for being my first enabler and first reader, aka beta on this, to @innytoes for being excited about the idea and drawing amazing fanart that finally kicked my butt into writing this, and to @chanihobbit for cheering me on. You guys are amazing 😻😻😻

28 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

Give me a 5 sentence Snake/Otacon AU where one is an cryptid please!

"Wait, I can explain."

Snake winces at the throaty growl of his voice - it's been a while since he's talked to anyone other than his dogs - but then tries to school his features into a harmless, open expression and suppresses the urge to reach out to the man in front of him.

The man takes a step back anyway - so much for appearing friendly.

Mentally, Snake is already compiling lists of things to pack, how quickly he can get his dogs settled and harnessed and he absolutely refuses to get distracted by the familiar weight of sadness creeping in at the thought of losing even this last connection to humanity - his email friendship with a man who was never supposed to find him in the middle of Alaska.

But then Otacon smiles and it's not a nervous smile or even a sympathetic smile, it's a smile full of enthusiasm and awe that only gets brighter when he reaches up and wipes the mist off his glasses, pushing them back up the slippery slope of his nose and takes in all of Snake.

"This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!"

Thank you, hunny!! God it's been a while since I wrote these two disasters. I couldn't decide what kind of cryptid Snake would be so I'm leaving that up to you. I hope you like this (even though it's six sentences ... shhhhh)

40 notes - Posted February 15, 2022

Please be more careful about accidentally stealing tags, especially on reblogging original art posts!

I know tumblr is a trashfire and there's issues with the app and accidental tag stealing. I operate on a 'good faith' interpretation system. But while copied tags are vaguely weird when it's 'normal' tags, annoying when it's very personal tags, hilarious when it's a personal tagging system suddenly appearing on a different blog, it's just plain wrong when you reblog original art from the op and tags like 'my art' or 'I drew a thing' are copied over!

Sure, every dolt with half a brain will probably be able to figure out it wasn't your original art if you reblogged it but as we all know, this site unfortunately has too many dolts with less brain than that.

(edit: I've been informed that the iOS glitch means you can't see if the tags get copied before you hit reblog, which sucks majorly. But if you use that app, maybe just form a habit of checking your blog every now and then to see if anything got copied over you didn't want to get copied or give blanket permission to people to point those posts out for you)

So.

Please be vigilant to NOT EVER copy tags like 'my art,' 'my writing' etc.

45 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

Can you imagine all the dramatic fights Emily and Luke would have over the scraps of paper he leaves in his laundry? Emily complaining about all the paper fluff she had to pick off her laundry and Luke wailing about all the lyrics he's lost?

Anyway, this post is sponsored by the shopping list I forgot in the back pocket of my jeans ...

53 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It's worth it sometimes, you guys. I just got a comment on a five year old fic and I'm ready to cry:

"i thought of this fic again and had to come back and leave a comment on how impactful it has been to me. [...]"

This was not a person who had commented on this fic before. So, to me, this was a new reader but their comment makes it clear that they didn't just read the story and liked it but that they've read it before and it stayed with them. Which is really the highest praise I can think of.

So for anyone thinking about deleting a fic or orphaning it: don't. You take your chance away of getting a comment like this at some point down the road.

204 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #my 2022 tumblr year in review #yeo tumbles #tumblrfloat

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ruthiesrambles2 · 2 years

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Well come on then...

002 for MelRuth (looking forward to the essay that will come out of this)

Hello anon I love you for this and I love this for me, thanks for enabling me 😘😘

When I started shipping them: after watching season 3 I came to AO3 in search of more Brakenight and was shocked to discover MelRuth was a thing. So I rewatched from s1 again. Excuse to wear your furs caught my eye but See You Around caught my soul and it has been a slow descent into madness ever since. So... April maybe? Feels like a lifetime haha

My thoughts: No thoughts only MelRuth! Ha. I really flip flop on the nature of them. I absolutely adore the idea of Ruth pining after Melanie the whole time, maybe they've had flings but nothing serious, they're friends until Ruth learns the truth and her heart breaks. But I also concurrently headcanon that they did have a relationship, some time between the bees and the start of S1. They broke up but obviously there's still feelings there. And after seven years on the train they've learned how to work together even despite those feelings. The See You Around scene is everything tbh. Melanie realising love is important after all, but Ruth is just too hurt. So hurt in fact that she had been willing to let her die at one point! But she does try to delay it, asking for a trial, and I believe she had a hand in Melanie's escape with Javi and Jinju. By the time Melanie goes to Breslauer, Ruth is having a big internal conflict because she's still SO angry but also Melanie might go away forever. When she agrees to look after Alex, she's cursing herself for not being able to forgive sooner. Saying yes is saying I love you. And the longer she is away, the more Ruth realises she still loves and needs her, after all she always has "melanie on her mind" and she can "feel her out there". But then Melanie is gone, and probably dead, and the train and its people need her. And she needs someone to make her happy (enter Mr Pike). Melanie coming back is a massive emotional shock, and the two struggle to reconcile. But the love and care is still there ("I'm not going to let you go alone am I"). Until Melanie suggests working with Wilford. And after everything... Ruth can't deal with that. At the end of the war, she wants to stay, oh god she wants to stay. But she promised to look after Alex, once, and she intends to fulfil that promise. I love you too much to stay... Okay this descended into headcanon a bit but I am feral for them and the tiny glances between them and idc what you say Melruth is real if I believe hard enough 😂

What makes me happy about them: THE PINING, the little touches, the glances, the Wilford Pin, the fact I would let either of them freeze off all my limbs.

What makes me sad about them: Ben. They never said a proper goodbye (or welcome back from the dead). THE PINING. The fact season 4 is going to kill me.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: when Ruth is in the engine/bunk room before the Milford reveal with no explanation! Caveat that I am currently writing a few things like this because it was easier and yes I'm annoyed at myself for it!

Things I look for in fanfic: at this point just them being in the same room together. Just any and all content of them together and being vaguely nice to each other. But above all I'm here for the E rated fics 👀

My wishlist: I don't know if this is for fic or for canon. For canon I just want them to acknowledge that there was something there once even if there's not now. And a good hug would be nice🥺. For fic I NEED a 100k word romance, yesterday. But I'll also take anything elaborating on their history together, small fluffy fics, smut (always), all the angst. I need an AU where Mel went to the B&B, an AU where Ben doesn't exist... All of it please.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: after a significant amount of reflection I would have to say Mel with Ben 😭. The set up is there and she does love him and they can be sweet together. Ruth is easier though. Ruth/Boki! I've said before I just want her to learn to love herself, but if she had to end up with someone I'm committed to Ruboki now. Or The Notary as an acceptable alternative. As long as whoever it is makes her happy. Happy Ruth is EVERYTHING.

My happily ever after for them: this post sums it up. Or you know, in twenty years time they are old and grey in a cabin in the newly terraformed warm spot and Melanie is digging in the garden and Ruth comes and puts her arms around her because she's about to go to a council meeting where Alex is the president of the new world, or something.

#is this enough of an essay for you?#melruth #melanie x ruth #melanie cavill #ruth wardell #snowpiercer tv

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ofgentleresolve-a · 2 years

Text

in another place || au starter ( ft. @jeoseungsaja )

Plans are bound to go awry. It’s the one thing he’s found consistently in the five years he’s been in this line of work: have a plan going in and have two more in advance to accommodate for any WRENCHES thrown in.

However, this might just be the biggest wrench of them all. And from the moment it ( he ) reveals itself, Myungdae knows two alternatives aren’t going to be enough. The wrench is not going to fix itself either. Patrick Grace, by all intentions, is dead; Disappeared five years ago without a trace, never to be seen again. He’s been replaced by the Black Knight and Shin Myungdae. All in all, Patrick Grace was buried a long time ago.

But what happens if there’s someone who can see through both facades?

The office his dear friend has taken up is rundown. Dilapidated. There’s only one security camera for the entrance too, which has Patrick concerned- has Hyuk developed any sense of self-preservation in these five years? Because clearly, combined with the fact he’s been tailing the Black Knight and clawing his way in to the outer rim of ANACHRON’s attention, he hasn’t. At all.

But it does make slipping into his office easy. Patrick’s not about to let five years’ worth of SECRECY go down the drain; he’s given up five years to make sure his loved ones don’t suffer an ending similar to Felicity’s. The last thing he needs is Hyuk, who is very much included in this category, butting his way into this and ruining that.

So when his dear friend finally enters the back room of his office and shuts the door behind him, Patrick makes his presence known. Darting out of the shadows, Patrick grabs his dear friend by the front of his shirt and slam him against the wall- hard enough to make a sound, but not enough to hurt him. It’s the first time Patrick has seen Hyuk up close in years. He looks tired. Haggard, like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in well, years. Patrick lets out a sharp sigh. Dammit. He forces himself to look at the wall behind Hyuk- he can’t bring himself to look him in the eye. Otherwise, he might just lose his RESOLVE.

“Hand over your findings.” He says, voice icy. His voice modulator hides his voice with the voice of the Black Knight. The hand around Hyuk’s shirt tightens as does the hand around his sword. “Whatever business you think you have, you don’t. Stay out of it- this is for YOUR OWN GOOD.”

#jeoseungsaja #( threads: patrick. )#( verse: a knight is never without their sword. )#worlds that are drawn to each other ( interactions. )#well he got.....edgy 2day sjdkfljsdlkfj #me watching the drama and crunching on some popcorn....#it's very crunchy i will say #but oh god patrick's pissed #he didn't spend five years in hiding for hyuk to do this ://#patrick: *aggressively cares in this verse so he feels the force is necessary...:/*#but also the fact that five years later and patrick is STILL CONCERNED for hyuk's wellbeing has me ;-;#but also AHHHHHHH yells bc now there's pain with wholesome friends and my heart both screamed and cried when i wrote this #me: hey maybe we should just chill first i mean you are supposed to be the levelheaded one here #patrick: that is out of the question #anyways!! alex!! thank you for liking the starter call!!#as u can see i've written a novella again bc patrick had a lot to say. about hyuk as usual ;-;#if any of this doesn't sit right with you please do let me know!! and i'll change it!!#also ur comments made me smile!! :D thank you so much for them and for being a wonderful writing partner ( and also enabling me #on this thread ;-; )#PLEASE HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!!! <3 #jeoseungsaja ( ft. lee hyuk )

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innytoes · 2 years

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very happy to (hopefully) enable you to write more chaotic gay guys so how about "Willex + I needed a fake boyfriend for a sec but I didn't know you're actually kinda famous and now reporters are asking us uncomfortable questions"? <3

They were out 'incognito' as Reggie called it, which really boiled down to wearing things they usually didn't, plus sunglasses, and ducking out the side door of the hotel because Reggie made friends with the wait staff wherever they went and they let them escape through the kitchen.

"This is fool proof," Reggie said, beaming in a yellow smiley face sweater he stole off Julie and a pair of shorts that belonged to Alex. His hair wasn't in its usual perfectly imperfect style, flopping over his forehead and onto the reflective orange sunglasses. Alex fidgeted in Luke's Flannel Of Sadness, Reggie's black shirt pulled tight over his chest. He'd shoved Luke's grey beanie over his hair, since that was usually something the paparazzi noticed. "And so worth it, I've been dying to get something other than fancy hotel food."

"I swear to god if you dragged me out here to get a McMuffin I'm murdering you in this alley," Alex said, peering out to see if the coast was clear because casually, very casually walking out. Reggie skipped along, beaming.

"No, dude, there's this cute little coffee shop that has great reviews a few blocks away." Reggie showed him his phone. "They make cookies shaped like corgis."

Okay, those were pretty cute. "Fine."

The café was charming, with pastel colours and lots of food shaped like cute things and fun and interesting sounding drinks. Nobody seemed to have followed them, so they took a seat at one of the tables and just... let themselves be themselves for a while. Snarking, joking, not worrying about whatever they said being spread across the entire internet the next day. (Reggie did take some cute pictures of their food to post once they got to their next stop on the tour, because this place deserved the shout out once they were free and clear.)

"Hey babe, sorry I'm late," a voice behind him said, before someone slid in next to him on the bench, pressing close.

"Uuuum," Alex said, voice squeaking embarrassingly high at the arm around his waist. "I think-"

"Please play along and pretend to be my boyfriend for like five seconds, this guy won't leave me alone and he's followed me into two other places already," the voice said quietly into his ear. Reggie bit his lip, looking behind them, clearly assessing how much of a threat this guy was.

"Hey, you made it!" he said brightly, before leaning over. "Alex, if you don't want to be the fake boyfriend, I will, that dude over there looks shady as fuck." Alex turned a little, looking at the guy on the bench.

Oh. He was beautiful. Long hair, tanned skin, and gorgeous brown eyes. "Fuck off, Reg, you already have a boyfriend and a girlfriend, stop being greedy," he said, flushing and leaning over to press a chaste kiss against the guy's cheek.

"Hi, gorgeous," Alex said louder, so the people around them could hear. The pet name felt a bit embarrassing, but well, the guy really was gorgeous. "I missed you." He couldn't take his eyes off the stranger, especially when he smiled a wide, pleased smile. They made lovey-dovey small-talk until Reggie said the guy had left, and the stranger slumped against him.

"Thank you so much," he said. "I'm Willie."

"Alex," he said, trying not to think about how Willie's hand was still around his waist, how Willie was still pressed against him.

“Reggie,” Reggie said, getting up. “You want a drink, Willie? Our treat.” He gave Alex an unsubtle wink, and he flushed. Willie either didn’t seem to notice or was nice enough not to say anything about it, and asked Reggie for a boba. He disappeared towards the counter, and the guy turned to him again.

“Really, thanks. I was getting a little freaked out when he wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I didn’t have my board on me to make a quick escape.”

“You skateboard?” Alex asked, and he tried not to be mesmerized by the wide grin as Willie told him about it. They fell into an easy conversation, even with Reggie trying to talk Alex up like the world’s most earnest but unsubtle wingman. Willie didn’t seem to mind, though, smiling at Alex and flirting with him as if they actually were boyfriends. Willie was funny, and cool, and really interesting, and he seemed equally interested in what Alex (and Reggie) had to say. It was pretty much the best thing that had happened to Alex all year.

Or it was. They’d reluctantly had to go to get to sound check on time (Reggie hurrying back to the counter to buy a box full of cute-shaped cookies), and he and Willie had exchanged numbers. But when they came outside, they were swarmed with reporters, shouting questions at them. Specifically, questions about Alex’ Secret Relationship.

“So much for your fool-proof plan,” he hissed at Reggie, who looked sheepish. He turned to Willie to apologize, and the guy stared at him, wide-eyed, before turning to reporters with what could only be described as a gleeful, slightly manic grin.

“One at a time, please!” he called, and the reporters seemed a little surprised. Usually when Alex was swarmed with paparazzi, he just kept his head down and powerwalked away.

“How long have you been dating?” one woman asked.

“Forty-six years!” Willie beamed.

“Alex, why did you keep your relationship a secret when you’re such an outspoken advocate for the LGBTQ community?”

“So you guys wouldn’t crash out dates like you’re doing now, asshole,” Willie said, stepping slightly in front of Alex. He grabbed his hand, and Alex squeezed it back, not sure what to make of this, but not sure how to stop him either.

“What’s your name?” Another one asked.

“Throckmorton von Beaverhausen,” Willie said with the utmost confidence. Reggie was trying to hide a grin, like the idea of just lying to reporters tickled him pink. It probably did. Alex would have to give Flynn a heads up she had to sit Reggie down and tell him he was not allowed to mess with reporters. “Now, are you going to ask us how our date was? This place has the best boba I’ve ever had, along with the cutest cookies in the world. Show ‘em, Reg!”

Reggie beamed and opened the box, chattering about how nice the cupcakes were too, giving the lady behind the counter a big thumbs up through the window. She waved back, a little in shock.

“Now, we really have to get where we’re going so we still have time to make out beforehand, if you’ll excuse us!” Willie said, pulling Alex along with him as he broke through the crowd and hailing a cab, hustling both of them inside. Once the cab had left the reporters in the dust, he turned to Alex.

“Okay, so first off, what the hell are you guys famous for?” he asked.

“Um, we’re in a band. Julie and the Phantoms?” Alex said, a little embarrassed, and highly uncomfortable at being squished in the middle seat.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie piped up. “Alex is the drummer, I play bass.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve heard your songs on the radio. They’re a bop.” Willie nodded in approval, and Alex felt his stomach flutter a little. He liked their music!

“You... you said first of all,” he said after a moment, when Willie didn’t continue. He was still holding Alex’ hand. “Is there a second of all?”

“Yeah,” Willie said. “Where the hell are we going? Because I just told the cabbie to drive like we were in an action movie and while I don’t think he minds if he just cruise around town all day, he might need an address.” The cab driver shrugged, and Alex awkwardly gave him the address to the venue they were playing at. They were going to be so late, Luke was going to kill them. Julie was going to kill them. Hell, Flynn was going to kill them too.

Except when they got to the venue, they found Luke and Julie and Flynn sat in the front row of the audience, crowded around a phone. “Well hi there, Throckmorton!” Flynn called.

“You better have saved some of those cookies for us, Reggie,” Luke threatened, beaming when he was given a sloth and a kiss on the cheek. Reggie followed up by giving Julie a unicorn (and a kiss), and Flynn a dinosaur (and a fistbump).

“So, anyone want to explain what the hell just happened?” Julie asked, cheerfully nibbling the horn off her unicorn cookie.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Alex admitted. But when he looked at Willie, who was still holding his hand, eyes sparkling, he was pretty sure it didn’t matter.

#julie and the phantoms #I wrote a thing #willex #willie throckmorton #alex mercer #fanfic #this is so long #AUs are awesome #Willie becomes a meme overnight #and he and Alex start dating for real #and Flynn is just like: you know what we're hiring Willie as our roadie/bodyguard/anti-PR person #and they all live happily ever after #and then one day on some late night show someone asks how Alex and Willie met and they tell the truth #and nobody believes them because Willie has been chaotically messing with the paparazzi for ten years

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

i cannot stop thinking about tma hell's kitchen au

(@f0xesand0wls thank you for enabling me)

- elias is the head chef, and peter and gertrude are his sous chefs. there are 20 total chefs in the competition: red team: jon, tim, georgie, daisy, naomi, agnes, gerry, jordan, helen/michael, oliver blue team: martin, sasha, melanie, basira, mike, jude, julia, jared, jane, manuela

- the black jackets are jon, martin, tim, sasha, georgie, and melanie, and the finalists are jon and martin. the winner is probably martin, but it doesn't really matter, because the actual plot of this is a jonmartin rivals-to-friends-to-lovers slowburn

- annabelle is the one who puts all of the film and audio together at the end. jmart watch the show once it's put on television and go 'what the fuck i didn't say any of that' because that's how reality tv is babey

- martin is one of those chefs who does poorly at the beginning but gets better and ends up in the final two. even though he's not on the same team as jon, jon is like 'this guy sucks' and maybe martin messes something up for jon early on and jon decides he does not like martin.

- jon is so nervous that he's going to screw up and get sent home early (he doesn't have formal culinary training and feels deeply underqualified) so he's very stiff and overly professional at the beginning. he relaxes over time as he becomes more confident in his own cooking and as he does well at challenges and dinner services.

- somewhere around chapter/episode 5, martin tells jon that he doesn't have any formal culinary training and that he said he did in order to get into the restaurant job he had prior to coming on the show. he's been cooking for his mother since he was ten though, and jon surprises himself by saying that that's a lot more impressive than studying technique in france or something. that's the catalyst of their transition from rivals into friends

- somewhere around episode 8, jude (who got switched to the red team a few episodes prior) gets eliminated, but on the dinner service before she does, there's an incident in the kitchen and jon's hand gets burnt pretty badly (not so badly that he has to go home, and he fights through the rest of dinner service because of course he does). he insists he doesn't have to go to the hospital for it, and elias reluctantly agrees and has the medic look at it. in the dorms later, martin helps jon unwrap it and put more burn cream on it and change the bandages and... yeah <3

- daisy and jon do not get along at first, and daisy actually tries to sabotage jon early in the season/fic. jon nearly gets eliminated because of it and he is not happy. then, a good few episodes later, the red team wins a challenge and they go on some sort of outdoorsy award and something happens and jon saves daisy from getting seriously injured. they're on better terms after that.

- when jon, tim, sasha, martin, melanie, and georgie get black jackets, elias (like every actual season of hell's kitchen) brings their family members/friends in for them to see. jon gets his grandmother, tim his brother, sasha her mother, georgie her best friend alex, and melanie some of her ghosthunt uk (the restaurant) friends. the only person martin has is his mother, and they tell him that she was too sick to come, but he can't shake the feeling that she just didn't want to. she didn't even agree to make him a video. it's a very awkward affair, and after the challenge (which tim wins) jon stands by martin while they're... idk, peeling 200 pounds of potatoes or something and they talk about it and they talk about a lot of their personal lives. for most of the competition, they're very aware that they're on camera at all times, but jon decides that being there for martin is more important than worrying about that.

- jon wins the next black jacket challenge and, when asked who he wants to invite on the reward, invites martin. they get to go wine tasting in a beautiful vinyard together and then they get some time to sit in the vinyard and just relax. martin probably realized he had a crush on jon around... episode/chapter 8? pretty soon after his admission that he doesn't have formal training. this episode is when jon realizes that he has a crush on martin, and the wine tasting suddenly seems very romantic and he gets very flustered. martin just thinks he's getting nervous since they're getting closer to the end of the competition.

- it's martin and jon in the finals. martin has tim, melanie, basira, and agnes on his bridage and jon has sasha, georgie, daisy, and gerry. in the middle of the entrees, something goes very wrong in martin's kitchen (not because of martin, because agnes burns like... ten racks of lamb or something ridiculous like that) and it looks like martin might not even be able to finish and he's freaking out just a little bit, so jon does something incredibly stupid and tells sasha to take charge of the kitchen for a moment and goes over into the other kitchen and pulls martin aside and takes martin's hands in his and is like 'it's okay, you're okay, everything's going to be okay. you're extremely talented and an amazing chef and an amazing person and i love you and this is not your fault and you're going to go back out there and get things back on track.'

jon goes back to his kitchen, elias yelling at him the whole way, and martin kicks agnes out and gets his kitchen back under control and they have no other issues that night. and martin's brain completely skips over the 'i love you' until the end of service, when the adrenaline wears off and they start to clear down and jon gives him this smile and suddenly martin remembers and he's like 'oh fuck'

but jon doesn't say anything about it so martin assumes he hadn't meant to say it, because of course he didn't, because they're competing for a job and $250,000 and he probably just heard jon wrong or something. jon probably said 'i love your cooking' and martin's just being stupid and letting his crush get away from him. so they both go back and sit in the dorms and wait for elias to call them up to his office. meanwhile, jon also remembers that he accidentally let i love you slip and he's having a bit of a crisis about it because on the one hand he meant it, but on the other hand he should not have said it then and martin hasn't said anything, so maybe he didn't even hear.

still, martin needs to thank jon. so he's eventually like 'thank you for what you did back there. i don't think i would have made it through service without what you said.' then, after a moment, because it is a competition: 'why did you help me? you could have let me drown and you'd have a secure win'

and jon just shrugs and says, 'because you needed help, and i... i care about you. i didn't want to see you fail. you are a good chef, martin, and i... i know you deserve this job just as much as me. you can go work at elias's restaurant and i can go back to mine and... and that'll be okay, if that's what happens'

and martin realizes suddenly that jon lives across the country from him normally and he doesn't know if he'll be able to see jon after this (chefs are busy people, after all, not a lot of time for family and such) and before he can really think about it he's like 'i wouldn't be okay with that' and then when jon just looks at him he clarifies, 'i... i don't want to just go back to living in [washington?], working all day and coming home to an empty apartment, and you'll go back to [new york?] and i... will i even see you again? because it's been so nice, being here, being with you, and i want to see you again, jon. every day.' he hesitates a moment, then decides fuck it, if i'm wrong, at least i'll only be embarrassed for a little while longer and says, 'what you said during service. did you mean it?'

and jon, tentatively, is like, 'that you're a good chef? yes, martin, i meant it, of course i did' and martin's like 'no, the... the other thing you said. right in the middle of it all. i- i don't know if i heard you right, and i just... i need to know if you meant it'

and it would be easy for jon to say no, to pretend like he didn't. but instead, he sits next to martin on the couch and takes martin's hand in his and nods and says, 'i... i've meant it for quite some time, i think' and he smiles at martin, a little bit shy, and martin's overwhelmed with affection and he reaches for jon's face, leans forward, and--

and the phone rings. unfortunately. because elias made a decision

- martin's door opens and jon's doesn't. jon thinks he should feel crushed, and he does feel disappointed, but mostly he's just so, so happy for martin. martin is stunned, and tim and sasha and georgie and melanie and basira and daisy are waiting for him below to congratulate him. martin's stuck in a round of thank yous when he turns and sees jon, who's run down the stairs to join the celebration and is looking at martin with those same eyes he would get when he was determined to win a challenge or finish a dish that needed two more minutes in one minute. and then jon just hugs martin, so tightly martin can barely breathe, and he mumbles into martin's neck, 'i would very much like to kiss you, but i very much do not want our first kiss to be on national television' and martin laughs and hugs jon tightly in return and mumbles back, 'i love you too, jon. just in case it wasn't obvious' and even though jon just lost, he's never been happier

- (they watch the show when it comes out together half a year later, in the little bit of free time they have around running their own respective restaurants, and they spend the whole time picking it apart

jon: okay i did not say that, where did they even get that from??

martin: god do i really look like that from behind...

jon: oh christ. martin, i- i think they thought i wanted to have sex with you. ugh, they've put on weird romantic music. red lighting. i hate this. i clearly did not--no, martin, don't give me that look, you know what i mean.

martin: wow, this makes us look like terrible chefs

and, at the end:

jon: christ, of course they were recording us in the dorms after the last service. this is a cooking competition, not a romance.

martin: eh, it was a bit of a romance.

jon: hush, i'm trying to watch. they're about to announce the winner. i don't have much hope for this chef martin; after all, he did burn that risotto back in episode 2--

martin, trying not to laugh while he glares at jon: oh my god jon let it go)

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #i have so many aus already rolling around in my head begging to be written but 👀#have another incredibly obscure one relevant solely to my own interests lol #my fic #my writing #basically lol this is... a lot

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