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#and i've been wanting to try this for a long time
vhsgoghs · 2 days
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mask (Simon Riley one shot)
Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader
Summary: you see him without a mask for first time note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes. ★ masterlist here
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She remembered that it was a Friday due to fatigue. She had worked late and had helped Price with some things that didn't specifically concern her, but she wasn't planning leaving him alone.
When returned to her room, she was exhausted; her eyes narrowed as she tried to walk without bumping into anything. For some unknown reason, her body was hurting more than usual lately, she had been trying to sleep at her usual time and not disturb her sleeping schedule, but nothing seemed to work.
The hallways were dark, but she could always see in the dark the small stickers she had put on her door to differentiate it from the others. It sounded stupid for an adult and a soldier, but she liked it and, after high school, she hadn't let any comments get to her too much. Plus, it had worked to avoid getting the wrong room in her first days there.
However, that night her mind didn't seem to work and the stickers on her door were not completely visible, so she ended up entering the wrong room.
She frowned when noticed that everything was dark; she always left a small light on, otherwise she would end up bumping into something.
She then realized it: when her arm reached out to search for the switch and the lights finally came on: she saw that it wasn't her room.
Her gaze drifted towards the bed, her eyes narrowed in confusion as she didn't recognize the person who owned the room, until her mind began to work and she realized… it was Simon. It was Simon without his mask.
"I'm sorry!" She gasped in surprise and her body pushed itself out, slamming the door shut.
There was a strange feeling in her chest. It was the first time she had seen Simon without a mask, he had never acted as if wearing it depended on his life, but it was… weird.
She had once asked Soap the reason for using it, he had only responded that it was to protect his identity and emphasized the words "from the enemies, not from us", however, (Y/N) had never seen his real face, it caused her curiosity, but it wasn't something that stole her sleep.
Her mind had begun to wander and she hadn't noticed that she had stood there, in the middle of the hallway, without saying a word, until she realized the door open again. Simon's face appeared in front of her; he was frowning slightly in confusion, he looked sleepy, but strangely he didn't look… upset.
(Y/N) sighed, trying not to look into his eyes too much, he didn't have his mask, it didn't look like he wanted to go back to his room to cover his face either, he looked totally normal, maybe it was just her who gave it too much importance.
"I'm sorry," she murmured once more.
"You had the wrong room." She nodded and remained silent, waiting for something that would indicate he was upset, but he seemed calm.
She always thought that Soap had told her that because he was used to living with him, she had not arrived at the base for a long time, but she worked well with everyone, since there were not many people and thought that she had not gained his trust yet to see his real face.
"Yes, I'm leaving now." She nodded and began to walk the few steps that separate her from her room, but she had barely taken a few steps when his voice stopped her.
"Wait." She turned again to look at him. The light coming from his room managed to illuminate part of the hallway. "Did it bother you to see me?"
(Y/N) giggled and shook her head, trying to relax. Maybe it was just her exaggerating, it was strange talking to Simon without his mask, she hadn't even started calling him Simon until a couple of weeks ago. To her, he was always Lieutenant or just Ghost.
"No, it's just… It's the first time I've seen you… like this." She wanted to punch her face because of how stupid it sounded, she felt even worse when Simon raised one of his eyebrows, he felt offended? She hoped not.
"Sleepy?"
"Without mask." She rolled her eyes, as if it weren't obvious and Simon laughed, which made her feel more relaxed.
Silence reigned between them for a few seconds. (Y/N) looked at her hands a little nervous, as if she were waiting for some order from him to be able to leave, even if she wasn't on duty and didn't need his permission to leave.
"I was not hiding." Simon understood it, more than one person thought that he was simply afraid to show his face. It had never been like that, it was stupid.
"I know… You're not ugly," she murmured the last words just to herself, but it was night, everything was silent and he could hear her perfectly.
"I know." Simon smiled. It's not that he was self-centered, but himself knew that he wasn't ugly.
The girl laughed again and felt her shoulders relax. She felt calmer, although there was still something strange in her chest, which she couldn't put her name to.
"I have to go to sleep." she pointed behind her, as a sign that she was going to her room, which was a few steps away.
Simon just nodded. There was something that made him want to stop her, but he didn't, he just sighed and watched as the girl turned around to take the few steps that separated her from the door of her room.
He didn't move until the sound of the door closing echoed through the empty hallway.
(Y/N) confirmed what Soap had said a few days later: Simon wasn't hiding his identity from them. It had been the first step towards seeing his face more often, she liked to see him that way; she felt that her mind saw him as a completely real person and not just a soldier that she had to obey.
And since that night, something felt different in her chest every time she saw him without his mask.
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wondernus · 3 days
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— WHY HIM?
SYNOPSIS: armed and ready at 4am, you approach your locked front door to confront the group of loud strangers trying to break into your apartment
PAIRING: fiancé!lsm x reader
GENRE: fluff, humor
TAGS: food mention, inebriated characters, post-bachelor party, brother!hvc
WC: 1.75k
MESSAGE FROM NU: hii long time no see :3 posting a dk oneshot to let you know i'm procrastinating on my final paper draft by drafting a hefty dk soulmate au i've been thinking about writing for a while. also dedicating this fic to @wongyuseokie the la to my ma
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A perfectly peaceful Friday night goes to waste when you shoot up from your bed in a panicked state. It’s not the usual cat wanting to leave your room at five in the morning kind of scratching sound that lures you to open your bedroom door in a half-awake state. Instead, shuffling sounds out front and an insistent metal-to-metal sound, which you can only infer as someone trying to break into your apartment, cause you to become extremely vigilant.
Seokmin isn’t picking up his phone, but you keep his line ringing just in case he does. Doubtful that a pair of scissors can do as much damage to the head as a giant wok can, you head into the kitchen to pick up that giant carbon steel wok that you can never seem to fit into any of your kitchen drawers as a form of physical backup before you quietly approach your front door.
However, the fear that once overwhelms your body soon turns into a sigh of exasperation before you can even position yourself to look through the tiny peephole. You can clearly hear the familiar voices on the other side of the door and match each voice to its respective owner. Feeling relieved, you drop the wok on the cubby by the door and hang up the phone.
“Look, I opened it,” the man who was trying to open your door slurs with a dopey smile on his face. He doesn’t seem like he’s talking to anybody in particular. “I’m a fucking genius.”
Almost immediately after that statement, he falls forward and faceplants a couple centimeters away from your indoor slippers. Slumped to the side of his face is his hand that holds a small metal keychain between the thumb and index fingers. It’s a souvenir nameplate keychain from a family trip to another country a few years back whose design reads “Vernon” in all caps. You realize that the man near your feet didn’t even try opening the door with the key.
The actual owner of the set of keys lies on his left side while his entire body is propped against the bushes in front of your place. His legs are still surprisingly in a crisscross position, but you think it’s because his jeans restrict him from being able to unravel from the position. And when you see earbuds plugged up your brother’s nose while his mouth acts as some sort of impromptu speaker for whatever song he has playing through his earbuds, you consider the option of leaving him outside for the rest of the night. What’s even worse is that Joshua, although a little out of it, sits next to his younger friend and bobs his head to the music while lethargically reaching into his brown paper bag on his lap to grab some greasy fries. You think your brother is asleep, but you don’t know if him becoming a speaker happened pre-knocking out or post-knocking out.
“Do I want to ask why you guys are trying to break into my place at 4 a.m. in the morning or should I be concerned that only half of you guys are here?”
“Actually.” the man underneath you groans while he slowly gathers enough strength to sit upright. There is a nasty red mark on the side of his face that he doesn’t seem to know of and mind. “Saying ‘4 a.m. in the morning’ is redundant.” He points at nobody in particular with the same hand holding your brother’s set of keys and stares past your calves. “Since you’re sober enough to be smart with me, I need your help dragging Vern and Shua into my place before the neighbors wake up and call neighborhood watch,” you gruff before stepping out of your house slippers into the sandals you keep near the door.
It turns out that there are more people scattered about the front of your place.
There is a car parallel parked against the sidewalk with what looks like two people in the car. Someone picks themself off the small grassy lawn on the other side of the bushes and trudges towards the car while pinching their temple.
Wonwoo nods at you when he passes by looking completely sober. Yet, for somebody who usually looks well-put-together, his hair is a mess while the top few buttons of his dress shirt are unbuttoned…no, missing. What remains are the threads that once attached the buttons to the dress shirt. You notice that he grips three different neckties in his hand but still his loose around his neck. Nevertheless, Wonwoo kicks off his dress shoes, steps over Jeonghan, enters your front door without saying a word, and knocks out on your sofa before his legs can make it onto the cushions.
You turn back to your brother. Joshua wipes his fingers on his pants before he squats on the other side of Vernon to help him up.
“Up,” you tell the both of them.
“I can’t breathe,” Vernon whines while allowing the both of you to help him stand. “My nose isn’t working.”
You sigh and yank the wired earbuds by their cords and out of his nostrils and let them drop before the older man helps his friend into your place. Bending down to grab the bag of fries that Joshua forgot, you see a disturbing amount of hair poking through the crevices of the leafy bush. Someone was dumb enough to black out in the bushes and you can’t tell who it is even after peering over the bush to look at the other half of the body.
“Jeonghan,” you hiss at the man who is trying to discreetly walk back to the car.
He looks back at you and mouths “what” while shrugging his shoulders.
You point at the head in the bush.
“It's Jihoon,” he snorts. He takes the paper bag from your hand and walks back to drop it in the wok that you put to the side before walking back to you. “I think he was supposed to give Vernon his keys but tripped and never got back up. Come to the car with me.”
“Why are you guys here?” you whispered. “I thought that you guys had the entire night planned out.”
“We had the entire night planned out. But then DK started crying and we had to end it early because he wouldn’t stop crying. And then all of us sobered up to try to help him but then it just worsened, so we drove here to get you to get him to stop crying. Some of us couldn’t deal with not being able to solve his problem and just started drinking again.”
“Is that why Jihoon is in the bushes?”
“Well, he never was the patient type,” he hums.
A quick look into the car immediately gets you to understand why someone like Jihoon would end up so drunk that he would dive headfirst into some bushes.
There are dozens of used tissues balled up and overflowing in the tiny hanging trashcan attached to the back of the passenger seat in Wonwoo’s car. There are a few in the laps of the two men sobbing next to each other in the backseats, and you make a mental note to help Wonwoo sanitize the inside of his car before he drives away in the afternoon. Seungcheol releases Seokmin’s seatbelt and looks at you with an apologetic smile on his face.
In all of the years you’ve come to know Seokmin, you have never seen his eyes this puffy.
“Sorry for showing up at your place unannounced. That must have scared you. There was a lot going on,” Seungcheol murmurs to you while giving you a quick hug. “We were making toasts to his future during the party until Vernon made a comment.”
“What did he say?” you asked him, shocked that your brother could even make a comment that would bring your fiancé to such a state.
“It wasn’t bad.” Seungcheol stepped aside from the open car door to let you squat next to your lover. “He just congratulated you on getting married but this dumbass took it the wrong way because he didn't mention Donkey Kong over here in the sentence and thinks you’re getting married to someone else.”
“Someone else!” Seokmin chokes out in a sob while slumped over on Soonyoung’s shoulder. “Why him? Why not me?”
You grab a tissue from the tissue box on the center console and dab at your future husband’s face. The traces of his tears wet the thin paper, and you can feel the heat of his skin through the tissue. With the same hand, you push the bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyelids to the side. You don’t mind that he doesn’t seem to know that you’re there taking care of him.
“Aww baby,” you coo. “I’ll get married to you, don’t worry.”
The familiarity of your comfort seems to lure your fiancé to sleep. A little further from you, Soonyoung continues to sniffle while his eyes are closed. You turn to Seungcheol and Jeonghan with your mouth open and eyebrows scrunched together.
“He’s a drunk crier…” Jeonghan’s words doesn’t leave you guessing anything. “And also Minghao opened his mouth during the bachelor party.” He scratches the back of his head as a sign of stress and embarrassment before looking at Seungcheol and cocking his head at the two knocked out in the car.
Jeonghan has the easier job of coaxing Soonyoung awake to walk him into your place. Seungcheol, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to swing the entire weight of your limp boyfriend like a large sack of rice over his shoulder.
“Do you need me to help with anything?” you ask him.
You don’t know what time it is anymore. The sky is getting brighter, and the temperature is warming up. Your partner looks finally peaceful in his sleep.
“Nah.” Seungcheol softly brushes your request aside. “We’ve already caused enough trouble for you.”
“I feel like I should be the one apologizing,” you joke while trailing behind Seungcheol just in case he needed any help readjusting the body.
“You don’t have to apologize for him.” His words are sincere. “He loves you, you know. He cried his heart out just because he loves you. There’s nothing to apologize for. To be loved is to be cared for. Go back to bed, we’ll probably wake up around dinner time.”
“Do you think anybody grabbed Jihoon?”
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dearest-nell · 1 day
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homebrew.
j. potter x reader, 3.6k
summary: james wants to do something nice for the reader. best friends to lovers, mentions of reader menstruating, james being a big softie
a/n: this is the first time i've written in a long while, so hi there! nice to be back
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It was safe to say that today was somewhat of a write off, at least in your own humble opinion. The familiar blunt pains of your period shook you from an already groggy, restless slumber, cyclically pressing somewhere deep inside you until you were drawn into a terrible state of nausea. You could feel the deep bruised marks hanging low beneath your eyes, hard earned and unwelcome, marring your already paler than usual complexion. You had avoided the mirror entirely, knowing something sallow would be the only reflection waiting. 
It was battle enough to make your way down the stairs from your dorm, your head hanging low as you ghosted your way towards an already raucous common room. Heavy eyes landed on the two familiar figures seated in the corner, and even in your dreary state, you couldn’t keep the small smile that tugged on the corners of your lips. James sat comfortably, splayed across the couch in his usual unapologetic stature, arm hanging heavy across the back, legs parted wide, head tipped back in laughter at something Sirius had surely uttered before your arrival. Sirius seemed much the same in his own right, though you took less pains to notice. James always seemed to snatch your attention, after all. It was his effect. 
You felt no need to greet the boys as you settled slowly beside James, slouching into the crook of his arm with entirely too little consideration, dropping your head to his shoulder with a distracted sigh. It was normal, after all, this kind of thing. James had always been affectionate by nature, and you craved the intimacy he had to offer more than you would ever admit. 
James moved in an automatic response, his arm swiping to encase you in his hold as if that was how it was always meant to be. He couldn’t see the little furrow on your brow, not properly, but he could feel the tension that held each and every muscle in you tighter than a bowstring. 
“Mornin’ there, sweetheart.” He chuckled, squeezing at your side affectionately only to receive a mumbled reply in turn. His brow rose towards Sirius, a silent conversation passing between them over your head. 
Sirius cocked his head. “Didn’t sleep well then, I take it.” 
You shook your head, closing your eyes to block out the light. Migraines were easily built when you were already in such a delicate state, and the widely opened windows of the tower had played the villain on you this morning. Ordinarily, the sunlight would have been worth a warm welcome, but this morning you had only wished for rain. 
James tutted beside you, his free hand inching to brush back the hair that had crowded your face, the back of it pressing gently against your forehead. James didn’t need to excel in divination to know that something was off with you, you certainly weren’t trying to hide it, but it now had become his own little mystery to solve — a distraction from the rest of his day. There was no temperature, though, so he hoped he could at least rule out a trip to Pompfrey.  “You feelin’ alright there?” 
You breathed out a soft yeah, though neither of the boys were too convinced by the answer.  
“You’re really gonna make us jump through hoops for it, aren’t ya.” Sirius teased, earning a narrowed, piercing glare from your tired eyes. 
“You don’t want to know, Pads.” 
Sirius shrugged, unphased by the response, and leaned back in his arm chair with his usual sort of smugness. 
James tried again a little softer, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. “Try me, then. You wouldn’t keep a secret from me, would you, love?” 
You were sure James couldn’t have known the effect that little nickname had on you, and you felt the familiar warm tug of your affection towards him slowly water down your reluctance to share. 
“It’s not a secret, Jamie. It’s just that time, y’know? I usually make a stock of potions and I just forgot, so I’m feelin’ a bit…” you trailed off, angling your face up slightly so he could see your queasy expression. “It’s nothing to write home about.” 
“Well in that case,” Sirius emphasised, pushing broad palms into the plush  arms of his chair to hoist himself up, “I’m going to go track down our other little monthly invalid. I’d rather face Moons than this one.” 
Sirius didn’t need to look back to see the vulgar motion you tossed his way, though James couldn’t help the chuckle that rippled from him as he watched you burrow in deeper after. 
“Can I do anything, then?” James queried, rubbing circles into your side with the warmth of his palm. “You look like you really ought to go back to bed.” 
“Can’t.” You grumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. “I promised Dorcus I’d help her with her essay.” 
Besides, you knew this was par for the course. How many people in the world faced the same battle as you and soldiered on — you didn’t feel like it was enough of an excuse when a third of Gryffindor tower was likely menstruating right along with you. Communal living, what a gem… 
“I’m sure she’d understand.” James offered, furrowing his own brow in thought. He didn’t  like there being a problem he couldn’t fix, and more so, he didn’t like you having a problem that he couldn’t fix. You were his little love, after all, his very best friend, it was his job to take care of you whether you wanted it or not. 
How the two of you weren’t in a relationship was anyone’s guess, and a frustration that plagued all of your friends and acquaintances to no end. You never sat like this with the others, never used such darling terms of endearment for the rest of the gang. Yours and James dynamic was something entirely of its own; too sweet and tender to be just friends, and yet never classified as anything more. You wouldn’t argue it, though, not when it allowed you this kind of closeness with him. If this was all you would ever get, then you would take it gladly. 
“She would, but I’m going anyways.” There was a decided tone to your voice that James knew would be a losing battle to argue with, so with a gentle sort of sigh, he focused his attention on a new objective. 
“So what’s the potion, then? Can I go buy you some?” 
You wrinkled your nose at the question, well aware that James was a dog with a bone at the best of times. It was sweet of him to offer, but the last thing you wanted was to feel helpless. You’d survived this long, after all, and the idea of you putting James out of his way was one you wished to avoid.  “It’s okay, Jamie. I’ll make up a batch tonight or tomorrow, or somethin’. You don’t need to do anything.” 
James would’ve knocked your martyr complex right out of you if he could, but that wasn’t his way. Besides, your stubbornness made up a part of you, and he loved all of you too much to ever want to change that, even if it was a pain in the neck. 
“You know I’m useless on my own. Maybe I’m bored and want something to do, hm? You don’t know.” 
He was being cheeky, and he had the shit eating grin to match it. That sort of energy always seemed to ripple off of him, settling a warmth into your bones that eased you somewhat. 
You managed a small, amused chuckle. “Then I’m sure the boys’ll have plenty to keep you busy today. I just wanted a hug before I was on my way.” 
“Oh yeah?” James’ voice was delighted as he circled his arms tighter around you, pressing you against the heat of his body with expert hands, fingertips massaging into your back and waist with reverent touches. “James hugs makes it all better, don't it.” 
With a scoff at his ego, you allowed yourself a moment to soak it all in – this closeness and intimacy that you wished you could bottle. James was the perfect boyfriend, after all, even if he didn’t belong to anyone. There was never a day where his friends did not feel the weight of his love, of his affection and regard. It felt almost greedy to want more from the man who gave so freely. 
But you did. You always wanted more of him. 
“Yeah they do, you smug bastard.” The teasing lilt was not lost upon him, and it only made James squeeze you tighter. 
“Y’know, I figure maybe I just won’t let you go. Then you’d have to rest right here where I can make sure.” 
You thought about biting him – you really did – just because it was cheeky and you knew it would make him laugh. Your restraint, however, could only be considered admirable, and instead you moved to pinch at his side with a sneaky manoeuvre, one that would unfortunately cut this perfect moment short. 
He yelped in surprise, his grip loosening enough for you to begrudgingly slip out of. It ached a little to see the way he was still reaching for you, trying to pull you back down to his side. Your traitorous, bleeding heart couldn’t help but hope that maybe he craved your touch as much as you craved his. But once again, James had nothing but adoring smiles for you, feeling all too bested in his own game. 
“Careful, love – if they see you moving that quick, I might have competition on the Quidditch team.” 
You shrugged, smiling a little coyly. “It won’t be my fault if they put you out of business, James.” 
He huffed out a laugh, clutching at his chest with enough melodramatics to level the castle. “You’re breakin’ my heart.” 
You tilted your head softly. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll see you later, okay?” 
His soft okay was enough for you to be on your way, though if you had heard his little, woefully mumbled I miss you already, then maybe you’d have turned back around. 
-------✿-------
Dorcus had been supportive enough during your studies, much to no one's surprise, but even she could tell that this round of pains seemed far more severe than usual. You spent the better part of the session hunched over your library desk, legs curled up beneath you in some feeble attempt to ease the pain. The heated pillow behind you helped somewhat, but by the mid afternoon, it was starting to feel like a losing battle. 
Once the bulk of the work was over, you resigned to give in, sending yourself back to the common room with a huff, energy far too spent for you to even consider making another round of potions. Pomfrey tried her best to keep a steady stock at all times, but between unsure first years whose potion making skills were not refined enough for such delicate casting and older students who were lazy enough not to bother, her supplies had once again been depleted, much to your chagrin. 
It left you with nothing to do but burrow deep down into the warmth of your duvet, hooking the blanket over your head as you drifted into another groggy, all too short sleep. Even with noise muffling and light repellant spells, your body could not seem to comply, and within the hour you were back on your feet again, lazily pulling together something warm and cosy to wear down to the common room once more. 
It was only when you opened your door that you noticed the small package at your feet, wrapped up prettily in a crimson ribbon that felt far too festive for something so mysterious. 
There was no note attached, no sign of where the gift had come from, but with a steady hand you unravelled the packaging, opening your gift to discover twelve identical potion bottles stacked neatly in rows, a small card tucked carefully in between that read your name in a scrawled writing. By sight you could identify the contents – the familiar purple tinge was one you had learned to identify from Pomfrey herself – though you were sure she wouldn’t have had the time to brew a new batch from when you last saw her only an hour beforehand. 
Chewing your lip, you pondered the possibilities, hooking the gift under your arm as you slowly descended the stairs to find the culprit. Of course, you were certain there was only one person who might have been responsible. James had been all too eager to help, after all, and far too free on his Saturday to be left to his own devices. The handwriting was unfamiliar, sure, but it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d attempted to throw someone off his trail that way; he was a prankster at heart. 
Even now you found him perched happily by the fire, wrapped up in his favourite armchair, eyes drifting lazily across the pages of a book in hand.Coming up from behind, you leaned yourself over the back of the chair, elbows holding you up as you watched him examine the box now resting in his lap.
 “So you’ve been busy today.”
Without missing a beat, James rated his head back onto the plush back behind him, smiling up at you with an innocence that seemed all for show. “Me? Well I’ve been trying to read, yes, though I wouldn’t call that busy.” 
“Oh? So you’ve got no idea what these are, then?” Your tone was nothing if not incredulous, but what was the harm in humouring him in something like this. 
James shrugged, passing a quick glance over the box in question before turning his eyes back to you. “Potions? Are they more of the ones you need?” 
Your lips curved as he feigned his innocence, though the smugness that seemed to tug at the corner of his lips betrayed him. He’d never been a good liar, after all. James was earnest to the bone. 
“You know, it’s funny, I couldn’t really say. There’s no labels, you see, and no note, so who is to say what they are.” You paused, gasping softly for a sort of dramatic effect, cupping your cheek with one hand as your eyes widened comically. “Oh no! They could be a nasty prank, now that I think about it. Probably best not to drink them…” 
You watched it live, that flash of regret that passed before his eyes as he realised his mistake. He tried his best to cover it, clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, eyes blinking up at you nervously. 
“Or it’s just… I mean it doesn’t look all that harmful, does it? Who’d wanna give you a rotten potion anyways.” 
You levelled your gaze at him. “Literally anyone that you share a room with, Jamie. I don’t need my hair falling out or my words coming out in Pig Latin, so I think I’ll pass.” 
James reached up for you on instinct, his fingers curling around the meat of your forearm with a tender sort of touch, his gaze somewhat imploring now. 
“Or you could just drink it, for… fun.” 
“Fun?” You quirked a brow, smile widening at this little game that you were sure to win. “Why would I do that?” 
James huffed. “Yeah, fun. I think they look fine, so maybe you should just—” 
“James.” 
He’d been backed into a corner and he knew it, though his little sigh of defeat did nothing for him to remove his touch from your arm. He spoke with a gentle whine, frustrated that the game was now at an end. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh.” 
“I don’t know why you don’t want to. It’s really sweet of you to find me some, though I don’t know how you managed twelve; the school seems tapped.” 
You shrugged your arm gently, enough to shake him from his grip so that your fingers could settle between his own, locking into place with such ease and familiarity. James’ gaze followed suit, watching the way his hand seemed to dwarf your own. 
“It is. Pomfrey’s out and the girls didn’t have any to spare, so I just made ‘em instead.” 
Your brows furrowed in surprise. “You made them? How?” 
James surely would not have had access to the recipe, and you knew that it wasn’t a quick potion to make. He must have spent hours on it, and the thought made your heart squeeze with affection inside your chest. 
Perhaps your affections were written right across your face, because you watched as his own expression softened to something equally adoring, his smile brightening at your astonishment. 
“I got Mary to show me. Or really she just talked at me for a bit, but I took heaps of notes, and she checked at the end to make sure I’d done it right. Figured killing you with the wrong mix would’ve done nothing to cheer you up.” 
You laughed at that, shaking your head in disbelief. Your breath felt caught in your throat, something large and unavoidable stuck and ready to spill out. “You didn’t have to.” 
James shrugged. “I wanted to. I just didn’t want to make a fuss is all. Didn’t want you feeling like you’d owe me anything.” 
You felt your lip catch between your teeth, already feeling that sense of obligation starting to pool in your gut. You had never been good at accepting gifts, after all, nor compliments – you always wanted to pay things back. James, however, was as stubborn as you were, and the resolve in his gaze was enough to show you that he was unflinching on this notion. 
“Well I… I want to say thanks somehow. This was really kind, Jamie. Too kind.” 
He shook his head, squeezing your hand in his. “You don’t even need to say the thanks part. Just take the potion and I’ll be happy. I hate seeing you hurt, love, I really do.” 
It was an impulse that had you moving, your body bending at the waist until you were lowered down just enough, James’ face angling to meet yours. You stayed like that for a moment, a blip in time spent with the two of you just watching one another, breaths evening out until you moved in sync, a pattern that only you two could follow. You nudged your face slightly, lips brushing tenderly against the scruff of an unshaved cheek, pressing there far longer than ordinarily you might have ever dared. 
You heard the shudder in his breath, felt the way his hand gripped yours as you pulled back, gaze meeting his own in an unavoidable stare. 
“Thank you, James. I really mean it.” 
You watched as he swallowed, that same sort of lump caught in his own throat as he tried to find the words, tried to make himself speak in a way that you would understand. How could he make you see that he would do anything for you, anything at all, whether you asked or not. 
He settled on the one thing he knew he needed, using his grip on your hand to urge you out from behind the couch – behind the wall between you two – guiding you until you settled comfortably in his lap, curled up and safe, just as you ought to be. You didn’t question the movement, just tilting your head curiously at the intense way he seemed to be watching you, tugging your entwined hands into your lap, cocooning his within your own, rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 
James reached for your face with his other hand, deft fingers hooking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, circling at the softness of your cheek and jaw with newfound tenderness. 
“If you want to thank me next time, then you can just let me look after you. It’s all I want to do.” 
His kiss was quick as he pressed his lips to your own, somehow so casual for something so foreign between you both. You’d have almost believed you’d made the whole thing up if you couldn’t feel the electricity it left behind, feel the way such a small thing had awakened so much inside of you. 
“Okay.” 
You could see it in his stare, the way he was reading you, trying to understand if you wanted this as badly as he did. Your soft sigh as you nuzzled into the warmth of his palm was all the reassurance he needed, nodding to himself as he processed the lines he had just crossed. 
“Okay.” He breathed, angling your face to kiss your brow, his touch reverent as he lingered far longer this time, unable to bring himself to pull away until the very last second, that teasing, boyish grin now spread across his features. “Take your potion, then, and sit with me a little while. I wanna make sure it works.” 
It was hard to tell what was changed between you two, but all you knew was that whatever had occurred here in this armchair would linger in the back of your mind for days to come. There was a new intimacy here, one far deeper than had ever been explored between the two of you before, and even without words, you knew James felt it too. 
Maybe it didn’t need words. Maybe it was enough for you to drink the potion and settle against him, your nose pressed against the pulse beating steadily at the crook of his neck, his hand pressing soft circles into the dip of your back. Maybe that was the only step that needed taking, for now. Something felt all too assured in that moment that this was just the beginning, and that was all the both of you needed to know.
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https-songmingi · 2 days
Text
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PAIRING —Seonghaw x reader
WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, sexual language, link
Minors do not interact
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✧.* Picnic Date ✧.*
➛ Link
Y/N gasped, her eyes widening in surprise before she looked down at Seonghaw's hand sliding down her pants. Her heart raced as she felt the cool breeze brush against her flushed cheeks and the warmth of the sun on her back.
She gripped onto the blanket underneath them, trying to keep herself grounded as his fingers traced along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her breath hitched when he finally found his way between her legs and began to gently tease her folds.
She bit her lip to muffle any noise that might escape but moaned softly nonetheless, feeling the heat spread through her body like wildfire.
"Seonghaw..." she called his name, her voice hoarse with desire. She arched her hips into his touch, needing more contact. His fingers were surprisingly skilled, teasing and probing at just the right spots to make her squirm with pleasure.
As he continued to play with her, she let out small whimpers of delight that were quickly drowned out by the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind.
The taste of strawberries lingered on their lips from where they'd been nibbling on them earlier, sweet and tart mixed together. The sun shone brightly overhead, casting long shadows across the grassy knoll they lay upon.
The soft hum of insects filled the air, adding an almost sensual background music to their intimate moment. Y/N could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead despite the light breeze that tousled through their hair; it made Seonghaw's hand feel cool against her heated skin.
He leaned in closer to whisper against Y/N's ear "Shh, pretty girl." His voice was a soft whisper in her ear, his breath tickling her skin as he teased her. "Don't make a sound. I don't want anyone to hear us."
Seonghaw's whisper sent shivers down Y/N's spine, making her nipples harden even more under the thin fabric of her shirt.The thrill of possibly being caught only heightened her arousal, and she bit her lip harder to stifle a moan. She closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his skilled fingers teasing her clit, circling it in slow, lazy motions that were driving her insane.
"I-I'm trying," she breathed out, her words coming out in a hushed pant. "It's just... it feels so good..."
Seonghaw chuckled lightly, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers down her spine. "That's the plan." He quickened his pace slightly, and Y/N's hips bucked upward involuntarily. Heat pooled between her thighs as he continued to work his magic, rubbing her clit in slow circles while sliding a finger inside her wet entrance at the same time. It was almost too much for Y/N to handle.
Their surroundings faded away as Y/N's vision blurred, replaced by a kaleidoscope of colors. The sky above them swirled in her mind's eye - purples and blues and fiery reds, like an ocean set ablaze. Her breathing became ragged as the sensations Seonghaw elicited in her body became too much to bear.
Y/N's toes curled, digging into the grass beneath her as the pleasure built inside her, coiling tighter and tighter. Seonghaw must have sensed her impminent release, because he slid another finger inside her alongside the first, stretching her deliciously as he continued to manipulate her clit.
"Seonghaw... I..."
"Shh, shh," he soothed, his voice like a balm on her fevered skin. "Let it go, baby girl. I've got you."
And with those words, Y/N's world shattered into a million pieces. White-hot pleasure consumed her entire being as she came undone in Seonghaw's arms.
Her cries were muffled By Seonghaw’s lips as he pressed a deep kiss to her lips, effectively muffling her moans as her body shook and trembled in his arms . His tongue invaded her mouth, swirling around hers in tandem with the rhythm of his fingers inside her.
The climax was so intense that Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids. It felt like an eternity before the world around them came back into focus.
Panting, Y/N's eyes fluttered open, meeting Seonghaw's dark orbs alight with desire and satisfaction. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips, slowly, sensually licking every drop of her essence off them before smirking at her.
"Delicious."
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©️https-song mingi
Minors do not interact
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157 notes · View notes
dreamauri · 3 days
Text
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♪ — 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦 - part four lando norris x  fem! streamer! reader (fluff) “. . . lando finds himself addicted to playing video games with this girl he cant get out of his head.”
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )
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“This is pointless” he thought tiredly as he turned to sleep on his other side, only to feel frustrated anger boil in him soon enough. Lando's been restless for a good few hours now and he feels like he's losing his mind. The Japanese Grand Prix week had ended and he still couldn't shut his eyes for the day.
He felt angry, and agitated. He didn't even know what drove him to pick up his phone and dial your contact. What was that going to solve, bothering you with his problems? Besides, it's a bad idea because it's 1am at yours. He'll just hang up and pray that sleep takes him.
Well, his phone didn't stay on his nightstand for long because as soon as you called back he had practically smashed the green button and pressed the phone to his ear. Lando opened his mouth ready to throw complaints, only to stop short hearing you yawn, which he hated to admit that it helped his heart rate calm down faster than you can blink.
"It's one in the morning, Lan." You yawned, shuffling to find a comfortable position where you didn't have to hold your phone up.
"I know— I'm sorry." The brit sighed, rubbing his eyes, laying on his back and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry I woke you up." His voice came off as soft, he was clearly sorry. You could hear how tired and exhausted he was too.
"No, it's ok," you shook your head. "Tell me what's wrong." Lando sighed, staying silent for a few minutes, trying to search through his thoughts. Why was he feeling this way?
"I saw the race." You hum after a few moments, snuggling into your bed sheets as your phone rested on the pillow somewhere beside you. "That overtake was amazing." Your little tired giggle made Lando's heart skip a beat as he rested his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.
"I was watching you on TV. My roommate thought I was crazy. Maybe I was being a bit too loud. Maybe I wanted my voice to reach you aaaaalll the way in Japan so you could go faster." You joked, chucking softly at the idea. Lando found himself smiling at the thought, imagining you jumping and cheering for him.
"How would I go any faster?" Lando chuckled, feeling his muscles relax and his eyes close.
"I don't know? You're Lando Norris. You drive super fast cars." You tease, making Lando laugh at your reference to his twitter bio. How you always make the minutes feel yellow and joyful, he'll never understand. The call has only been on for 13 minutes and you've already made him feel much better and lighter.
"Yeah," he nodded agreeing, feeling his smile widen. “I drive super fast cars.” He agreed with a happy sigh. Yep, he definitely felt much better now that you're here, even if you're not physically present.
It was as if you were mending him with magic. Not with stitches or bandages, or glue. No need for needle and thread, or having to change gauze or having to put layers of glue. You made Lando feel as if he was glowing.
"What's your favourite movie?" He asked out of nowhere. You took a second or two before giving your answer.
"I think I'll pick . . . Corpse bride." you hummed as you shifted to sleep on your other side. Lando's eyebrows furrowed in surprise at your choice. 
"Corpse bride? Why Corpse Bride?" You chuckled and shrugged. 
"It's a good movie. It makes my heart feel . . . I can't explain it. It's just a good movie." Lando thought for a second, scratching under his eye. 
"Well I'll have to come watch it next time because I've never watched the full thing." You gasp at his confession, making him laugh. 
"How dare you?" You pretend to be offended, making Lando and you laugh for a good few moments. "What about you? What's your favourite movie?" You ask. Lando held his breath before pulling it out. 
"I'm not sure. It keeps changing every now and then." He shrugged, finding himself smiling.
"That's a very Lando Norris thing to say." Lando found himself laughing, face heating up. 
"What's yourrrrrr," Lando paused for a second trying to think of something. "Favourite colour."
"Oh! Green for sure." You nodded with a hum. 
"Green? What type of green?" Lando asked further. 
"No, no, it's my turn to ask. What's your favourite colour?"
"Fluorescent yellow." Lando answered without hesitation. "Now. What type of green?" He asked the question again. You hummed for a second. 
"I'd say, like, the green on your helmet. But like, with purple. But not fluorescent purple. A not so dark purple" You nodded. The brit found himself smiling heavily, cheeks burning. He's glad this was a voice call, otherwise he's not sure how he'd hide his face from you. 
“You like my helmet’s colour?” 
“Hey, pretty boy. It’s my turn to ask.”
The questions went on until you decided to invite Lando for a small game after he kept insisting that you should fall asleep. but you kept declining, insisting to give him company so he's not alone, not mentioning the fact that you heavily enjoy his company and voice.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Huge farm." Lando commented as he walked his little avatar around your house and crops. 
"Yeah," you nodded. "been playing this game for a long while now." You hummed smiling as you followed Lando around.
"Oh look! An NPC!" the brunette started running circles around the kid making you chuckle.
"That's my son." You say and immediately get a gasp from the other side of the call.
"You have a son?!" You found yourself laughing. "How'd you make him?" You found yourself laughing even harder at the question.
"What - do - you - mean?" You asked between wheezes, barely being able to breathe. Lando was even angrier when he found out you divorced your husband, insisting you file for child support.
"I'll marry you, Y/n! I'll look after you and your son." Lando said confidently, running in circles around you this time. “I’ll support you financially and be the father figure he needs. Marry me, marry me, marry me!”
"I think-" you tried to catch your breath, wiping tears of laughter. "I think I have a ring." You say and can immediately hear Lando's excited squeal from the call.
"I'm gonna get married before Max! Ha!" You thought you were going to drown in dopamine at this point, hugging your stomach as you offered Lando the ring. "WAIT, I DIDN'T PREPARE A SPEECH." He panicked.
"Most amazing and beautiful lady in all the lando-" The guy was too stressed in his thoughts that he accidentally said his own name instead of land, which was not helping you calm down from your laughing fit. "IN ALL THE LAND! I meant in all the land!" he corrected himself quickly.
"Y/n dev L/n. Will you marry me, lLando, in this RPG pixelated game and take my last name," he said quickly. "Wait! wait." He shouted, cutting himself off. You saw your screen flash with colours, seeing Lando open his camera and lamp. "Will you, Y/n devs L/n marry me." The Brit repeated holding his hands as if he was opening a ring box.
You bit your lip to suppress a smile, turning your own camera and setting it to lean on the heap of texts on your night stand. The PC on your bed illuminated your face just enough. Lando felt his heart hammer in his chest seeing your smile and eyes. So sleepy yet so effortlessly beautiful to the point butterflies swarmed his stomach.
"My, sir Lando. I would love to marry you." You nodded sheepishly, trying to brush your messy hair to look a little more presentable despite you both looking like a stuffed animal that got chewed on by a dog. You had thought Lando was naked at first glance but turns out he was sleeping in his underwear. You were no better,  in a mickey mouse shirt with also no pants.
Lando put his hand over his heart, pretending cupid had shot an arrow through. "Oh, my wife." He sighed happily, making you laugh and blush.
You felt . . . some sort of way after this fake proposal. It was only in Stardew Valley. But you still felt something stir in your heart, seeing Lando's genuine smile. For a moment, you both forgot you weren't actually married, spending the rest of the night doing couple things and having the fake wedding which you recorded for memory.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 days
Note
If you’re taking requests, I’d love to see more of Danny and the Fan Blog.
Danny is asked to go in through the servant's entrance. He would be offended if he couldn't tell that the people strutting through the front gate weren't wearing outfits that cost more than his family house.
He didn't see a reason to argue with security, so Danny wandered over to the side entrance and was allowed entrance when they verified his identification.
He winds up in a spacious kitchen. Men and women are rushing around in white and blue chef outfits. They speak in fast tones and make quick movements, somehow never colliding with each other.
In the far right corner, a group of servers is straightening out their outfits and picking up trays covered in various drinks or finger foods. They wander in and out at a more leisurely pace than the cooking crew, but there is a sense of urgency among them that tells Danny they are having it rough out in the field, too.
Security is standing at the entrance, and occasionally, a second guard walks in, pacing around the room with a sharp eye.
Danny feels like a floating life raft in a raging sea. He clings to his camera hanging around his neck and wishes to bail on his mission for Lady Gotham. Getting a portrait shot of all the Waynes was starting to seem like too much of a hassle.
If only she wasn't so high-ranking in nobility.
After noticing that Danny needs to know where to go, one of the servers slides over. "Hey, I'm Ryan. Is this your first time covering a big event?"
He gives the taller man a nervous smile. "Yeah. I've never been to a party as fancy as this."
"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Ryan tells him with an easy smile. Danny notices he's pretty handsome, but that's to be expected. Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne only hired good-looking people for servers.
It's one of the reasons his parties are so well-liked.
"I'll break it down for you. First, there are three floors to the party- the entrance hall where most are just trading pleasures. Do not try to start up conversations there; it is seen as impolite. Second, the Middle room- right between the ballroom and the entrance- is where the elites sit down for a conversation. They also go there to take a break from the party. It's where you'll be tonight since it's where media crew is allowed." Ryan says quickly, taking long, fast strides. Danny scrambles after him, trying to retrain everything in memory.
It's a bit hard since Ryan doesn't seem to want to waste a second, and Danny might or might not be the best at following verbal instructions. If only he had a notepad.
"Pro tip: don't turn on the flash. The elites hate it when they notice you're there. The crew is asked to stay in the first two rooms. Mr. Wayne lets the media into his parties, but he wants his guests to be safe, so don't even try to go into the main ballroom and, for your sake, ask before you take a picture." Ryan finishes pushing open a door. He gestures to the room. "Good luck."
"Hold on-" Danny tries to say, but he can't finish before he is thrown into the hallway. At once, Danny realizes with horror that he is right in the center of the Middle room. There are a lot more people than he is prepared for, seeing as groups of people are standing or sitting around speaking in low voices.
A few heads turn to look at him, making Danny panic. He spots a corner that is far away from everyone. He makes his way there with careful steps, hunching his shoulders whenever he accidentally makes eye contact with people.
Though that was more of the staff, the guests seemed to look right. Danny isn't used to it from Amity Park, but it's a surprise to have to experience it again here in Gotham.
Arriving safely in his corner, Danny leans against the wall, surveying the room. He doesn't know who anyone is, which means his targets are not here, but he can certainly tell they all scream wealth.
A slight floral scent is in the air, and music plays through the wall in a classical ambiance. It's every stereotype of rich people's party, giving horrid flashbacks to high society events in the Ghost zone.
At least no one is mobbing him to try and gain favor with the new naive King.
He accidentally locks gaze with an older woman who lifts her eyebrow. Her expression is smooth, but her eyes are cold as ice and he can practically feel her sneer.
Danny snaps his eyes away, swallowing hard. He fumbles with his camera, checking the settings, adjusting the lens, and trying to look busy.
After a moment, he felt her gaze leave him.
Okay, I can do this, he thinks, relieved that the ice queen wasn't staring him down. I just find the Waynes, get their pictures, and go home. Then I can go out and take photos of the Bats.
Taking a deep breath, Danny shuffles to the main door and adjusts his camera settings again. As he clicks through the shutter settings, he feels a hand reach out and nearly knock the wind out of him.
"Guest only beyond this point," A man in a suit growls at him. Danny rubs his chest, trying not to melt into the ground as he can feel multiple people turn to stare.
"I am a guest." He tells the man.
The other sighs. "Sir, if you don't back up, I must escort you off the property."
"What? No, I swear I am. I have an invitation." Danny pulls out the letter Lady Gotham gave him, unfolding it from his back pant pocket. The man takes it from his hand and crumbles it up without looking at it.
"Hey!"
"I will not tell you again. Take a step back or else!"
Danny's hands curl into fists against his will. The man's eyes narrow with a sneer, matching his rage. Just as he thought things would go badly, he heard a voice crack over the speakers.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you all are enjoying the evening. This night wouldn't have been possible without your generous donations today. A special thank you to Daniel Fenton for making the largest donation." Bruce Wayne says with a dizzy smile.
Danny straightens up. "That's me. I'm Daniel Fenton."
"Sure it is."
"I am! I have my ID." Danny pulls out his wallet. "Look!"
"That's it. You have ten seconds to leave: on your own or by force," the man growls, reaching up to his earpieces. He taps them twice. I request a backup to remove a disturbance."
"What?! I'm not even doing anything!"
"We had plenty of complaints against you already. You made our guest feel unsafe."
"But-!"
"Is there a problem here?" a second pair of security guards asks. They surround Danny, and by this point, people have noticed there is undoubtedly a disturbance underway.
"No, there isn't! I'm just trying to go to the party I was invited to."
"Nice try. I saw you come through the servant's entrance." One of them says.
"Because they told me to!" Over the shoulder of one of the guards, he spots Ryan walking by with a tray of shimmering drinks. Thinking about how nice he was, Danny waved a hand. "Ryan can vouch for me. Hey, Ryan! Ryan!"
The server turns to him, his eyes comprehensive as soon as he spots Danny waving eagerly. Face turning pale, the man rushes over.
"What's going on?" He asks, and two guards level dark stares at the employee.
"Ryan, can you please tell them I was invited?" Danny demands with a pout.
"Kid, I told you the crew stays in the Middle room," Ryan tells him nervously, warping an arm around him and balancing the tray in the other. "It's okay, guys. He's with me. He just got a little confused is-"
"So you both need to be removed from the premises," the original guard sneers, snapping his figures. The other two quickly step forward and grab them. "By the way, Ryan, you're fired."
"W-what? But Cooper, I really need this job. My sister has medical bills, and she depends on me!"
"Then she's going to be very disappointed, isn't she?" Cooper tells him with a smirk.
"That's not fair. He didn't do anything wrong." Danny protests as Ryan's expression crumbles.
"What is going on here?" a new voice asks. Everyone turns to find an elderly British man looking at them, all unimpressed.
"Mr. Pennysworth. We have the situation handled." Cooper tells him smoothly.
"Good, because Master Wayne is waiting for Mr. Fenton to give a speech."
That makes everyone freeze, including Danny. "I am?"
"Of course, sir. You did out-donate everyone here," the butler tells him in a deadpan voice. He gives the shocked Ryan a quick glance, "This is?"
"Ryan," Danny says, taking the tray from the stunned older teenager. He passes it to a gaping Copper. "He's with me."
"Very well, sirs, please come this way." He glances at the camera around Danny's neck. "I see you brought your equipment. Please refrain from taking photos within the hall."
"Yes sir." He tells the butler, grabbing Ryan's hand and pulling him into the room.
"You're rich?" Ryan gasps, staring at Danny like he was an alien
"It would certainly appear so. By the way, what's your last name?"
"Aetos"
"Ryan Aetos. Nice name. What's your sister's name?"
"Ida. Why?"
"To pay off all her medical bills. Current and future."
"What?!"
Danny smiles up at the teenager. He seems to be about two years older than Danny, so he is likely nineteen. "Yeah, you were nice to me. That's good karma, and trust me, in Gotham, that means a lot. Now, let's enjoy the party. You're my plus one tonight."
Light years above them, Karma kicks her feet, giggling madly. "It looks like Tim has noticed Danny for his camera, but oh, what this—a love rival, with a heart of gold and a care for his sister? Lovely."
"Do you not have a life sister?"
"I have a job. Unlike you, brother." She snaps before quickly moving Tim into a position that would be fabulous once Danny gives into his urge to take the photo. Just in case.
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Note
What will be hazbin hotel man reaction for their s/o to reach for someone else for comfort when sad instead of them
"Why Not Me?" ; Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk
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Probably the only one out of these three that'll actually have a problem with it, to be honest.
He'll notice you aren't telling him things, and corner you when you least expect it.
"S/O? I've noticed you've been distant lately, my love. Is everything alright? Have I upset you in some way?"
There's a light threatening aura in his tone, but that's just how his voice is. He would never actually hurt you, and you know it.
You explain that you're just going through a rough patch and talking to a friend.
Spoiler alert: he starts demeaning and making that friend look bad, trying to appear as the better option, instead.
And if that fails, he'll settle for just making that person know you're his.
Keeping his arm around you, holding your hand, leaving marks on your neck, etc....
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Supportive, actually!
He thinks it's healthy to be able to go to multiple people for support, rather than just one person!
After all, he has Husk, he has Cherri, he's got people, so why shouldn't you?
"Y'know if ya ever need anythin', I'll be here, Baby Boy. Till then, just do ya thing, I won't get in ya way~."
And as such, he... basically leaves you alone.
If he ever does begin feeling jealous that you're spending time apart from him?
He'll just make sure to get an extra long cuddle sesh from you later!
No big deal. Maybe a drink, too, on him. As a treat for his lovely boyfriend. :)
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Honestly? Husk would probably understand. But he'd understand it as him being generally a wreck and probably not great with advice.
Despite that, he makes it clear he's there if you need someone to talk to.
"Y'know... I may not be the best at, uh... givin' advice, but... if you need someone to listen to ya, I'm here. Alright, doll?"
Actually marry him.
He'll make you whatever drink you want when you're done talking to someone else, and even be amicable to that person.
After all, if you're picking someone over him...
...He wouldn't blame you.
You won't, though.
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bloodreinasbathwater · 16 hours
Text
Little Dove
Quinn Hughes X Pregnant! Reader
a;n it took me forever to finish this chapter, but I think I'm finally back in my groove. I can't wait for you guys to read I've been so excited to put out more fics.
Warnings: pregnancy, arguing, toxic family, suggestive wording lol, anxiety
masterlist link / previous chapters
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summary: Y/N's world is turned upside down when she suspects she might be pregnant. Consumed by fear and uncertainty, she takes a pregnancy test but can't bring herself to face the result. She throws the test away and seeks solace in a hot shower, trying to escape the relentless thoughts plaguing her mind.
word count - 4629
...
Y/N stood before the imposing black door, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to gather the courage to face what lay beyond the wooden door. The sleek, polished surface seemed to mock her, its very presence a reminder of the power her parents held over her life.
The stone wall surrounding the entrance loomed above her, casting long shadows that seemed to reach out and grab at her, pulling her towards the inevitable confrontation.
She inhaled deeply, the cool evening air filling her lungs and doing little to calm the storm of emotions that raged within her. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to turn around, to run back to the safety of the car and drive away, leaving behind the suffocating expectations and demands of her family.
With a trembling hand, Y/N reached out and grasped the golden handle, the cold metal biting into her palm. The sensation was almost a relief, a sharp contrast to the burning anxiety that coursed through her veins. She squeezed the handle tightly, as if the physical act could somehow give her the strength she so desperately needed.
"Come on," Quinn urged softly, his voice a gentle whisper in her ear. She felt the warmth of his hand on her back, a comforting presence that seemed to anchor her in the midst of her thoughts. His touch sent shivers down her spine, a reminder of the love and support that he offered her unconditionally.
At her silence, Quinn pressed harder, his fingers kneading the tense muscles of her back. "It won't go as bad as you think it will. I'll be with you the whole time, honey."
Y/N closed her eyes, trying to draw strength from his words. But the unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach refused to be silenced. "I know, Quinn," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her own heart.
"It's just... I have a really bad feeling right now. They've never wanted to meet any of my boyfriends, let alone invite them for family dinner. Something about it feels so wrong."
Quinn's hands continued to move along her back, his touch a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. "How about this," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How ‘bout we play perfect couple with your parents, and then after all of our pain and suffering, we head back home, and I give you one of the Quinn special massages.”
As he spoke, Quinn's hands inched higher, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of her spine before coming to rest on the smooth skin of her shoulders. Y/N couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he massaged a particularly tense spot, the sensation causing her head to fall back against his shoulder. “You can relax and let me take care of things."
"Sound good?" Quinn asked, his voice low and full of promise.
Y/N allowed herself a small smile, the first genuine one she'd felt all evening. "That sounds amazing," she breathed, her body already beginning to relax under his expert touch.
Quinn pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go before they get suspicious, hmm?"
With a final squeeze of her hand, Quinn stepped forward and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the stillness of the night. Y/N took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and preparing herself for the awkward silence and judgmental stares. She knew that with Quinn by her side, she could face anything her parents threw at her.
As Quinn gently pushed Y/N forward, taking the lead and opening the door, they were greeted by an eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The absence of voices, the usual bustle of family life, was unnerving, and Y/N felt a chill run down her spine. The only sound that pierced the stillness was the high-pitched, excited barking of the family dog, Cinnamon.
From the shadows, a blur of fur came charging towards them, a ball of energy and enthusiasm that seemed to light up the dimly lit entrance. Y/N couldn't help but let out a squeal of delight as she knelt down, her arms outstretched to catch the wriggling bundle of joy.
"Hi, Cinnamon baby," she cooed, her voice filled with affection as the small dog eagerly licked at her face, its tail wagging furiously. For a moment, all of Y/N's worries and fears melted away, replaced by the pure, unconditional love that radiated from the tiny creature in her arms.
Quinn watched the scene with a smile, his heart warming at the sight of Y/N's happiness. Her laughter, so rare in the face of her family's expectations, was like music to his ears. He chuckled softly as Cinnamon hopped off Y/N's lap and made a beeline for his own legs, her tiny paws clawing at the fabric of his neatly pressed suit pants.
"Hello there," Quinn said, his voice soft and gentle as he leaned down to pat the dog's head. Cinnamon's fur was soft beneath his fingers, and he marveled at the way such a small creature could bring so much joy and comfort to those around it.
But the moment of levity was short-lived, as a voice suddenly spoke from the opposite side of the room, shattering the brief respite from the tension that hung heavy in the air.
"Sorry for the interruption, Miss Y/N," the voice said, its tone formal and detached. "Your parents are ready for you. Please follow me."
Y/N felt her stomach drop at the words, the bitterness and unease settling back into her stomach. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and filled with a silent plea for strength. He gave her a reassuring nod, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Together, they followed the worker, their footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. There was something ominous in the air, a sense of foreboding that seemed to grow with every step they took. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the warmth of Quinn's hand in hers, the strength that flowed between them.
Y/N stepped through the sliding door, her heart racing with anticipation and nervousness, she was immediately greeted by the sight of her mother rising from her seat at the table.
Dedra's movements were graceful and measured, her posture perfect and her expression carefully composed. Y/N could feel her father's piercing gaze on her and Quinn, his eyes narrowing as he silently assessed the young man by her side.
Despite the palpable tension in the room, Quinn maintained a charming smile, his demeanor confident and unflappable. He strode towards Derek's seat at the head of the table, his hand outstretched in a gesture of greeting. "Mr. L/N, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, his voice smooth and polished. "I've heard so much about you."
Derek regarded Quinn for a moment, his expression unreadable, before accepting the handshake with a firm grip. "Quinn," he acknowledged, his tone cool and measured. "Welcome to our home."
Y/N quickly guided Quinn to the seat beside her, her fingers lacing with his under the table in a silent show of support. She could feel the weight of her parents' scrutiny, the unspoken questions and judgments hanging heavy in the air.
Dedra, ever the perfect hostess, smiled warmly at the assembled group, her face a mask of polite interest. "Let's begin, shall we?" she said, clapping her hands together. At her signal, a team of immaculately dressed servers emerged from the kitchen, bearing trays laden with an array of sumptuous dishes.
As the servers efficiently set the table, Dedra settled back into her seat, her dress clinging to her figure like a second skin. The chandelier above cast a dazzling light across the room, its crystals refracting and casting shimmering patterns on the walls.
Y/N couldn't help but marvel at her mother's impeccable appearance, the way she seemed to effortlessly command attention and admiration.
But the illusion of perfection was shattered a moment later, as Dedra fixed Y/N with a critical gaze, her lips curving into a small, condescending smile. "Well, you've gotten fat," she remarked, her voice dripping with false concern as she raised a delicate flute of champagne to her lips.
"You know, the past few weeks, your cheeks have seemed to get chubbier. Are you skipping out on that yoga class I recommended?"
Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisting with a mixture of shock and humiliation. She glanced at Quinn, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for his support. Quinn's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he fought to maintain his composure.
Clearing her throat, Y/N forced a smile onto her face, her voice trembling slightly as she replied, "I've been focusing on my career, Mom. The yoga class hasn't been a top priority."
Dedra tutted softly, shaking her head in disapproval. "Darling, you know how important it is to maintain your appearance. You don't want to let yourself go, do you? What will people think?"
Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She could feel Quinn's hand tighten around hers, a silent promise of support and protection. But even his comforting presence couldn't erase the sting of her mother's words, the way they cut straight to the heart of her deepest insecurities.
As the servers cleared away the first course, Derek turned his attention to Quinn, his eyes narrowing slightly as he appraised the young man. "So, Quinn," he began, his voice deceptively casual, "I hear you're a hockey player. For the Vancouver Canucks, is that right?"
Quinn nodded, his expression confident and self-assured. "Yes, sir. I've been with the team for a few years now. It's been an incredible experience, both on and off the ice."
Derek leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. "And what exactly do you do for the team? Are you a starter, or do you mostly warm the bench?"
Y/N bristled at her father's tone, the barely concealed disdain dripping from his words. But Quinn seemed unfazed, his smile never wavering as he replied, "I'm a forward, sir. I play on the first line and contribute regularly to the team's success."
Dedra chimed in, her voice saccharine sweet. "That must keep you very busy, Quinn. Do you have any time for hobbies or interests outside of hockey?"
Quinn chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course. I believe in maintaining a balanced lifestyle. When I'm not on the ice or training, I enjoy volunteering at local youth centers, mentoring kids who come from tough backgrounds. I also have a passion for photography and love exploring the city with my camera."
Y/N felt a swell of pride at Quinn's words, the way he spoke with such conviction and sincerity. She knew how much his volunteer work meant to him, how he used his platform as a professional athlete to make a real difference in the lives of others.
But her father seemed unimpressed, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. "Photography and volunteering? How... quaint. And I suppose these activities are what brought you and Y/N together?"
Y/N's heart skipped a beat, her palms growing clammy as she anticipated Quinn's response. They had agreed to keep the details of their relationship private, to avoid giving her parents any ammunition to use against them.
Quinn, however, remained unruffled. "Actually, sir, Y/N and I met through a mutual friend. We connected over our shared love of art and culture, and things progressed naturally from there. We've been seeing each other for almost a year now, and I can honestly say that she's one of the most incredible women I've ever met."
Y/N's cheeks flushed at Quinn's words, a warm glow spreading through her chest. But her happiness was short-lived, as her father's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with barely contained anger.
"A few months?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And you didn't think to inform us of this development, Y/N? Your mother and I have a right to know about the people you associate with, especially when they're..." he trailed off, his lip curling in distaste as he glanced at Quinn.
Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She opened her mouth to respond, to defend herself and Quinn, but the words stuck in her throat, trapped behind the lump of fear and anxiety.
Quinn, sensing her distress, reached under the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers in a silent show of support. "With all due respect, sir," he said, his voice calm and measured.
"Y/N is an adult, capable of making her own decisions. Our relationship is built on mutual trust, respect, and love. I understand your concerns as her parents, but I assure you that my intentions towards your daughter are nothing but honorable."
Derek scoffed, his eyes narrowing to icy slits. "Honorable intentions? From a professional athlete? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe."
The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations and barely contained hostility. Y/N's hands clenched into fists beneath the table, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to contain the rage that boiled within her.
She had endured her father's snide comments and thinly veiled insults all evening, biting her tongue and forcing herself to maintain a facade of civility. But as Derek's words dripped with venom, his contempt for Quinn and their relationship laid bare, something inside her snapped.
"Enough!" she shouted, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. "I will not sit here and listen to you disrespect the man I love, the man who has shown me more kindness and support than you ever have!"
Derek's eyes widened in shock, his face reddening with anger. "How dare you speak to me like that, young lady? I am your father, and you will show me the respect I deserve!"
Y/N laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating in the tense silence of the room. "Respect? You want to talk about respect? Where was your respect when you belittled my dreams, when you dismissed my accomplishments as nothing more than frivolous whims? Where was your respect when you tried to control every aspect of my life, molding me into your perfect little puppet?"
Dedra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a gesture of feigned shock. "Y/N, please, let's not do this here. We have a guest."
Y/N's gaze snapped to her mother, her eyes blazing with a fury that bordered on hatred. "Oh, spare me the theatrics, Mother. You're just as bad as he is, always pushing me to fit into your narrow little world, to be the perfect daughter you can parade around like a goddamn show pony."
Quinn reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Y/N, baby, it's okay. We don't have to do this."
But Y/N shook her head, her jaw set with determination. "No, Quinn, it's not okay. I'm done letting them dictate my life, done letting them treat me like some kind of possession they can control."
Derek slammed his hand down on the table, the dishes rattling with the force of his anger. "That's enough, Y/N! I will not tolerate this kind of disrespect in my own home. If you insist on continuing this relationship with this... this hockey player, then you can consider yourself cut off. No more trust fund, no more fancy apartment, no more cushy job at the family company. You'll have to live off your precious Quinn's salary and see how far that gets you."
Y/N stared at her father in disbelief, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known that her parents' love was conditional, that their support came with strings attached. But to hear it laid out so plainly, to know that they would cast her aside so easily, was a blow that left her reeling.
Slowly, she rose from her chair, her legs trembling beneath her. "Fine," she said, her voice low and steely. "Cut me off. Disown me. Do whatever the fuck you want. But know this: I will never, ever forgive you for this. You may be my parents by blood, but you are not my family. Quinn is my family, and I choose him, now and always."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, her head held high and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Quinn followed close behind, his hand resting on the small of her back.
they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N let out a shuddering breath, her entire body shaking with the force of her emotions. Quinn pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt.
"I've got you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "I've always got you. No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me against the world, remember?"
Y/N stood motionless in the bathroom, the white tile floor cold and unyielding beneath her bare feet. The room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where she could escape the chaotic thoughts that swirled through her mind like a relentless whirlwind.
The pale blue walls, once a source of calm and tranquility, now felt oppressive, as if they were closing in on her, trapping her in a prison of her own making.
The air was thick with the scent of lavender and vanilla, the candles she had lit earlier in a futile attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. But even the familiar, comforting aroma couldn't ease the tension that coiled within her, the knots of anxiety that twisted her stomach and made her heart race with a sickening pace.
Her gaze was drawn to the vanity, its white marble surface cluttered with the detritus of her daily life. Makeup brushes and half-empty bottles of lotion jostled for space with hair ties and stray earrings, a chaotic jumble that mirrored the turmoil within her own mind.
And there, amidst the disorder, sat the small, unassuming box that held the key to her fate, the answer to the question that had haunted her for weeks.
With hands that trembled like leaves in a storm, Y/N reached for the box, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as she tore at the plastic wrap. The pregnancy test felt heavy in her palm, a tiny stick of plastic that held the power to change her life forever. She stared at it for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to summon the courage to take the next step.
y/n had bought the pregnancy test on a whim, a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind that refused to be silenced. She had always taken pride in her appearance, in the way she maintained her figure through rigorous exercise and a carefully controlled diet. But lately, no matter how much she pushed herself at the gym or how little she ate, the numbers on the scale continued to climb.
She thought back to the dinner with her parents, to the cruel words her mother had hurled at her like poisoned darts. Fat. Lazy. Worthless. The insults had cut deep, leaving invisible scars that ached with every breath. And now, with each passing day, those scars seemed to grow, festering like open wounds that refused to heal.
And then there were the other symptoms, the ones she had tried so hard to ignore. The sudden bouts of tearfulness that overtook her at the most inconvenient moments, leaving her sobbing in the grocery store aisle or curled up on the couch in the middle of the day. The strange cravings that hit her out of nowhere, leaving her ravenous for foods she had never even liked before.
With a deep breath, Y/N tore open the box, her hands shaking as she removed the small, plastic stick from its packaging. She read the instructions carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she followed the steps, her mind racing with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last.
Y/N's mind raced with a thousand different scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. What if she was pregnant? What would Quinn say? Would he be happy, or would he see it as a burden, a trap that would tie him down and ruin his promising career? And what about her own dreams, the hopes and aspirations she had clung to like a lifeline in the face of her family's suffocating expectations?
She felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over her, and she gripped the edge of the vanity for support, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grasp.
The room seemed to spin around her, the walls and floor blurring together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color and light. She closed her eyes, taking deep, shuddering breaths as she tried to regain her composure.
After what felt like an eternity, Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze falling once more on the pregnancy test that lay on the counter, its display window facing downward. She knew that she couldn't put it off any longer, that she had to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be. With a trembling hand, she reached for the test, her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.
But at the last moment, she faltered, her courage failing her. Instead of looking at the result, she tossed the test into the trash can, burying it beneath a pile of crumpled tissues and discarded cotton balls. She couldn't bear to see the truth, couldn't face the reality of what it might mean for her future.
The sound of the shower called to her then, the steam billowing out from behind the glass doors like a siren's song. Y/N stripped off her clothes mechanically, her mind numb with fear and confusion. As she stepped under the spray, the hot water hit her skin like a thousand tiny needles, the pain a welcome distraction from the chaos that raged within her.
She let the water wash over her, her eyes closed as she tried to lose herself in the sensation. The heat seeped into her bones, melting away the tension that had coiled within her like a snake ready to strike. She breathed in the damp, misty air, the scent of her lavender shampoo mingling with the steam in a heady, intoxicating aroma.
Behind her, the pregnancy test lay abandoned in the trash can, its display window hidden from view. Y/N had thrown it away without even looking at the result, too afraid of what it might reveal. She knew that she would have to face the truth eventually, that she couldn't hide from reality forever.  
in this moment, alone in the bathroom with nothing but the sound of the water and the pounding of her own heart, Y/N allowed herself to be still, to exist in a world where the future was still unwritten, and anything was possible.
She clung to that fleeting sense of peace like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft, knowing that it was all she had left to keep her afloat in the stormy seas of her own mind.
Quinn turned the key in the lock, the soft click echoing through the stillness of the house. He pushed the door open, the familiar scent of home washing over him like a comforting balm. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the streetlamps outside the windows.
He set his bag down by the door, the heavy thud of it hitting the floor breaking the silence. His shoes came off next, the laces loosened and the soles kicked off with a careless ease. He padded across the carpet in his socks, his footsteps muffled by the thick, plush fibers.
The house was quiet, almost eerily so. Quinn listened for any sign of Y/N, any hint of her presence, but he was met with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of a car passing by on the street outside. He wasn't surprised by the silence, given the late hour of his arrival. Y/N was likely already in bed, lost in the sweet oblivion of sleep.
Quinn made his way down the hallway, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The bathroom door was ajar, the soft glow of the nightlight spilling out into the darkness. He pushed the door open, the hinges creaking softly as he stepped inside.
The first thing he noticed was the damp carpet beneath his feet, the fibers squishing slightly with each step. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at Y/N's characteristic forgetfulness. She always seemed to leave a trail of water behind her after her showers, a small quirk that he found strangely endearing.
Quinn reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The cool air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, sending a slight shiver down his spine. He tossed the shirt into the hamper, the fabric landing with a soft thud amidst the pile of dirty clothes.
He turned on the shower, the water sputtering to life and filling the room with a soft, steady hiss. As he waited for the water to heat up, Quinn's gaze drifted around the small space, taking in the familiar surroundings.
The white tile gleamed in the soft light, the grout lines perfectly straight and clean. The mirror above the sink was slightly fogged, the edges blurred with condensation.
And then, out of the corner of his eye, Quinn caught a glint of something shiny, a flash of light that seemed out of place in the muted tones of the bathroom. He furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued by the strange reflection.
He scanned the room, his eyes searching for the source of the light. And then he saw it, a small, foil-wrapped object nestled in the bottom of the trash can. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden sense of unease washing over him like a cold wave.
Quinn crept closer to the trash can, his steps slow and cautious. He peered down into the empty bin, his eyes widening as he recognized the shape of the object within. It was a pregnancy test, the plastic stick lying stark and white against the dark plastic of the can.
With trembling fingers, Quinn reached into the trash, grasping the test by its hilt. He lifted it out of the can, his heart pounding in his chest as he turned it over, the display window facing upward.
The moment of truth, the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had noticed Y/N's strange behavior over the past few weeks. The late-night tears, the unexplained mood swings, the way she seemed to retreat into herself, lost in a world of her own thoughts and fears.
Quinn stared at the test, his eyes tracing the lines that appeared in the small window. And then, with a sudden, sickening clarity, he saw it. Two lines, bold and unmistakable against the white background.
Positive. Y/N was pregnant.
Quinn felt the world tilt beneath his feet, his mind reeling with the implications of what he had just discovered. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles white as he gripped the cool porcelain. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his lungs burning with the effort of drawing in air.
Tag List <3
@ru-kru, @bunbunbl0gs, @hischierswhore, @alwaysclassyeagle, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691, @fulla02, @njdkatie, @dancerbailey3. @jamieeboulos, @ceces-obsessions
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remidyal · 3 days
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Outstanding antagonists after Junior Year
This post is as much for myself for fanfic purposes as it is for any speculation regarding a Senior Year that may never happen and even if it does would be I think at an absolute minimum three years and more likely 4-5 down the road, but I wanted to round up the known potential antagonists remaining out in the world, roughly ranked in order of known hostility:
Chungledown Bim. Certainly the MOST hostile of opponents, we know he's not dead post-Boy's Night (whenever Boy's Night is supposed to fit into the Quangle) because he's on Fabian's nemesis alert.
Arianwen Abernant. Evidently she has recovered her magic, probably while Cassandra was corrupted into a more Nightmare King-ish state. She was pretty pissed at Aelwyn and Adaine the last time we saw her over the whole death of Angwyn thing; I somehow don't think being chased around Sylvaire by the vand will have improved her mood.
Bobby Dawn. The full extent of his involvement in the Junior Year plot is uncertain, but he sure as hell wasn't helping things. Also some real potential hate between him and the party over the Sandra Lynn thing; while Fig might be gone in a Senior Year I'm going to ignore that for these rankings and in any case Sandra Lynn still lives with Kristen and Adaine regardless, so I think that conflict would be born out. I also think there's a strong case for a clash of pantheons style story going on in the background, and Bobby here would be front and center on the Sol-Helio-maybe Galicaea side.
Kalina. I don't necessarily think Kalina actually IS a traitor to Cassandra the way that Kristen thinks and Ankarna thinks; I almost believe that her turning up at the end of Junior Year was a reaction to them deciding to hunt her, in fact. That being said, while I think Kalina is fully team Cassandra, I also think (and even understand!) that she is most definitely NOT team Kristen, who did let Cassandra kind-of-die and now is splitting her attention. So what's Kalina's play now? I think she's going to try to push for Bobby Dawn to add Cassandra back to the Sol-Helio-Galicaea pantheon, which would be to her a much more stable foundation to keep Cassandra alive on than Kristen.
The Automatons that are going to be hunting Fig. Yes, these are self-evidently a way to excuse that Fig won't be around to help out if there's a senior year and Emily chooses to not play Fig. They're also kind of hilarious, especially since they open up all kinds of questions like 'wait did Sandra Lynn spend her first year of adventuring fighting off killer statues of Arthur Aguefort?' They'd be higher except they're only hostile to 1/6th of the Bad Kids.
Gertie Bladeshield. Also only hostile to 1/6th of the Bad Kids at present, though Cassandra knows if any of them speak up in Kristen's defense she'll probably swear a vow of emnity to them too. Could probably be made up with via a sincere apology, or at least by setting her up with someone.
The Court of Stars and Princess Nara. Now we're into the dubiously hostile territory, because this might not lead to actual conflict, but if there IS a clash of pantheons between the Sol one and the Ankarna-Cass one then the most obvious fight other than Cassandra is over where Galicaea ends up. The members of the Court of Stars we met this season seemed much more, um, I'll use the word chilled out than Angwyn and Kir of last year, but it still feels like a mercurial thing.
Arthur Aguefort. I've been saying for a very long time that the only boss fight that makes sense for a Senior Year IS to have to fight Arthur Aguefort himself; it doesn't even necessarily have to be a 'he's evil' sort of thing, but could just be a 'you're the best party we've had in centuries and I wanna throw down'. He dropped some hints at it in the finale, of course, too!
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cheeseceli · 1 day
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I'll be waiting
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Pairing: idol Bang Chan × Gn!reader
Genre: fluff, angst, friends to potential lovers, fic (1.6k words)
Prompt: "Even ten years from now, if you haven't found somebody I promise I'll be around. Tell me when you're ready. I'm waiting"
Warnings: for a short moment there's a bit of unrequited love, happy ending tho. Mentions of insecurity back to the trainee days.
A/n: the longest fic I've ever done, I'm kinda proud of it ngl
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Patience might be Chan's biggest virtue, he thinks to himself. By seeing where he's right now and where he was ten years ago, he smiles. He couldn't agree more with that statement.
2014
He still remembers the first time he saw you.
Monthly evaluation. At this point, Chan should already be used to this whole process of the trainee life. However, that day felt particularly depressing to him. Hopeless, he would say.
He had found out that JYP was about to debut a new group. A girl group. And as much as Bang Chan tried to be completely happy for his friends who could finally try and debut, he had to admit he was somewhat jealous. Four years of training and he felt like he was heading towards nowhere.
Still, he tried to practice. He sang the song he would showcase so many times he reached the point of not even feeling the words leaving his mouth. He was so lost he also didn't notice the presence of someone else in the practice room. That is, until you clapped.
Chan turned his head towards you, low-key surprised. He recognised you as the child of one of the Got7's staff. He couldn't remember your name though. He doubted he even heard it at all.
"Sorry" you finally spoke. Your voice was pretty "I'm looking for my dad. Your voice is very beautiful though. You're doing well." And with a thumbs up you went away.
Chan couldn't help but laugh. Now that was random. He could barely process what happened. But you complimented him. It had been a while since he last heard a genuine compliment.
Somewhere inside his mind, he repeated his words nonstop, filling him with motivation and hope. He also was trying to remember to ask your name later.
2016
He did remember to ask your name after all. Y/n L/n. The pronunciation of your name was beautiful, almost like a melody. Honestly, after two years of knowing you, he could affirm that your existence itself was like a sweet melody.
You both became friends, good ones at that. He also found himself developing feelings for you. That was the saddest part of it all in his opinion.
Even though he hadn't known you for so long, he couldn't see life without you. To live without your horrible jokes (that he always found funny), without your sunshine-like personality (even though most people wouldn't describe you like that. Maybe you were his personal dose of light) felt like a nightmare.
However, it felt a bit cruel that he needed to live like that. He wanted to be an idol. You were the one who was his biggest incentive. Then why, to have a romance with you, could bring problems to his career? It was almost as if destiny liked to make chan suffer.
Pick one.
Happily, Chan was patient. So patient that he decided to wait for you as long as needed. He had hopes that any time now, you would come to him. And he would be ready.
Meanwhile, he focused on becoming an idol. He couldn't give up now, especially given the fact that he knew you'd be in the front row, cheering for him louder than everyone else.
2018
He kept his promise: he followed his dream, finally achieving the so exciting debut, and still waited for you, his crush developing into the most sincere love he ever felt.
However, you had other plans. Of course, you were still there for him. You were probably the one who got the happiest with the results of the survival show. You spent countless nights with him on the practice room and in the studio. You were seeing his dream come true in first hand.
But this time, there was someone else besides you: your current boyfriend. Chan really doesn't know why he didn't think this could've happened. Of course, you were dating. You were smart, beautiful and had so much love to give. Someone else would've fallen for you at some point. And it was unfair of him to expect you to be single, waiting for an empty promise.
The saddest part of it was that your boyfriend was a nice guy. It was clear he loved you. He even made an effort to love everyone who you loved, including Chan himself. You were happy around him.
Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Chan got the job, you got someone to love - someone who could adore you without being scared of the media - and you both still got each other in the end.
Maybe that was what Chan could have. It's okay, right?
2020
The downfall of Chan's patience at last.
Although you both were still as close as you always were, life was leading each of you in your own direction.
You had a job, he had a job. You had your friends, he had his members. You had your own house, he had the dorms. You had your boyfriend, he didn't have a partner. But it was okay because he didn't even have the time after all.
Still, he tried to fall for someone else during this period. Being in this industry for two years now, he had the opportunity to meet a lot of people. Some fancied him, some tried to take a step further in a somewhat relationship. Some even wanted to just have fun. Chan swears he tried to give in most of the time.
Needless to say he failed at every try. He couldn't come close to someone without wishing it was you instead. His short answers were compared to how sweetly he talked to you. He didn't even bother to call people or have long conversations. He knew it was only a matter of time until his mind started the undesired comparison.
Maybe it was what the job required. Maybe it was because of his lack of time. Han disagrees though. Chan remembers how his friend insisted on the fact that his leader wouldn't even try with other people. But it wasn't his fault either, as it was a subconscious thing. Chan's mind was still wrapped around you. And his heart wanted to disagree, but it all goes down the moment he finds out you and your boyfriend, now your ex, had broken up.
Although he tried hard to deny, he couldn't help but still wait for you. No matter if there was a light at the end of the tunnel or if it was only darkness. He would wait.
2022
Something in your brain has switched, and Bang Chan can't say he really liked the difference.
Of course, you were still the greatest person he ever met. You were still his sunshine. But it seemed like you were tired. Your conception of life and love wasn't as bright as it once was and Chan couldn't help but feel worried about it.
For him, who has loved you deeply for over eight years now, to see you giving yourself less credit and affection hurt him. He doesn't know why and when it happened, but your brain was trying to shut down all genuine feelings one could offer to you. You thought you were, maybe, undeserving of it all.
Honestly, to see you slowly losing your light has wounded Chan way more than all his past experiences: from his fear of failure to his disappointment upon meeting your ex boyfriend. Almost as an instinct,he tried to solve the situation. This time, patience wouldn't do.
Without even noticing, he started to love you more. To actually show you how he cared for you, to put his feelings into words and actions. At first, your heart tried to deny any possible affection, but it soon realised it wasn't possible. Not when Chan didn't even hesitate on showing the entire world how you were worthy of love. And not once he showed it as a challenge or a burden. He was by your side, and he never made it seem hard.
The best part of it all was that none of you noticed it. He started to open up to you to try and protect you,and you opened up to him in order to heal and protect his feelings. Maybe that was patience finally showing itself as a virtue.
2024
Ten years later, it finally happened.
Honestly, Chan was still a bit suspicious. There was no way he was actually seeing this, right? Maybe he was becoming delusional after all. Maybe he started to hallucinate because of his desires. But at the same time, it felt too real.
The way you looked at him, that is. It was just a normal conversation between old friends. Between gossips and laughs, there was absolutely no reason for you to look at him like this. So lost in thought, with this shimmer in your eyes that Chan knew way too well. He knew it because he had it too.
It was love. Not the one nurtured by friends or family. The one shared just between lovers. And he was so sure of it because he knew he looked at you in the exact same way you were looking at him right now.
He smiles. For a moment, you're a bit lost, wondering if you lost a joke or an important moment. That, however, makes him laugh. He couldn't believe he just saw you fall in love on the first row.
Ah, he's been patient. Now, he can't wait for you to realise what just happened. Either way, he knows with a smile on his face that he'll be waiting for you.
I promise I'll be around.
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: summer with you
Thank you for reading <3 let me know what you think about it!
Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143
Dividers by @dollywons
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
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latenightdaydreams · 13 hours
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Can you please write part of roommate reader? I've hoped it could be a new series 🥺🥺 I'm obsessed with that story lol😩😩😩
yes!! ofc!! 💗
Roommates Part 2 (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 1
Master List (✍🏽)
>cw: fem/afab, oral, p in v, squirting, dirty talk
2.3k word count
🏠
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Two weeks have passed since König moved in, since the incident happened. You still haven’t talked to him much other than an awkward “hello” here and there. König has been understanding of your behavior, but he honestly wishes you both could move past it. He was wondering if maybe he should just move out.
Today, as you walk out of your room, the aromatic smell of coffee hits you. You see, König leaning against the sink, wearing only gray sweatpants. In his hand he holds a mug of coffee and in the other his phone as he scrolled on it. His blue eyes look up and land on you. A smile forms on his lips, shoving his cell phone into his pocket.
“Guten Morgen. Would you like some coffee? It just finished brewing.” He smiles and shows off his sharp canines.
“Um, no thanks.” You say awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.
Trying to ignore him as you walk to the pantry and grab a box of cereal. Then you hear the cabinet open and you see König grabbing a bowl for you. He holds it out for you and you nod in thanks. As you place it all on the table, you see König opening the fridge to get you the milk.
“You don’t have to do everything for me.”
“I don’t mind.” He looks at you as he places the milk on the table and lingers for a while. “I just feel bad for making you feel uncomfortable in your own home.”
“It- you did nothing wrong. Honestly. I’m just, well, mortified.” You say as you fidget with the flap on the box of cereal.
“You don’t have to be. I understand how awkward it must be for you, but please know I don’t judge you for it. If we could just start over and pretend it never happened, I’d like that a lot.”
König looks at you, waiting to see if you’d accept his offer. His eyes drift to your breasts as you look away, trailing up along the curve of your neck and back to your eyes as you look back at him.
“I’d like that.”
A wide smile creeps across König’s lips. “I’m glad.”
That was the start of a slow developing relationship. Eating breakfast together and chatting before bed became somewhat of a ritual for the both of you. Slowly, you both opened up to each other about life goals and past challenges. Without realizing it, you both have revolved your routines around seeing one another. The last few months together have been the happiest he’s been in decades.
Today, when you got home from work, there was a different vibe in the apartment. You kicked off your shoes and placed your bag down by the door.
König’s blue eyes trail up your body, not caring to be discreet. An open beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. You both look at each other for a moment before you walk forward to the couch and sit next to him.
“Are you okay?”
König doesn’t respond right away; he leans back into the throw pillows. “I’m getting deployed soon.” His blue eyes meet you again. Usually, he wouldn’t care, but he’s been slowly building a relationship with you and now he is being pulled away from you. You’ve felt like home. He’s wasted all this time
“Oh, for how long?” You try to mask the disappointment in your tone.
“Anywhere from six months to a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
“It is.” König’s eyes trail down from your eyes to your lips.
“When do you leave?”
“In three days.” He says, reaching forward for the beer and taking a swig.
Your jaw drops, looking surprised to hear how soon he will leave you. It’s his job, but right now you feel selfish because you want him to stay. You’ll miss his company, miss him.
“The apartment will feel empty without you.” The words flow from your lips with a hint of sorrow.
König forces a small smile. “I really like you.” It was time you both stopped acting like shy teenagers and just got your feelings out there for one another. “I have feelings for you.”
This isn’t recent news to you; you’ve always sort of known he likes you. The way he gazes at you, packs lunches for you, and smiles when he sees you- it’s all very obvious. You’re pretty sure he already knows that you like him, too.
“I have feelings for you, too.”
König’s eyes light up as you confess your feelings are mutual. A smirk comes across his lips. A wave of confidence comes over him as he leans towards you, his hand cupping your face as he places a tender kiss on your lips.
It’s as if sparks go off and travel throughout your whole body as your lips meet. You kiss back eagerly, your lips pressing harder into his as one of your hands moves to his thigh. The feeling of your warm hand makes him shiver.
He slowly pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you. In his mind, he is running through the different ways he can ask you for more. Ask you to wait for him to come back. Give him your body so he can have something to remember while away, other than the mental image you squirting. Months have been wasted because he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you.
You can see the look in his eyes, your hand lightly squeezes his thigh. “Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”
“I want you.” He finally says. You’ll either agree or reject him. It felt as if a lifetime passed before he felt you move your hand up his thigh more.
“I want you too.”
Words aren’t needed anymore. He grabs your waist and brings you on to his lap. His mouth pressing into yours, opening to lick your bottom lip. You accept him into your mouth as your tongues swirl together. His gigantic hands caress your body, one trailing down the curve of your hip and the other under your shirt, climbing up to your bra.
You can feel his erection press into you, small moans leaving both of your lips into each other’s mouths. His hand slips underneath your bra and cups your breast in his hand. Your skin is so warm and soft. A groan leaving his mouth as his fingers pinch your nipple.
König pulls his mouth away from yours and lifts your shirt off of your body. His lips find yours again as he tosses the shirt on the back of the couch. He reaches around your body to unhook your bra as your tongues flick over one another’s. 
He pulls back again and looks down at your glorious breasts. “Wow.” He looks at you, speechless, for a moment. His eyes meet yours as his mouth drifts to your chest. In one hand, he grips your heavy breast and brings it to his mouth. His tongue reaches out and flicks at your nipple. A small whimper leaves your lips before he wraps his lips around your nipple, latching on to it. Your fingers comb through his messy blonde hair as his mouth hungrily goes back and forth between both breasts.
His fingers fidget with the belt you're wearing, trying to pull your bottoms off of you as fast as he can. You assist him and unbutton your pants, lifting your ass so he can pull your pants off of you. Lips leaving your breasts, he lets his gaze roam over your body. He runs his fingers down your thighs. A little of prickly hair, but König couldn’t care less.
“You’re stunning.” He says, his voice lower than a whisper.
König stands with you in his arms, turning to place you on the couch. He lays you back, almost recreating when he walked in on you, masturbating. It’s all he’s been thinking about, fucking you in that position.
“It was a busy day at work.” You say bashfully, worried about your pussy maybe smelling.
“Perfect.” König says as he continues to kiss down your body.
A blush comes across your face as you look down at him kissing all over your belly, under your belly, your hips, and moving down… You let out a pleasured gasp as he kisses your pussy lips. His hands grasping your legs and spreading them apart, placing one over his arm and the other resting on the coffee table. He kisses up and down your pussy without kicking you. His eyes closed as if he was kissing a lover. Breathing in deeply and taking in your raw natural scent.
Finally, his eyes open and make eye contact with you. His fat tongue pressed down on to your pussy and swipes up quickly, parting your folds around his tongue. You taste fucking divine. He lets out a groan once your juices touch his taste buds.
Your hand reaches out to the back of his head, holding him against you. Moans flowing from your lips as he rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit. His free hand slides up your leg to your pussy. One finger circles around the entrance of your vagina. Slowly, he slips it in. His finger curved upwards as he slowly begins to move it in and out of it.
You close your eyes and drop your head back, letting your body fully appreciate the pleasure it’s receiving right now. Legs twitching as his tongue and arm moves faster. One of your hands moves to your nipple. You tug on it, catching König’s attention.
His cock is rock hard in his pants, absent-mindedly grinding his hips into the couch cushion. The moans you make match what he heard that day he walked in on you. A second finger slips in as his eyes watch you closely. Your hand moves from his head and squeezes the pillows behind your head.
“König, I’m going to cum.” Your voice is higher pitched.
“Are you going to squirt for your König?”
“Yes!” Your back arches as your body trembles. “Fuucckkk!”
König gets hit in the face by your squirting. He opens his mouth and drinks you in, finally being able to taste you. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he rubs them over your clit quickly. He shoves his face into your cunt and shakes his head back and forth.
“Fuck you’re amazing.” He growls.
His hands quickly pull down his pants. He pulls his shirt over his head to reveal his scarred body to you. Your eyes trace over his muscular but soft body as he stands and pulls down his boxes. You try to not act surprised seeing how hung he is when deep down inside you’re worried it will hurt.
König kneels on the couch in front of you, pulling your hips to him. He rubs his raw cock against your clit, getting himself covered in your cum. Since he is a big guy, this angle was a little awkward. One leg over his shoulder, the other one resting down, he lowers himself to kiss your lips.
“Beg for my pussy.” You look into his blue eyes.
König is absolutely shocked, but fuck was that hot.
“Please let me fuck your pussy.” He begs almost pathetically. Never has he been put in this position before. “Please I need to feel you.” He whispers, leaning down and kissing your neck softly. His hips rock against you, aching to thrust into you.
“Fuck me.”
König didn’t hesitate, he thrust into you. He watches your face as he does. Your face scrunches as you feel him bottom out inside of you. Shoving his 10-inch cock into you as much as you’ll take. Whimpers leave your lips and your eyes maintain contact with his.
“That’s it, Liebling. You can take me.” His voice is low and sensual. Slowly he pulls back and thrust into you again, harder this time.
“Oh my god! Please fuck me!” You’ve never felt a cock this good before, not even your toys can compare. His hips begin to slam into you.
Pathetic little mewls escape your mouth as your eyes flutter back. A cocky grin appears on his face as he sees you turn from that dominant woman to a cock hungry mess.
“You take my cock so well, meine Kleine Hure.”
Not speaking German, you’re unaware he just called you his little whore, but the tone in his voice excites you. Your eyes stay locked on his as his hips roll into you at a rapid pace. The feeling of your wet pussy wrapping tightly around him is pushing him to the edge.
“I’m going to cum Liebling…” He pants as he leans in to kiss on your neck. His cock begins to throb as he moans loudly, moaning out your name. You caress his body as he lays on you, catching his breath.
König sits up, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you up with him. Your body straddles his lap as you both kiss.
“I want you to be mine. I want to know that I have you to come home to. That your body and mind are mine.” He kisses your cheek softly, waiting for your response.
His words make you pause, you pull away to look into his eyes. You trace each scar that covers his handsome face, trying to memorize him and this moment, knowing he will be leaving soon.
“I’ll wait for you. I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours, Liebling.”
König leans in to kiss your lips again, addicted to the way you taste. Even the way your breath smells. He’s just in love with everything about you.
“What does Liebling mean?”
“Oh, it’s like calling you, my love.”
“That’s really cute.” You giggle and think back to sex. “What does Kleine Hure mean?” The German words come out pronounced terribly, but König understood.
König clears his throat and blushes, “Oh, uh-”
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vynnyal · 18 hours
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Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂
#rain world#comic#rw chasing wind#sunlit Trail#Hunter#Art#Chasing wind spoilers#I can't imagine anyone filters that tag but just in case sksksks#ANYWAYS turns out mod is way better than I expected and it's super well made.#So far made the trip as hunter (first time) then riv and now working on arti.#For arti I realized that howling rifts led to sub and sub led to dar shore so I was like sweet! A shortcut!#Now imagine for a sec trying to get through a parkcore + miros bird gauntlet with a corpse and a worm within 5 cycles#before the scav ran out of karma and you were stuck inside forever. Yeah#Besides that tho I've been messing around and been very tenderly modding the game.#Turns out you can have a bit of fun with most sprites without too much effort by simply cloning the MSC mod in your files#Then changing the copy's mod info so it doesn't clash and simply swapping images out for whatever you want#As long as you have the sprite name you can do this. You can also change region names and decals and music all sorts of stuff.#In short I've been brewing a custom mod for a friend to make her suffer as much as possible <3#Thanks to a buddy on the rw server for showing me that trick btw lol. The best cesspool I've ever participated in#Oh before I forget- the symbol on CW's head is completely made up. They just looked so... Bald.#Tbh I wasn't expecting their personality to be so... bright? Most interpretations make them kinda solemn and gloomy#But nah this CW is what NSH should've been 100%. I like them. Not gonna spoil too much but their situation is somehow so... chill.#Still bad tho!#Other fun news! There's a scammer going around on discord that's basically like ''bad news I reported you for fraud''#And they're getting a lot of people. My buddy that owned my home server got hit and we lost everything. It's all OK tho nobody was hurt#I keep trying to ask them questions on my alts but they're ignoring me... I kinda wanna bait them into doing the scam with me#to see how far I get before they catch on 😜#Wasting a scammer's time is never a waste of time#Ah I had more to say but I reached my tag max. Till next time- hopefully my animation project will be done by then!
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tenelkadjowrites · 1 day
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i've been putting off making a formal announcement on this blog but i think i've reached a point where i can say the blog as everyone knows it is...done. the hiatus has turned into a retirement of sorts.
basically, going forward, there is no promise of any fics being posted, no more tag lists, no more icon/header changes for a hwa fic, etc. fics can be posted randomly and not just be focused on hwa, it'll be about whatever catches my attention and i want to write a fic on. this could mean months upon months with no update. it could mean i never update again. idk i am not really focusing on it.
so yeah, thats the short version. longer version under the cut.
the thing about running this blog is that over time it ended up being whatever idea i had needed to be tweaked in order to feel comfortable post it here. that could be trying to put smut scenes in, or thinking about the dynamic and how it would come across to an audience, or if i went too long without posting and it would weigh on me.
after my move to toronto, i hit burn out with the blog. i missed writing original works, and i missed the genre exploration i liked to do with original pieces such as horror. i dealt with a sort of nagging guilt if i didn't post on here for long periods of time and i felt like if i kept pushing against how my brain was going, the fics posted here would suffer in quality.
ppl who have read this far know that i don't pay attention to the amount of notes i get on my fics. i write the ideas because i want to write them. that's been my rule and once i got the sense i was writing for the blog and not writing cuz i wanted to, i realized i needed to step away from it.
so going forward, the only time this blog will be updated is if i got a story idea that naturally and organically was planned as a fic in my head. this could mean no more hwa fics ever again. it could mean fics about random video game characters. it could mean more star wars fics. or it could mean i don't update for a really long time. i don't know what form it will take. i'm not really focusing on that.
while this blog was my primary focus, i met a lot of amazing people and ended up meeting people that now mean so much to me. i had tons of nice messages sent to me. i never thought i'd get 3k followers here and that wasn't my goal, it just ended up happening.
if you read all this, thanks, and thank you to everyone who took the time to read anything i posted, it means a lot. i'll be at the toronto ateez show if anyone wants to say hi.
my main blog is @hologramhoneymoon - you can follow me there for a lot of random reblogs from a lot of random things.
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missxmav · 3 days
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fix you too - jake seresin ; ch 2
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(loosely based on 'fix you too' - megan moroney ft. kameron marlowe)
Summary: Jake had a summer fling the year he graduated from Top Gun, but what he doesn't know is that she's still in Miramar with more than just a fleeting memory of the green eyed pilot. (multi-part series!!) Word count: 1,100+ Warnings: no use of y/n, some assumption about size, reader is gendered afab (but I promise I'm trying to get better at the neutral tone!), mentions of pregnancy/single parenting A/N: This is the first reader fic I've posted in almost 10 (!!!) years, please be gentle. (I'm rusty as F*CK) anyways, I'm head over heels for the top gun universe and my husband makes fun of me for it, so this is my creative release (: pls enjoy A/N part two: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST 😭 and I know it's not very long but I'm currently writing chapter 4 already!! I've just been so absorbed in my externship that I haven't had time to share. the next few chapters will be much longer once May is over! previous chapter. next chapter.
Three years earlier…
Jake cradled the side of her face as a distant look crossed his, green eyes wandering across her features as he took a moment of pause. How the hell was he supposed to tell her that he just got an assignment for 6 months, the same length of time they've been seeing each other, and he ships off tomorrow… “I'm leaving…” His voice was low and raspy, as if he had a hard time getting the words out. His thumb grazed her cheek bone.  Never had it been so hard for the lieutenant to break away from one of his flings.
She just blinked at him, her mouth falling open and closed in an attempt to make words, but nothing came. She could almost feel her heart shattering inside her chest as it began rabbiting against her ribcage. Her eyes frantically searched his face for anything else to go off of before she muttered a very reserved, “Okay.” Jake winced at how that one word felt heavier than the world, “Sweetheart, I'm so sorry.” The ocean lapping at their ankles became increasingly colder as he could feel her withdrawing. His voice wavered before he took a deep breath to continue, “It's a six month deployment, I just don't want to keep you waiting.” She bit her lips anxiously and said, "I-It’s okay, Jake. I get it.” Her hand reached up to pull his hand away from her face, her fingers lingering around his wrist for a second as she looked up at him. A chaste kiss was pressed to his cheek and she turned to walk out of the water, making her way to her SUV in the parking lot instead of gracing the bar again. Silent tears streamed down her face as she ignored Jake calling out to her from the beach, not noticing the tears also streaking his face as the one person he thought he could love forever just walked away from him…
Jake had only been ashore for a couple days now, his new assignment coming down the pipeline while he was still aboard the ship. Top Gun, special detachment, no further detail until the day of. This was just the kind of mission Jake lived for.
He smiled as he pulled into the familiar setting, parking his truck in the back forty of the lot because he didn't want to take up too much room for other patrons. The California coastal air hugged him as he pushed open the truck door. There was just something different about the sunsets on North Island that always made him feel welcomed. 
Though that warm feeling quickly faltered when he looked up, and was met with the sight of an eerily familiar silver SUV parked closer to the docks. Jake shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to erase the image from his mind because he was surely dreaming right now… There's no way she's still here all these years later, right?
Jake swallowed thickly as he closed the door to his black Silverado, replacing the frown on his face with his typical cocky smile as he saw Javy wave him down from the doors of the Hard Deck. His fellow pilot had two beers in hand and was beckoning him to the dartboard. 
Jake was determined not to dwell on those thoughts as the two men reminisced for a while. Even though Javy tried many times to beat the Texan pilot, even going so far to block his view… Bullseye. Every time. Jake conceded and offered to buy Coyote a beer to sooth his sore losing streak.
With a sly smile laced on his lips, Jake shook his head with a laugh and pushed through the doors of the Hard Deck so he could retrieve his wallet from his truck. Once he looked up, the air inside his lungs seized as he recognized the sight before him.
He would've known that laugh anywhere, the way the curve of her silhouette cast a shadow along the silver SUV as she busied herself in the backseat. There was no denying now that the suspicious vehicle belonged to someone he had only dreamed of seeing again. The sight made the smile vanish from his lips as he debated approaching her or just heading to his truck, the latter would've been the safest bet but he cursed internally as his feet carried him towards her.
He paused hesitantly in his pursuit when she closed the back door of her car and rounded the back side to close the hatch too. His reflection in the tinted glass caused the woman in front of him to freeze completely, the confidence in her posture quickly shrinking as she spun around and braced herself against the vehicle. 
Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out before she closed it quickly, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she blinked back at him. Her inability to say something to him made the heartbeat in his ears unbearably loud as he took a hesitant step towards her. His eyes trailed up and down her for a moment before he said anything. 
“As I live and breathe… Is that really you?” Jake asked quietly, his southern drawl was thick as he willed his voice not to crack. His heart raced and all the hairs on his body stood at attention under her panicked stare. 
Her voice wavered slightly as the only word she managed to get out was his name, her expression was almost scared and it only served to make Jake's brows furrow further. She glanced nervously into the back of the SUV again, internally cursing herself and hoping that he hadn't seen her with the child, but it was in vain as his seafoam green eyes followed hers immediately.
He shifted his weight onto one foot when he returned his eyes to her face, the smallest genuine smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You look fantastic,” He drawled slightly, taking another step forward so that he was standing just a couple feet away from her. “The kiddo belong to a friend?” Jake asked softly, seeing more of the situation than she had hoped.
She laughed nervously as one of her arms snaked around her exposed mid-section, an anxiety induced habit from suddenly feeling too exposed in this swimsuit. Her other hand braced itself against the back of her vehicle, drawing absent-mindedly in the sandy bumper. “Uh, no… She's mine, actually.” Her eyes met his, her mind racing as she resisted the urge to say ‘and yours’ inside her brain. 
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It all started under a duvet held up by an oar
Not so long ago I emailed Chris Tester, the voice of Heinrix van Calox in Owlcat’s recently released CRPG Rogue Trader, and asked if he would like to sit for an interview with me. Having some experience in interviewing people I like, most famously Oscar winner and all-around sweetheart Eddie Redmayne, this was not a completely nerve-wracking endeavour. And within a day of sending my email, Chris said yes. And what a pleasure it was interviewing him: Chris was so generous with his time, that the agreed upon 30 minutes turned into 50 minutes as we brushed upon many topics from his start as a theatre actor to his first voice-over role in a video game to his recently discovered hobby of playing D&D. Of course, we also spoke about all things Warhammer 40k, his new found fame brought on by voicing Heinrix and the insights he could share about the character.
I will publish this interview in three parts over the next week in text form and with the accompanying audio file (the audio quality is not spectacular but tumblr limits uploads to 10MB). If you quote or reshare, please quote me as the original source.
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Fran: Thank you very much for taking your time.
Chris Tester: That's no problem. No problem at all.
F: So then let's start. You graduated in 2008.
CT: I did. Yes.
F: You started out as a stage actor. Did you always want to become a stage actor or an actor in general? Tell us a bit about your career.
CT: I always wanted to be a stage actor. Yes, as soon as I knew that I wanted to be an actor, which probably wasn't until I was a teenager. But yeah, my first passion was always the stage, and that was kind of borne out in my career. I would have been open to TV and film of course, if it had come along, I'm a huge fan of TV and film as well, but I never got an audition for any TV or film work.
I think I literally did about three short films in my 10, 12 years of actually professionally acting, and it is one of those industries where the more you do of one thing, the more you seem to find yourself doing the same thing to a degree. So yes, watching Shakespeare from an early age was one of my first passions.
And that was what first planted the seed of wanting to do it myself. The whole aspect of live performance is still something that I'm very passionate about. Up until 2020, when the world changed, I was trying to do two or three theatre shows a year, but since 2020, I haven't been near a stage and I doubt right now, especially with the way that the UK theatre scene is going, that I'm going to be back on stage anytime soon. I am resigned to that, but at some point in my career, I know I will be on stage again, because I can't live without it, but only for the right thing, both financially, but more importantly, creatively.
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F: Your production company is currently on hiatus?
CT: I was the producer of a theatre company, which was run and was the baby of the director of the company, a guy called Ross Armstrong, who's one of the most talented writers and directors that I've ever worked with. I was helping out with a lot of the administration stuff so that he could still put me in plays. Instead of creating my own work because I'm not a very good writer or the best writer in the world, I support those people who will write me good parts. So yes, it is currently on hiatus, but never say never, we would always be looking to get back. It's difficult right now. It's difficult for all of us, because arts council subsidy, that way of being able to fund stuff, is drying up. We were doing a national tour of the UK when we were doing that [with the support of a subsidy]. There's even less money, there's even more people. I won't bore you with anything more than that, but it's kind of tough. We'd like to come back, but in the right way, and that's tricky to negotiate.
F: It's always hard as a stage actor to earn a living.
CT: Well, I've been spoiled by voice-over as well, and whereas when I was in my 20s and 30s then you're all about your art. And of course, I'm still all about my art, but I'm also about my wife and my cat and the mortgage and the bills and wanting to have nicer things to a degree as well. I've come to terms with that and voice-over does facilitate that as well as it opens you up to different roles and working with different people. So, I can't complain.
F: It's quite similar with making a living as a writer, because with a steady income you get used to a certain standard of living and once you have obligations and bills to pay, I think the stress on your mental health being creative and having all the stresses of regular life thrust upon you brings with it a challenge.
CT: It's a cliche we can very easily fall into: if I'm suffering, then it means I'm an artist. And that's not necessarily very true. It very often means that the art that we create only reflects one aspect of our lives, and it's usually a very tortured one. I am also about having wider experiences and broadening myself out. Whereas I think when I was in my twenties, I was thinking a bit more like: Oh, I'll experience the world and life through my art and just purely through my art. Whereas now necessarily I need to have a life outside of it as well, and then I can justify like I have the life so that I can feed my art or not, whatever. You know, I'll be a better artist by having a bit of a life outside of it. Maybe.
F: But that's what your twenties are for.
CT: Yeah, indeed.
F: Doing the crazy stuff, doing the band stuff 
CT: Yeah, yeah, exactly. So, there was certainly an aspect of that in my twenties.
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F: So, what brought you to voice acting or voice-over work initially?
CT: Money. Video game stuff is kind of sexy and cool, and I'm a gamer, so that's important. Before I was a video gamer, I was a board gamer and off the back of that, I was a voracious video gamer, partly because I wasn't very good at team sports at school. I was always the person who was picked last in the football team. So that becomes part of your identity for better or worse. But video games, I was pretty good at, not amazing, but I was pretty good at, and I enjoyed it. And it gave me a different form of escapism as well, and off the back of that I always had an interest in them. 
So, the very first voiceover job was a video game: Dark Souls, which is quite a big franchise. At that time, I was your very typically jobbing actor. My acting agent came in and said: I got something for you. And so, I went in with that. But it was only in 2016, 2017 that I realised it was something that you could actually do yourself. People had recording studios at home and they were contacting people directly, not just going through agents. Because I'd basically written to the same 20 voice agents in the UK, mainly in London for like eight years in a row and not received anything. So, you keep knocking on those doors hoping. 
Before I'd even graduated from drama school, I'd burnt a CD and made these cases with my headshot on it and sent them all off at what at the time felt like great personal expense and didn't get anything for eight years in a row.  So, I was a bit like, I'm obviously doing something wrong, but I don't really know what, because I'm doing these workshops and getting good feedback. Then I found out through a couple of online courses, that there were ways and means of doing it myself, and that was a bit of a game changer for me, and within six months of having started, I was earning more through voice work than the bar job and the box office job that I was doing combined. Within six months, I was kind of like: “I gotta quit because I'm actually holding myself back from things.” So that was quite a big shift.
F: Somewhere you said, you started out under a duvet and with an oar.
CT: Yeah. On my website, I do have an image of it. [Dear reader, I could not locate this elusive photo] I literally had to take the duvet off my bed and put it into the living room, which was the quietest space in my then shared flat. I also had to wait until after one flat mate had watched TV and another one had used the table that had their washing on it. One of my flat mates had stolen an oar from some night out and that was perfect in order to be able to erect it over my head and the duvet as a frame. 
I did probably the first four or five months of voice recording like that. Probably about 10, 15 voiceover jobs that I actually got paid for, I was using that because it worked well enough. Since then, I've gone through various different iterations of a setup in the bedroom, to a setup in the hallway, to my current setup. In 2020 we moved to our first house, and this is the spare bedroom which I've had converted into a studio, which means my cat can be here asleep on me or near me getting fur everywhere, but it's fine. I can thrash around and I've got natural light to work in at the same time, which I find quite important. [Pictured below Chris' current setup.]
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F: Very pretty. That's good. Guide us through a typical day of yours, if you like.
CT: Oh, sure. I mean, there is no typical day. And yet, and yet, and yet. A typical day for me is, because I am spending the vast majority of the day sitting in this room or somewhere close to this room, because I may need to record at short notice, because the vast majority of jobs are quite short notice. My priority is exercise for mental health more than anything. I've got some weights at the bottom of the garden, and I will get up first thing, and I will go there and I will do that after breakfast. And that's my minimal routine of physical activity done. 
And then I'll come back, and this is so rock and roll. Now what I do is, I spend like an hour on LinkedIn. And that's what you dreamed of as a creative person. Isn't it as an actor? I spend time on LinkedIn regularly every day, because it's a really good networking place for a lot of my types of work, and first thing in the morning, I'm a bit mentally sharper. So that's when I come up with a quick post that may be inspired by a bit of content that I've made elsewhere. That probably takes about 20 minutes and then I spend another 45 minutes to an hour engaging with people and saying hi and introducing myself and asking questions, whether that's with video producers or game developers or documentary makers or pretty much anything and everything. There are a lot of people who are active at that time. And so I do it.
And then after that, if I already have some recording lined up, then I'll prioritise mid-morning, because I've warmed up physically a bit more then, and I'm focused. So, you're going through the scripts, annotating the scripts, recording the scripts, editing the scripts. But then there could be live sessions at any time within that as well. I try to keep hours from nine till six. But occasionally, like with Rogue Trader, that was recorded at various different times of the day because we had people in New York, we had people in mainland Europe, and we had people in the UK. So all different time zones, so that can happen at any time. 
And then I try to do other kinds of bits and pieces of marketing whenever I've got free time to. I do use really exciting productivity hacks, like time blocking. Again, not something that as a creative individual, I was like: Oh God, this gets me so excited, because it doesn't, but it works. It's finding a system that works for you, but still has a certain kind of flexibility and fluidity. I'm trying to make sure that I get outside of the house, and that kind of stuff. 
Recently, over the last year, I’ve started doing audiobooks as well. That long form type of thing is quite nice to be able to dip into because sometimes you don't record for two, three days. You don't get the work. Nothing’s coming in. So, you’re marketing, but it kind of connects you back to the performance side of things to go: I can do a few chapters and you know, that kind of thing. So that's probably it. I try to formalise it, but you know, every voice actor’s day is radically different. There are people, some of the biggest names, going into different studios every week or every day. I very rarely, despite being based in London, I very rarely go into external studios. Like I would say 99 percent of the work I just do from home.
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F: So how do you find the right voice for the specific type of voiceover work you do, maybe start with how did you find Heinrix's voice?
CT: Thankfully, Owlcat sent through quite a detailed casting breakdown. So, you get a picture, and that's pretty crucial, as well as a short bio, in terms of the background of the character, but not too much, because you have to sign an NDA, a non-disclosure agreement. But even if you do sign an NDA, I think developers are always slightly hesitant of giving you too much info about the game because things could still be changed. But I think I did get a picture of Heinrix, if not in the first audition, then certainly on the second one. From that you immediately think about the physicality and what might affect the voice, and there was also some direction in terms of what they were looking for. Anybody who has heard the character and me, they do not sound radically dissimilar. There's not a transformative process that I needed to go through, other than his sense of authority and the space that he takes up and the sureness that he has in that he has a kind of divine right from the emperor, so that level of confidence being brought through.
The other part of the audition was about the void ship [the Black Ship] that he'd been raised in and the horrors that he'd seen. And you as the actor have to do the detective work to go like this is showing another side, the more vulnerable side, the side that underpins all of his life choices up to this point. It's essentially playing the opposite to a degree. So it was kind of knowing when to let those elements bleed through a little bit. I think I had probably about a page worth of scripts, quite a lot of script actually to audition with. 
But I don't like to listen back to it a lot, because I think you get into your head. My biggest thing is stage work where it's ephemeral. You say it once and it could be different the next night. The whole point is that there's no one definitive way of doing things. Not quite the same with voice acting, where it's being recorded and you've got to get used to hearing it back. But I try not to overthink it. Just like record it two or three times with different impulses and then review and go like, those two seem pretty contrasting. I'll send those along and hope and then never hear anything back unless I do.
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campbenji · 2 days
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*JWCT SPOILERS* very messy first thoughts
OH BOY here we go
-ben and darius's dynamic was epic. the hug. the roadtrip scenes. "is your friend okay?" "no 😊". ben getting darius out of his isolation cabin and darius grounding him in ep2. the parallels with s3ep7. "you kiss your mother with that mouth?" i'm gonna be thinking about that scene for days. their ship is still a swim to me but please they better keep whatever the fuck they have going on in s2 because it's fucking wonderful
-i love that they took the chance to give more light to duos we didn't see much in jwcc. teamups we didn't often see like ben and sammy, THE B-DUO, and darius and sammy got very special moments here
-the amount of pictures/videos from the six years in between??? the brooklynn flashbacks??? we were so well fed
-BRAND!!!!!! i got so happy when i heard him the first episode, he's clearly been checking on his brother and i'm glad he's ok
-bowman family FEAST. brand and darius talking over the phone. the pictures on the cabin. kenji saying he calls mrs. bowman once a week and all the nice things he said about her. the whole mess between kenji and darius. "we're brothers, right?" i died dead. i love this family your honor
-sammy. she's got so much going on and we desperately need to talk about it. i'm so worried about her, she's desperately trying to avoid confronting what happened with brooklynn, with yaz and her own trauma, and then they casually dropped on us that her family isn't speaking to her and never elaborated on that?? sammy, who's love and care for her family was her biggest motivation in jwcc?? i need to know what happened because it must've been big
-mateo!! i liked him a lot, he definitely doesn't want to get into any of this mess but still dabbles around a bit to help the kids, which i respect. also i hope we get to meet his daughter hiraya, she sounds really cool
-MS MICROBANGS (or the handler, or whatever name we're calling her). what is her deal. who is she working for. she's so uncanny, literally almost robotic i need to know more about her
-brookenji over i cheered. don't take this personally i've never been a fan of this ship and a part of me knew they weren't going to last long
-the animation increased in quality so much. the scene after ben, yaz and sammy get out of the sinking van is so well done it's so pretty to look at. and the t-rex with the explosion behind her? it reminds me so much of toro in the tunnels in s1ep8, and i haven't tested this out but i feel like if you put them one next to the other the improvement would be so noticeable.
-also related to the point above: that thing when a character's eyes start filling up with tears but they don't cry just yet? 10/10. chef's fucking kiss
-sure jwct has the same tv-y7 rating as jwcc, but from minute 1 it's obvious it's not the same audience they're talking to. it's not a big change in tone, like for example adventure time/distant lands/fionna and cake, but it's there, you can tell they know it's not little kids watching anymore
-BUMPY IS HAVING A BABY BUMPY IS A MOM NOW they had me shit scared for her and then they pulled a freaking egg my heart was literally pounding. anyways i hope they get both bumpy and the egg somewhere safe and that they name the new anky "speckles" (i've gotten so attached to that name in the last 24 hours it's insane)
-YASAMMY THE QUEENS THAT YOU ARE. their relationship was stellar this season, i was scared when i saw that they were apart but their issues felt organic to their relationship and i just love how they were written in the show, they are still so in love with each other and i can't wait to see where they go next season. they're everything to me
-yeah they were apart for half the season but. benji crumbs. the egg cradle scene. kenji helping ben after he got hit with the stun gun. basically all they did was act like they knew each other but idc. we are so back.
-the brooklynn reveal was... meh?? it could've been more rewarding if they waited until s2 to reveal she's still alive, but at least i hope they take their time before reuniting her with the rest of the camp fam. also i can't believe ppl even guessed what arm she was going to lose y'all have prophetic powers or smth
-bringing daniel back to kill him the same episode was an insane move btw. i would've normally complained but it's all worth it for causing the panic attack scene in ep7. kenji's reaction felt so genuine, i'm forever in awe at how well this show writes grief and trauma
-i'm so conflicted about darius's confession. i like dinostar, but i feel like it wasn't needed for darius to be in love with brooklynn to explain the voicemails and the way he was dealing with her death. she was one of his closest friends, his grief made sense even with them being platonic. on the other hand, i love how he admitted it to kenji and the fact they didn't turn it into a huge fight between them; also, "i didn't know i could even feel that way" aroace/acespec darius truthers never lose
-maybe it's just that i need to rewatch, but i'm lost as to where they're going next season?? i know they're getting on a boat but where does that go?? what are they trying to do?? there's so much happening my head is spinning
-ben... he kind of felt like the comic relief for most of the show, the first episodes showed him as being really paranoid again and struggling with being alone, but halfway through the season they just sort of forgot about it?? idk something was off
-bring back kenji's old latin spanish va idk who this guy is but that is not kenji i can't do this. i'll survive the loss of ryan potter but i won't survive this
anyways yeah i think those are most of my uncooked thoughts, overall i really liked the season, i can't believe we got to see the kids again this is still so unreal to me
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