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bigs-bigshot · 1 year

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Refs pics of my spamtum. His full story under the cut

After a mysterious phonecall, he becomes a tv star in 1997; he's a host for various shows with relatively high success rates in audience interest. So much so that Queen herself invites him to her palace for him to live in. However the luxurious lifestyle made him gain weight progressively, and audiences became less and less interested in him as his waistline grew. To the point where even his phone call person abandons him, ending his 'big shot' era and got evicted out of Queen's palace. Not being able to go back on tv, he chooses to go back to his roots and create a car company, that isn't very successful but he doesn't mind anymore.

However, one day, he hires you/Reader, and his life starts changing. At first, the relationship is a relatively normal boss/employee one, but Reader notices their boss' tendency to eat donuts at all hours of the day, and decides to make some for him to enjoy. After several tries, they get it right and greets their boss with their gift... However he gets the wrong idea (them trying to get favors/different treatment) and angrily refuses, then leaves. He seems to hold a grudge and the relationship is soured for a few weeks. But he doesn't fire them, nor does he even look in their direction. One late night, he finds Reader still working extra hours, and puts aside his feelings to gently tell them to go home. They accept his request, but tells him that they meant well with their donut gifts, and just saw that he enjoyed these treats and that, maybe, it could be less expensive for him to accept free donuts from now on. Realixing they meant well, spam offers to take a drink together, out of professional context and get to know each other. While he doesn't reveal his past, spam and reader have a good time.

Since, their relationship progressively improved and spam even accepted the donuts Reader made. So they keep making some for him to munch on, since he often is too busy at work to settle down and eat lunch. One day, one of reader's addison friends, Dewey, wants to meet spam and have him pose for one of his ads. spam is very nervous about it, fearing people might recognize him from his tv era- however Dewey sees his stressed features and tells him he doesn't have to show his face, that they can take a picture of just his body. Spam thinks he won't get recognized that way and accepts, albeit it still a bit nervous. The ad goes well and spam doesn't think about it again, until Dewey asks for him to pose again, but this time, naked. Reader is unaware of that request and Spam freaks out, suspecting the request is not as innocent as Dewey makes it seem. At this point, Reader is more like a friend to spam- his only friend (but they're not aware of that), and tells them about Dewey's request. Reader tries to reassure spam, and tells him it's maybe because Dewey finds spam to be handsome- the latter, still freaking out, accidentally reveals that he doesn't like his body, much to reader's surprise. He immediately regrets spilling this information on them, but knowing he can't go back, he explains to them his past, and how people reacted to his weight gain. Reader listens, now understanding more about their boss and why he is the way he is- why he assumes the worst out of people. Reader tells him honestly that his weight isn't a bad thing, that now body positivity is a real phenomenon and that someday, spam will find someone who will love him, curves included. This is a new concept to spam, who says he won't yet refuse Dewey's request, but that he needs time to think about it.

Spam chooses to accept Dewey's nude ad request despite his feelings, and wants Reader to be there, but he doesn't explain why at first. Reader still goes with anyway, thinking he just needs company in case something goes wrong. It takes time for him to get fully comfortable enough to undress, but eventually he does, and reveals his top surgery scars to both Dewey and Reader. 'Now you know the WHOLE story', he says to Reader. The latter is surprised by this but figures they can talk about it later. And after the ad and spam putting his clothes back on, the two share a drink to decompress and talk about both of their transgender experiences. Once again, they both have a good time, and Reader feels like they truly know spam now. Since he revealed to them his deepest secrets, Reader feels like telling him about their feelings for him. Spam is surprised at first but quickly affirms that he loves them too.

While their relationship at work is the same (with a couple extra donuts added), Spam and Reader date each other and enjoy a non-sexual romantic relationship. Spam is somewhat in disbelief that someone truly loves him the way he is now, but as time passes and acts of love pile up, he gets more and more confident. Eventually the two have a sensual relationship, and spam gets to experience the 'perks' of his new weight, and he's VERY into it to say the least, and falls more and more in love with Reader. As they grow closer, Reader makes sure he eats well at every meal, and spam sees it as a normal part of being cared for, and doesn't mind it at all. However all these meals eventually take a toll on him, and spam goes back to being freaked out about his weight and starts stressing about it, but Reader quickly tells him that extra weight doesn't change who he is... And that if anything, they like it. Spam is once again in disbelief, but reader explains that the perks they made him experience will only get better as he grows bigger, and explains feederism to him. At first, he doesn't get it and starts asking questions, but reader brings up the pleasure he gets from his fat being fondly cuddled, and that he might like getting bigger- and that at least he lets them try it out and see how he feels. After a bit of thinking, spam accepts to try it out.

Reader makes every meal a feast and gives spam treats for him to munch on at every hour of the day- they don't let him being hungry, and makes sure he's full of his favorite things at all times. Needless to say, this makes him grow wider and wider, and the bigger he is, the more happy he feels, with himself and his relationship. After years of being hated for his weight, being worshipped for it and cuddled makes him feel better and better. He wants to grow old with reader and live with them. However, his mysterious phone call person contacts him again after years of silence, and wants to make a deal- spam gets to be a tv star again, but he'll have to lose all of his weight and stop his relationship, or 'something bad' will happen to him. He refuses the deal and bad things starts happening- he loses his company, his house, progressively gets unexplained eye damage and his skin changes from flesh to soft plastic- like a very soft, plushy puppet. Thankfully he has Reader to support him through this, and they accept him in their apartment, where he gets even bigger. He now wears shirts that don't fully cover his girth, to be even more attractive to reader. Despite having lost his job and home, spam is happy with his new puppet life and seemed to have reached his goal weight. He's now thinking of marrying reader, and thinking about a huge wedding cake just for him to eat...

#spamtum #bîg's art #bîg's regular au #bîg's mer au #bîg's vâmp au #notes: 1) he has a donut in each of his bigger selves because that's his favorite food #and 2) the fact that the donuts change sizes as he grows is intentional. The bigger he is the more he craves #still thinking of making him a shapeshifter oc but not now. I still have ideas that can only apply to spamtum specifically.#I added the aus because I wanted to draw them with his new weight. their story is still the same though.#you'll have to go deep through my blog to find them...#wg

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my-hot-asian-wife · 3 months

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How it all started: Her first experiences with someone else.

My wife and I have always been sexually adventurous, even when we had first started dating in my Senior year of college. She was just a Sophmore at the time but I was instantly attracted the moment I saw her. Although she surprisingly sexually inexperienced when we first met, that quickly changed. Even with her minimal sexual history, she was extremely forward and kinky when it came to our relationship. We were finding every opportunity we could do have sex, even in-between classes we where would find a secluded parking lot for a quickie in the backseat.

Over time our sexual dynamic became increasingly more wild. She really had a thing for wanting others watch us have sex while I had fantasies of wanting to watch her have sex. Although we never acted upon any of this, we would talk dirty about it when we fucked. Even through the natural ups and downs in our relationship, our sex-life with was almost always nothing short of amazing. If it wasn’t for her reserving her hyper-sexual nature for when she was with me, I’d believe she was a nymphomaniac. Every guys dream, right?

A few years out of college we were engaged. We had a long engagement, now living together, sex was obviously extremely frequent. I kid you not, when she first moved in with me we had sex for 15 days straight. On at least two of those days, twice a day. As you can imagine, being kinky and adventurous in different ways was the key to keeping things fun and erotic. Dirty talk about threesomes, watching each other fuck other people, the use of different sex toys, filming ourselves together, watching porn together, and even having sex in risky places was common. Although it was just fun and strictly fantasy, I had the burning desire to really watch her be physical with another guy. To be more precise, I had this biggest fantasy of watching her give another guy head. Why? Not only was she amazing at blowjobs, I wanted to see the other guy’s reaction and how long he’s last.

I was open about this fantasy during sex and although she would play along during getting freaky, she would always confess later she didn’t want to be intimate with anyone other than me. About a year into our engagement I had gotten her to push the envelope slightly, getting her to dress up in revealing clothes when we were both out together(see the top pic 🔥) This seemed to get us both pretty horny and we would go out of our way to show more kiss, fondle, or grope each other in the view of orhers. I think we loved it so much because it catered to both of our kinks in the best way; 1. we were both getting watched and 2. I watching other guys check out.

We would continue our little exhibitionist game about once or twice a month for about the whole latter half our engagement. Once we were married and purchased a home, the sex barely slowed down if at all. Although I was trying to get her to push the envelope further with what we did or showed in public, I found her trying to pull away from the kinky exhibitionist stuff because we were married. We both kept things spicy in the bedroom but work and life always finds a way of getting in the way.

It was shortly after she had her boobjob, much to my approval, I started purchasing her sexy lingerie, outfits, and accessories to sport in the bedroom. This was not only a necessity for her new big tits, it was selfishly for me. Some of these items I pushed for her to wear during another exhibitionist outings, excited to put her new silicone assets on full display. Naturally she was feeling great about her body and all the new tops she could wear, so convincing her to dress a little slutty when we were out was pretty easy. I tried to capitalize on this further to push my Hotwife agenda. I was buying the most realistic dildos I could find and started to introduce them during sex. I would tease the idea of watching her pleasure another man and reiterated over and over how turned on the idea made me. She played along, but continued to say she had no desire to try actually do it real. This continued for several years.

One day, a day that I’ll never forget, she suggested we watch a little porn to spice up foreplay. It had been a while since we had done this so I happily agreed. After telling me to choose the video, I scrambled to find a Hotwife themed production and streamed it to the television. The video was a professional production depicting a guy voluntarily watching his wife with another man. As we fondled and teased each other I could tell she was really into it, “you really, really, like this idea, huh?” she said as she slowly stroked my cock. I slowly introduced one of the vibrating dildos I bought, and rubbed it over her clit as we both watched. She teased more, “you want to watch me do that baby? You want to watch me suck his cock just like that?” I was completely turned on and lapping it up. The video went from the oral sex to penetration. As the guy fucked the Hotwife, I was now pushing the dildo into my wife at the same rate as the video. The dirty talk continued as my wife moaned and squirmed. The sex continued to be naughty as we entertained the idea of the fantasy. The video concluded with a sex scene of both the husband and other guy fucking the wife at the same time. Both men ended up finishing on her chest and face. We both had powerful orgasms shortly after the short video was finished.

Sex in the following weeks was pretty similar. It was our new favorite kink to act out with the dildos, in some cases I was penetrating her multiple ways. My favorite is when she would focus on using a toy on herself while I thrusted my cock into her mouth. Things were getting spicy out of the bedroom too as we would tease and role play throughout the day. For example, if she was home before I was she would text me as if there was another guy there with her. Sometimes she would even take a picture using a dildo in an explicit way and send it to me as if she was with someone else. We toyed with the fantasy for months before we had a serious talk about experimenting with other people. Although my wife was not completely sold on hotwifing, she admitted to really loving the idea of either me watching her with another guy, or attending a venue where multiple were having sex with one another. We started researching and found that there was a swingers/alternative sexual couples network not too far from where we lived. When we found out there was a gathering scheduled as a meet and greet for “new couples to the lifestyle” we agreed we would at least go to see what it was all about.

The club was advertised as a members only “lounge” but from the pictures available online it was evident it was designed specifically for people to mingle, drink, dance, and have sex parties. I’ll never forget the excitement anticipation, and nervousness we both had about had about attending the event.. We went in, my wife dressed in one of her sexier bra and panty combos under a short and low cut, black costume dress. I was dressed in nice pair of slacks and a shirt. I’ll save the details for a separate post but we got a full presentation on the club, the rules, and information on the swinging lifestyle in general. After the presentation we were treated to cocktails and food where we mingled with other couples. Long story short we locked in on another attractive couple who was in a very similar situation to ours. After much talking and some booze, we agreed to meet up again.

The next encounter was my wife’s first experience with someone else. It was pretty tame but in hindsight but was completely erotic and wild in the moment. After some petting and touching a soft swap ensued. I watched my wife get fingered and give a handjob. As I was fingering the other guys wife while getting my cock stroked. We left with such a positive experience we agreed to meet up with them again just a few days later. The next session would be even hotter, this time diving into oral sex. Both wives took their turn blowing both husbands and even women were eating each other out. (More on all of that during a separate post) Apparently there ended up being some friction between the other couple so we were unable to meet with them again. It was only two weeks later and we had arranged a date between a willing bull and my wife. That is when she would officially cross the threshold and be fucked by someone else. (More on that at another time too)

Fast forward to today and she’s slept with 7 other guys and counting, 6 of them I was directly present for. I too have fucked other women in her presence and we’ve even experimented with threesomes and foursomes but I truly get my enjoyment for from watching her with another guy.

Today she is a willing Hotwife. Our relationship is even stronger as a result as trust and communication have to naturally be the top priority if it’s going to work. Although we still enjoy exclusive lovemaking as our main squeeze, arranging a playdate with someone else every so often has kept things super interesting. 10 years into marriage and I couldn’t ask for anything better!

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 3 years

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Midsummer Misadventures: Chapter 5

(Henry pic credit. The rest are Google.)

[CH 1] [CH 2] [CH 3] [CH 4] [CH 5] [CH 6] [CH 7]

Pairing: Henry x Female!Reader (you)

Word count: 5740

Warnings: RPF; Abduction (sort of? not really but tagging to be safe); Enemies to Lovers. Slow Burn Smut (not yet). Snark. So much snark. Adult language and themes, etc. Somewhat arrogant Alpha-male Henry because I have questionable taste in men. Plot holes and predictability abound

Disclaimer: Henry is probably nothing like this IRL. Don’t take it seriously and don’t come at me with hate.

Summary: Henry hires you as his property solicitor and you go on a misadventure in Scotland.

A/N:

*yeets chapter into the hellscape and runs*

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on other sites or platforms is prohibited. Reblogs, likes, and comments are, as always, greatly appreciated.

“Looks like the dinner rush is in full swing.”

Henry stopped short and stared grimly toward the terrace, focused on the crowd spilling from the lounge doors. Coming to a stop at his side, you both let out twin sighs and exchanged glances that plainly said: well, fuck.

There was no way of knowing if the crush of people—and now you definitely considered it a crush—was normal Friday evening business for the pub, or if the word had gotten out about The Sheep’s Tail’s special guest.

Your guess was the latter, and sadly, there was only one way to find out.

“You just had to let it out that I was an actor,” muttered Henry, sounding more exhausted than upset.

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me.” Sure, you’d mentioned it to Caroline when exacting revenge for Henry’s constant provocations, but there was no way that he was blaming this entire mess on you. “Didn’t you say that you were recognised this morning?”

Henry merely grunted in response. Your gaze shifted between him and the inn, and you quickly hooked your arm around his elbow and pulled him behind a sprawling oak on the edge of the path. Refuge from prying eyes—human eyes, at least. The sheep meandering on the other side of the fence stopped to watch with interest.

“Should we sneak around front?” you asked.

Henry rested his back against the trunk, humming uncertainly as he chanced another glance at the crowd. “You go around front and I will fight my way through the back. If anyone is lingering elsewhere, the commotion will likely draw them away and you can sneak upstairs.”

There was a natural inclination to take him down a peg for assuming his mere presence would cause a commotion, but you’d experienced firsthand the sort of chaos he could attract. Just the thought had your nerves on edge.

You leaned to the side and followed his line of sight, frowning and squinting toward the indistinct figures milling about the terrace. It was hard to tell from this distance, but you didn’t see anyone who stood out as paparazzi, though just because you didn’t see them didn’t mean that they weren’t there. The best ones were quite adept at remaining well-hidden, skulking in shadows until the prime opportunity arose to strike.

Given his behaviour, you were well within your rights to leave him to the wolves, but you still felt you didn’t have the karmic allowance to gamble on it.

You sighed. Damn it all.

“No,” you shook your head after a moment of contemplation, “it’s better if you go around front.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the line of Henry’s body go rigid, a sign of impending protest, but you insisted, “It’s our best option to avoid us both getting caught up.”

He tugged you back behind the protective shield of the tree. “If this is a result of a well-oiled rumour mill, we ought to assume they think you’re my wife.” With a particular air of hesitancy, he added, “A wife I’m not supposed to have.”

Henry had the grace to look apologetic about it now, but certainly, it was more for having to deal with the fallout than for having done it in the first place. You didn’t hesitate to cut him a look that read I told you so.

He promptly rolled his eyes. “If that’s the case, you won’t slip through unnoticed or unhindered.”

“I’m aware,” you said irritably. It was true, and despite your nerves, you were going to use it to your advantage. Besides, there wasn’t much in the way of alternatives unless you both felt like camping in the fields. “I’m betting on Mrs Cavill being enough to draw their attention but not interesting enough to keep it, which will hopefully mean a quicker escape for me and a clear path for you.”

With any luck, they won’t care about you at all.

He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest, likely in an attempt to look domineering. “I don’t like it.”

“You’ve never liked when you don’t get your way, but now’s not the time to be a child about it.”

He gave you a flinty look. “You’re not used to dealing with this like I am.”

“And who’s the one who dragged me into it?” The arch in your brow mirrored Henry’s, and you weren’t disappointed when, in his silence, his jaw twitched with annoyance. “I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much.”

Henry’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he scratched at the fresh stubble darkening his jaw; he looked thoroughly unconvinced and more than ready to continue arguing, but as if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly.

“The sooner we get through, the sooner we can eat,” you added coaxingly. There were few things more motivating to Henry than the promise of a good meal; this much you knew of him. “I’ll stop by the bar on the way and see if I can have dinner sent to our room.”

Henry dropped his head back against the tree and angled you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher, but that made the skin on the back of your neck tingle. “Sacrificing yourself for me?” he chuckled, and a small, amused smile twitched at his lips. “Noble.”

“Don’t read into it. I just prefer to avoid a scene.”

“I fear we may be trying to avoid the inevitable,” he murmured bitterly.

It physically pained you to agree. “I’d like at least a bath and a bite to eat before I truly run the gauntlet.”

If this was what you were facing after only a day, then it was just the tip of the iceberg and that blasted play was only going to make it worse. How much worse was anyone’s guess.

Henry was nothing if not persistent in his attempt to dissuade you. “There might just as much a crowd at the front.”

Your patience was visibly wearing thin. “True, but based on the information we have, it seems the best plan to avoid the worst of it.”

“Just come around front with me and hope for the best.”

“I’m the diversion, remember? If I go with you, then we have no recourse.”

“I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

Henry held your gaze and your shoulders squared reflexively. “There’s a reason I’m the lawyer and you’re the actor.”

After a moment of thought, his expression turned with displeasure and he grumbled, “Fine, we’ll do it your way.”

Your face lit with satisfaction. Not wanting to give Henry time to change his mind, you gestured for him to get moving. He hitched his bag on his shoulder, gave a mocking salute, and quietly ducked around the other side of the tree. Crouching low on the gently inclining lawn running up against the border wall, he hastily followed it around the far side of the inn.

Once he was out of sight, you sighed bracingly and glanced back at the sheep who stopped grazing just long enough to bleat gently in your direction.

You accepted its commiserating look because you needed all the support you could get, even from the livestock.

“Onward to glory.”

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You made your way across the terrace as quietly and unassumingly as the crunching gravel allowed, but you already felt them.

Eyes. On you.

You hadn’t outright lied when you said you were capable of handling this, but your severe dislike of being anyone’s focal point meant that it was going to be neither easy nor enjoyable. Your throat constricted and flop-sweat dampened your skin as anxiety steadily tick upward.

Regardless, it was your idea and you were committed, like it or not.

Weaving through the tables, you forced your attention away from increasing noise levels and the curious stares and whispers of the dining patrons and instead focused on the delicious aromas wafting from their plates. Perhaps, if the food tasted as good as it smelled, then maybe the majority of the crowd was here for food instead of gossip. You rode that wave of unexpected positivity right into a small break in the crowd around the doors into the lounge.

A voice rose over the barely-contained revelry beyond the threshold. “Guid evenin’, Mrs Cavill.”

Damn.

You stopped and turned with a wince—despite having expected it, you still hate that you involuntarily answered to the title now.

A middle-aged man with shaggy salt and pepper hair, friendly eyes, and an expectant smile raised his pint in greeting. He turned to his ruddy-faced companion, who after a murmur in his ear from the man who’d caught your attention also spared a moment to give you an enthusiastic hello.

You glanced around warily to find complete strangers, who must have overheard, watching you with uncomfortable familiarity.

Unless...had someone managed to get a picture of you and Henry together? There had been opportunities, now that you thought about it. If photos and the inevitable speculation that goes along with them were already circulating the internet…with the added “Mrs Cavill” fiasco…

This was a disaster.

Trying to avoid the inevitable indeed. Failing magnificently more like.

You willed your mind not to spiral as you frantically rolled over how best to proceed. Logic seemed the best course: you didn’t want to make a bad situation worse by inadvertently slighting anyone, but you also didn’t want to stick around and invite conversation from anyone who might be watching and using the interaction to measure their chances.

You acknowledged the pair with a weak wave and awkward smile because you honestly couldn’t think of any better way to handle it.

With a deep, steadying breath, you shoved into the lounge.

Enthusiastic greetings cut through the steady pump of music and chatter. Greetings that were not unkind but held some air of expectation. Unsurprisingly, they were just as suffocating as the crush of bodies and the ambient cacophony beating against your ears.

You hastily jostled your way toward the entrance to the main pub on the other side, implications of your circumstances crashing around you all the while. The voices calling out remained faceless blurs; the further the tide pulled you in, the more panic divested you of polite pretence. You struggled to ignore the mobile phones following your movement and the invitations to drink and chat. With clipped apologies, you shoved past. All you could think through the haze of sensory overload was: nod and smile.

Nod, smile, and fucking move.

There was no correcting anyone about who you were or weren’t; any notion to do so was swallowed by the stifling heat and endless noise. Drowned by the alarming need to get out right now.

Henry might’ve been right.

He can never know about it.

You gracelessly elbowed through another group blocking the doors and stumbled into the main bar, releasing an audible gasp when cool fresh air slapped you in the face.

You didn’t stop to enjoy it.

Urgency hastened you through the main pub. This room was only slightly less crowded than the lounge; more curious glances followed as you bolted around the reception counter toward the stairs. Through the corner of your eye, you spotted Gavin trying to flag you down, but you didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. You gave him a vague wave as you blurred past; whatever it was could be dealt with later.

When you could breathe.

You took the stairs two then three at a time, legs and lungs burning up to the second-floor landing, your heart pumping fast from the exertion and overwhelm. You moved to turn the corner to the corridor that led to your room when you suddenly felt hands on you. Around you. Covering your mouth as you spun into darkness.

Instinct reared; you twisted and flailed, but a vice-like grip pinned your arms to your chest. The large hand clamped over your mouth muffled your screams as you were shoved farther into the dark, cramped space.

A grunt of shock caught in your throat when you were hoisted up and dropped clumsily atop something hard and cold. Your eyes pinched shut as something bit sharply into your spine. You leveraged your body, trying to kick away your attacker, but they pressed so close into you that your legs were folded and jammed up, and you couldn’t do more than feebly knock your knees against their sides.

Too big, too closely wrapped up in you that struggling only made it worse, but you refused to give them even a second of reprieve. You thrashed when they drew closer.

God, your lungs ached.

“Stop,” a deep, familiar voice breathed low in your ear. A hand splayed over your knee to still your movement. “Breathe.”

Your eyes flew open, not that you could see anything, and your heart hammered so hard you worried it might break a rib.

The grip loosened slightly but didn’t move away. “It’s only me,” the voice said again. “Breathe.”

A tall order when there was a hand over your mouth, you thought bitterly. Nevertheless, your pulse ticked down a few notches and the ache in your chest eased slightly as you drew shallow breaths through your nose.

“Hrrmmy?”

“Do not bite me,” Henry said.

You fixed him with a glare—for completely terrorising you, of course, but also for somehow managing to read your mind—but the effect was lost in the pitch blackness of...wherever you were.

“Calm?”

Absolutely not, but you nodded anyway.

“And don’t give me that look.” He slowly removed his hand from your mouth, and air poured into your starved lungs.

You gasped, “How did you know—” Naturally, the first question you would have after being forcibly abducted was how did you know I was glaring at you? It must be the effect of oxygen deprivation.

“I can feel it.”

As terror subsided, your senses sharpened. The hand on your knee slowly slid away, inexplicable tingling left in its wake. Henry’s hands may have moved, but the rest of him remained firmly wedged in your personal space.

Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and though you couldn’t make out many details, Henry’s unmistakable silhouette towered over you. Your body piqued to awareness; inhaling sharply at the shock of it, you felt so flustered that you barely made out the lingering, delicate fragrance of fresh linen.

Your mind immediately snapped back. “Where are we?”

“Some sort of storage cupboard,” whispered Henry.

You let out a colourful curse. This was like a bad novel. “Explain yourself.”

“I told Gavin to stop you at reception if he spotted you,” Henry said defensively.

Double damn.

“I was in the office when he told me you bolted upstairs,” he added. Even in the darkness, you felt the weight of his gaze. “Looking spooked.”

Indignation fought through the ebbing panic lumped in your throat. “I meant,” your voice rising, “why did you abduct me into a cupboard!”

“Keep your voice down,” and he dropped to barely a whisper. “People are lurking on all the floors.”

“You’d think they’d have better things to do with their time than chase after the likes of you.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely zero points for stealth, subtlety, or taste,” Henry said sarcastically.

He paused, grunting as he attempted to shift his weight back and to the side. Something clattered noisily to your left and he swore under his breath as he settled back into the awkward cradle of your body.

Henry reached up and rested his forearms somewhere above you. The solid weight of him pressed in and you struggled to breathe for an entirely different reason. The air hung heavy and humid and his scent permeated everything. Warm, smokey, and undeniably masculine.

“It’s a miracle that I was able to grab you unseen. There’s no way to get to our room without giving away which is ours,” Another low grunt and defeated sigh, “which is something I’d like to avoid that at all costs.”

Brain fog rolled in, and it was all you could do to keep your head as awareness flickered to life. “R-right, but a cupboard?”

“Options were limited,” Henry replied dryly.

You sighed heavily and felt your chest brush against his. Electric sparks jolted straight to your toes, making you desperate for a distraction.

“How bad is it?”

His hesitation was physical. “I’ve already got my team running damage control, but I recommend staying off the internet until it all blows over.”

You half-groaned but Henry’s side muscles suddenly tensed against the inside of your thighs, and you hastily gulped it back.

“When did you manage to call your team?” you asked shakily, trying your best to sound testy rather than completely unnerved. If there was any justice in this world, they’d given him a good verbal thrashing.

“I took advantage of the few minutes I had when I was waiting in the reception office.”

“Hiding,” you chirped. Squeaked? Your voice had taken on a definite mousy quality.

“Excuse me?”

“You were hiding, not waiting.” You cleared your throat but your answer sounded too rushed even to your ears.

Silence stretched a moment, then Henry said, “It takes a staggering amount of arrogance to insult the person who just saved your arse."

“By rugby-tackling me into the tiniest cupboard in Britain!” There, that was better. Rage was far preferable to everything else you were feeling at the moment.

“Quiet or you’ll give us away!” he hissed.

“Who cares if anyone sees? Especially if the damage is already done.”

You shifted ever so slightly side to side in search of any space to negotiate your way around this mess, but you were well and firmly locked in place. Perhaps it was cowardly, and you would agonise about it until the end of time, but you didn’t dare try to wiggle around him.

“If it gets out which room is ours, we’ll never get any peace, and—” He stopped abruptly.

“We’ll never get any peace anyway,” you cut in stubbornly.

“Shh.”

“But—”

“Shh.”

“Honestly, Henry, I don’t care—”

He leaned. No, he loomed. He may have even growled when he came nose to nose with you, but it was difficult to hear around the incessant buzzing in your ears.

Henry’s voice dropped an unnatural number of octaves. “Do you want me to put my hand back over your mouth? Because I will if you won’t be quiet.”

You gasped, not only from his words but what they did to you; awareness did a speedrun into desire. Hurtled straight to your core with a vicious ache. Henry’s breath skated across your lips, and the image of him capturing you in a rough kiss flooded your mind. You narrowly suppressed a shudder.

Nope. Not good. Bad. Very, very bad.

This was Henry. Henry, who in youth made it his puerile mission to vex you into insanity, and when grown—to do the same, but mostly avoid you like the plague. Neither inspired anything other than animus and disinterest.

But now his presence overwhelmed everything. You felt every minuscule movement, every brush of his body against yours, and you were receptive in ways that were wholly inappropriate and completely confusing.

You were not and never had been attracted to Henry. Not even in the most superficial way. Absolutely not.

If your body could get on board with your brain, that would be fantastic.

Your mouth snapped shut. He tipped his ear toward the door; your breathing faltered, eyes squeezing shut as you swallowed back a whimper when his roughly stubbled cheek scraped against yours. You’d never been so thankful for the lack of light; one look at you would undoubtedly give you away.

One look at him and...you didn’t even want to entertain the thought.

Faint footsteps grew louder, pausing outside the door. More footsteps joined, louder and quicker this time. There was some animated chatter, though you couldn’t make out the actual conversation, and more footfall back and forth before it finally faded away.

“For once, can you just trust me?” he whispered once the coast was clear.

In a desperate bid to regain control of yourself, your mind lurched away from base sensations running rampant. You shoved everything you were feeling into a dark, forbidden corner of your mind, never to see the light of day, and willed your voice steady. “Someone from the staff or another guest is bound to let it slip anyway.”

“Even so,” it was obvious the words were forced through clenched teeth, “we can’t risk anyone getting photos of us emerging from a cupboard looking...” He trailed off. “It will be fuel to the fire, and we are under strict instructions not to make it worse.”

“Who’s fault is it we’re in a cupboard?” You felt a pang of sympathy for his management team; the man seemed incapable of anything other than bad decisions.

He didn’t answer, yet you sensed his heat levels rise and patience drop like a stone.

“What do you suggest, then, because we can’t stay in here all night. I’ve already lost feeling in my toes.” Your circulation was the real victim here.

“We wait for the signal.”

“Signal? What, like a Bat Signal?”

“Now you’re just being offensive.”

You smiled despite your inner turmoil.

“Jack,” Henry explained in hushed tones, “is securing the inn and pub and will message me with an update. Glad he showed up. Poor Gavin is scarred for life, I think.”

He’s not the only one.

A charged silence settled in the cupboard and without the distraction of conversation, you became fidgety. Your legs were cramped and twitchy, but no matter how much they ached, you didn’t dare to try to let them dangle.

Your balance was already precarious, held in place by Henry’s inability to move, and whatever you were perched on was too shallow. Moving your legs down would send you straight into Henry’s...lap?

Was it considered a lap if he’s standing?

Not the point.

Your legs weren’t long enough to reach the door or wall, not with—you swallowed—Henry wedged between them. The only alternative was to wrap them around his waist.

The lingering heat coiled in your belly unfurled at the thought and nearly sent you back into a wild panic after only just managing to exact some semblance of control.

No. Not going to dwell on Henry’s hips, lap, or nether regions in general.

Henry broke the silence. “I need to move my arms down.”

“Sorry?” you croaked, prying your thoughts away from dangerous territory.

“Pins and needles in my arms,” he said with a tone that suggested he was repeating himself. “I’m moving them down.”

“Down?”

“Down,” he echoed slowly, sounding distinctly unsure why this was hard to grasp.

“I can rest them on the shelf behind you,” his voice sounded strained, “or around you, but that means invading your personal space.”

“I’m fairly certain that ship has sailed,” you muttered.

“Just giving fair warning this time.”

“Fine, but I need to move my legs before they fall off from lack of blood flow.”

“Wrap them around me.”

He hadn’t even hesitated, but your brain stuttered like a faulty kick start. “P-Pardon?”

“We both know it’s the only option.

“You’ve thought this through?”

“Why is that so surprising?”

The last two days weren’t exactly a masterclass in overcoming impulsivity, but a detailed account of everything leading up to your current circumstances seemed a moot point.

Henry growled again and it helped absolutely nothing. “It is what it is. Just do it.”

“And here I thought things couldn’t get worse...” The attitude was a defensive manoeuvre. Your body and mind were warring again and it was a full-on melee, but you were determined to rein it in. Your emotions may have already frayed many times over today, but you were a mature, capable adult in complete control of at least her hormones.

This would not unravel you.

It all happened in fluid motion: you hooked your ankles around his waist; his arms stole around you, forcing your back to arch. It drew your body flush against his, and Henry’s head to drop into the curve of your neck. There was a collective groan.

Of circulatory relief, surely. Yes, absolutely no other reason anyone would be moaning.

“Steady?” he asked hoarsely.

Not in the fucking slightest.

Time slowed to a crawl; what had to be mere minutes felt like hours filled with nothing but his fingers digging into your sides every time he shifted. His breath hitching, and arms tensing and releasing around you when your legs moved against his sides.

“So...” your breath stuttered when his palm drifted to your lower back and anchored your weight against his thigh.

It was definitely his thigh.

Had to be.

“...how long for that signal?”

“Soon, hopefully. Depends on how long it takes to clear the place out.”

You nodded, trying to ignore Henry’s warm breath on your neck and how it quickened your pulse. Or was that his? You were melded so closely together you couldn’t tell.

You felt the buzzing before you heard it, firm against the back of your leg—dangerously close to the apex of your thighs, and you very nearly leapt from your skin.

“Fuckssake,” Henry cursed at the jarring movement. Your bodies tangled and he lurched back; there was a loud thud when his back hit the door. He clumsily juggled you in his arms, his grip tightening around your back when he pitched once again toward the shelves. Your collective weight shook the entire cupboard. Linens tumbled around your heads.

Your breath escaped with an audible rush. “Sorry!”

“It’s fine—” Henry sounded breathless as well. Clattering and banging, more items tumbled from the shelves as he fumbled to centred your weight again.

Right on top of his buzzing phone.

“Jesus, sorry!” Henry apologised when you jerked and squealed. Everything around you rattled again “I-just, for the love of God will you stop flailing!”

“Just get your bloody phone!” you shrieked.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” barked Henry in return.

With your legs still locked around him, he leaned back against the door. He pressed your shoulders against the shelves and angled you as far as possible in opposite direction, which admittedly, was not far at all. There was a sliver of space between you now, barely enough to fit even a small hand; if he reached down, you were certain he wouldn’t get into his pocket without touching...

You yanked his hand up by the wrist and hissed, “Don’t you dare.”

His gaze flickered down from your face then back again, and you barely made out how his eyes widen. “I’m just getting the phone.”

“I know,” your voice was verging on frantic, “I know, but…”

“I promise I won’t.”

“You will.” Not intentionally, but his hands were too large to not feel everything on the way down. Worse, your joggers were thin and you would feel everything, and you were already strung taut enough to snap. “Can’t you just reach around another way?”

“Do you think I’ve not already tried that?” he bit back impatiently. He paused a beat, a short silence of nothing but rhythmic vibrating. “You do it.”

“What!”

“If I’m not allowed, then you do it.”

You were in disbelief for having to say this for the second time in as many days. “I am not reaching into your pocket!”

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this!” Incredulity laced every word. “Someone’s got to, and there’s only the two of us!”

He hadn’t moved his hand but your grip on his wrist tightened anyway. “But…”

“Make up your mind!”

“Okay, fine! Fine, I’ll do it!”

With a deep breath and a prayer—and not daring to look, you released his wrist and thrust your hand down toward the relentless vibrating.

Just as your fingers brushed against his phone, the world suddenly tilted.

There was no time to react, but you felt Henry tighten his hold on you before landing hard and with an audible groan. The light in the corridor scorched your vision, and when you finally cracked an eyelid, you found Jack smiling down at you.

He wiggled his fingers in greeting. “Well, isna this cosy.”

Jack knelt and looked to Henry, who was heaving beneath you, to the cupboard and then back to you. He angled his head to the side and that knowing little smile, the same one that followed your breakfast comment that morning, twitched at his lips.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; his amused expression said it all.

It was the worst sort of deja vu. “This is not what it looks like,” you muttered weakly.

“Is no?” Jack’s wondered teasingly.

His eyes trailed downwards, and your gaze dutifully followed.

Your hand was still in Henry’s pocket.

Now would be the perfect time for the earth to crack open and swallow you whole. Anything to escape the embarrassment.

You yanked your hand out and scrambled off Henry with no mind to where your knees and elbows landed.

“Glad you found us,” Henry wheezed to Jack. “Had a bit of trouble getting to my phone.”

Your foot may or may not have caught him in the ribs, and you didn’t feel sorry for it.

“Aye, wisna so difficult.” Jack gently caught your elbow to help you stand. “Juist followed the bickerin’.”

Your eyes cut to the side and exchanged a heated look with Henry, who was now upright and leaning heavily against the opposite wall. He looked wild: panting, hair mussed and damp with sweat, and his skin deeply flushed.

Thoroughly dishevelled, and the image of it struck a new, startlingly raw nerve. The existence of which you wished to ignore completely.

The weight of everything dragged you further into exhaustion. The wall was the only thing keeping you upright at this point. You must’ve appeared flustered as you felt because Jack cast you a reassuring smile.

“Dinna wirry. Clear’t the inn except for registered guests. Naebody’s lurkin’ aboot.”

“Thanks, mate,” Henry cut in, leaning forward and extending a hand to Jack. “How’d you manage it?”

“Told ‘em they drank the taps dry.” Jack turned and grasped Henry’s hand in one and clapped him on the shoulder with the other. “Isna far off the truth, and most locals left withoot complainin’. Chase’t off the rest of the stragglers myself.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” you added with a guilty glance at the debris spilling forth from the open cupboard. Towels and linens littered the floor, and a teetering broom finally gave up the fight. You winced when it clattered to the floor.

Jack shrugged easily. “It’s the least I coud’dae efter ye saved me from ma aunty.”

Had that happened today? Lord, you’d nearly forgotten. This was the longest day in the history of ever.

You acknowledged his gratitude with a gracious nod. “I hope no one was too put out.”

“Nae, they coudna be happier. Most excitement they've seen in ages.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. He motioned to follow as he turned in the direction of your room. “Imagine ye need a bit of peace tho, so I’ll send dinner up.”

This man was a saint and no one would ever convince you otherwise.

Jack unlocked the door, and Henry hung back, giving you a wide berth to pass. You slipped into the room without a word to him; you just...couldn’t. Not with lingering thoughts that made you feel foreign in your own mind.

“I need to get our bags from downstairs and make a few phone calls,” Henry said and relief rolled over you like a wave.

You needed space to process everything that had happened, but it would be impossible with him in the room. His presence would only be a persistent physical reminder of everything you felt in that dark, cramped space.

“Feel free tae use the reception office.”

Henry thanked Jack again, and when you turned around, Henry was gone.

With a quick glance toward the stairs, Jack tucked a hand in his back pocket and leaned against the doorjamb with that easy, elegant grace you’d admired that morning. For all the excitement of the evening, he seemed generally unaffected. Relaxed, even. Perhaps slightly rumpled and weary around the eyes, but calm and collected. It was enviable.

Of course, if he’d been stuck in a cupboard with Henry and an overabundance of inappropriate thoughts, he might look a little worse for wear too.

“Quite a nicht.”

You sighed wearily, resting your head on the edge of the door. “One for the books.”

“So…” Jack tousled his hair as he cleared his throat; he watched you warmly, but with concern. “Yer situation isna ma business.”

“Situation?” He was going to have to clarify because you were juggling at least a dozen thanks to Henry.

“Wi’ yer husband.”

Your head snapped up and despite your exhaustion, it took all of your restraint to not grab him by the shirt and shake. “I swear, we are neither married nor in a relationship. He signed that blasted guestbook as a joke, with no regard to his celebrity.” You pressed at the ache forming behind your eyes. “Needless to say, it backfired enormously.”

Jack skimmed the side of his thumb over his lips, seemingly processing that bit of information, then smirked. “The murderous look ye haed this mornin’ is makin’ more sense.”

“Thank you,” you laughed. A tired but genuine laugh that you really needed. It was nice to feel understood.

“I ken I teased a bit, but are ye awright?”

You blinked owlishly and blew out a long breath. Maybe. Probably not, but you would be eventually.

“Nothing a long bath and an early night won’t fix.” That, and lots and lots of professional media spin. Maybe a healthy dose of booze too.

Even though he’d asked, it felt intrusive to burden him with your problems. Dealing with the drama of your presence seemed already too much to ask of him, so you dismissed his worry with a wave of your hand. “Just a long day. I’ll be fine, but thanks for asking.”

Jack accepted your answer with a nod. “I’ll bring dinner in a bit, but...” As he turned to leave, he held up his hand and between two fingers was a slip of paper.

“...if ye need a friend.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fan fic #rpf #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #sweetdreamsofgelato writes #fic: midsummer misadventures

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drukhari · 2 years

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hey so this is sorta random but I feel like I remember you saying you design tattoos and that either you or lily watch she ra, was wondering if you had any ideas for a catra tattoo? trying to come up with a tattoo but there's both so many and my brain also can't seem to pick something

I can't take any credit for this one since it was my fiancée's design idea and the artist we went to was ultimately the one who really brought all the pieces that she had picked out together to make this:

The she-ra font she actually found here, in case that's something you'd want to use in your own, and Lily also had debated heavily between using a pic of formal wear Catra and Catra in her default outfit but obviously the latter won out in the end lol. When Lily was deciding what she wanted to do for the design of her Catra ink, she had to consider things like:

- emotional state/facial expression she wanted Catra to have

- outfit

- pose

- full body vs face/partial (like in the pic above)

- background (if any)

- text (again, if any - also consider font and positioning of the text in relation to the character)

- colors involved (favorite colors that are personal to you, colors from iconic scenes involving the character, colors that compliment the colors used for the character, etc).

- sizing and placement on your body (for reference, the tattoo above took 5 hours and takes up a 6in x 6in piece of real estate)

Ultimately finding some different reference pics for the character in question and then piecing different things together in a mock up through Photoshop or Gimp was the way we tackled it.

Our artist was super awesome too in that he worked with Lily to take the pieces of the mock up and create a version of the final design that she absolutely loved, so finding an artist whose portfolio of work you really like and whose style suits the kind of piece you're going for will be a big piece of the puzzle. Sometimes they've got suggestions for the design that may not even be in your original vision but end up pulling it all together in just the right way (actually the same artist for this piece also did my Bloodborne tat and the design he came up with from my original mock up was SUPER different from what I'd first brought in, but I fell in love with it instantly).

There may be a ton of already done designs out there when it comes to character ink, but considering what it is that you like about the character and in what ways you can really make the design feel personal to you can go a long way in helping to nail down a design that you'll feel confident about and love.

While I can't necessarily suggest an exact design to fit you personally (I just dont have that kind of expertise), I hope some of this info helps out with the overall process!

#I can relate anon - im in the process of drafting a resident evil sleeve for myself and the struggle is REAL lmao #wishing you the best of luck though!#also the pic was shared w/Lily's permission of course

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rrasado · 3 years

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The demon brothers with MC who is very childish like they still watch blues clues wear soft and pastel cloths and play with toys?

Such Childish Antics

And again, I’m soft af- y’all just keep sending fluffy requests and it’s distracting me from my daily dose of angst dkns/j. But on all seriousness I had a lot of fun with this one ^ ^.

Lucifer

At first it was...not exactly what he expected, like far from it actually. Was there something that purposely made you wanna act like this? Who knows.

When he checked your files prior it didn’t mention anything about... needing routine head pats or literal tucking into bed- heck he didn’t expect you to actually go along with Mammon’s equally childish antics.

Which fully circles us back to the subtle fact that he learns to actually find rest in your behavior because let’s face it- your childish and his brothers’ childish are different.

Actually gets worried when you refuse to eat your veggies tho- he didn’t think he’d had to resort to...very underhanded methods i.e. using illusion spells to just feed you proper food despite sweets.

“MC you must finish this if you don’t want to fall ill. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

Very by the book with dealing with you he isn’t exactly the best at kids due to his aura but overall his actions make up for it.

Mammon

The solidarity you two have just spiked up tenfold, don’t worry about being the few people that still use jinx or superstitions like swallowing gum and believing it’ll stay there for the next seven years, because mammon also semi believes them-

But on a more chaotic note, mammon would go from ‘hey I don’t like the human being here why do I have to look after them they’re so childish-‘ to ‘oi f*Ck you my child is fine-‘

Sometimes feels guilty of taking advantage of your childish nature so he makes sure to make it up to you in some way whether a food treat a plushie treat or heck whatever outing you’re up for.

Which equates to the conclusion that if mammon is being nice to you he might’ve pulled a joke or two unbeknownst to you and his mind won’t let him rest the guilt dsdkwksk.

“Yo! I found a new ice cream downtown wanna get some and try? We can bring beel if ya want!”

As proven by season two(?) he’s good with children so I believe he’s the best at dealing with you in general. Besides you distract him from the suffering he gets from his brothers so win win!

Leviathan

This can go either two ways, one a grand friendship via watching anime and reading manga/comics or two unholy screeching cause hey Mc don’t touch those not so family friendly series he has ey-

So starting with the former- wait you said you wanna binge some colorful series instead of doing work? GRAB THE POPCORN LE GO- will literally have stars in his eyes the moment you two click on one series and it’s just a rant (on his end) while you nitpick at your favorite elements of the series.

The latter well, after delving into your more hyper ish series he’ll try to avoid letting you catch glimpses of his other stuff, which we all know is a lot but we don’t need to mention that now do we-.

Will not hesitate to pull out a human tv with a human cable plan just for you to binge watch your own cartoons and series because if that’s what it takes for you to calm down then aIGHT- besides it’s calming you down so win win?

“Hey wanna cosplay that duo together?”

I kid you not it becomes a dream come true when you both get to cosplay duo characters from series and the sheer nya uwu power you two hold is powerful enough to break devilgram records djdjd.

Satan

As uncanny as it sounds, he reads bed time stories for you, to put into context- he teaches you a lot of useful still via bed time stories because he can’t approach you the normal way.

Like- the concept of corruption in the history of the Devildom? Yey let’s turn that into a tyrant king! Need to learn the importance of always having one of the brothers with you? Eyyy this is the tale of the Queen’s child and their knights!

If there are any words you have a hard time getting your head around or just don’t know the meaning like at all, he’s your go to dictionary.

Suffice it to say he’s good at what he tries attempting. Was at first a bit concerned because you complained about his books not having pictures and it takes the fun out.

“Hm? Well we can always search for ones with diagrams in the library if that’s how you learn faster...”

Surprisingly to him those horrific diagrams did help you learn faster in various Devildom subjects, but your suggestion of making them colored ink was just calmly rejected.

Asmo

I pray for the House of Lamentation’s mail box because it’s full of chEQUES AND BILLS- the shoppings sprees you two go on is enough to even have Mammon concerned.

Like- you two just went down town to buy some new matching outfits and really pretty ones at that, and asmo is now dragging you by the arm to head to another newly opened boutique saying it’s from another district and he and has to be the first ones to post some of their pieces? Mhm

Non stop devilgram pictures, you are the epitome of color in the Devildom soley because of this Demon- He actually managed to make pastel a trend in the gloomy circle of hell with the amount of pastel you wore in your pics together.

When he takes care of you or offers you a relax day, mans will grab the most spontaneous bath soaps and body washes and even make you a bubble bath with hella cool shaped bubbles in, ngl I want one now-

“Ahh darling your genuine laughter is just a good break from the others’ bickering it’s actually doing wonders for my skin-“

Asmo is the ultimate wine aunt and he will not hesitate to end anyone’s career the moment they speak of one negative thing about his precious human.

Beel

....we all know it’s gonna be glorious food- ANIMAL CAKES AND CUTE CUPCAKES THINK ABOUT IT GUYS THINK ABOUT IT-

His food diet looks like a Pinterest aesthetic pastry board because of you, the amount of cafes and cute bakeries you go to because you said you liked their vibe and that they look cute has him nomming sweets upon sweets.

Heck- you two Will attempt to make those cute Sanrio bento boxes for lunch, well more like for you cause he doesn’t care what his food looks like but hey! If it makes you happy and if it’s good then he’s hella happy.

Is probably on Lucifer’s side regarding you needing to eat your veggies. He’ll shape them into cute animals and objects if that’s what it takes assuming he can even go without eating them himself-

“Please MC? For me? Finish mr snikerdoodles-“ “you named your chives after what-“ “hush it Belphie”

Will join you and mammon on district runs for food and outings, will also join you and Levi when making cute food from certain series you’ve watched.

Belphie

Depending on how childish you are you’ll either see nap time as a blessing or a punishment, no matter which one you’ll still wind up napping with belphie.

Ya don’t wanna nap? Well too bad cause you’re already trapped with his arms to sleep, he does that with his pillow and since his pillow helps him sleep well Goodluck cause you’re now a plushie.

You wanna nap? Good cause you get to nap with a lot of stuffed toys heckin soft pillows fluffy blankets and a grown man to make sure you actually sleep and not...pretend. (I actually do that a lot believe it or not-)

But here me out, animal onesies, matching animal onesies, matching soft and comfortable animal onesies- ok but really, onesies you two will wear and not care if the others see because you’ll walk a round the house and that at night heading to the twins’ room.

“Want some milk before bed? It’ll probably get us more good dreams..”

Whether he actually believes what he’s saying or not, a good glass of milk before bed is one of the few calming routines you two share and he finds them pleasant.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #rras writes #writings from the eclipse #obey me mc

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wild-aloof-rebel · 2 years

Note

did you have any visual inspiration for what baseballverse patrick looks like i.e. any specific photos, outfits, etc?

a lot of it is really just patrick as he is on the show, but i can def give you some specifics. i'll put them under a cut just in case anyone still hasn't read it and doesn't want to be spoiled (and because i'm including pics so it's gonna get long lol)...

the shirt he's wearing when they first meet (A man in dress slacks, his suit jacket already discarded somewhere, the sleeves of his light-colored shirt rolled up to his elbows...) is the one from the "oh i'm gonna get the money" scene at the end of the affair.

he's also in button-ups—though i didn't really have specific ones in mind—when he takes david out for both the wine and paint night (that tempting vee of skin peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt...) and to the italian restaurant, though he also wears a blazer for the latter (he opens the door to find Patrick there in a midnight blue blazer with tiny raindrops scattered across the shoulders like stars / the stretch of the jacket sleeves around his arms, the small vee between the points of his shirt collar...) so think grad night vibes there.

that kind of look is obviously his go-to for when he wants to dress to impress (it's not specified in the fic, but he'd also prob be wearing a button-up for the dinner after the milb all-star game, with johnny and all the team staff and all.) otherwise though, when things are more casual, it's def a lot more t shirts with either jeans or sweats.

when i originally wrote the patrick day scenes (which was before s6 aired), i was thinking his look was the hike, but without the hoodie and with different shoes. and then dan gave us pretty much exactly that in moira rosé and weirdly also referred to it as it being "patrick's day." just an odd coincidence. but anyway, yeah, basically the moira rosé look (sans hat) for both going on the picnic and watching the game at brebner's park that night.

and the m.v.p. is obviously a source of inspo, too, since it gives us what patrick looks like in baseball pants, lol (though as a catcher, patrick is more likely in full-length pants, not knickers, since that gets to be a lot of stuff happening around your knee/upper calf once you’ve got your pads on. it’s not impossible, but it’s def more common for catchers to wear long pants.)

(thanks to @patrickbluer for having all these reference pics readily available)

outside of what's pulled from the show, in the morning-after scene that starts ch 8, he puts on the worn, old University of Louisville tee and the boxer briefs. that would be the style of shirt below. the boxer briefs would just be black, and then of course it's later specified that he's also wearing mismatched socks, one burgundy and one aqua.

for the post game presser (Patrick is there, freshly showered and cozy in his team hoodie), he's in a standard issue blue jays hoodie with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

as for actually on the baseball field, the bears' team colors are basically the san diego padres' colors, so think that sort of look for the uniforms (though not the current pinstripe-y iteration).

and then the blue jays obviously just look like the blue jays.

and last but not least, my main real-life mlb player inspiration for patrick will always be dodgers catcher will smith, who just fully has Big Patrick Energy, plus a similar body type, so he's the model for any and all things on the field. for example, patrick hitting that home run in the alds and getting a gatorade shower after basically looks like this (though sebastien is not a submarine pitcher like rogers is here)...

#always here for any and all excuses to trot out some gifs of will lol #anyway idk if this is actually helpful or not but here it is #if there's a scene i missed that you want to know about #or something from one of the other parts of the baseballverse since i only focused on the main fic here #just lmk #anon #replies #baseballverse

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virarosea · 3 years

Photo

MILEENA IN SIMS 4

click for full res!

I use a lot of cc and I don’t remember where I got all of it, but if you want the download for something, you’re welcome to ask and I’ll try and find it for you. There are also some clipping issues in some pics because that’s the trade off for modding your game to hell and back.

Some notes on her style that I’ve noticed:

Her style can best be described as chaotic af. She’s got an expensive taste and buys brand-name only. Unlike Kitana, who prefers comfort, Mileena is all about style and will sacrifice comfort for the sake of whatever look she wants to achieve.

Moschino is her absolute favorite brand. It’s got just the right amount of eccentricity for her.

Shades of pink, purple, and black are her go-to palette. She doesn’t shy away from bold color choices. She typically prefers gold jewelry over silver, but she’s not opposed to the latter.

The vast majority of her clothes are intended to be provocative. They typically show a ton of skin and are tailored to accentuate features of her body that she likes. A notable exception is when she is dressing for cold weather. She is unaccustomed to cold weather due to growing up in a warm climate and does not like feeling cold; she will layer thick fabrics for the sake of warmth.

She like patterns, though she is sparing with her usage of them. The quirkier the better.

She loves strap accessories. She’s very fond of any sort of aesthetic / avant garde belting. She favors mesh as well, though like her usage of patterns, she’s very pick-and-choose for how and when she wears it.

She loves to wear dresses but she’s not big on skirts. She prefers shorts or pants.

She wears fancy lingerie to bed because it makes her feel pretty.

Her hair is cut just above her shoulders and she prefers to wear it down. When she has the chance to dress up, she likes to indulge in hair extensions, but she doesn’t have the patience to deal with the maintenance that long hair would require on a daily basis, thus she sticks with her short look most of the time.

Every aspect of how she dresses is meant to distract from her face. More specifically, her mouth. While she doesn’t wear any veils in the pictures as shown, she will always wear one in actuality. The only reason I didn’t include the veils is because there’s a severe lack of veil cc for TS4 ;.;

No lip makeup outside of a matte shade every now and then. No one sees it so she doesn’t really care. For her eyes, she has her favorite look, and she sticks too it. Heavy purple / pink hues with smoky liner. She doesn’t deviate much. Her clothes are where she prefers to experiment.

Her nails are weapons, thanks to her Tarkatan DNA. She paints them shades of metallic purple without further decoration. Kombat ruins them easily, so she sticks to something that still looks fine after ripping someone’s face off.

It takes her 30-45 minutes to get ready in the morning. She’s high maintenance, but she doesn’t have a drawn out routine like Kitana. She showers, puts on her makeup, and then throws on whatever she’s feeling like that day. Her style is less meticulous for this reason and more hit-or-miss in terms of how it turns out, but she loves to try new things.

#teeth tw #body horror tw #[mileena ; visuals]#[mileena ; etc]

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?”

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

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scotianostra · 3 years

Photo

September 14th 1402 saw a Scots army led by 4th Earl of Douglas defeated at the Battle of Homildon Hill by English army led by Percy ‘Hotspur’.

A little known battle, one of many between the Douglas Clan and the English Percy’s. Some sources have this down as a “Skirmish” others, like Wiki have the numbers involved as 10,000 Scots against 15,000-20,000 in the English Army, so a bit more than a skirmish, but I’m inclined to think the numbers have been exaggerated in the latter estimates. This had all the ingredients of a classic Border Reiver clash that the Douglas family were famous for.

In August a Scottish raiding force thousands strong under Archibald, Earl of Douglas, crossed the border, penetrated as far as Newcastle and then turned back to cross the Tweed at Coldstream with its plunder. Hotspur moved to intercept and the Scots, determined not to leave their slow-moving stolen cattle behind and make for Scotland at full pelt, camped in an apparently strong position on Homildon Hill.

The Percy’s had thoughtfully recruited Welsh archers, who from a distance took a heavy toll of the mass of men and horses on the hill. Some of the Scots horsemen charged, saying: “Better to die in the mellay than be shot down like deer”. All perished. It has been suggested that Douglas hesitated to signal the advance of his main force, and when he did, it was too little too late.

Eventually the Scots fled, but many were caught and slaughtered, and few got away. Douglas himself was captured, with five arrow wounds in his body and the loss of an eye.

Fortunately for the Scots, Henry IV had problems of his own with internal problems and a Welsh rebellion so the English failed to press home whatever advantage they had gained, the Percy’s were to release the prisoners, within a year they themselves were in open revolt against Henry and many including Douglas decided to join forces with him. Indeed, Douglas fought, at Hotspur’s final fight at the Battle of Shrewsbury, such were the blurred lines back then.

Hotspur was killed and Douglas was again captured. Hotspur’s body was salted and quartered for display at York and other towns. Perhaps this is how this particular Douglas gained the epithet “Tyneman” meaning loser in Scots, although some historians say the moniker was this may be a reference to his great-uncle Sir Archibald Douglas.

The second pic is the ancient Bendor Stone, around this that many of the Scots were killed, it serves as a monument to those that fell.

You can find a full run-down of the battle here http://www.battlefieldsofbritain.co.uk/battle_homildon_hill_1402.html

#Scotland #scottish #english #england #Border Reivers.#The Douglas's #history

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hungarianbee · 3 years

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Way of the Witcher: bits of lore

Disclaimer: Post contains spoilers to the Witcher games These things may be canon-typical, but the following trigger warnings apply if you want to check out the cards: gore, monster dismemberment, needles, body horror, insects and spiders

“In a world plagued by horrors and monstrosities humanity desperately needed a new type of weapon to turn back the tide. Created by ingenious Alzur, witchers — professional monster slayers of exceptional strength, speed, and agility were tasked to end the threat once and for all. Organized into different schools they honed their craft and passed their knowledge onto novices in training. Some of them were destined to become the legendary heroes and protectors of humanity. Others — the very thing they were supposed to fight…”

Since the gwent expansion was anounced I followed it with rapt attention; every bit of lore is a gem in my eyes. I decided to write down my thoughts of the cards and lore pieces revealed in a post. Share that knowledge around, amirite?

The post references Gwent cards which were leaked (2020 november-december). The theme is mutation and everything that comes with it; namely sweet-sweet lore of the lesser known witcher schools: the Bears, Cats, Vipers and Griffins.

Tucker in, under the cut there is 4.5k analysis of each card that came out.

We’re starting with a theme, then work our way throught the 4 schools (each contain the following: a leader, a mentor, an adept, a general witcher, a specific job, an item, a school relevant monster, 2 known witchers and a location), then go through a Witcher 1 throwback, Salamandra, and round it with a few new monsters and neutral cards.

While I describe most of the cards concisely and all the known witchers and locations are on my blog, you might want to look the cards in their (small) glory: [DO IT HERE]

Sounds good? Here we go!

Edit: [this source is better]

The theme is mutation - be it monsters created by transmutation, witchers or salamadra

If that is true, there are monster cards that seemingly stand out: the Succubus and the Phooca

If we are to believe that they do connect to the mutation theme, then

(1) we can conclude that Phoocas (a rare, and more dangerous form of Nekkers; they can pull your head off by sheer force, watch out) are a natural mutation of the original species,

(2) but we’re still left with the Succubi (an inherently demonic creature). They might have chosen it because of its appearance: succubi have horns and goat-like legs. (Note: in the graphic novel “House of Glass” the succubus character has wings, but lacks hooves. In that sense, she could be mutated.)

Breaking it down into factions/schools (some of the cards can be paired up; these cards are interpreted together):

School of the Viper: starting with the vipers, because they are my favourite

Viper Witcher Mentor & Viper Witcher Adept: the flavour text says that the Viper mentors are exceptionally cold and ruthless, and that’s underlined by the story the art tells: the mentor busies himself with sharpening a blade, and in the background we can see the adept attempting to kill his best friend goat, as was ordered. The mentor watches this from the corner of his eye. Young Vipers are to kill their pets (which they nurtured for years) before becoming a fully-fledged witcher. The latter could mean that the boy depicted on the card hasn’t even gone through the Trial of Grasses.

Viper Witcher: On the card we see an unknown Viper crouching over a royalty he killed. I feel like this type of card is meant to represent what we think a general Witcher of said school would be like. Apparently Vipers just like to slay the nobility *shrug*. The flavour text informs us, that Vipers call their two swords “fangs”, and that their style consists of fast and furious attack aimed to overwhelm the enemy.

Viper Witcher Alchemist: Every school has a specialty; Vipers are proficient in potion or poison making. The right side of the alchemist’s face seems to have healed burn marks; a blown up concoction might have caused it.

Ivar Evil-Eye: So far there’s little to know about Ivar. He was either the Master of the Viper Keep, or the founder himself (gwent suggests the latter). He’s described as heavily scarred (facial scars suggests burns and slash marks too), and each of them has a terrible story to tell.

Warritt the All-Seeing: Warritt is a (newly introduced) Viper with heavy disfiguration to the upper part of his face: his eyes are sealed shut (possibly by burn marks, though his hair remains intact). The art shows Warritt drawing a modified version of the Supirre sign in the air to help with his loss of sight. As the wiki says: “Supirre is a Sign used for eavesdropping. Drawn on a solid surface, it allows the people near this surface to listen nearby conversations which would be normally inaudible due to the distance or background noise.” It was only used in Sapkowsky’s second volume of the Hussite trilogy (not yet translated to English), which is entirely separate from the Witcher novels.

Kolgrim: Fate laughed at this Viper. As a kid he was swapped by a weeper, saved by a witcher, than rejected by his own mother who believed that the fake child was the real one. Later, as a grown witcher Ivar instructed him to find a lost weapon diagram. On his journey he was accused - ironically - in White Orchard of kidnapping a child. Invoking a Temerian law, Kolgrim was told to cleanse their crypt (as seen on the card) then he can go. The truth is revealed in Witcher 3 - Kolgrim was beheaded by the villagers before he could even step into the crypt. To add insult to injury: the child was eaten by a drowner. The gwent card therefore shows the optimistic outcome: that Kolgrim reached the crypt and passed in battle. And what’s up with a crypt full of wraiths anyway? White Orchard is shady, guys. (Lil’ trivia: Kolgrim’s eyes are yellow-green.)

Vypper: Basically an overgrown snake that likes damp marshes (they even fight the local kikimores for territory). They only relate to the mutation theme by their nature - they resemble the “school’s animal”.

Gorthur Gvaed: The Bloodgate Keep is located in the chasms of the Tir Tochair mountains. It’s built so high were you to look down from the bridge leading into the keep, you would only see fog (one could wonder how the vipers trained in these conditions). The bridge is made so that you’d have to cross the lookout tower - it might have served as a check in spot. The post itself is circled by the stone coils of a snake; the top is open and has a huge lit bonfire in the middle for warmth-keeping and possibly signaling. Unluckily, it didn’t stop the Usurper’s army from destroying the keep.

Coated Weapons: They leaned heavily into the alchemy and assassin side of the school. Vipers coat their blades with an acidic liquid, so they can kill a man with a nick of it.

School of the Cat:

Cat Witcher Mentor & Cat Witcher Adept: On the adept card we can see a young Cat walking the tightrope blindfolded (they start with close to the ground and slowly increase the distance with time); the mentor is looking up at him. Like the Vipers, Cat mentors are nonchalant about risking the kids as seen from the flavour text: “If you fall, it’s over. Your nine lives are up, kid.” Furthermore, the background of the Cat Witcher Adept card shows the not yet destroyed Stygga Citadel. The Cat Witcher Mentor is in the same scene and we can see lots of potatoes and cabbages; cats definitely eat their veggies.

Cat Witcher: The card shows a Cat in the heat of battle mid-jump; his hood is up, blood is flying everywhere. The flavour text emphasizes that cats are known for their mad bloodlust, not stopping killing even after the enemy capitulated.

Cat Witcher Saboteur: A Cat perches next to the window, a smoking bomb in hand, eavesdropping on nobles. A rope is hung from somewhere out of the pic, possibly for a quick exit. Vesemir comments that these are many-a deeds the cats did that taint the reputation of witchers.

Gezras of Leyda: Gezras is a not yet known redheaded Cat witcher. Following the pattern he seems to be the founder of the Cat School. His flavour text shows that even back then (when the mutagens made Cats emotionless) they were inclined to dislike humans: “Take a contract from Aen Seidhe over a dh’oine any day, as you’re far less likely to receive a knife between the ribs in place of coin.”

Brehen: Now this cat embodies the Cat madness. He’s known as the Cat of Iello because he massacred everyone there. He was consequently shunned by all the schools, and he was even convinced that Vesemir put a kill order on his head. He met Geralt later in the 1240s on his way to claim the bounty for the princess. Thinking that Geralt was there to rob him of his chance of the bounty, Brehen took a priestess as hostage (this is what we see on the gwent card). Geralt managed to convince him to put away the blade, and they parted without crossing blades. When meeting with the striga he scoffed into her face that “she won’t be his first royal”. But his luck ran out. The Temerians buried him and fabricated the story of a cowardly witcher stealing their coin. I’m halfway convinced we see Brehen in the netflix series.

Gaetan: This boy broke into the fandom like a bulldozer. After the folks in Honorton cheated him of his pay and tried to kill him, Gaetan flew into rage and killed everyone there except Millie, a girl who reminded him of his sister. That’s the scene we see on the card. And then Geralt robs/kills him.

Saber-Tooth Tiger (Stealth): Another huge animal/monster related to the school. It’s story is this: “The prized possession of royal menagerie, until a commando of Scoia’tael assaulted the exhibition, released the beast, and set it upon its cruel masters. Since that day, it has acquired a selective taste for human flesh.” Another cat turning against humans.

Stygga Castle: An outside view of what we already saw on the Cat Witcher Adept card. It’s located on a cliff, and the sun shines into it just right (so that the Cats can bask in the light). The walls form a circle where they shelter the inner grounds, and a bigger tower emerges in the middle. The Castle could be reached by the thin bridge connecting it to the mainland, or by the cliffs (if one is brave enough).

Making a Bomb: Cats seem to have a specialty in bombs. Guess where Lambert got his interest from *winkwink*

School of the Griffin: lots of pairs in this one

Griffin Witcher Mentor & Griffin Witcher Adept: Compared to the other schools, this pairing is tame - the adept is climbing a tree to retrieve a crossbow bolt. We can see the mentor in the background. On the mentor card the adept waves down with the retrieved crossbow bolt in hand. It shows a kind of comradeship that’s not present in the other 3 schools. The flavour text emphasizes the importance of knowledge. Students are afforded to choose their final Trial: recite the entire Liber Tenebrum (Book of Shadows; one of Keldar’s favourite books) or steal a griffin’s egg. Noone’s chosen the former.

Griffin Witcher: The witcher is shown shooting down a griffin. According to the flavour text they prefer hunting with silver-tipped arrowheads instead of swords.

Archgriffin & Griffin Witcher Ranger: On the Griffin Ranger card we see the witcher crouching over track marks. On the archgriffin card he found the albino (or very old) monster, who’s already killed someone (probably a lumberjack, judging by the axe). According to the flavour text, Griffin Witchers are trained to be professional trackers; nothing can stop them to reach their prey. Even though archgriffins are considered the embodiment of courage, loyalty and fighting spirit, the gwent card corrects the notion that the Griffin Witcher were named after the monster. In truth, they got the name in honour of their founder’s mentor, a knight named Gryphon.

Erland of Larvik: Continuing the trend, Erland is the founder of the Griffin School (one of the two that are confirmed 100%). He’s from the first generation of witcher, mutated by Alzur himself. After the Order began fracturing he had a confrontation with Arnaghan (who’ll be the founder of the bear school). Arnaghad almost killed one of his brothers, slashed Erland across the face then parted ways with the Order and left Morgraig Castle with his own group. Seeing that the the remaining witchers couldn’t go on like that, he grabbed his 13 best friend and left to Kaer Seren, where (after purging it from spectres) he founded the Griffin School which focused on magic, preparedness and flexibility. His teaching emphasized knightly values (mimicking his long-dead mentor, a knight named Gryphon) in hopes that it would make future witchers’ life easier. It didn’t.

Coen & Keldar: The cards are mainly connected by background. Coen is finished killing what appears to be an albino arachas (but it’s definitely an insectoid), while Keldar’s taking notes. We can rightly assume that he’s updating their bestiary, since he’s one of the teachers/mentors who focus on gathering and sharing knowledge. Coen’s flexibility shows in the flavour text: “There is no such thing as a fair fight. Every advantage and every opportunity that arises is used in combat.” Not very knightly, is it?

Kaer Seren: The “Star Keep” Erland and his friends fled to. It was used by the Order’s mages to mutate witchers (that’s why it was haunted by spectres). It’s located at the edge of the Dragon mountains by the sea between Poviss and Kovir. It’s said to possess the great library, which later mages tried to get for themselves. They messed up: by bringing down an avalanche on the Keep, that knowledge was destroyed. The keep was badly damaged and many witchers died.

Target Practice: The Griffin School’s specialty is their precise aim - they “can split an apple in two from a hundred paces”.

School of the Bear:

Bear Witcher Mentor & Bear Witcher Adept: The adept card shows that young witcher are taught to catch fish by hand (just like their school relevant animal). On the mentor card the elder witcher leads a group of younglings in the mountains; possibly out to teach tracking. The cards are connected by flavour text. The young Bear witcher-would-be’s need to complete the Trial of the Mountain, which consists of them climbing Mount Gorgon (also known as the Devil Mountain; it is the highest peak of the Amell range) to retrieve a runestone. The Trial often ends with the kids frozen to death. The Bear Mentor card’s flavour confirms it: “If you’re unsure of the way, just keep a lookout for markers - the frozen corpses of would-be witchers.” This sounds ominous - don’t they collect their fallen?

Bear Witcher: Bears are solitary hunters as seen in the flavour text: “life alone can be tough”. The witcher in the pic just dismembered what looks like a ghoul (with a tail?).

Bear Witcher Quartermaster: This one I like. The Quartermaster is an amputee (missing one of his arms, which was taken by a bear; must have won that fight one-handed), yet they still found a job for him where he can be useful. His flavour text suggest he likes Mahakam mead.

Arnaghad: The founder of the Bear School, he never felt kinship with his fellow witchers. After attacking a witcher named Rhys over a contract, wounding him deeply from shoulder to waist, he returned to Morgraig, attacked Erland then left with his possé to found the Bear School - Haern Caduch - in the Amell Mountains. Later he almost died in a betrayal, which resulted in another schism and the foundation of the Viper School.

Gerd: Gerd’s a legendary witcher who fled to Skellige after allying with a Usurper instead of his daughter, who later issued a warrant for his arrest. He has a busy time in Skellige: first slaying a dragon, befriending the Jarl Torgeir, killing a bunch of sirens, losing so many weapon diagrams you wouldn’t believe, losing half his pay and silver sword on gwent, escaping Nilfgaard and managing to slay a striga, killing some of his pursuers, only to be caught up in the siege of Torgeir’s castle, where he died in the ruins. On the card he’s showing Bear-typical strength: he’s tearing apart a siren with his bear hands.

Junod of Belhaven: Junod had a dubious background, but was thought to be the child of a brave dwarf and a giantess. He’s a huge man, with a big bushy beard and bald head. His sobriquet is false; he took it after Ivo, because he liked the ring of it. He was known as a strict haggler and a bit of a gambler. In 1243 he took a contract in hopes of cash (he wanted to forge the Grandmaster Ursine Armour). The subterranean monster was said to live in the caverns. Junod drew bear signs and wrote a warning on the wall (this is the scene we see on the card). He was however ill-prepared; the beast turned out to be a shaelmaar (a type of relic Gaetan slew once) that killed him in that very cavern.

Dire Bear: Once again related to the school in question, the Dire Bear is stuck with so much weaponry that it looks like a walking armory. Lots of witchers must have tried to slay it, yet it still kicks - just like Bear Witchers, it’s resilient till the very end.

Haern Caduch: Built into the side of the Amell Mountains, it’s the coldest environment of all the schools. As with the other schools, the Bears were forced out of it due to folk riots. It was left in disrepair to be buried under snow and ice (as seen on the card). It’s name could be translated as “Piercing Whiskers”.

Armor Up: As Bear’s are more likely to stand in the way of attack than dodge, they need to wear a heavy armour at all times.

Salamandra:

Roland Bleinheim & Gellert Bleinheim: Witcher 1 characters. They are thought to be brothers, leading the Salamandra organization. As drug lords one heads the fisstech operation in Vizima’s sewers (Roland), the other in the swamps (Gellert). The flavour text pretty much matches: both of them wondering what the other one is doing.

Salamandra Mage: The art itself was already leaked in China around 2 years back, and there were a few theories. One of them was that the man depicted is Zerrikanian, and I think that’s correct. Both the facial tattoo, darker skin, thinly braided hair and fire magic points in that direction. Azar Javed (a known Salamandra fire mage) happens to be a Zerrikanian escapee too.

Salamandra Lackey: A girl with the Salamandra-stapled mask runs from a city guard. The flavour text says the following: “Lackeys are expected to perform their first five jobs for no pay, demonstrating their passion for the gig.” The organization monitors from the beginning that only those remain who are extremely loyal to their cause.

Fallen Rayla: A little background for those who are unfamiliar with her: Rayla of Lyria was a veteran of the Nilgaardian Wars. She harbours anti-nonhuman sentiments after she was captured by Scoia’taels and severely maimed. The Rayla we see on the card is a mutant - in Witcher 1 she was supposedly shot down by Scoia’tael, and Salamandra found her close to death, subjected her to mutation. She was killed by Geralt.

Salamander: The card shows a bright blue spotted salamander. It has two tails and heads (possibly grown together?). The Salamander is a symbol of the organization. Metaphorically speaking it could mean, that Salamandra thought of itself as something untouchable: “best to avoid petting them, as the salamander, when threatened, secretes a deadly toxin”.

Failed Experiment: The card - ironically - thrives when it’s poisoned. The “experiment” only resembles a human in shape. It’s clutching the table ends, as if trying to escape still. It’s fair to assume that they later dissected it: “even failed experiments can serve a purpose”.

Salamandra Abomination: A step further from the failed experiment - we see the results of pushing science’s boundaries. Only the skull is left intact, everything else of the body is covered with insectoid-like growths.

Stolen Mutagens: Gruesome organ harvesting. The witcher heart (?) glows, which is either an artistic decision (probable) or the mages sent magic into the body, and the mutagens light up (like angiographia). Three types of mutagens can be harvested: red (strength), blue (magic) or green (resilience). I headcanon that the amount they inject of the three types can vary - that’s how you get strength inclined witchers like the wolves (red), or big ass mothers like the bears (green).

Salamandra Hideout: There are multiple hideouts in Witcher 1 (outskirt of Visima, crypt in sewers and one in the trade quarters). The one depicted here is the fisstech lab in the sewers. It shows a dimly lit, cobwebbed room. There’s an elevation where a body lays on the table. The elevation’s floor is gridded, so the blood and other fluids can freely flow down into the sewer water, where many bodies are already discarded recklessly.

Neutral:

Alzur & Viy & Koshchey: Alzur was a charismatic mage and spell inventor, who created many horrible monsters, like the koshchey (with the spell: Alzur’s Double Cross) and the Viy (a huge centipede-like insectoid). He was also the one who did the lion’s share of work with the witcher’s mutation.

Cosimo Malaspina: Cosimo was the teacher of Alzur. He was known for his knowledge in hybridization and genetic modification. Him and Alzur were the true creators of the witchers sect. On the gwent card, three man are shown prodding at a mutated body. Cosimo (the old dude) is in the middle, Alzur might be the one on the left and that leaves Idarran on the right. His flavour text paints him as cold and clinical, someone without empathy: “Children keep asking him for gifts. He doesn’t know why, but it really helps with finding subjects for his experiments.”

Idarran of Ulivo & Idr & Wererat: Idarran was one of the contributers of the witcher experiments. He’s an expert in hybridization and genetic modification, whose teacher was Alzur. He was a pale kid who lived in the canals of Vizima and experimented on rats at the age of 5. He found beauty in gruesome creations, like the Wererat (a human-sized rat on roids) and the Idr (a big centipede-like insectoid). He’s disdained by Geralt for his many monsters.

Triangle within a Triangle: It’s a magic spell used to introduce a series of mutations and to greatly increase the mass of a given body. That way they can create huge monstrosities, like the koshchey. Adepts often confuse it with a pentagram which can lead to infernal disasters.

Selective mutation: The card shows a close up of a young man’s eyes - one mutated (catlike) one human. His skin shows his high toxicity level, ashen with prominent veins. He’s held down as alchemists prepare to inject a yellow concoction into the human eye. It’s possible that after the success of witchers the mages tried to recreate the changes in smaller scale, then unmake it in turn, unsuccessfully.

Witcher Student: This is not really a card, but I included it anyway. The card’s ability is - ironically - doomed, and to add insult to injury, its flavour text is the following well-known fact: “Four out of ten boys survive… at most.” It’s also a point for black humour that the gwent commentators added: the Trial of Grasses card boosts this unit significantly.

Berengar: He’s a Wolf School Witcher who blamed his school for denying him a normal life and consequently abandoned them. In Witcher 1 Geralt can decide to kill or spare him. In a letter he admits that he was a coward because he betrayed Kaer Morhen and worked with Salamadra in hope that they can undo his mutation. His card references a questline in Witcher 1, where he tried to reason with the vodyanoi (~lovecraftian fish people) to spare the village’s prize-winning cow, named Strawberry. This is non-canon; in the game Geralt takes over the quest to do this instead.

Leo: Another Witcher 1 character. He was an orphan taken in by Vesemir. He was a kind-hearted but hot-headed man, who had all the training but not the mutations and the experience - he never killed a man. The flavour text of his gwent card kind of mocks his death: “He would have caught the arrow if he only had some heads-up.” He’s burned on a pyre and his cenotaph can be found south of Kaer Morhen.

Geralt: Quen: The last classical sign that wasn’t yet a card. In the art, Geralt is wearing the Manticore armour

Snowdrop: She’s a not yet seen character; impish looking female bard with light blond hair (flowers braided on the side) who plays a medieval version of the fiddle to a rooster. There’s a horseshoe hanging from the hem of his pants. She’s also seen in the gwent: journey #3 launch trailer. She’s narrating that she was saved by Alzur. Alzur told her about his plans of creating witchers to fight the beasts of the Continent, and she admired him so much she spread his story (”let me tell you about the greatest sorceress to ever lived”). Their story will unveil in the next week, I’ll probably update accordingly. It’s also interesting that Alzur says in the gwent intro (regarding witchers): “Bards will toil to do justice to their feats.” As if his own successes and experiences will be mirrored in his creations. Projecting much?

Monsters:

Viy & Idr: both of them are centipede-like insectoids conjured by infamous mages (see: Alzur and Idarran)

Wererat: same can be said about this one. Idarran experimented on Vizima’s sewer rats since the age of 5. This human sized abomination was the end result.

Succubus: We already discussed how the “Succubus” doesn’t fit the theme. Other interesting thing is the surrounding of her - in the background we can see a skull full of some kinda of dark liquid; she’s also holding a goblet. I’m not saying she’s drinking blood, but if she does, it would shed some questions as succubi don’t need to drink blood at all.

Phooca: As nekkers’ rare big brother, phoocas are ogroids that have the strength to rip a man’s head off with their bear hands. According to the wiki, in Celtic folklore they are regarded as shapeshifting fairies.

Koshchey: A witcher 1 boss, koshcheys are spider-like abominations summoned by mages. The woman standing her ground in the picture is Visenna (Geralt’s druid mom). In the story she’s the one to kill the first koshchey ever created.

Spontaneous Evolution: Under the Red Moon the wolf mutated into an amalgamation of eyes and teeth. Malaspina possibly added something to the mix that proved unstable. The card’s name is kind of ironic - this change is not spontaneous (it was induced) but could be related to evolution (it would imply that this form is somehow advantageous to the current environment and helps adaptation). (Note: in my opinion spontaneous generation would be a better term: it’s the thought that living creatures could arise from nonliving matter.)

Hybrid: the card shows a two-headed wolf or dog. Pretty straight-forward.

Chimera: A creature created my Cosimo Malaspina. He combines the genes of a fiend and griffin, then added a trace of insectoid and wyvern. It kind of looks like a furred wyvern with antlers. Interestingly the frightener (an insectoid; a rare result of magical experiment) is also called a chimera.

Dol Dhu Lokke: a new monster lair location. The depending on how you translate “lokke” the Elder can be read as “black valley place” or “alluring black valley”. It’s so dangerous - housing many-a horrors - that even a witcher thinks twice before going near it.

Interesting tidbits

Coen has hair, which is weird because so far he was described in all sources as bald.

There used to be a card that was also called Viper Witcher, which is now referred to as “Kingslayer”

The Bear Witcher’s face was drawn after one of CDPR’s employee.

The Koshchey’s card title has a typo: “Koschchey”.

Easter eggs (mainly in flavour text)

The Spontaneous Evolution card references The Powerpuff Girls intro: “Professor Malaspina accidentally added an extra ingredient to the concoction - compound X.”

The Bear Witcher card might reference a song of Baloo from the Jungle Book (The Bare Necessities): “Life alone on the road can be tough - be sure to bring all the bare necessities.”

#my shit #the witcher #gwent #witcher meta #witcher lore #i worked really hard on this #i hope it shows lol #if y'all have any thoughts i'd be happy to hear about them #cross my heart i don't bite

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mooncruiser · 3 years

Photo

Heyy!! I’ve been meaning to pin my testimony, so here it is :)

So, my life wasn’t really the greatest growing up. I mention C-PTSD in my bio, and that’s what I’ll get into a bit. I’ll try not to be too graphic, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be totally safe.

There were some questionable things in my toddler years, a neglectful daycare center for 3 months, my dad being in and out of my life due to fear of getting attached at first, him flying off the handle once with me (my mom got on him for it, so it never happened again) but I think the trauma started with my cousins leaving me stuck out in a baby swing twice, a near death experience with a dog bite, and a homicidal attempt on me and my mom by my sister, who was 16 at the time (I’m 5 years old).

There was also the dog cage incident I believe at…6 years old? Me and my brother were playing and he forgot me on accident. I pretty much accepted at this point that life was gonna chain me up and try to kill me lol, but it let up for a good while, and I had a pretty decent childhood. At 9 years old, there was the torturously loud school program in the gym I had to sit through for 2 hours, I think.

It was at 10 when things became chronically ongoing. Domestic violence at home from my sister (physical, emotional abuse on me and my family), more physical and emotional abuse at school from my assistant teacher because I was on an IEP for my autism. At 11, I was sexually abused by my female friend who was 12, and her female cousin, who was 13. I was abandoned by my cousins and aunt, and I was being placed in a seclusion room at school during standardized tests (which was sensory deprived solitary confinement) even after I was finished for the day. At 12 years old, I started being emotionally neglected by my mother.

I mean, I was so angry and depressed and secretly suicidal at 10, but by 12 I was severely dissociating (I had been dissociating during trauma at various times prior). I had so much fear and anxiety that by the time I was 13 I’d be feeling like passing out 24/7, so I got on meds, which only helped the more severe physical symptoms, I guess.

At 13, I started being groomed by this high school girl that liked me. She was a Sophomore, and I was in 7th grade. She noticed the neglect and told me she knew me better. She would give me gifts, teach me to ship gay pairings, gave me a gay pedophilic manga. Shamelessly told me she had sexual relations with her male cousin and his friends who were around my age. I blocked it out.

I also had a very abusive friendship with a girl online who had BPD. My assistant teacher, who came with me to middle school, restrained and tortured me with the marching band’s loud music in the hallway, which only intensified my dissociative symptoms (I was actually switching alters at this point regularly and having no idea).

I remember at 13 being confused about my gender and sexuality. My mom was no help and just wanted me to hide it from my family and everyone else, for reputation purposes and she didn’t want me bullied. That was actually how I decided to get in contact with my grooming abuser, which I wonder at this point whether that was my fault. I didn’t expect her to really take over like she did, but I was essentially brainwashed into accepting whatever I was feeling for her benefit. I just wanted advice and a friend.

I was so lonely, I had been desperate for friends for years, and I was desperate for someone to love me in any way, honestly. I was overeating. I’d spend hours daydreaming, in video games or entertainment to escape from school and everything else. During meltdowns, I’d be doing self injurious behaviors.

So by 14, I come out as a lesbian. Had a couple relationships with girls who just saw me as a sexual object (I remember saying yes to sexual things even though I didn’t want to, just so that they wouldn’t abandon me. Dissociating off and finding it disgusting), would cheat on me with multiple people, ignore me for new friends, etc.

The BPD friend I dated, when I broke up with her, immediately attempted suicide so that scarred me more into our trauma bond. She’d show me self harm pics she took from time to time. It scared me into making sure I didn’t trigger her again, but u know I never knew what triggered her in the first place, so, like with everything else, I had no strategy to life. It was either fight, run, dissociate or nod yes to everything. She took up the latter lol.

I came out as trans my Freshman year, and stayed that way into my Sophomore year. I was bitter about dating because of the whole sexual object thing, and full of shame at the same time, thinking no one would want me. I thought I was asexual. I tried out a career high school honestly just to get away from the memories of my old school.

Some feelings about being trans started to fade, but not entirely, so I went by genderfluid/genderqueer from 17-19. I was excited to make new friends at my new school, but my anxiety kept me from it. I opened up very awkwardly about my dating history to one girl (which tbh I shouldn’t have, but I had been brainwashed so lol) and she told all the girls in my lab, and I was excluded and bullied (and cyberbullied) from thereon.

I didn’t know it at first, it was so subtle. But once I knew, I tried standing up for myself and told the principal, which made them leave me alone for the most part. They’d glare at me, use me at graduation, cyberbully me one last time 8 months after graduation, and that was it. I still had to deal with domestic violence until I was 22, but once I graduated everything pretty much hit me.

I knew I’d be too stressed out to go to college or work. School indoctrination tried to teach me to be neurotypical and expect this, but it wasn’t happening. I was too afraid to leave my house for a year, and too afraid to be honest online for fear of being watched and bullied, or stalked. I was seriously considering suicide down the line. I thought I had nothing left to live for. I was useless. Nobody cared. Friends moved on to their new lives and I was dying.

That’s when Jesus stepped in.

I guess I started being curious about God again for the first time since I was 12. I always believed in God, was grateful to Him for being there for me during the domestic violence and never blamed Him for it. I found out about worship music and was thrilled, and a question came up. Was being gay a sin? My grooming abuser taught me that God made me gay, so it was alright. But I wanted to know for sure this time from the Word.

To my surprise, she was wrong. The Bible said it was indeed, a sin (the practice, not so much the identity aspect). I couldn’t piece together why, so I struggled with it for months. On my 20th birthday however, when I got done creating fanart of a gay pairing, I felt strongly convicted by the Holy Spirit that it was wrong. So I went to God.

I said, “If it is wrong, please change me so I can make You happy, because I love You. In the meantime, I won’t do anything in support of it for a while. If it’s not wrong, don’t change me, and I’ll know which way is right because I trust You.” When I look back on it, it was a pretty crazy prayer. Lots of people have said they couldn’t “pray the gay away”, and I do wonder what the difference was with me.

After 3 months, I stopped to check if I still felt anything, and the feelings were gone. My gender dysphoria was gone, too. I was way too afraid to tell anybody yet, but I remember when I did, one of the first people I told was my grooming abuser.

She was livid, tried one last time to intimidate me. Another time we crossed paths (she came out of nowhere saying hi, said she worked at that market, complimented me and walked away smiling) and I was triggered, I messaged her and told her how she hurt me and I couldn’t bear to be around her anymore, but I hoped she’d have a good life. She didn’t respond online, but she complained to my sister that I thought she was a predator, and by the end of the conversation tries to get her to tell me she said hi. When she had kids, she was planning on raising them to be nonbinary. Her husband was abusive to them, so she ended up losing them. She never bugged me again.

I was blown away by how God had changed me. How He opened my eyes to the truth. I prayed for Him to open my eyes to whatever else I had been blind to, and He slowly began lifting off the amnesia surrounding all my traumas, urging me towards recovery with Him. I realized I might have OSDD-1b recently as well, which is strange that I could have possibly had DID prior to losing my amnesia?

I have been on this journey ever since, journaling, blogging, researching, and finally in a wonderful therapy called EMDR where I truly release the traumas from my body, hear God’s new positive beliefs to replace old negative ones from my childhood, and experience loving extraordinary visions while processing that teach me to focus on Jesus, trust Him more, love and pray for my enemies, and have a real satisfying relationship with Him that’s unattainable with anyone on Earth, along with daily Bible study.

The picture on the left was me at 16 in my old life, the one on the right is me in my new creation :) God bless all of you, thank you for reading this far 💕💖

#testimony #long post

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alecmagnuslwb · 4 years

Text

The Great Marriage License Mystery

Read on AO3

Magnus groans, back feeling like hell. He lifts himself up and immediately falls off the couch landing directly on his back onto a stack of red solo cups.

“Fuck,” he shouts out as he rolls to the side to lift himself up, a party mask on a stick digging into his side.

“Stop being so loud,” a female voice he knows well grumbles from above. Magnus finally lifts himself up into a sitting position to see Isabelle lying face down surrounded by a nest of multi colored feather boas on the couch opposite the one he’d just fallen from.

Magnus finds the inner strength to stand looking around the room. It’s his apartment, not that he remembers coming home at all, and it’s a wreck. Cups, half empty bottles of liquor and an array of party favors from the evening’s festivities cover every surface. His paintings on the walls are crooked, the strip of photobooth pictures that he and Alec had taken on their trip to Tokyo for their one-month anniversary are sitting sadly in a puddle of something. He walks over squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming in and pics up the photo strip shaking them out best he can.

He sniffs them confirming the liquid to be vodka and not something worse. He pins them back up on the corkboard where they belong smiling at the happy looks on their faces despite the fact his head feels like there’s a tiny gnome with a hatchet running around inside of it.

Isabelle shifts on the couch lying on her back now.

“Did we die?” she asks eyes still closed.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus says picking up a pink cowboy hat from the chair nearest to him and plopping down into it heavily.

“What time is it?” she asks pulling a few of the feather boas around her like a blanket.

Magnus looks down at his watch about to answer when his bedroom door suddenly slams open. A flash of long red hair streaks across the apartment headed straight for the bathroom.

Clary shuts the door behind her and an unfortunate heaving sound follows. Izzy sits up quickly eager to get to her fiancée, a decision she clearly immediately regrets if the way she woozily lies back down is anything to go by.

The bathroom door swings open a moment later, Alec steps out looking disheveled as hell wearing a Hunter’s moon t-shirt he definitely hadn’t been wearing when the night before had started.

“I don’t recommend sleeping in a bathtub when you’re 6”4,” he says voice gravelly from misuse. He squints his eyes grabbing a pair of sunglasses laying on the table as he walks past it and slips them on. “You might want to check on your fiancée, she’s throwing up half her body in there.”

Alec sits down heavily on the couch beside his sister patting her on the shoulder. She nods, takes a deep breath and centers herself standing up slowly. This time she makes it picking her way through the trash littering the floor her 8-inch heels somehow still secured to her feet.

“Your weddings in like four hours, just a reminder!” Magnus shouts and wishes he hadn’t. Judging from the way Alec plugs his ears and Izzy flips him off no one else does either. Hangovers all around it seems, a sign of a good bachelorette party.

Magnus listens for a few moments to Isabelle softly reassuring Clary, heels clicking on the tile of the bathroom floor. He looks over at his boyfriend once again heaving himself to stand and flop down beside him on the bed of boas.

“Good morning baby,” Alec grumbles lifting his arm and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus hums reaching up and entangling his fingers with Alec’s. He shifts enough to toss his legs over Alec’s and looks down noticing a piece of white paper sticking out from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows leaning back enough to pull the paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and practically jolts up from the couch. In looping script that looks like Isabelle’s is his name and what appears to be one half of a marriage license.

“Ummm Magnus!” Isabelle yells rushing out of the bathroom and directly to them on the couch. Alec shifts seemingly having fallen back asleep. She shakes a piece of paper in his face almost identical to his half. “This was in MY pocket.”

Magnus takes it from her lining it up with his. A piece of the full sheet is still missing only the last name Lightwood on Isabelle’s section the first name missing. She falls beside him seeing the almost full document.

“There’s no way,” he says laughing nervously. There’s no way.

Isabelle is just as alert as he in now, eyes in a panic. Alec sits up taking off his sunglasses. He looks from the papers to Magnus’s eyes, his eyes just as wide as his sisters.

“I also have this,” she says holding up her left hand revealing a diamond band on her thumb. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s one of mine,” Magnus says looking down at one of his empty fingers. “Oh, shit that’s one of mine.”

Alec falls back into the couch, no longer pressed into Magnus’ side.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Isabelle says dropping her head into her hands.

Clary comes out of the bathroom, eye makeup resembling a raccoon with a huge bottle of mouth wash in her hands. Chairman Meow appears circling around her socked feet trying to trip her up, she takes it in stride and steps over him easily.

“Just in case,” she says when she notices Alec judging the bottle. “So, I’m guessing from those repetitive oh my gods it’s not us that got married last night.”

“No,” Isabelle moans dramatically throwing herself on the ground, arms tossed over her eyes. “I married my brother’s boyfriend probably as a dumb joke or something the night before my wedding. Jace will never let me live this down.”

“We don’t know that. It just says Lightwood, it could be us!” Magnus argues looking at his boyfriend uncertainly. Alec looks a little bit like a deer in the headlights so Magnus scrambles. He’s not really sure what’s the better option: accidentally marrying your boyfriend of two months in a drunken stupor or marrying your boyfriend’s sister as a joke in a drunken stupor. At least he hopes it was a dumb joke if it’s the latter, the former well he’s not sure if he and Alec are ready to get into that no matter how quickly their relationship has progressed. “Or you know it’s fake, fake is an option.”

Clary steps over inspecting the paper.

“Paper’s too high quality for a fake,” she shrugs sitting down on the coffee table. Magnus gives her a pointed look, making it clear she’s not helping this situation.

The four of them sit there silently for a while. Alec is the first to speak up.

“Okay, what does everyone remember from last night? Let’s piece this together,” he says reasonably opening the floor to whoever wants to start.

It takes about twenty minutes but they get a vague timeline from memory and other evidence pulled from their pockets. They scour the apartment as they talk making hangover remedies while desperately searching for the missing piece of the license.

So far they’ve determined things started here, pre-gaming with cocktails and dinner then it was the Hunter’s Moon where Magnus absolutely demolished Alec in a series of pool games. That’s when Alec lost his shirt as well, a beer spilled on him by Jace who’d already had far too much to drink. Magnus had forgotten the detail, but Alec recalls it with annoyed clarity.

After the Hunter’s Moon, Jace had been sent home in a cab, Maia, Bat and the rest of their friends had come along with them to Pandemonium and that was where things got blurry. By 11:30 their friends had all called it a night, but the four of them had hit the dancefloor. Dancing then turned into competition when Izzy had challenged Magnus and Alec to a couple’s tequila shot off. Magnus assumes they won considering how Clary handles her liquor.

Then it all goes well and truly blank for them all. Clary’s phone is missing entirely, Alec’s is dead and seemingly has been since at least midnight. Izzy’s phone is just a series of back and forth drunken texts with Jace that are increasingly sarcastic and misspelled.

Magnus is the only one with a possible lead. There’s evidence of a Lyft being called that took them to the venue where Izzy and Clary are getting married in mere hours and a 15-minute call with Raphael somewhere around one in the morning.

Magnus dials his number immediately hoping for answers.

“You asked me to go through the whole ceremony,” Raphael says after five minutes of making fun of them all. Magnus’ childhood best friend never did finish the process of becoming a full-blown preacher, not finding it for him in the end, but he’s ordained for weddings and had happily offered to do the ceremony when Clary and Izzy still hadn’t found someone two weeks before.

“Why?” the four ask in frustrated unison.

“Dios, I don’t know. You were all trashed but you insisted, so to get you to leave me alone because some of us who are involved in this wedding wanted to get a good night’s rest, I went through the whole thing, start to finish,” he explains.

“Did vows get exchanged or anything?” Alec asks.

“Not really, but you did all say ‘I do’ at some point I couldn’t tell who though, I’m pretty sure you were all outside,” Raphael answers. “Which in theory I guess would mean someone got married, but not that it matters I mean ordained or not without a license it’s not legally binding.”

They all sigh.

“That’s the problem,” Magnus grumbles. They end the call after that saying goodbyes and see you soons.

“Alright,” Alec says sounding the level headed big brother and leader he always is. “Here’s the plan’ everyone needs to shower first. We’re short on time so that means couples, no funny business though. Raphael said we were outside, so that probably means we couldn’t get into the venue when we decided to go. Magnus and I can ask around while the two of you get ready since we have to be there anyways.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And what do we do if it was us that got married?” Magnus asks gesturing between him and Izzy.

They’re all silent. Clary is the first to pipe up, taking this whole situation surprisingly well. Maybe throwing up half of one’s body weight brings clarity.

“I mean only the four of us saw it, it hasn’t been officially filed, just signed and if we give Raphael permission to mock us about it for the rest of our lives he won’t say anything,” she reasons.

She grabs Izzy’s hand pulling her to the shower leaving no room for argument.

Magnus blows out a long breath leaning against the kitchen counter where they’d all gathered. Alec joins him, crossing his arms.

“Are you mad I may have accidentally married your sister?” Magnus says quietly.

Alec snorts.

“No, we were all beyond drunk last night and knowing you and Izzy it was some competitive dare that went a step too far.”

Magnus chuckles, that does sound like them.

“And what if,” he pauses a little worried. “What if it was us that accidentally got married?”

Alec turns reaching up to pull a piece of confetti from Magnus’ hair. His hand slides down brushing Magnus’ cheek.

“Then we got married,” he shrugs.

Isabelle’s phone rings breaking the moment, on today of all days he’s fairly certain she’d appreciate them picking it up. It’s the caterer and the call takes long enough that he and Alec have barely five minutes for a shared shower before calling a cab to get to the venue. They don’t get to talk about Alec’s casual shrug about them being married like it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once they’re at the venue people start filing in Maryse and Maia take charge of Isabelle while Clary is drifted away by Simon and Jace. They both lock eyes with Magnus and Alec trusting them to get answers or burn the pieces of marriage license before the days over.

Alec is the first to be fully ready so he heads around to ask the staff some questions. He eventually is led to the night security guard who simply shrugs saying he’d fallen asleep on the job. The only evidence that they were even there is in the form of Magnus’ Lyft history and a feather boa exactly like the ones in Magnus’ apartment tangled in a bush outside. Alec sends him a picture of it attached with the message, ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be finding these around New York for the rest of the year.’

Everything goes by in a rush after that. Magnus never gets the chance to bring up anything to Alec as they take their places as groomsmen.

The wedding is beautiful, Raphael does an excellent job so much so that Clary’s stepdad bursts into tears only two lines in. Clary and Izzy exchange vows that make everyone else cry and Izzy dips Clary as they kiss to everyone’s delight. They look the happiest they’ve ever been, clearly no longer thinking about the possible mistake marriage that was.

Magnus however can’t think of anything else. The sun has fallen and the cake has been cut by the time he gets a moment alone with Alec. He steps outside for some fresh air just beside the bushes where the feather boa still flaps in the wind and Alec slips out behind him. Two long arms wrap around his waist and Magnus leans back into a strong chest.

They stand there quietly, the muffled sound of music behind them.

“You know,” Magnus says eventually. “You were pretty casual about the concept of us being accidentally married this morning.”

Alec once again the picture of nonchalance just shrugs.

“I mean at first it was a lot, but once the worst of the hangover subsided I realized if it was us well, that’s not the worst thing. I love you; I have intentions to be with you for as long as you’ll have me so that works.”

Magnus shifts so that Alec is standing in front of him eyes a little glassy. Alec takes the tears to be a bad thing.

“I get it though if it’s way too soon to be thinking or saying anything like that, or,” Alec freezes as Magnus puts a finger in front of his lips.

“I feel the same way,” he smiles. “I mean it’s not ideal and like Clary said it’s not official till it’s filed, but I do feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind we’re heading that way one day.”

Alec smiles kissing the tip of Magnus’ finger where it still rests against his lips. He pulls Magnus into a hug. Magnus rests his chin on Alec’s shoulder eyes still open and that’s when he spots it. The feather boa shifts in the wind and a small white piece of paper is revealed skewered on the prickly end of the bush.

He pulls back from Alec leaping down the two small steps to pick the piece of paper from the bush.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says snatching up the sliver of paper and flipping it over. The missing piece of the license. Alec steps over, joining him.

“Is that?” he starts looking over Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus nods holding it up for Alec to read. Alec smiles, pulling the Lightwood piece he’d been holding onto from his pocket as Magnus does the same with his part.

Alexander the missing piece reads in Isabelle’s looping script.

“Guess your stuck with me now,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly.

“Technically it hasn’t been filed, so not officially,” he jokes, pulling Magnus in by the waist. “Plus it’s in three pieces I don’t think the courthouse is going to accept it.”

“Pfft, just needs a little tape,” Magnus says gathering the three pieces of paper and folding them carefully before placing them in the inner pocket of his wine-red jacket a compliment to Alec’s black one and Isabelle’s deep red dress. “Plus, Clary’s stepdad is the Mayor, we can totally get some strings pulled.”

Alec laughs shifting to drape his arms over Magnus’ shoulders.

“You mean it?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “We have to have a party bigger than this one at some point though,” he says gesturing back to the reception hall. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alec says seriously. “So we’re gonna be Mr. and Mr. Lightwood then?”

Magnus hums tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“I was thinking Mr. and Mr. Bane actually.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec says before pulling Magnus into a kiss.

They never do piece together the night exactly. Eventually Izzy gets the ring off her thumb and it fits Alec’s ring finger perfectly they discover, Magnus in turn realizes he has an exact double of it that he starts wearing himself. Why Isabelle filled out the license or if they kissed after they said I do or even actually said it is never truly answered.

Their actual marriage will be a mystery for the rest of their lives, but Magnus does get his party an acceptable six months after Clary and Izzy’s.

#my fic #malec #clizzy #shadowhunters #malec fic #clizzy fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #clary fray #isabelle lightwood #raphael santiago

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racingtowardsaredlight · 5 years

Text

Joe Mazzello NSFW Alphabet

Warning: This contains SMUT and like a lot of it so be v v prepared

Y’all thirsty for this but so am I so let’s do it

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Joe might be 50% chaos but he’s also 50% cuteness so you bet his goofy ass is snuggling you while also cracking jokes. I also get the feeling that he’s the type who likes to make jokes with you about the sex you just previously had like maybe you make fun of him for being so sensitive (ticklish) on his thighs and he’s just like “yeah okay but at least I don’t like getting choked ya kinky fuck” and then you guys just roast each other and snuggle until you eventually fall asleep

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

So when it comes to sex, Joe definitely loves his arms. He doesn’t spend multiple days in the gym during the week working his arms just so he looks good in leather jackets no no no, he spends all that time getting built so he can pin you down while he eats you out or hold you up against the wall while he takes you just about anywhere and anytime he wants. He used to like his hips the most (mostly because of the noises he’d get out of you when he slammed into you from behind) but one somewhat drunken night you went on for a solid hour about how turned on you got when you saw his arms and then they just became his favorite since you loved them so much.

His favorite body part of yours was definitely your tits. Speaking of drunken confessions, Joe once slurred out how much he wanted fuck your tits - which would be super sexy except for the fact that it was at a very public bar and in front of Ben and Gwil (who were too drunk to care at the time but definitely brought it up again). You did eventually let him have his way with your chest days later, but not without a proper scolding and then poking fun at him.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person) (i am so sorry for the FILTH that is this paragraph like w o w )

We already know Joe loves your boobs so obviously he loves to finish on them. Especially after you’ve blown him, his cum hitting your chest is just icing on the cake for him. However, when it came to taking your relationship to the next level (i.e. wanting kids/ baby making time), Joe loved to cum inside of you. He loved when you’d ride him, his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks and then watching as you pulled off of him while his cum dripped out of you. If he wasn’t already fucked out, that did him in.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Clothed sex. The man may be 36 but damn it if he doesn’t love to feel like a horny teenager again, fooling around with you whenever he could. The fact that you can rile him up without ever shedding a layer both stunned him and made him want to fuck you even more. The very few times you made him cum in his pants, Joe was pretty sure he was 18 all over again and also thought he might have seen heaven with how hard and fast you could make him cum and mess his very expensive trousers. He wishes it happened more often but he’d never say a word to you (bc dirt secret duh)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You take one look at that man and you try and TELL ME he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He could make you cum in SECONDS if he wanted to.

F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying)

If he’s feeling fast and freaky: Joe loved to either bend you over any surface he could find (he’d settle for holding you against the wall if a counter or tabletop didn’t see fit to his requirements) OR he’d lie back and let you ride him and have your way with him.

If he’s feeling in love/soft: Joey boy loves some vanilla sex. Missionary. Hand holding. Eye contacts. I love you’s. All the mushy gushy stuff. He eats that up and he knows you do too. The man loves to love so he does it right.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It doesn’t matter what kind of sex your having, fast, slow, quickie, or all-day long, Joe will always be a goofball. The first time you guys had sex, he was so nervous that he tried to crack a joke just to ease the tension and it made the both of you laugh so hard that you had to take a break. Needless to say, Joe’s humor in bed kept you guys grounded, and it just made you love your chaotic, goofy boy even more.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)

He’s well-groomed. Nothing too crazy and he isn’t completely stripped either. Just nicely trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

As mentioned in F, Joe likes a mushy gushy moment, but every sexual moment had some sort of soft intimacy at some point just like it had some type of goofy moment. Joe adores you and he never wants to let you forget it, so even if he’s railing you against a bathroom counter at some fancy LA party, he’ll still look you in the eyes and tell you how much he loves you before and after you both cum.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Whenever Joe had to go away for work, he’d always FaceTime call you so you could lend him a virtual hand. On the days you were anticipating the calls (he’d text you a pic of his not so little problem tenting his boxers with the caption “FaceTime?” and like ten prayer emojis) you’d get out a little lingerie and something to cover up with. Some days you’d throw a big tshirt over yourself to look like you weren’t all dolled up underneath while other days you’d opt for a silky robe or one of Joe’s Yankees jerseys, the latter of which drove him absolutely wild. While he loved to watch you get off while he did too, you always insisted that he was more stressed out so he should be the one who comes first. This was always a relief for Joe as he’d be incredibly worked up before he called you so just seeing your face had him nearly cumming on the spot. On days he couldn’t FaceTime you, he’d pull out the polaroids you took of the two of you during one of your all night escapades and envision that you were there with him, touching him the ways you always did so perfectly.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Joe is a chaotic being so of course he’d be quite... adventurous. He loved the idea of public sex/ getting you off whenever and wherever he could. The fancier the place, the quicker he’d be trying to get his hands up your dress or have your mouth on his cock in whatever bathroom or hallway he could find.

He’s also big on nicknames. He preferred giving you them but he never complained when “Joey” passed your lips. His favorites for you were “princess”, “darling”, and “baby” though when you two were getting especially frisky “you little minx” might pop out.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

While he was adventurous, Joe still thinks nothing beats good ole fashioned bedroom sex. The way you looked sprawled out on his bed sheets, hair splayed around your face, the soft light of his nightstand lamp making you look ethereal - yeah, there was no greater sight to Joe. Nothing else could compare to the absolute bliss that came from taking you in his bed and then holding you close, never having to switch locations from love-making to cuddling.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Cliche as it sounds, everything you do gets him hard. Joe sometimes thinks he has a real problem, seeing as just the sight of you bending over to pick up something has him adjusting himself or taking you right then and there. But what really gets his cock hard is when you tease him, soft caresses over his jeans, whispering dirty things in his ear, anything you could do to allude to what was to come later got him harder than a rock and usually ended in him whimpering to you and begging for you to touch him.

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Joe would never do anything to hurt you or degrade you. Aside from some light mid-sex spanking, Joe would never hurt you on purpose or call you any type of name that was less than your character.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think it’s a toss up for which he prefers more. You mouth on his cock, sucking him dry while he moans like a goddamn pornstar was always top notch; but hearing you cry out his name and tug on his hair while he gives you as many orgasms with his mouth as he could managed have even brought him over the edge quite a few times. So Joe sees these as pretty evenly stacked bets, but he thinks if he really had to choose, your pleasure would beat his in the end.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)

Joe’s default setting on sex was always and will always be set to soft and sweet. Not too slow, not too fast, just the right pace to have you to both losing your minds while also feeling incredibly intimate. These setting changed of course based on his and your moods. Stressful days called for fast and rough while morning sex was reserved was slow and sweet loving.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

Quickies for Joe were like grabbing a bag of chips instead of eating the full meal. Yes they were delicious and satisfying enough to tide him over, but they were never the real deal and thus he always craved something more substantial.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)

Joe’s game to experiment but only after talking it over and making sure there was mutual want and consent for the experiments in question. As you relationship progressed, he’d get bolder and definitely be more spontaneous as long as you were down too.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

Joe usually surprised you with just how long he could last. While there were quite a few occasions in which Joe came sooner than expected (what can he say? you knew how to work him up), he almost always held out until he was fully inside of you and you were on the brink of your final orgasm. On the nights where he was too worked up and came much sooner than expected, giving himself a few extra minutes of working you up and hearing you beg him for more usually got him going again. Needless to say, his stamina was pretty damn good.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Joe didn’t own any toys himself but when he found out how fast you could lose control with a vibrator on your clit, well, Joe made sure to grab a few different kinds for future use. He mostly used them on you, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never used them on himself (See W for more details...)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Joe is a pretty straight to the point kind of guy so he’s not one teasing. He leaves that job to you since you seemed to do it so well. There were moments when he’d lightly tease you, usually when he went down on you. He’d run his beard along your thighs, plant open mouth kisses on your lower stomach, and - his favorite form of teasing - he’d leave hickies just about anywhere he could before finally allowing his mouth to touch where you needed it most.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Joe is LOUD and I will take no arguments on the matter. (note that one borhap interview where he just openly fucking whimpered like hi sir where is your self control) He loved to make noise and let you know just how goddamn good you made him feel. His noises could range from whimpers to moans of your name, and he’d always have some string of cuss words to accompany ever grunt and groan that fell from his lips.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Joe knew just how much you loved your vibrator so one day he decided to try it for himself. In his defense, you left it in his suitcase from your last weekend getaway and Joe happened to find it just as he was getting ready for bed while away for filming. Knowing you couldn’t FaceTime that night, he made himself comfy in his bed, pulled your pictures out to rile himself up and went to town. The absolute euphoria he felt when he let the vibrator, set to its lowest level, graze the head of his cock was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It only took him a few minutes of stroking himself while he pressed the vibrator to the base of his dick just above his balls before he was cumming hard and fast, eyes closed and whimpering your name. It was almost too much for him and Joe decided that he’d store that option away for when he was really desperate and needed to get off quick (or just when you were there and could help him feel even more risky).

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

I have been waiting to talk about this because there is just a way that Joe carries himself and speaks that have had me saying on many occasions “WE GET IT JOE YOU HAVE A BIG DICK” and I firmly believe the man is packing some serious heat. I understand the use of cups and their way of accentuating things but if you look at him in Undrafted, like, that’s a pretty big cup my guy and those things are meant to fit a certain way and like hug so... I’m just saying... *insert the eyes emoji like six times*

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think he’s got a pretty moderate sex drive. He’s always down when you are but there are plenty of other things he like to do besides dick you down. Joe’s got the biggest boner for domestic bliss so even if you’re not jumping each other’s bones he’s still perfectly happy. He has his moments when he absolutely aches for your touch but those are usually when he’s been gone filming too long or when you’ve been teasing him relentlessly.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s not one to pass out immediately afterwards, but he’s definitely a tired boy. Joe makes sure to take proper care of you, cleaning you up and making sure you’ve peed and that both of you have what you need before you pulls you in close and snuggles you. Sleeping isn’t the first thing on his mind after you two are done, in fact it might even be the last. He loves to hold you close and talk to you about anything and everything, all the while tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers or playing with your hair. Anything to have you close to him physically, emotionally, and mentally before you both finally drift off to sleep.

I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY ALSO I FEEL LIKE SIN SO I AM SO SORRY FOR THE FILTH THAT JUST TOOK PLACE

Tagging people who responded to my post about this so they can see it:

@spunky-town @michael-is-bae @fallinlovewhenitsdone @deanscroissant @mrsjosephmazzello @givemeunicornsorgivemedeath

#jm smut #jm fic #joseph mazzello #joe mazzello #joe mazzello smut #joe mazzello hc #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello alphabet #my shit #my writing

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julerocks · 4 years

Text

So here we go… dear @clariserenaldi this is for you and I really hope you like this little one shot.

Before I start, I have to go into some detail. A little while ago, we got that bts pic of Matteo lying on David’s desk and I saw that valve thingy was gone the day after and that was a headcanon I always wanted to read about.

Then Pauline’s druck fandom gift exchange happened and I thought “That’s it…this is the moment, use this and try to put your thoughts into words”. The thing is, I have never written anything before but wanted to be part of this wonderful event. Therefore, thanks to my lovely Inga @amyriadfthings and Pauline @shakshuka-grandpasweaters you both have no idea how much you helped me <3

And now, dear Steph this is for you.

Vielleicht Vielleicht

or how many headcanons can be put into roughly 2k words

Matteo thought he would sleep like a baby after these last days. He was sleep-deprived and yes, after the last 24 hours he would have bet all his money he would fall asleep the minute he laid his head on the pillow. However, David had other plans, not that Matteo complains, he loves this boy so much and making love to him after all this heartache and turmoil and not knowing if he would see him again felt like salvation and everything falling into place. From now on its David and Matteo, so simple yet so powerful.

Nevertheless, right now he is feeling more awake than ever. He is not sure, if David is still with him or if he is already sleeping. Matteo instinctively hugs David a little tighter to give him assurance he will be there for him even when he sleeps, trying to find his inner composure to fall asleep as well.

The floor lamp and both table lamps, which David switched on when they entered his room, are still on and Matteo feels the impulse to turn them off, so maybe he could find sleep eventually. He is convinced by now that David is sleeping soundly, considering his soothing and constant breathing. The problem is that half of David’s body is literally on top of Matteo and the latter does not want to wake him up, so he tries to move as slowly as possible. After a time that felt like an eternity, Matteo has freed himself from David’s embrace and stands up carefully.

‘These damn floorboards’ he thinks when they creak loudly as he takes his first step. He takes another step and tries to make himself as light as a feather. After a few steps, he arrives at the desk and switches off the floor lamp and the first on the table. He is reaching for the second one and the moment he wants to turn it off, his gaze falls on a red metal piece lying on the foot of the lamp. He touches the red thing, which seems to be the valve of a faucet, and asks himself what it might be.

“That’s from the pool,” David says in a sleepy voice and Matteo is so startled that he stumbles over his own feet and finds support on the desk chair.

“Alter… I thought you were asleep!” Matteo responds while trying to calm his heartbeat.

“It was cold all of a sudden and I noticed that you were no longer in bed,” David says and sits up. Matteo smiles fondly: “I just wanted to turn off the lamps and then I saw this valve and was wondering what it is.”

David tilts his head the way that Matteo loves so much, starts smiling warmly and begins to speak: “Well I took it with me the day we finally kissed.”

“Really?” Matteo looks surprised.

“Hm… I don’t know why, but I just had this feeling. Like something was gonna happen. First you fight with Sara… and then you wanted to get away with me. So yeah, I was very hopeful. That valve caught my eye just when I was thinking about what could happen with us,” David explains and rubs his face. “So I just couldn’t leave it there. Please come back to bed now.”

“Your wish is my demand,” Matteo grins and gets up, keeps the valve in his hand and goes back to David. He puts his arm around his boyfriend, David places his head on Matteo’s chest, and they both look at the red iron thing in Matteo’s hand.

“After I left you that Sunday morning I grabbed my jacket on my way out I found the valve again in my pocket. From then on, it is my lucky charm. These hours with you were the best I had in a very long time,” David pauses and looks up to Matteo.

“I had the valve with me always and everywhere. Down by the water that day and you told me that you broke up with Sara… I had it in my pocket and touched it to get some courage… I just I just wish I’d been braver that day.”

Matteo instinctively intensifies his embrace while David continues: “Do you remember that evening, when you messaged me after I came out to you, stating that you wouldn’t let me down? I was lying right here on my bed… holding the valve. Or when you called me before my math exam, I sat at my desk and had it right in front of me and I was relieved that you wanted to see me, you have no idea. That evening I went to bed happier than I had been in weeks, which was ridiculous considering in sight of the upcoming math exam, but I couldn’t help it, you know.”

Matteo briefly loosens the hug and puts the valve down on the floor besides the plant that is at his side of the bed and snuggles back to David again.

“I actually like the idea that you had something that reminded you of me the whole time. For me it was your drawings. I always kept them close, and pinned the second one on my wall and looked at it for hours. But don’t ever tell anyone about it, I still have a reputation to lose,” Matteo grins. “In an outburst I even crumbled the second one only to straighten it again afterwards. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.”

Matteo stops speaking because he has the feeling that David already fell back asleep and Matteo touches David’s hair because he missed it so much, but instead David asks softly:

“Do you know AnnenMayKantereit?”

“Yeah but that’s not my first choice of music. I’m more into K.I.Z, Frittenbude, Trettmann or RY X when I’m not in a good mood. Also a very important person to me introduced me to the music of a certain Irish singer. You know, I was actually familiar with that particular song… I mean I have not been living under a rock, but besides that song I haven’t heard any of his other stuff and have actually listened to everything he has ever released in the last 4 weeks,” Matteo pauses and strokes David’s arm.

“Always a pleasure to teach you some taste in music,” says David and fends off a loving punch from Matteo. “Since we are going down memory lane, do you actually remember which song you heard when we saw each other the first time in the hallway? I mean you were wearing your headphones that day,” Matteo asks.

“I was thinking about that yesterday, but you know what I have not a single clue. I would love to say something substantial like "Take me to church”, but yeah I have no idea. I mean, even if I did remember, the moment I saw you everything went blank. I had this strict plan of changing school, be as inconspicuous as possible to get my degrees for studying without having to interact with many people… yeah I felt that I never looked up from the floor, locking the world out while listening to music. However, the moment I actually did look up I saw your incredibly sad eyes, and I know it sounds silly, but I had the feeling even time slowed down. I felt drawn to you the minute we locked eyes,“ David laughs quietly to himself.

"It is cheesy, but I felt seen and I wanted to be seen, but only from you, if that makes sense. I had to take another look, that was nothing I could control, and then you looked back and I knew I was screwed and my plan had failed utterly,” David ends and after some time Matteo starts to speak:

“This is nice because I almost had the same feeling you know… I felt lost and the way you looked at me, I knew immediately that I wanted to get to know you and I was so freaking happy when you showed up at the abi prank committee… By the way, you were kind of checking me out.”

David starts to giggle and rubs his face into Matteo’s neck while he remembers this first interaction with the blonde boy.

“Ja! I actually noticed that,” says Matteo blissful while placing a kiss on David’s head. “My brain was running at full speed, just to keep us talking so I had to come up with something fast and was so relieved you accepted my offer of having a smoke with me,” Matteo chuckles. “But then you played that cool and mysterious dude and let me down with that eyelash. I was so proud of myself but you looked unimpressed as hell,” Matteo smiles and David places a little peck on his neck.

“Yeah, I admit that was adorable, you have no idea how much I have melted inside but I couldn’t let my guard down immediately… cool and mysterious you know."

David takes Matteo’s hand and looks at their intertwined fingers.

"I am so relieved I finally got you, Herr Schreibner.” Matteo kisses David’s brow like David kissed Matteo’s after their first time.

“And I am very happy I can finally be with you. There is still one thing I want to tell you and it has something to do with AnnenMayKantereit. There is this song called "Vielleicht, vielleicht” and I listened to it all the time in the weeks we were separated because it just reminded me so much of us. There are these lyrics that basically say that you see what I don’t show anyone else and that I can tell you things I am not telling myself, or that it’s easy to be honest with you and you give me time when I am not ready. Those words describe perfectly what I felt about us, even after that short time we spent together.“

Matteo kisses David. His mind is still overwhelmed at the thought that he is able to kiss David every time he wants to. He feels the warmth of David’s body and a sweet feeling rises in him. Is it possible that everything will be good in the end? They have each other from now on and Matteo just hopes that David knows he can trust him unconditionally.

"Would you play that song for me? I think I would like to hear it.”

“The AnnenMayKantereit song?”

Matteo nods.

David sits up, takes his cell phone from the bedside table and starts looking for the song. Matteo sees with half an eye that David is scrolling through a playlist that is called “Unterwasser” and Matteo can’t help but smile tenderly.

“Oh, will I ever get to hear the other songs of that playlist as well?”

“Yes, sure, but not now. Like a wise man once said: we have all the time in the world… or something like that.”

Both boys smile and they lie tightly wrapped around one another and listen to the voice of Henning May.

Suddenly Matteo feels overcome by drowsiness. He kisses David on the head and says “Enough for tonight. Sleep tight David. Ich liebe dich.”

But David can’t hear him anymore; he has already fallen asleep again.

Matteo takes the phone from David’s hand, covers him with a blanket and lies down himself, closes his eyes when…

‘Ah, god damn it… One lamp is still on!’

#druck #druck fandom gift exchange #druck fan fic #my headcanons

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