#i have never created anything more spectacular than this

[alsoalsothepodcast]

My dearest

I've missed you very, very much since that last night we were together And will hold that night especially in my memories for years to come I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately

I've read your letter through at least four times And will probably read it more times before I'm through

I've been sitting here, looking at your picture And getting more homesick every minute I've wanted that picture more than anything else I know of Except of course, you yourself

I keep thinking of you darling Keep wishing I could be home with you I want to leave in the worse possible way so I can come home to see you But, things don't look so good in that subject

This war has spoiled a lot of things for everyone I guess I've never been so lonesome in my life as I am right now I'm completely lost without you darling I never realized I could even miss any one person so much

I just hope it won't be too much longer till I'm able to be with you again And live a sane and normal life

#stranger things #mileven #spotify #playlist #if you thought i was proud of those gif sets #i have never created anything more spectacular than this #or we haven't #this one i didn't do on my own lol #starting off with that interlude though? #big brained moment #i will listen to this on a monthly basis all the way through

[pininghermit]

Just Talk to Me Already!

Genre: a sulking Adrian and struggling reader

Summary: All it took was a friends night out, 2 shots of vodka, and fake courage of your friends with your inflated drunk ego.

You woke up with empty arms and a spectacular view of Adrian's back – spectacular but tense. As if he hadn't just pushed himself away from your embrace the moment he felt your dream fading. But you are shameless. Unfazed by his earlier retreat, your arms circled his waist again as you drew closer. However, your attempt to settle comfortably as the big spoon was thwarted as your hands were gently pushed away, and your beloved extricated himself from the bed.

Sighing, you returned to your overheated pillow, its once-cool sides now exhausted. "Well, if this isn't the consequence of your stupid loud mouth," you groaned into your pillow.

It all began with a fateful night out with friends, two shots of vodka, and your inflated, drunken ego. Spilling the steamy details of your past steamy escapades with your ex to Adrian wasn't planned, but it happened, thanks to drunk you. A week had passed since that unfortunate incident, and Adrian was still sulking.

Normally, Adrian was impervious to your drunken antics, but this was different. It had hit a nerve, making him insecure about his own abilities and your genuine affection for him.

As the memories from that intoxicated night resurfaced amid the fog of a confusing hangover, you realized the extent of the damage. Of course, you'd apologized; you might be a wild drunk, but you were a civil person. You even tried to be cute, using the coy voice Adrian adored, but it didn't work.

Undeterred, you bought flowers, sweets, and, just for the heck of it, a dagger because your beloved had a penchant for such things. However, your care package failed to elicit even a faint smile. Instead, you found the dagger stabbed into the garden floor, a display of strength you chose to ignore for your own sanity.

Turning to a more romantic approach, you wrote a poetic letter. Adrian, known for his dramatic flair, should have appreciated it, right? Wrong. Your beautifully scripted words were obscured by grocery lists, budget planning, and reminders of yearly events...he could have used the plain blank side and no you did not pout looking at it.

Not to mention, he wouldn't even share dinner with you or rescue you from the culinary monstrosity you'd created. The desire for a simple meal prepared by Adrian had never been stronger.

In desperation you resorted to your trusted technique of annoyance. "Adrian look at me," you settled next to him, scooting whenever he tried to scoot. "Adrian look at my crooked tooth, does my finger look bent to you," you followed after him the entire day like a puppy.

Until Adrian became a damn bat and flew. Even the puppy eyes failed you.

It was only last night that he tried to slip out of your room, but you caught his wrist, stopping him. "Don't go," you said seriously. "Just sleep here. Give me a chance to make it right. So come here and lie next to me, Adrian. We can't act like a divorced couple; we aren't married, to begin with."

You pulled him back onto the bed, and he, despite his strength, let you. Wrapping your arms around him, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, ignoring the fact that his hair almost made you sneeze during this supposedly romantic moment.

"I won't say I was wrong," your words made him tense under your touch. "I've had my fill of fooling around, of being an untethered kite. It's great, but Adrian," you pulled him closer, preventing him from seeing your blush. "I don't need that with you. I don't need wild fantasies or extreme pleasures, though I can't get enough of you. Just being in the same room as you is more than satisfying."

Your hands traced patterns on his back as you thought through your words, articulating your feelings for the first time in your life. "Don't blame yourself for anything, Adrian. Don't carry that burden. I could never forgive myself if I became the reason for your sorrow. I will gladly be the crux of your resentment. Just stay by my side and let me make it up…" You spoke throughout the night until your words began to slur, and you woke up to the sight of Adrian's back.

At least he was still in the bed, which you counted as a small victory. You planned your next grand gesture to win him over, but little did you know that your antics were making a certain dhampir, you resisted to face you, smile uncontrollably.

As he heard you groan into your pillow, he promised himself to savor these moments just a bit longer, practicing his poker face in anticipation of the day filled with your endearing gestures.

#alucard #castlevania #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #fluff

[thedoctorsthings]

Power to the king | Min Yoongi pt. 1

Fantasy/historical au, viking au (attempted lmao), Yoongi x female reader

aaangst, female melancholia, sexism, Yoongi is an asshole (he gets better i promise), loss of girlhood :(

cw: writer trying to be funny and failing, typos probably

This chapter is just the intro, just to introduce you to the characters and to explain the motivation behind the main characters further behaviour.

word count: as always i have no idea

The air is thick in the reception room you’re standing in. Your father is looking at you with stern eyes. His face is rock hard as always and so is your mother’s. they had called you in here to talk to you and now you were awkwardly sitting in a chair while your parents tower over you. Everything involving your parents was always awkward. Their mere presence made temperatures drop five degrees, which was a spectacular skill to have in the icecold climate already you lived in. You think you know what this is about. You’re getting married off. Nineteen years under your parents’ roof is enough. You had been waiting for it with a rock in your stomach since your eighteenth birthday because they had married your older sister when she was that age. This was two years ago, and she was supposed to marry the crown prince of the kingdom but then your father and the king fell out over something you don’t bother to understand. Your sister married some other rich man of noble blood and moved away to a town in the middle of nowhere. You had barely seen her since. Your father had been the king’s right-hand man for years until two years ago. Now they were on less good terms, but your father was still an important adviser to the king. The prince had remained unmarried.

“you’re getting married Y/N”. Even though you had seen this coming from miles away the statement still stole the air from your lungs for a second. There was no arguing with your father, this had been taught to you a long time ago. Even if your father had been kinder there would have been no escaping this. A life without marriage was out of the question for a woman of your status. Besides you’d have to be pretty unlucky to end up with a husband who created an even colder environment than your parents. You had observed your mother for years and learned that the best way for a woman to find happiness was to just make the best of it. Quietly undergo the whole ordeal and if you’re subtle enough you can do whatever you want out of the public eye. If you play your husband just right, you could get him to do anything and more importantly get him to let you do what you want. If that wasn’t the case, there were enough tricks to keep him in the dark about whatever you said and did with your friends. “To whom?”, you asked and it felt like those words got stuck in your throat not allowing any air to pass. Who was to decide what the rest of your life would look like? If you were lucky, they’d marry you off to Jung Hoseok, he was the son of another noble adviser and he had been your friend for years. Although you wouldn’t be in love at least you knew you would be safe, which is more than most women could say. “Crown prince Min Yoongi”, your father replied curtly. You almost felt the need to straighten your back at the mention of the prince. He had a reputation for being cold and unkind but at least you had never heard anything about a tendency for violence. “How is that possible? I thought your relations with the king were strained”. “The last harvest in this province wasn’t good, the people are struggling and can barely pay what they owe us, as governor I have to make sure our people survive and the kind could help us, this marriage could be what we need to restore the relationship with the king”. This was typical for your family; everything was explained simply without drama or euphemisms. Not a single acknowledgment of what the impact of this marriage might have on you. They don’t care and you know you don’t have the right to care either. “The king has apparently been fearing a revolt from my side, so he agreed. You can go now”. That was it. This coldness towards you was all you had ever known but you never managed to shake the frog that appeared in your throat every time.

“I found a wife for you”. “You mean the maid that just served us dinner?” “This is no time for jokes Jungkook, your brother should have been married two years ago but because of her father’s stubbornness it took me two more years to find yoongi a bride”. “I guess you’ll be marrying the maid then Jungkook”, Yoongi says without as much as a smirk. “Nobody will be marrying any maids any time soon; this is serious”, the king barks. Yoongi finally looks at his father: “Who is she?” “The daughter of governor Leifsdottir”, “Are ya not quarreling anymore then?” “Stop speaking in that stupid accent Jungkook!”, the king barked again. That seemed to be the only thing he was truly good at. “You sound like an old farmer”, yoongi said and this time with a hint of a smile. “Mother thinks it’s funny”, Jungkook dramatically pouts. “The queen is not in her right mind, quit your fooling around!” dogs could learn something from our dear king. “The governor of Varberg and I have put aside our differences. Besides, we both could benefit from this union. It will keep him calm and in exchange I will help financially, his people are suffering”. “May I at least know her name before you throw me into this joyous union?” “Leifsdottir Y/N” “When are we to marry?” “In two weeks”. Yoongi simply nodded and got up. No point in arguing this, he knew that. Besides, he didn’t care who he would marry, he didn’t care about much anymore. Living with a father sucks the life out of a person. The king did it to Yoongi’s mother and he could feel he was doing it to him too.

On the day of the occasion, you wake up feeling rotten inside. The last two weeks you had spent filled with dread. You never asked to be queen, it involved being liked and that was not your forte. It was so much responsibility that had just been dropped on your shoulders. On top of that you weren’t ready to give up the relative freedom you enjoyed. After this day it would be marital duties and nothing else for you, and as future queen you wouldn’t even have a household to run to keep you occupied. You had met Yoongi once, when he was set to marry your sister. He had visited you here and you had talked to him briefly while your sister was getting ready. Since you had already had the opportunity to talk once your parents hadn’t found it necessary to make you meet a second time, convenient as always. Now you’re sitting on a bed in a room in the palace they appointed to you. You feel like you’re choking, all last night was spent crying and panicking. When you hear a knock on the door you straighten your back, over your dead body were you going to let anyone know how you’re feeling right now. If you were going to be made queen you’d do it well, you weren’t going to spend your first day as queen to be, crying. You’re not a coward.  “Good morning, madam, it’s time to get you ready”. They wash and dress you and your face doesn’t move a muscle. You don’t struggle, there’s no point.

Yoongi casts a look into the mirror as he gets into his formal attire, “Come in”, he says after hearing a knock on his door. “Ready to give the people what they want?”, Jungkook says as he saunters into the room. “Why do there need to be so many people?”, Yoongi exclaims as Jungkook flings himself onto his bed. “You’re the crown prince brother dearest, everyone wants to know who their future queen will be. They need to see if she’s pretty so they can know if they like her”. “Really, they don’t want to know if she has any interesting takes on how to run the kingdom?”, Yoongi asks sarcastically. “If yer gonna be king yer gonna have to get a better perspective of ye people”. “Jungkook stop impersonating your professor, it’s so bad nobody even gets who you’re trying to imitate”. “If this is any indicator of how you’re going to treat your wife maybe I should take her of your hands”, Jungkook laughs but is brutally interrupted by a pillow in his face. “All right mister grump, they sent me in here to tell you it’s time to get you married”.

According to custom you walk from the palace to the church in procession, and since Yoongi is the crown prince everyone is there to watch the procession. You walk beside your soon-to-be husband, when the procession started, you had tried to seek eye contact, but he didn’t attempt once to look you in the face. You might as well not have been there and so you didn’t try to make contact again. You feel naked in your wedding attire. You’re dressed to the nines but every eye in the city is on you, and you can feel it in your chest. Finally, after what seems like ages you arrive at the cathedral’s doors. The high priest is waiting for you with an unsettling smile on his face. He spreads his arms and welcomes you. You and Yoongi stand face to face while the priest starts rattling off what he has to say. You don’t hear any of it, you don’t make eye contact, instead choosing to look at the crown prince’s chest. He might be looking at your face but you wouldn’t know because you refuse to look at him at suffer the same rejection as before. Your father hands you a sword, the sword with your family crest. Yoongi is handed his family’s sword and when the priest gives the sign you exchange swords. In the process, your hands touch for a split second. His hands are warm which is surprising with the freezing cold blowing around you. After that there’s an oath which you mindlessly repeat, Yoongi does the same. The priest stops talking and before you know it the ceremony is over. You’re driven to the palace for a festive dinner and when you walk into the rowdy dining hall you finally wake up. The entire wedding had gone by in a haze, you had barely had a thought since this morning. It was like your brain had shut down in fear of the realisations you would have if you were conscious. When you sat in your chair next to Yoongi’s at a table looking out over the entire hall, the thoughts came flooding in. This was your life now, the quiet well-behaved wife of the king. No more walks on your own, from now on you would be shadowed by guards step you took outside the palace. No more playing with the animals your family owned, no more cooking or baking to calm your nerves. It wasn’t fitting for the queen to be in the kitchen. You would always love to go to the forest and just run or find herbs to use in the kitchen. That too would be over now. You were no longer a girl, you were a wife, you were a woman. The little freedom that girls have women have to say goodbye to. From now on you got to enjoy in the endless performance that is every woman’s life. You feel tears well up in your eyes. You clench your fists, no way would you let them see your weakness so soon, but it was too late. The tears were falling down your cheeks now and everybody could see. You feel Yoongi turn to you on your right. “Get yourself together”, he sneer whispers.

Now is the moment you’ve been most nervous for. Men think that woman don’t exactly know what happens on a wedding night until it happens to them, but they don’t know just how well women have managed to pass on information without them knowing. Behind closed doors and in hushed voices, most young girls are told everything they need to know. You know what’s coming and as rational as you are you know that Yoongi will not give you any love or warmth. You know he will come into your room, barely undress himself and only touch you when it’s absolutely needed. Still, you find yourself hoping that he will be kinder, that under his ice-cold exterior hides a man full of love. That this man would only reveal himself to you and that you would not need to be so alone for the rest of your life. The moment Yoongi enters the room and closes the door you know it’s idle hope. He doesn’t even look at you. “I will not touch you if you don’t want me to, nobody’s going to check”, it’s a kindness you’d never expected. People always acted like it was absolutely necessary to consummate the marriage the first night. You’d never known that the crown prince would go against tradition that easily. Besides, wasn’t producing an heir your only purpose here? “What am I here for then? I thought I was meant to give you an heir. “We have time, the rest of our lives even, besides I couldn’t touch you anyways”. Ah there was the real reason, you weren’t desirable enough, of course. “Well then I will just get to bed”, you said. At that Yoongi walked back to the door. With his hand already on the door handle he said: “don’t cry like that in public again, I don’t need all my subjects seeing that my wife hates me. It’s not good for my reputation. If you can’t control your emotions excuse yourself and deal with them somewhere private”. With that he slammed the door behind him. You were left in complete silence, sitting on the bed. How dare he. As if he wasn’t the one who dragged you from your home to marry him against your will. This is the moment you made a decision. You would never show any emotion in front of your husband. If he wanted stone cold, he could get stone cold. He didn’t deserve to see the vulnerable side of you and so he never would.

@lifeless-firefly @emerald-notes

#yoongi #namjoon #hoseok #jungkook #taehyung #seokjin #jimin #historical au #bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan #x reader #yoongi x reader

[afatallovesong]

Happy New Year you wonderful human! Pleeeease tell me you’re gracing us with more Calum goodness soon?! You’re my favourite writer. Loves

Ask and you shall receive... eventually! This has been a labour of love, I've been writing it on and off since November. Its one of my longest fics so far (I'm sorry) but I really think you'll like it! If there's any mistakes, mind ya business.

Happy birthday to the main man himself

At Your Convenience

A Calum Hood one shot

18+, Smut, NSFW

Word Count: 15,821

You’re fucking tired. It was actually starting to become painful just how tired you were. It hurt to keep your eyes open. It hurt to close them even for a second. They were so insanely dry from tiredness that they’d become sore. Each blink felt like repetitive razor sharp cuts. You’d have done just about anything for a cat nap instead of restocking the shelves. The sun glaring through the window as it started to set didn’t help. You were squinting and covering your line of sight as much as you could, but it still pierced through, targeting you especially, some evil vendetta against you. Its drying your corneas even faster, you really didn’t think it was possible. You manage a not-so-elegant yawn, barely covering the gaping black hole your mouth created. Only four more hours to go. Four more hours of this.

Its crisp and cold out. The early signs of winter were rolling into the city. The leaves were now lacking existence. Fallen branches scattering pavements, cracked under leather docs. Breaths were seen in the air as well as heard. Cheeks and noses were rosy with the bite of a harsh incoming wind. The sun was beginning to set just a little before 6pm. The darkness befalling the streets of California. Calum had often liked a walk at sunset. There was something oddly calming about it. Watching the world carry on as the day was meeting its end. It’s not that he’d even see much of the sun’s disappearance with all the buildings and lights and the busy billboards, but he’d known it was there. He’d known it was leaving him.

He liked walking home in the dark too. The city was so vastly different like that. The stores, the staff that changed over, the people you found wandering through. People were teaming and seemingly bustling with character, not all good, in some circumstances maybe even foul but certainly more outgoing than the daylight crowd. Some were tired and rushed off home from work. Often moving so fast he’d nearly been trampled down into the pavement twice. For the most part, the characters could only be described as friendly, interesting, and easy to watch going by. None could have captivated him quite as much as you though. He’d soon find that out. His friends and family would never describe him as particularly observant, this ought to prove them wrong.

He’d been across the street, a little over 10 feet away maybe when his eyes set upon your figure. It seemed as if the building encasing you hadn’t been there at all. Like you were just stood there on the street corner exposed to winter air as much as he was. The concrete cage above and around you, merely an afterthought. He’d spotted you with an impressively keen eye. He could pin point any detail about you from the style of your hair to the colour of each stripe on your shirt. He may even go as far as to say he’d memorised the order they appeared in. Light blue, dark blue, off white, and black, and repeat and repeat. You weren’t doing anything spectacular to catch his attention in the way that you did. He just knew that you had and now he was stuck watching you on a loop. Stood restocking shelves by the window, a couple of bags in each hand. Despite the averageness of it all, he’d felt the world stand still, calling him inside, calling him to you. The girl in the window.

He went completely unnoticed by you at first. He was thankful for that. You’d had a delivery that morning and spent most of the day painstakingly unboxing and replacing items running low around the store. You were at the last one, placing individual packets of chips on the shelf and the rack beside it. You decided to organise them into rainbow order, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. You had a little song about it, so you knew. You’d been foolish to assume you’d had the whole colour palette. You try to invent a flavour for indigo and violet to rectify that. You could send a strongly worded sales pitch to Lays. For now, though, you were stood atop a step ladder to reach the highest shelf. You weren’t exactly short, but the additional height did come in handy when you couldn’t find the energy to stretch higher than what was natural. Its only as the sun tucks itself away, do you finally brave peering out of the window again for some form of escape.

He catches your eye as you hover there, throwing the cardboard box, now empty, down on the ground behind you. In the space it took you to finish the task and turn back around, he’d crossed the street now looking at you from the corner. He hoped he didn’t look weird. He definitely looked weird. You don’t think much of the exchange at first. But as the seconds escalate you find yourself partaking in a little staring contest. You’d felt that burning sensation in your eyes again after a short while. Just as you go to blink it away, he’d gone. You half wondered if you’d hallucinated his appearance in the first place. Stranger things had happened after a long day after all. Whether real or not, you’d lost the contest. You knew that much. You took your loss and patted down your thighs in defeat. 

The door opened with a collection of high pitched tones from your butterfly wind chime above it. It’s just as alarming as it was when you’d first started working there. You thought you would have acclimatised by now but a mixture of tiredness and a slow moving day in store had you beat. So instead, you found yourself jumping out of your skin. You were lucky you didn’t fall. It might have been a more exciting day if you had. You may return to the idea if the day dragged out any longer.

You managed to get back on the ground safely. Your ladders were folded and slotted back against the window where you’d retrieved them from. Your cardboard box now back in your hands to flatten for the recycling bin out back. For now, you’d rest it near the ladders, but you may as well complete half the job while you’re at it to save you doing more than necessary later on. Judging by your exhaustion now, it would be the last thing on your agenda at 10pm. Plus you were never one to leave a customer unsupervised in store. You may have been tired, but you weren’t stupid. 

He stepped inside, warmth flooding around him, engulfing him in a large hug. It was a California summer amongst the shelves and aisles. At least that’s how pleasant it had felt. Now that he thought about it, that was a horrible way to describe somewhere that sold fresh food. It’d be a nightmare for food hygiene and longevity. He might have been a touch hasty in his earlier description. It was undeniably cosy though, that was a better fit for it. It was a pleasure to be shielded from the cold.

His eyes easily floated back to you now that he’d entered your space. That was probably just as creepy as it sounded. He didn’t have any sort of plan in mind for entering the store, he never usually did. He’d just made it inside and assumed that that would be enough but of course it wasn’t. It would never have satiated his need to meet you. But he couldn’t just stand in the doorway with his hands in his pockets watching you like some sort of weirdo. Which admittedly, was exactly what he was currently doing. Until he snapped out of it and shuffled himself down the next aisle. He had to approach you somehow though. He’d made it this far; he should follow through.

He could see you through the shelving. There were gaps between produce and items without height, quite similarly to bookshelves in a library. The more he looked the more he could make that comparison. Were these second hand shelves? The shop wasn’t as tiny as it looked from outside either. There were at least 5 short aisles which considering the location, was impressive. The old convenience store seemed no larger than a matchbox from out there. Now he’d stepped inside he’d argue it was more of a healthy apartment, or maybe a doctors waiting room. Yes, those really were the best locations he could think of.

He couldn’t help but notice how the light still caught you as he peered through the confectionary to the place where you stood. The light was illuminating your striped shirt and little blue waistcoat resting in coordination on top. It also bounced off the shiny, scribbled out name badge hooked into the left pocket. He wondered why you hadn’t gotten your name printed. Perhaps you were new here. He’d never seen you in here before. He’d like to think he’d remember you if he had. Not that he was the biggest or most loyal customer to ‘Convenience Corner,’ but he had made it inside once or twice before. It was mostly while drunk, just picking up extra supplies for a party or so but it was enough for him to know. No, he’s certain he’d not seen you before. He ought to find out your name before he forgets to.

“Can I help you?” He jumped at the sound of your voice. It was melodical and cheerful, sweeter than he’d expected. He’d not been prepared to feel even more intrigued by you so soon and in a situation like this no less. You’d caught him staring hadn’t you? He could never show his face in here again if you had. He’d have to leave immediately; God forbid pretend to buy something to make the interaction less awkward. That’s if that was even possible at this point. He wasn’t that sure that it was. His fight or flight had to kick in sooner or later. He looked up from the pack of pistachios his hands seemed to instinctively land on. “Sure, the freezer’s in the back.” He lifts his head to follow your voice with an eyebrow arched. He hadn’t asked for anything in the freezer section. You weren’t speaking to him at all. He’s not sure which was more embarrassing, the fact he was self-centred enough to believe he’d been caught or the fact he was now too aware that he hadn’t been. 

“Guess I’m buying the damn pistachios,” he muttered under his breath before grabbing one packet off the shelf, heading in the direction of check out. He was about to make it there too, before he changed his mind, turning back to grab another just to be safe. Surely it was weirder to buy one packet. Or was that just him? He made his way to the counter for good this time. It was adjacent to the entrance as one might expect, easy escape route if things went south. He hovered in place, occasionally stretching onto the tip of his toes and then back down again as he waited patiently for you or another employee to aid him. Though he hoped, deep down in his soul that it would be you.

During his wait he noticed the green chair behind the register. The chair clad in worn leather, looking about as old as the building itself, tucked away neatly. The next items he spotted were the locked cabinets with indication to liquor and tobacco from the warning labels and age restrictions printed on the doors. The little bronze bell atop the counter was next. Then it was the vintage green radio buzzing to the left of it, sputtering out some classical tune he’d never for the life of him be able to recognise. Then it was the cup of what he assumed was coffee, in a branded cardboard cup he also didn’t recognise.

The more he looked the more he found. The walls were patterned with blue and white vertical stripes. The floor shared the same colour scheme with checker tiles. Suddenly the blue uniform was making sense. The décor reminded him of the 80’s, bright, in your face and yet comforting and familiar. His favourite piece of décor in the whole store had to be the painted sign that read ‘please don’t fucking steal.’ He wondered if it worked much as a deterrent or if he was gullible. His second favourite was the collage of confiscated fake id’s with various graffiti vandalising the faces. He laughed at those harder than he thought he would. The Marlboro’s in rainbow order weren’t far behind.

It was cluttered and unorganised, certainly had an eclectic vibe, but he felt strangely at home in his surroundings. He’d liked that. He’d also liked that the price labels on everything were the same shade of green as the chair and radio, some kind of extreme case of colour coordination. Perhaps there was an ongoing discussion about replacing the walls and flooring. It seemed like the favoured shade in the establishment in its current state, was green. It would look pretty green. He really was dull today.

“Hey, sorry I took so long.” You had appeared behind the counter slightly out of breath, hair swept over one shoulder, slipping down your back in an untidy fashion. You were rubbing the back pockets of your blue jeans, looking from left to right and all around for something, he couldn’t quite fathom what. You’d moved so fast he barely registered your arrival there at all. Let alone be able to guess what you were doing there now. You’d startled him in the best way, rushing in to save him just as he feared he was losing grip on reality.

You’d smelt so sweet, next to the dust heavy, 80’s vibe of the shop floor. You had this fresh aroma of apples mixed with mint or something similar, and he liked it. He really liked it. He could have bottled that up. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you scrambled around. He watched you in awe like he’d never seen a retail worker before in his life. You’d seemed so colourful and lively against the drab old signs pinned behind you and it was absolutely mesmerising to him. What was a girl as bright as you doing in a place as drab as this?

Another customer entered with a gust of wind following shortly after. Trickling that breeze across the back of both your necks. Both your eyes floated over to the doorway and back simultaneously. A shiver had shot up his spine when your eyes had met his for the first time, well second actually. He quite enjoyed the feeling of your gaze on him. “Just those?” You asked sweetly. It took most of the energy you had left to lay it on thick for him.

You never enjoyed taking your tiredness out on customers. Not just because it was unprofessional but because you quite liked other humans. You liked them a lot. They were the sole reason you were employed, sure but you also just liked the experience of your fleeting moments with the rest of the human race. You didn’t need to know their life stories. You didn’t need to chit chat and ask about their day because it was simply polite to do so. Any conversation carried between you and the passers-by, the window shoppers, and the regulars, was a part of your day that you enjoyed and often craved. Somewhere, not so deep down, very clearly found instead, you hoped this new customer would allow you more than just a fleeting moment.

You eyed him with large, soft eyes. A genuine glimmer of happiness was lit within them. Despite the bags beneath them which made his heart ache for you, he thought you had the prettiest eyes he’d seen. So much so that it took him a while to return to you, remembering exactly where he was. Buying something. He watched you peering down to the items he’d handed over, fascinated by literally anything that you did as if it were his first day on earth. And for the love of God, how could someone so tired be so devastatingly beautiful?

“Uh, yeah, that’s it.” He really took over a minute to pause and then came out with that. Pathetic. He’d kick himself for his lack of conversational skills later. For now, he just glanced down to your name tag with curiosity but not enough guts to back it up. You caught him, addressing it immediately. It seemed you were paying just as much attention to him as he was to you. Funny he hadn’t noticed it, since he clearly saw everything else that you did.

“Printing error, would you believe it?” He shook his head, he’s not sure why. “You’d think I wouldn’t need one at all, owning the place.” He was quite impressed by that; he hadn’t shown it as well as he’d have liked to, but he was. He wouldn’t have guessed it. You started shuffling around, just like before. Your eyes dart beneath the counter, then above, to the side, even to the ground. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen some keys on a lanyard?” You eye him hopefully, anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip. Stay strong Calum. You rushed a hand through your hair as your panic set in. He had a feeling this wasn’t the first time you’d lost them.

Ever the hero, he glanced around to where you were stood before. He remembered your position exactly. He might have been a serial killer. He’d have to book himself a therapy session later that evening. These were early signs for sure. There kicked beneath the bottom shelf, a slither of silver caught his eye. Before you could clear the counter yourself, he’d already grabbed them, wrapping the sunflower printed material around his hand.

The smile you greeted him with was similar to that of a damsel who’d been delivered from distress. He knew he wasn’t worthy of such praise, but he so enjoyed the sight of it as it was presented to him. “Thank you.” You gestured a prayer as you said it, bringing the keys to your chest, your breasts squishing together significantly. He wished he hadn’t noticed that. “I swear that’s the 6th time I’ve done that.” You sink the key into the cash register, springing it to life, opening the drawer beneath it.

“Just today?” He dug at you, earning a blush, he felt blessed to have seen it let alone to be the one to cause it. “Well, that’s 2.75 then.” You said happily, hands flattening atop the wooden countertop as if you were smoothing out a piece of fabric. He hands money over the with a “keep the change” and a smile that flashed his perfect pearly whites. You placed the 5 he gave you in the cash register, eyeing him sceptically as did so. “See you around big spender.” His breath escaped him at the nickname, the possibility of seeing you again too. That was the most fun either of you had, had all day. 

-

“I should give you a job since you’re in here so often.” He doesn’t fight the smile that braces his face when he enters the place this time. “Then you’d have to finally tell me your name.” He knows he’s got you there. “On second thoughts, you’re my best customer and you’re so, so welcome here any time honestly.” You slam your magazine down on the counter for emphasis, resting your face in both your palms, elbows on the wood. “Oh yeah? Don’t get a lot of pistachio fiends?” He wanted to be embarrassed; he had no legs to stand on. He’d been coming in every Thursday for the past 5 weeks, buying a pack of pistachios each and every time. His car was just about overflowing with them at this point. The shells, bags, full pistachios he couldn’t quite toss and catch in his mouth in less than a minute. It was an addiction to most, you included. 

“What brings you in today?” You held your hand out to stop him answering you, only he never began to speak in the first place. He was proud to say he was used to you doing that. “Let me guess.” He flipped you off before responding light heartedly. “Maybe I’m just checking in to see how your name tag is coming along.” You thought for a moment before responding. “You know, it’s taking a whole lot longer than I thought, guess labels aren’t on trend right now.” The sarcasm was dripping. He nodded as he headed down the aisle, fighting heart palpitations as he went. He didn’t have to get the same thing. There was no reason to now. He wasn’t in a hurry. He wasn’t panicking only grabbing the first thing he found. Yet, he still grabbed a bag like clockwork as if it would ever be impressive to you.

“I never thought anyone liked pistachios.” He jumped about 3 feet as you appeared beside him. This was the closest you’d ever gotten to him. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You sniggered a laugh at his expense, thoroughly. “No, that’s not my name but it’s a good guess.” You patted him lightly on the shoulder. He felt like he’d been shocked by electricity. “As I was saying, scaredy cat, I thought it was just something adults lied about enjoying to seem more mature or something.” Every bone in his body had him wanting to agree with you. They tasted like dog shit, but he couldn’t resist them.

“Rude of you to give me another nickname without so much as a whiff to your own name.” He raises you. You didn’t think he had it in him. “Would it please you if I let you provide me with a nickname?” Its patronising as fuck but he’d already been glad to accept your offer regardless. “You sure you’re ready for that?” You shrugged it off, there was no way he’d think of one on the spot. He was so painfully awkward and flustered around you at all times, the tiny burst of wit he pushed out a few seconds ago was probably all he had left this week. You could let him do his worst with full confidence. Knowing he’d never conjure one good enough to knock you down.

“Stripe.” Your eyes widened to the point where he feared they might pop out of your skull. “Fucking Stripe?” You half yelled, repeating the word far too many times in disbelief. He was fully aware of how awful it was, really, he fucking knew. But your reaction made it all the more worth it. “I’ve never seen you in anything other than a stripey top and that blue fucking waistcoat, it was the best I could do.” If that was the best, you’d hate to see his worst. “I’m not mad, just disappointed.” You then rubbed his back so platonically he thought he might scream.

“But uh, they’re great yeah, yummy.” He shook his head at his own awkwardness. “Yeah, must be, you’re the only reason we replaced the stock you know.” You pointed at the tiny marking slammed on the shelf just below the item up for debate. An “out of stock” label was scrawled out messily in black marker. “Shit really?” There was that laugh again. He could record that and sell it as a cure for depression, it was the happiest sound he’d ever heard. You could cure all ailments with a laugh as cute and dorky as yours.

“Nope, but it did make you panic for a second huh?” You were facing him, arms behind your back, chest pushed out proudly as you smiled at your own mischievousness. You tended to do that a lot. You weren’t ever aware of the way your breasts pushed forwards like an offer he couldn’t refuse. But he had so hoped that he was right in assuming it was accidental. Although, if that was just how sexy you were even without trying, he could only melt at the thought of a real attempt. Pull yourself together man, you’re not 14, not every pair of tits has to destroy you. Even if yours were perfect. “Do I really come in here that much?” He's white knuckling his way through that question until you finally relax your shoulders, the tension also leaving his own.

“Yeah you do.” You said it with sympathy and a kindness as if that was the making of an intervention. “I could lie.” You offered. He thought about it. Then he thought about the way he could recognise every single note your wind charm had been able to make. The way he knew the floor creaked in the centre of every aisle but never the edges. How the lights only flickered above the freezer section and buzzed like a swarm of bees when they did. How there’s always an excess of toilet roll stacked the near the door because you’d accidentally ordered too much. How you’d tripped over it most days despite you being the only reason it was there. How you’d told him you’d done it only once, but he knew for a fact it was 5 times just in his presence because he laughed every single time. Yeah, he might come here a little too often.

“Would you please lie?” His face heated in several different shades of red, one after the other coordinating with your striped shirt of the day. A blush brown, red, and orange. You were yet to repeat an outfit. The horizontal stripe was the same, but the colour was not. That wasn’t really saying much in the grand scheme of things. He had only met you 5 times so far. But 5 different stripey tops was still arguably hard to come by. “You just really love your nuts.” You dragged out your s.’ He hit his head on the shelf before him with a thud. “That’s even worse.” He mumbles while continuing his downward trajectory into self-loathing. 

“Yeah, maybe you should go with your dignity still intact.” You nodded, brushing off laughter. “You’re right. Though I think that would require having any in the first place.” He made a lot of jokes at his own expense, more so than anyone else you’d ever met. You hoped he didn’t really feel like that about himself. “Yeah, no I was lying to make you feel better.” You nodded repeatedly. “Didn’t really try it before, now I did. I don’t really like it.” You shrugged. He smirked.

“So, same time tomorrow?” He did the same old thing with his feet, standing on his toes, slotting back down, his tell-tale sign that he was waiting for something. “Maybe.” He left it open for interpretation. You leaned in close, your face not far from his, like the counter had disappeared altogether. “Oh, a maybe huh, that’s how we’re playing this now?” You’re so close to him he can now identify the exact kind of mint you carried on your breath. It wasn’t peppermint like he’d assumed at first. It was spearmint. You were spearmint and spiced apple rolled into one. It should never have worked but on you, it was perfection. 

“Can’t bear to see me twice in one week Cal?” He thought he might combust as you shortened his name. It took every ounce of energy he had left not to melt at your feet. “I am getting too predictable, do need to keep it fresh. Can’t have you sitting there all day just expecting me to arrive.” He was proud of himself for keeping up. There may be hope for him yet. “Oh, but it’s such a crucial part of my existence.” Your hand slid across countertop, and he thought he imagined it even as his own lifted involuntarily, aiming to meet it.

“Very funny. So witty.” He was reduced to two word sentences and sarcasm, brilliant. “I know, I know, keep going, talk dirty to me.” You were definitely a dork; you both knew it. One of you found it endearing. Your hand touched his, he was almost certain it wasn’t an accident by now. His heart still didn’t believe him. “I will see you, eventually.” Your fingers pried his open, hands joining, fingers bumping knuckles, fumbling around in a beautiful whirl. He didn’t know when your relationship got to the point where you’d been able to touch like this. He also didn’t know what it meant. He just knew he enjoyed it, and you could touch him wherever you desired.

“Eventually?” You say it slowly, breathing it out to see if he’d like it. His eyes couldn’t avoid your glittery lip gloss any longer. It was all he’d thought about for the last 45 seconds since he’d noticed it. He wished he never noticed it. Now he can’t do anything but notice it. He also thought about the possibility of wearing it himself. Not because he wanted to go out and buy the same one but because he so desperate to feel your kiss, he wouldn’t mind the transfer. Those thoughts weren’t helping anyone.

“Mmhmm, sometime, somewhere.” Did his voice go up an octave? “Probably here.” You corrected him, thumb smoothing over his. “Definitely here.” He confirmed, he’d not taken a new breath since you’d touched him, and he might have started going purple because of it. “But sometime.” You poked with a smirk. “Exactly.” He said inching closer. As much as you liked it, you panicked. You released his hand in a flash and stepped back, legs knocking into the chair behind the counter. He’s gutted to lose your touch but chooses not to hold it against you. You must have had your reasons.

You pretended it didn’t make you want to yell out every curse word under the sun under the scrutiny of his stare. The way your chair dug into your calves was dire. You cut your flirtation short and hoped that masked it adequately enough. It didn’t. “Get out of my store.” You bossed him around with a smirk. He felt relieved by it. At least he hadn’t fucked anything up. You smiled away at him as he did as he was told. Holding it right until he’d disappeared, not only from the shop, but the view of the exterior too. You sank into your chair safely this time and let out a deep sigh. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

-

“I get off at 10.” You rush, bringing your hands back down to your sides. You didn’t smile, you didn’t wave, you didn’t breathe. You just blurted it out. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards but didn’t react more than that. “You do?” He isn’t really sure what to say, he never is. He wants to ask if you mean what he thinks you mean, and what he thinks you mean is that you’d like to see him when you finish. He’s not sure if he has the courage to do something about it. He still needed to work on communication, if you had taught him anything, it’s that his verbal skills were lacking.

“I get off at 10 and I think you should come hang out.” Your spare hand floated to your hip; you hoped it appeared as casual as you intended it to. But truth be told your grasp on it was nothing close to gentle. The silence growing between you was painful. “I’ll see you then.” He said, just as quietly, just as unsure.

“Fuck, you will?” You stepped in closer to him, absolutely relieved. He reached out to you; you’re attempting the same. “I uh, yeah.” This is the only time you’ve been tongue tied around him and you’re not enjoying a single second of it. “Now please leave before I have a meltdown over this.” He didn’t budge. He still wanted to touch you, hold your hand, your hip, your scissors that you were previously using to cut open packaging, anything he could. “Seriously oh my God.” You’re laughing but you need it, you wouldn’t think straight again until he left. “I’m gone, I’m going, I’ll see you at 10.” Fuck yeah you will.

-

“What can I help you with today?” You asked as softly as you always did. You leant right over the counter already cutting the distance. It was 10:02pm. There was no more wasting time. He started to lean in a little too. You wet your lip in anticipation. The way you often did when you saw him. Because you couldn’t keep it together for even a minute, needed that sensation across your lip to prevent you from finding another. Under the watchful gaze of those fucking browneyes, you’re helpless. “I actually panicked when you didn’t come in at 6 today.” Distracting yourself with conversation was something you’d always done; may it help you now.

“I didn’t think you’d miss me too much.” He was happy you did. He was selfishly ecstatic if he was being completely honest. “Well, I did.” He nodded at the information, letting it sink in. He also let it go straight to his head. It wasn’t his fault. When a girl like you says she misses you, you’re living the fucking dream as far as he was concerned. He leaned in, elbows nudging yours on the counter, a parallel to a couple of weeks back when you’d held hands in the very same spot for the first time.

It felt much more natural this time. Hands gravitating towards each other without a care in the world. Nothing but the brushing of fingertips against knuckles and blushes being hidden with large smiles. You supposed without the worry of any other customers entering the store, you could finally relax into this. You weren’t being unprofessional by seeing to your urges. It felt so incredibly good. You’d like it like this more often. Probably not in this exact location. You think you’d seen enough of the inside of this place for a lifetime.

“I can tell you what I’m not here for.” You nodded along intrigued. “Fucking pistachios.” You snorted a pretty hearty laugh. “I knew you didn’t like them.” You raised your voice accusingly. He was shaking his head in disagreement but the way he laughed wasn’t fooling you. “No one likes them that much I don’t care who you are.” You’re determined to receive his admittance. He’s gone beet red in the face, willing to pull his beanie down over it to save him further humiliation. That should have been enough for you, it wasn’t. You had to hear it.

He’s shaking your hands in his to grab your attention back and your heart is just bursting at the action. You wouldn’t mind holding his hands all day. “No, I do like them, I do, stop shaking your head, I do. Just yeah, not that much, I don’t know what I was doing.” He’s looking at your hands as a source of comfort, fiddling with them while he reflected on his past decisions regretfully. “Think I just really wanted to impress you, clearly did that. Shows I’m committed though right?” He lets one of your hands slip free. You lift it into the air and draw an invisible tick. “Oh yeah, honestly there’s nothing sexier than getting 2.75 from a hot stranger every week, ticking that right off my bucket list. And yes I like your level of commitment, I will consider it heavily in your application.”

His brows arch. “Hot stranger huh?” You’re not surprised he’d only listened to the part with the compliment; you’d be the same. “You’re kind of hot I guess.” It was your turn to blush, coyly looking anywhere but at him as if you’d save yourself that way. It didn’t stop him looking at you like you thought it might. He was still peering down at you, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks, your hair falling down into your face like curtains ready to close on him. He didn’t want to be closed out. He needed more access in fact. He just needed to be subtle about it as not to spook you, or him for that matter.

He was careful when he pulled his left hand from yours. It was so cautious and polite you didn’t even miss it when it was gone. He just reached forward, touching you elsewhere. Tucking his thumb beneath your chin, lifting your face so you’re back looking at him. He could look at you for hours. You’re like a piece of art that had come alive, and he needed to appreciate you for that. He was equally as pretty, his eyes big and beautiful, with a softness you wanted surrounding in. You wouldn’t ever get used to a stare like his.

You combed some of your hair behind your ears to give him a better look at you. You’re not sure why but you felt it was important for him to see you like this. With more vulnerability. He may have seen you every week, but your time was so fleeting. You’d been working a million miles a minute. Your head was often fuzzy. Not to mention your hair was a constant tangled mess. You rarely wore makeup either, sweat too much stocking shelves which you did pretty much every single Thursday, his day. It was absolutely crucial to you now, for him to see you and really seeyou.

Not you that wore the uniform. Not you that lived and breathed this shop or this job. Not you that made witty remarks about other customers because that was your only form of entertainment during a shift. You needed him to see you in a way that he couldn’t associate you with this place. You wanted him to like you separately. You had other interests. You had other clothes. You had a whole other personality. If you let him look at you like this, perhaps he just might find it.

“I might be wrong.” His voice had gone unintentionally gravely allowing his accent to shine through. “But I think you might like to kiss me.” He says it barely above a whisper, but you heard it in the deepest parts of you. You tried your best to remain composed as he’d read your mind exactly. All these weeks of flirting with no result, building and building tension with no real end game in sight. But now, finally, there was opportunity. “It’ll cost ya.” You whispered. He grinned back down at you affectionately; he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I’ll tip you generously” he goes to say more but you’d already shot forward. Everything he could possibly have said was now well and truly out of the window, gone and completely forgotten. You had erased his mind and it felt wonderful.

“You’ve been on my mind for fucking weeks you know that.” He’s taken aback, from the kiss, your hand clutching his, your confession. He was flattered to say the least. “I watch the damn clock every day, even though I know you only come in on Thursdays.” You retreated your hands away from him and he’d have been offended by it if he weren’t still pining for your lips back on his. He could settle for hearing your truth first. He was a patient man when it came to you. “Why do you only come in on Thursdays?” He wonders if you were actually asking or not and then he realises it’s just a stepping stone in your monologue, so he kept it zipped and watched you with a bemused smile.

“I was scared, did I tell you I was scared? Thought I’d never see you again Calum, I mean fuck I was about to mark down pistachios to 1 cent if it would bring you back in here, what the fuck were you playing at?” He’d say he was shocked at the way you’d overreacted, but he’d been wracking his brain just as heavily. The entire day, he watched the time flying by, his leg tapping, his riffs never sounding right, his vocals never hitting the right note, his lyrics not carrying into verses with fluidity and synchronicity, every second he spent away from this God damn store was an additional second of insanity he couldn’t bear. 

“Promise I’ll never ditch you again.” You tugged him in close. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Calum.” You breathed out grabbing hold of the collar on his fleece. “I would never do such a thing.” He tipped his head down at you, thumbs reaching out to stroke adoringly over your cheeks, your aggression dissolved as quickly as it came. “Shit, kissing you is like, I can’t even think of a word for it.” 

“That’s awfully romantic, wow Calum.” You said between kisses. “Shut up.” He bit back. “Trying to but you keep pulling your lips away.” You’re mumbling into his mouth. “Feels weird kissing here, like some other customer is gonna pop outta nowhere.” You rolled your eyes at the mention of it, biggest turn off of the century. “Would you like me to put the shutters down so you can feel safer hmm?” He smirked down at you. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Swoon.

His hands squeezed where he now held your hips fondly. His eyes were shining, even in the dim light. His brows were furrowed with concern, you couldn’t be sure what for. There were so many things either of you could have been thinking at that moment. You were checking his deep eyes for signs of distress or regret, a hint of regret would certainly destroy you now you’d gotten to this stage, but you’d still wished to know if he was okay with all of this. “Are you okay?” You weren’t sure why you said it so quietly. If anyone were to break from a loud and startling voice, it would have been you more so than him. 

He nodded his head into the palm of your hand. You’re heart fluttered but you still wondered. “Promise me?” He nodded again but it wasn’t enough truth for you. “Need to hear it.” You nudged. “I’m more than fine.” It sounded calmer than either of you had expected. You were eyeing him with your lips tucked neatly between your teeth and he swore he’d lay down his life to feel you do that to him instead. “Gonna kiss you now.” You said it as if it was the first ever time. It was at least the third, maybe fourth or fifth but felt just as fresh. Somehow more important than the others. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It was planned and it was delicate, and it had mattered.

He leaned into your mouth; plush lips gently caressed yours. You knew he was more eager than he let on, felt it in the way he clutched at your belt loops like he himself was the one to hold up your jeans instead. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” You muttered through fluttered lashes. “Wanna treat you like you deserve.” You didn’t expect such a response, never being taken care of before. You were glad to receive it. “Kiss me sweetly later, I want the good stuff.” His lips didn’t miss the opportunity to send a smirk your way before he swooped in, arms wrapping around your middle, lips plummeting down onto yours. A moan teared from your throat sending his stomach churning and flipping with delight. 

It’s a tender kiss still, even if he weighed down heavy on your lips. His cushiony mouth took the fall. Your arms were thrown messily around his shoulders, finding a home there, your fingers combing the hair at the base of his neck. He gave you his tongue, offering it like a gift. He wrapped it in your lips, sliding between them, teasing your own tongue with it. There it is, your signature scent, apple and mint, a taste so distinctively yours. He tasted of tobacco and coca cola, and you hadn’t a single complaint about it. You’d happily keep that recipe locked in your mind to associate him with forever. He retracted his lips and you found yourself chasing him, rising onto the tips of your toes, nearly toppling the both of you over in the process. He grinned wide from ear to ear, and you just stood there with your eyes big, gawping at him like a goldfish.

“You might be the sweetest thing I ever tasted.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, caressing your heated cheek with a precise and carefully crafted technique. “Can’t really trust your tastebuds though.” He would never live down them pistachios. “I’m gonna make you forget all about that.” You knew he wasn’t really embarrassed about it, but if he really wanted to offer a mind altering experience, you wouldn’t dare decline. “Is that right?”

“There’s only one room in this entire building without security cameras you know.” It’s far too detailed to be a hint but you hope he took it like that anyway. “What would we need that for?” He pecked you over and over, your body squirmed in is grip. “I think you know what.” He did, he loved idea of it too, it was unique and adventurous and sure maybe there wasn’t much risk of getting caught but that didn’t make the location any less scandalous and out of the ordinary. Calum needed you somewhere private around yesterday. “Care to enlighten me?” He saw the cogs turning and ticking away in your pretty little head. He had a rough idea of where you’d take him, but it didn’t make it any less fun to ask. He needed to hear you say it. 

“How sexy is the idea of making out in the stockroom?” You just came out and said it. “How sturdy are the shelves?” You shoved him. “Shut up.” He snickered. “Keep that up and you’ll be banned for life Mr.” He leaned down to kiss that thought from your mind. “You know I can’t survive without this place, it’s just so- “ he paused purposefully, he knew exactly the words he needed but chose not to speak them, “convenient?” you finished for him, to which he nodded along happily. “Convenience corner where all your needs are at your convenience.” You cheerfully recited your slogan, it was adorable to him, nostalgic and cringey to you.

“What else in here is at my convenience?” He pushed the boat out a little. “What would you like?” You played along too, enjoying the way his blush didn’t end with his cheeks but fell down towards his neck as well. “To speak to the manager of this establishment.” You wanted to roll your eyes so badly, but he was just too charming to ridicule. “Think she’s a little busy right now, you’ll have to come back later.” You pulled him back down to kiss you and he relaxed into you within an instant. “Mm, I’d like to ask her something.” He kissed you again. “Oh yeah?” He took a little bit longer to respond that time, your tongue sinking into his mouth, making it pretty difficult for him. “Want her to check something in the back for you?” You encouraged. He nodded down at you eagerly. “Right this way sir.”

You grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, tugging his body close to you. He’s about to trip and fall right into your arms for the remainder of the evening but you had other plans. You were leading him elsewhere. In reality, you hadn’t even needed to touch him, he was like a lost puppy in unfamiliar surroundings, only latching onto the one figure he knew, he’d have followed you anywhere. He was whipped. He stumbled along in your path, you may have been short, but you were awfully fast. His vans scuffed across the tiles, squeaking as he walked. It was a step up from his docs but just as irritating. If you weren’t so set on becoming a cliché snogging in the back room, you’d curse him for it. Nevertheless, you lead him to the door just right of the freezer section, you weaved through a sharp right hand turn and kicked open the stockroom door. He wasn’t sure what to expect from it. He’d never really had the need for a job anywhere like this. He didn’t know the ins and outs of what a stockroom could provide. The answer being not a fat lot.

There’s towers of shelves in 3 aisles. Boxes both filled and emptied are spaced out throughout the room. Its colder back here than it was in the main section of the store. It made sense when storing products and trying to preserve them, but it was awfully uninviting. “So, this is kinda the break room too.” You let out. He felt nothing but sympathy for you. There was barely enough room for the 2 of you, let alone any other employees coming and going. He followed you through the aisles toward the back door. Hanging above was the inevitable gleaming green exit sign that glowed more than it should have, casting a faint green light over that portion of the room. His eyes then followed you, stepping on without him, gesturing to a green leather couch he was surprised he hadn’t clocked yet.

“You want a beer or something?” You awkwardly fiddle with a stray, loose strand on your jeans. He shook his head slowly, stepping closer to you. Your legs were already open to straddle the arm of the couch making it easy for him to find himself between them, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You let your arms encase his waist, pushing you face into the fleece he was adorning. Your hair smelt so nice he had to force himself not to take a deep inhale of its fragrance. It wasn’t the weirdest thought that had ever occurred to him in your presence but that just made it worse.

“You’re like a fuckin siren or something.” He blurted out. He expected the way you pulled back, biting your tongue as an attempt not to snigger at him for his comment. “You know what I mean.” He barely defended himself. He started to talk with his hands, and you huffed at the lack of his touch while he did it. “You drag me in here every week. You’re always on my mind. I literally don’t even know your name yet I’m falling over myself trying to be here. I’m back in here like clockwork.” You really ought to tell him, put him out of his misery once and for all. 

“It’s Y/n.” You said gently. You should have said more after he’d rambled on like that, but you were struggling on what you could say. You were far worse for expressing your feelings than he was and that was a great feat. “Y/n.” He repeated it a few times, testing it out, deciding he quite liked the sound of it in his mouth. “Yup, not a siren, just Y/n.” You giggled, like a schoolgirl you actually giggled. “Really stepping up our relationship here Cal, what’s next you want my last name too?”

He was already letting his hands cup your chin, deciding he’d been lacking your intoxicating lips for far too long. “I have a couple of ideas in mind stripe.” Before you could protest the foul nickname his lips were back against yours. They slot against your own so neatly you’d argue they were a piece to your puzzle, finally settling into place. You moaned against the tongue swiping across your bottom lip and his knees nearly buckled under the heat of it. “When you moan like that pretty girl,” he can only pull back for a second or two, “makes me weak.” You’re pushing him back; he stumbled about as gracefully as you could imagine in a moment like that, little to 0%. “I like you weak.” You toy with him, stepping towards him, sparking him to back his way up against a shelf. 

The wood creaked under the force of him. It dug deep into his spine, but you hadn’t given him a moment to complain before you tangled yourselves together again. “I think your nicknames are getting better.” You praised, looking up at him through your long, curled lashes. The sight had him thinking sinfully. You also took the time to admire him. His curls were messy, framing his face in every which way beneath the pressure of his woolly hat. You needed to see his hair without that god damn beanie on or you might explode. You tugged it off him slowly, grateful he didn’t object. He only squinted at you now that he was aware of just how wild his curls had actually become. They’d sprung out in every direction, you weren’t prepared for the volume, not that you’d even minded. “Fuck.” You sighed. He wished he knew what the context was behind that hot little expression of yours. “I love your hair.” Your eyes were so focused on it as you tangled your fingers briefly, catching a couple of curls accidentally. He let out a puff of air as you caught him like that. “Shit, sorry, couldn’t resist.” He shook the comment away, he knew he was in for it with you. 

“So, you’ve lured me back here, now what will you do?” You felt his eyes watching you expectantly, you tried to remain as calm as you could in responding but his gaze burning into you had you tripping over every word before they even threatened to come out. “Have my filthy way with you.” You were dripping with a false confidence; one you hoped he didn’t catch onto. He didn’t. He was heavily convinced you were the filthy minx he’d been dreaming about none stop since he first saw you across the road. Might as well live up to those expectations somehow.

His hands were no longer soft and sweet, barely caressing your frame. His fingers were digging into the flesh of your hips, scooting your body forward till you lined up just right with him, just enough to make him pant with those peachy plush lips. Your own fingertips were buried in the curls at the nape of his neck, and he urged you to tug them in his mind. The guttural moan that escaped him when you finally did it, had you dying to hear it again and again. “Jeez take me to dinner first.” You managed before he’s tucking your bottom lip between his own teeth. “I think you owe me more than one.” You continued in a sudden array of nerves he wasn’t quite used to you having. “Do you ever run out of things to say?” That was his polite and desperate way of asking you to shut the fuck up. You might have done it too. 

His hand slipped dangerously onto your throat, light pressure building when he introduced you to the idea of his hand sitting there, capturing you. “I could, but I’d rather not.” He had to smile proudly when you pouted up at him, nails digging into his shoulders when he blocked your airways, little gasps the only sound running from your delicious, fuchsia stained mouth. He leaned in close to your ear, lips brushing the lobe, your eyes were sent rolling back. He’d found one of your weaknesses and you’d only just begun. “Think you should try and stay quiet for a little while.” As much as you loathed being the quiet, obedient woman, if he asked you to jump off a bridge, you were certain you’d do it. 

His fingertips pulled back and you surged forwards, lips crashing into his own. You whined a breathless moan into his lips, and he still wasn’t happy with the amount of fuss you were making for him but if you rocked into him the way that you were for much longer, he’d be the one struggling with the silence. As if you were reading his mind, always one step ahead of the game. You were tugging at the green, oversized fleece you’d hoped he’d worn for you. 

It hurt to be away from his lips even if it were to rid himself of the many layers that concealed him away from you. “Come on now stripe, wanna see what’s under them.” You wanted to send a snarky comment his way, but you were so breathless at the vision of him stood there without a shirt on and in your fucking stock room no less. “Fucking hell.” Your hands were forgetting every instruction he’d given you. You had a childlike curiosity that needed fulfilment, you’d always wandered about his tattoos. Sometimes for days at a time. Not always at the most convenient of times either, you just couldn’t help yourself. When they graced the back of his hands like that it was only natural to consider how they’d look in situations like- well situations like this one.

“I’ll give you a tattoo tour later.” His forehead was fitted against yours, fingers combing through your hair as his lips ghosted over yours. You closed the gap momentarily, enjoying him before his other hand flushed across your stomach beneath your shirt. Your stomach flipped at the contact. His hands edged over the pudgy skin that was a source of anxiety for you, it always had been. You’d wondered how much he’d actually like you underneath those stripes. “Can I get this off you?” He was trying to connect with you, sensing your hesitation. “You don’t have to.” He promised. “Just really want to see you.” You appreciated his honesty and his kind encouragement. You lifted your top yourself, grateful you couldn’t see his face when it was pulled over your head revealing your upper half to him. The strong urge to suck in a breath hit you like a freight train.

He nearly growled at the sight of your breasts spilling over the cups of your bra. He’d always agreed with women when they said they hated the claustrophobic item of clothing. But seeing your boobs bunched up like that, toppling out of them, he thought he might like bras for the first time in his life. You avoided his gaze. Even going as far as to closing your eyes to avoid the scrutiny. It doesn’t come. His lips were on you so fast, he doesn’t even bother unclipping the thing. He yanked down the cups, bending down at the knees, stuffing your nipples into his mouth like a starved man. You choked out a cry when his teeth tugged at the hardening skin of your nipple. His hips bucked helplessly into yours while he continued his assault. Any fear you’d had was now out of sight and out of mind because the boy before you didn’t care if you were fat or thin, you were his pretty, witty, annoying girl and he wanted to love on every part of you that you’d let him get near which was honestly, all of you. 

“Jesus Calum, leave some for the rest of us.” His eyes opened, blinking a couple times as he pulled away, a trail of spit formed between you, connecting his lips to your breast. His cheeks flushed crimson, lips about the same shade, pupils blown out entirely. He was love drunk and as dazed as ever. He caught your eye like the very first time, an accidental staring contest forming from a glance he just could not stop taking. You’d been more than willing to participate this time around. 

“Best tits I’ve ever fucking tasted.” You stroked under his chin; he leaned into your palm as you offered him the much appreciated affection. “Anyone would think they’re the first.” Had he really gone that nuts? (Pardon the pun). “Weeks’ worth of pining make you go a little crazy?” He furrowed his brows at the mock hidden poorly in your question. “Wait, wait, wait, you knew?” He was dumfounded. “That you were buying pistachios left right and centre to keep coming back in here?” He nodded along like he was amazed you’d caught on. As if he had even a shred of subtlety. “Doesn’t take much genius.” You tapped your temple symbolically. “So, this whole time you let me buy you out of stock, and didn’t say a damn thing?” You gave him your brightest smile. “You’re so cute when you think you’re undetectable.” Your finger prodded his cheek and he huffed against it. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to pound me in the break room or anything, but I caught onto the crush pretty early on.” He was truly mortified. He may have gotten the girl, even had you whining for him tonight, but his pride was certainly damaged. “And you-“ he asked before he wondered if he even wanted to know the answer. “Was hooked day 4 when you tripped on your way in.” He leaned back, eyes closing, hands coming to cover his face, sadly leaving your body. You’re giggling before him, and it feels incredible to witness the joy of hearing it, but his embarrassment was a much stronger sensation. 

“It was very cute how you then proceeded to shuffle every step just in case you did it again, even if your damn docs left track marks across my floors.” He was sheepish about that part; he’d find a way to apologise for it at some stage. He’d clean it with a toothbrush if he had to. “This might be super unprofessional of me,” you said as if your entire relationship thus far had been anywhere near adhering to your code of conduct working here. “But the part apart pounding the in the breakroom-“ he was already cutting you off “yes fucking please.” His lips were on yours like they’d never left. Arms wrapped round you so tight you could scarcely breathe. Hadn’t even wanted to. 

“You know, I was hoping you weren’t all talk,” he beamed with pride, taking in the sight of your bite swollen lips and chest heaving with ragged breaths, his trail of saliva still glistening across your breasts. He placed a hand on either side of your hips, his head dropped to mouth hungrily at your neck while he’d fastened you in place, a sort of retaliation for your comment just before. Sure, you could talk but he could take action. He could mark a sweet and tender bruise into your collarbone to prove just how much he could back up those words.

“Been wanting to mark you up since we met,” he sighed deeply into the hollow of your throat, you can feel the air leaving your lungs, “what if I’d been wanting that just as bad?” You responded, he didn’t even mind that you did, he may not have been able to shut you up completely but the hint of whining and tiny noises just beneath each word was certainly a victory for him. He had been the only cause. “Oh yeah?” His words vibrates as he dragged his lips across your neck. “What else have you been wanting pretty girl?”

You leave him with nothing for a few seconds. Just weighing up the options in your head. There wasn’t much that you didn’t want him to do. You’d allow just about anything at this point. The lack of an answer was slowly destroying him. He could go ahead and try something he’d wanted but for him, sex wasn’t about that. He needed to tend to your needs. He needed to make you feel good. “Come on baby, don’t hold out on me now.” It’s impatient and desperate and it had you gripping onto him for dear life, a very clear image flashed into your mind of just what you’d wanted from him.

“Your fingers. I need your fingers.” He was already letting his hands slip down your bare tummy before sentence could dare meet its end. Just as quickly as those fingers began drifting, he was retreating. Hands fluttering in the opposite direction, much to your dismay. You barely pout before he’s focusing his gaze on you. He has half the mind to scold your battiness but he’s just so keen to give you what you need, he couldn’t deprive you, not when you looked so sweet. “Do me a favour real quick pretty girl,” you needed a second to recover from the pet name, “suck my finger real slow for me.” You needed several hundred to recover from that. “That’s it, good girl.” It’s extremely condescending and under any other circumstances, you’d be sure to give him a piece of your mind, but this wasn’t a casual scenario. The roles were well and truly reversed and you were throbbing from the realisation that he just might be as fucked up as you were in the bedroom. 

“Never been this quiet for me.” You hum sweetly around the second finger he’s pushing into your mouth. You do as you’re told initially, just sucking the digits plainly. Its only when you notice the jagged breaths he’s taking while watching you, that you decide to show off. Just sweet little licks, swirling your tongue around the tips of his rough fingers, admiring the salty taste of his skin across your tongue. When you take him to the knuckle you know he’s fighting all the restraint he has not to ram his fingers right down your throat. “I wish that was my dick so fucking bad.”

Although you don’t expect the blunt and brazen confession, you’re not at all alarmed at the content of it. You knew the tricks to captivate your audience. It was no secret that the two of you would never be anywhere close to each other’s first time but that hadn’t taken any of the excitement and uncertainty away that kept the air heavy with tension. You could never have anticipated just how successful your performance would be with him. “Gotta give me my fingers back now.” 

He makes no effort to retract them from the vice grip of your lips despite the contrasting command and his genuine eagerness to hurry this along. “Come on.” He’s grunting, tapping his feet with urgency. You released them with a wet pop that near echoes throughout the room. He’s sliding his now glistening fingers, back down between you both. He’d not noticed, too distracted by your tongue no doubt, you’d already made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and pushing them down along with your underwear. All he had to do was slip a finger or two daringly over your pussy. A slow stroke through the soft, sweet heaven. It was so inviting, so pretty. He’d not needed to see it at all to know it was perfect. Not in the sense that it was the most attractive or most neat in terms of aesthetic but simply because it was yours, and he wouldn’t dare dream of a better haven than the little mountain peak between the valley of your thighs. 

You both let out a rushed sigh. He captured your lips as they invite him to meet. His fingers are met with a soft, supple, soaking welcome. “Baby.” He was about to lose his mind over the sweet wave of wetness that washed over the digits of his fingers as he barely pushes inside. “You’re so fucking wet.” He’s thanking and begging whatever deity above for more of the pleasure of your touch and the ability to make you feel as sticky and sweet as you do across his fingertips. He’d done something very right and wonderful to deserve you in this state and he couldn’t fathom what on earth it may have been, but he’d be sure to repeat it once he did. 

All for him, this was all for him. Oh, if only he knew. All his, you were never for anyone else. From the second he walked into your life you were his. He was hoping that too. You thought your eyes were telling him too much, showing him too easily the depths of your affection but they weren’t even close to letting that secret out. He had no idea how you’d wanted him until this moment. This wasn’t even the first occasion you’d been damp at the idea of him. This was just the only situation in which you’d actually be able to do something about it without carrying a backbreaking amount of guilt. He must know this is how it’s been for you.

His fingers don’t dive into you like you may have needed them too, and you did, really. They simply explored you. They were slow to enter but were keen to twist and turn and stretch. He was learning the gateway to your paradise. He was finding the secrets you had hidden. “Fuck.” You were sighing so sweetly for him at each given breath, he might just have figured you out. “Oh, that’s it.” His smile was hard to miss, hard not to mirror too. “Yeah.” You try with all your might to compose yourself, not fall to pieces from the brush of his thumb to your clit while his fingers flickered a beat to the soft and sweet space inside of you. “God yeah that’s it.” You rolled your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d barely twitched his wrist to aid you, hadn’t needed to. It was far too hypnotising to watch you take it for yourself. “So, fucking pretty baby.” He’s watching with a childlike curiosity, eyes wide, lips parted, brow’s quirking upward with inquisitiveness. “Finally shut you up.” He couldn’t resist the dig. You don’t resist the harsh shove you give his chest. Sending him backwards but never letting his fingers escape you. No, you needed to be filled, you would be filled. 

“Gonna get all bratty on me now?” You opened your eyes, a panic washed through them, and he spotted it because he’s not taken his own eyes away from your face from the moment he tucked his fingers inside your damp little pussy. “Not gonna punish you, don’t worry.” You weren’t really worried. It was more of a muscle memory. It was an instinctive reaction to the response you were used to receiving. Even if you hadn’t gotten anything it was nice to know it might have been something he was into, once again checking off an invisible tick list of activities you might enjoy together if you ever did this again and God you hoped you would do this again.

He stroked your hair then, the side of your cheek just after. Your eyes hadn’t opened for the last few minutes, maybe even longer. So difficult to keep them anywhere near open when he’s plunging his fingers inside you like that. It’s not precise, it’s not clean. You wouldn’t say it was particularly clumsy, but it was far from perfect, and yet, you had so enjoyed it. He filled you in a way that there was room for improvement but not enough to avoid the urge to clamp down on his fingers when he’d curled them inside you. He certainly had a handle on that little trick. “Shh, you’re getting so loud sweetheart.” His grin wasn’t seen but it was certainly heard. “Gonna keep it down for me?” You knew he wanted to hear you, couldn’t want anything more actually but the prospect of teasing you and having one over on you where he usually couldn’t, well that was far more tempting to toy with. You knew damn well no one was close enough to hear a peep from either of you even if you screamed and honestly, you just might have.

“Fuck Calum,” he picked up his pace, his lips ghosted over your neck as he reached a new depth inside you. Your pussy clenched on his fingers. Your own nails scraped into his shoulders, biting into his skin, slipping a hiss through his teeth. “Come on baby.” Your eyes fluttered open to catch the look of concentration on his face, his eyes met yours with a twinkle of knowing. He can feel that you’re about to cum. He just knew it. Without your confirmation he knew. Your eyes rolled back, your head too, dropping far enough that your hair dripped down your back like water. He caught the back of your neck to support you. As if he’d really thought of everything. Knew to rescue you from that deep dull ache you might have gotten if he hadn’t bothered. “You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” His words had you squeezing him again, so hard he felt his pulse throbbing in his fingers, as well as your own beating deep in your cunt. “Come on sweetie don’t you wanna cum for me, know I’ve thought of little else.” It was like he’d been reborn the second you moaned his name. He was a different person here, he was remarkable. There was a burning passion within him that you’d only hoped he might have but seeing it in practice, confirming your fantasy of how good it could be, God that was enough. You were coming undone.

“So fucking pretty when you cum, you know that?” His fingers left you. You protested with a whimper and the rutting of desperate hips, but it was too late, his fingers were sinking between his lips. You were eyeing him like a tiger watching its prey as he tasted you, devouring your cum slicking his fingers. The noise of satisfaction and crude slurping is pornographic, and you simply can’t bear to be without his touch any longer. If he didn’t bury his stupid cock inside you, you’d never shut up ever again so long as you shall live. You’d make his every visit here his personal hell until he gave in and gave you what you needed. “You taste fucking delicious.” That tiny restraint you’d mustered in the past five seconds. Instantly disposed of. 

Your hands flew to the zipper of his jeans, slinking inside them, hands coming down to grope the bulge concealed by his underwear. His lips parted as you kissed him, curiously gathering your own taste wrapped around his tongue. His back slammed roughly against the shelf and his only retaliation was to bite down hard on your bottom lip, fingers pulling on your hair to make you back up and add some space between you. “Jesus Calum, I know you want me to shut my mouth but biting off my bottom lip won’t do it.” He was apologetic in his mind but only in his mind. “Couch.” Is all he said. You shook your head. “No?” He took a daring step towards you unhappy with your defiance. Just as he’d tamed you, you go and act out again. It would never be enough, you only needed more. You shook your head, holding a breath as he looked around the room for other possible locations. He was sure he’d fuck you on the floor if it came to it. He hoped it wouldn’t come to it. 

“I’ve never fucked standing up.” Is what you offered him, shoulders shrugging as you come out with it. He’s amused for sure. Not exactly the way he’d imagined his first time with you going but then again, he also didn’t imagine it being in the break room or this shop at all really. “Okay.” His calming smile settled the tension in the pits of your stomach. “Okay?” You asked him quietly. At first he thought you were just mimicking him in efforts to gain control but then he heard the way it wavered and pitched higher at the end. He broke his tough act and cupped your face in his hands. He adored the way you looked back at him, not a rain cloud or single storm in your sky. “Gonna need you to turn around for me.” He made no effort to let you move just yet, awaiting your willingness to comply before he set you free. He kissed you briefly before you did as he wanted without question, turning 180 degrees to face the shelves pressed to the wall. 

He took both of your wrists from behind. You allowed his grip to guide you, first assuming he’d be crossing them behind your back, a flurry of excitement tingling within you. But instead, you found he’d lifted them forwards, your hands slipping onto the shelf in front of you as he’d wanted, holding onto it instinctively, realising now that he’d been offering you stability instead. Your body burned even brighter than before. You’d be needing something to grip because he wasn’t going to take you lightly, you needed to hold onto something if you were going to cope with him. 

He knew you couldn’t possibly break. You’d proven to him already that you could handle it. You were so prepared to take him. Until you’d noticed the one little error of your ways. You’d not had the chance to see him, to wonder if your assumptions had been correct. You’d not known how big or how thick he was or how it’d curve and which direction it would curve in if it even curved at all. You may have felt your arousal trickling down your thighs. You may have been holding your breath and white knuckling the shelves before he even attempted to prick you but oh my. You were not even remotely prepared for the fullness. 

Calum’s hands rested heavy on your hips. You expected to feel the nudge of his hand grazing your backside as he touched himself in preparation to graze your cunt, but he does no such thing. He simply thrusted himself between the hot, wet mess of your lips and cunt with no attempt to enter you at all. He didn’t dare stop until he was satisfied with the coating of your dampness now slicking his cock ready to take you. He leaned forward, chest embracing your back. He flipped your hair over your shoulder, his chin resting in the now empty space he’d created on the other side. You felt a slight drag of stubble close to your neck before he’s uttering his instructions for you. “Take my cock in your hand.” You shuddered under the breath he fanned across your ear. “Come on baby, just for me.” He kissed your neck in encouragement. His arms wrapped around your middle. Your left hand released the shelf with a crack at the knuckle, finding a new home now between your legs. You leant down, back arching, ass pushing out, bumping him as you refrained from hunching to complete your task. 

You didn’t miss the way his hips bucked, and his cock jumped when your fingers found him. You didn’t miss how only your middle and ring finger could span the entirety of his thickness. You didn’t miss how one hand wasn’t nearly enough to capture his full length at once. And you certainly didn’t miss the amount of exposed skin going untouched when you glided your hand up and down him just to gather a better picture in your mind of what he might look like. You knew that in fact, it may take two. Two of your palms and even the addition of your lips at his tip to fully encase him. He was big. He was mouth-wateringly, cunt achingly big. You tugged him inside of you and braced the for the heat of the fever it brought upon your body. “Jesus fucking Christ.” A groan ripped from his throat.  

He expected to give you a moment. He expected you to need adjusting like those he’d had before. He expected you to cry that it was too much and all too soon and that you couldn’t possibly take him completely. He expected his ego to be boosted so high he wondered how we was ever nervous of being with you in the first place. It never came. You didn’t dare wait to accept the intrusion of his thick cock. You didn’t dare to linger and wonder if it would ever start to feel better than a stretch. You just pushed your hips back onto him, your ass flush against his pelvis, cock sheathing itself inside you as far as it could go and then some. And then some because you’re not just taking him whole, swallowing him up till he couldn’t reach any further. No, you’re wiggling your ass, skin recoiling and wobbling against him with the quickness of your movement. You’re taking his cock so deep he’s feeling claustrophobia from the way your cervix is blocking his path, walls closing in on him preventing him from travelling deeper. And it excited you to think about the delicious specks of pain his hot cock was pricking your insides with. 

It took every ounce of his strength not to flood you with his cum that very second. He could have done it. He wouldn’t have been embarrassed, not when it felt that good just to be inside you. Not when you really were made to engulf him in your flames. If he finished, who could blame him? To be hugged like that. To be warm and snug and held so tight. It would be cruel for anyone to tease a premature finish from a predicament like that.

“Baby, baby please.” Your voice was shaky, breathy, and so quiet. No wonder he hadn’t heard you over his own thoughts. How was it that you were the one stuttering when it was you that had felt so transcendent, not him? You had no fucking idea how well you took him. Even when he’d been standing there in bliss so long he’d forgotten he was supposed to be moving and enjoying you in the first place. It slipped right by you.

He kissed your neck, sucking sweet bruises beside those already scattered there previously. His hips pulled back, cock barely leaving you before surging back forwards. He pulled back further each time, pulling more of him away only to force it back in again with the echo of your wet cunt bouncing around the room. You gripped the shelves so hard you feared you may dent them, as he drove his cock into you. His hips pulsed into yours, balls slamming into you whenever his pelvis made contact. His one hand dug into the flesh of your waist, bunching your skin in his fingers, gripping so tight you worried he might pull the chunk clean off of you. Every now and then he bit down on your shoulder when you convulsed around him. “Keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna fucking lose it.” You took it as an invitation to grip him again. He felt good because of you. You felt good because of him. Might as well enjoy it.

You threw your head back, resting it against his shoulder, exposing more of your throat to him as you started to fuck yourself onto his cock. He was losing it, not sure he ever had it to begin with actually, not around you. With every second passing by. Every time you made a fucking sound you drove him to madness. You were absolutely feral. You had all of the power. You met his every thrust. You angled him towards you, to your liking, even standing on the tips of your toes to feel him rub your sweet spot the way you’d needed. How was it that you’d ended up back in charge? Even when he’d been so convinced he’d gotten you where he wanted. Your pussy was so damn distracting, that’s how.

“Oh Calum.” He was revving himself up to regain control of you. His spare hand trapped your throat, his fingers and thumb adding little to no pressure around your neck just yet. “Please, God please fucking choke me.” His lips grunted heavily into your ear. Of course, you wanted it before he’d really thought about it. Always one step ahead of him even now. “This what you like?” He was beginning to constrict you, knowing full well you couldn’t communicate effectively now that he had but this time, he’d actually force you to. 

“Come on, tell me.” Despite the steadiness of his tone, his lower half was anything but steady. He was pounding into you. It was so hard for you to focus and feel the structure of your own body as well as the shelf before you rattling away violently. You were trembling at his thrusts. Your back arched involuntarily. You pushed back to meet his hips whenever you could, and he certainly didn’t let you slip away far enough to make it easier on you. You were so overwhelmed you couldn’t tell which way was up, down, left, or right. He’d fucked you completely dumb, no thoughts swirling around your pretty little head anymore and yet, he needed the conversation. Why would he dare to make your life easier now? 

“Tell me you like it; tell me you like my hand on your throat. Tell me how you like my cock fucking your pussy. Tell me this cunt is mine baby come on.” He was pushing you; he was forcing a response you’re too embarrassed to give and he was desperately hanging on the edge waiting to hear your confirmation. “Tell me baby!” He was the one crumbling to pieces now. His fingers loosened around your throat in an attempt to draw the words from it but it’s not his hand that was the problem. The problem was that you couldn’t dare speak because if you did, if you even attempted to produce a sound he’d know what you were doing. He’d know that you were so needy and gagging for it that you’d been cumming all over his cock just from the way he spoke to you. “I- love-.” You just couldn’t say it. You couldn’t catch your breath, you just moaned hard. “Fuck, did you just, did you just cum?” 

You were so embarrassed. You knew he wasn’t upset; how could he be? He’d made you finish not once but twice in one night; your first night together might he add. Your embarrassment was lying in the fact you weren’t even close to being finished with him. You needed more. You had to get more. You’d had a taste of his addictive drug and you were not going to relinquish it now. “Good fucking girl.” He rasped. “Fuck you’re so good, unbelievable, unreal.” He was a mess of praises and curses. He was mind blown at the response he received from you. He knew it was good, knew you were feeling good but if he’d known you’d fall for him like this, he’d have made a move a lot sooner.

“More Cal, I need more.” His eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “What’s fucking wrong with you?” You snorted out a laugh to his question. You wish you fucking knew. Your body was way out of your control now. “Just fucking me so good.” You knew he wasn’t buying it. “Please baby.” He scoffed at your level of greed. You’re not playing it up to make him cum, you’re doing it because you want to another orgasm for yourself. 

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” You did, you really did. “You’ve been holding out on me hmm, standing all sweet and precious behind that counter. Made me think that glitter lip gloss smile was sent from heaven above. You’re just another whore though aren’t you?” You were nodding furiously. “Been wanting this the whole tine haven’t you?” 

His hips were more erratic and aggressive now. He was fucking into you so hard it actually started to hurt him as well as you. It was so hard your feet didn’t stay in the same spot for long, his thrusts forcing your form forward each and every time no matter how much you fought to remain still. “Fuck fuck.” You weren’t sure who it came from. You were reduced to nothing. No words, nothing coherent anyway, I mean fuck, you couldn’t even breathe properly, couldn’t stand properly. You were getting fucked rougher than you ever could have imagined and your whole body ached in pain but just to feel him you stood there and took it. You took it all. 

“Cum already.” He half demanded half begged. He was on the cusp and would be damned if you didn’t finish before him even if it was your third time. “Or I finish without you.” A very empty threat. If he’d held it this long, he had the patience of a saint and he could wait a bit longer for it. His hips snapped into yours, cock so sharp inside you, spearing into you, ramming inside your cunt like it was the last thing he would ever do. He chased and chased the euphoric feeling, suddenly neglecting to check if you had found your own, so ready to take you for real, to give you all he had. “Fuck, where should I?” He tried to string the thought together before it was already too late. 

You wanted it inside, more than anything you want it inside you, flooding your pussy, filling you up so much you overflow. You couldn’t be so irresponsible. Not this time. “Pull out, cum on me, come anywhere on me.” He pressed sweet kisses atop your spine while his cock still rocked into you milking your tight cunt for all it was worth right up until he couldn’t bare it any more, cock slipping out, his hands gripping it, pulling on the wet flesh before he jerked off, his release dripping hot beads of cum to coat the roundness of your ass. He gasped and grunted as he emptied himself, forehead pushing into your spine, sweat sliding down it. His left hand clutched yours pulling it down from the shelf to interlock with his. Once his breath was less short he brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss so unlike your treatment a moment ago. 

The two of you stood there with your legs shaking and your breath ragged. “Jesus fucking Christ.” You broke the silence with a croaky voice, a surprise to neither of you with the amount of screaming you’d done. Calum sighed deeply, and you thought he might tell you to shut the fuck up, wouldn’t even blame him for it actually, but it never came. He instead pulled away from you, slinking down to his knees to grab your jeans and the panties crumpled inside them, sliding them back up your legs.

He used his discarded shirt to wipe the mess he’d made of your back, before tossing it to the ground, making a move to grab your striped top. He prodded your hips to get you to turn around, gasping at the blood trickling down your lower lip. “Oh sweetheart.” His thumb dipped to gather it away, lifting to show it to you briefly before suckling it into his mouth like some kind of vampire. You simply couldn’t avoid the way your lips whined at it. “Oh no, no way, you’re not getting turned on again, you’re banned.” He pecked your nose to lessen the threat before pulling your shirt over your head. He was hoping you might lift your arms to slip inside the material but not he wasn’t upset or surprised when he’d had to really commit to dressing you by himself. 

When your head poked back through the material, a pout was coating your lips. “No seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He tried to deadpan the question, but you knew he wasn’t the slightest bit concerned for you. He enjoyed your neediness, it had him unashamed of the throbbing sensation returning to his cock at the vision of you bloodstained lips. The lips you’d bitten cause his cock was too fucking much for you, he adored that thought.

“You’re pretty mean.” You commented with lack lustre intensity. “And you’re pretty.” He responded, he didn’t even cringe, neither did you, thankfully. He continued to dress you till there were none of your clothes left lying around. He guided you over to the sofa, letting you rest before he even  considered throwing his fleece back on. It wasn’t as if he was cold enough for it anyway, your comfort was more his concern right now. If that was the state of your lip, he can only imagine the damage to the rest of you. 

“Can we cuddle?” You didn’t really think about how possible that would be on the tatty couch you now sat upon. The one you’d gotten from a thrift store a couple months back, painstakingly dragging it through the fire exit singlehandedly. Once he’d gathered his belongings he sat beside you, the couch dipping where his body sank down. He grabbed you with ease, bringing you into him. You cuddled into his side, your head first on his shoulder before dropping lower with your fatigue. You were now resting somewhere across his chest, low enough for him to rest his head atop yours. He stroked over your back absentmindedly but soothingly enough to have your eyes closing in relaxation. He caught your head drifting, twitching as you stumbled into slumber, the peace of being in his arms just carrying you far away. 

“Hey pretty girl.” He nudged you lightly. “Don’t really think you wanna fall asleep right here.” He knew he wasn’t far behind you, but he had no intention of spending the night in that store room, even if the building was becoming his favourite place on earth. “What about upstairs?” You half yawn. “Upstairs?” He repeated it as a question. “Mmhmm.” You responded, as if it made it anymore clear to him. “A shred of context might be nice stripe.” You may have been exhausted but you were not about to let that nickname go unpunished. “Firstly, fuck off, secondly, when you fuck off, be sure to go through that door.” You weakly pointed at the door adjacent to the fire exit, again, something in this room he’d never have noticed unless it was pointed out to him. It must have been some kind of magic, surely he wasn’t ignorant enough not to spot that. “I live upstairs if you haven’t caught on yet, handsome.” He rolled his eyes playfully and you knew what was coming next when he started smirking before he even finished the sentence. “Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #5sos smut #5sosfam #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos one shot #calum 5sos #calum hood 5sos #calum hood #calum 5 seconds of summer #calum hood imagine #5sos x reader #5sos calum imagine #5sos calum smut #5sos calum #calum hood smut #5sos calum fic #calum hood fic #calum hood one shot #5 seconds of summer calum

[kimbap-r0ll]

🍎 for Chrollo plz!!!

I hope I did that right😭.

Hi, thank you for the ask! I'll be making the reader gender neutral for this since you didn't specify, hope you like it! He's a bit of a yandere in this one too

Follower Event: Yandere?Chrollo x reader - "Baby, I can kiss you better, what exactly do you see in him?"

Chrollo was doing what he started as a hobby about a month ago. It wasn't as spectacular as stealing from grand museums or burning down buildings owned by the mafia, but it was something he had picked up and started to enjoy.

He was watching you.

You were talking to a friend of yours, one that he was sure you were developing a crush on. The friend was pretty normal, at least in Chrollo's standards, and didn't have any of the charms he thought you would be interested in. You would dive deep into different topics with so much passion but your friend would nod and scroll on his phone. He was pretending to listen to you.

"Hey, do you think someone's watching us?" you asked your friend, who was laughing softly to himself at a funny text he received from another friend of his.

"Huh? Um, no I think you're just being paranoid. It's a safe city, I also don't think there's anything noteworthy for killers to target you for," he shrugged, glancing up at you once before going back to his phone. You looked around the cafe that the two of you were sitting in, glancing at all of the faces around you before your eyes set back on the cup of tea that you were drinking. It was growing cold.

Not only are they beautiful but they also have good intuition, how cute, Chrollo thought to himself. He took a sip of his own drink before going back to reading (or pretending to read to be exact).

"Did you ever have a crush on someone?" you asked your friend, this time inching a little closer to him by placing your elbows on the table. Your friend looked at you like you were crazy and finally set his phone down.

"No, not really. Even if I did like someone it wouldn't be someone that I know from here, I wanna leave the big city," he responded. You chewed the inside of your mouth and nodded quietly.

What do you see in him y/n, Chrollo sighed, you had no idea someone in the cafe would be more than happy to talk to you than the bastard in front of you.

The leader of the troupe was a hopeless romantic, though he would never admit this in front of anyone but Pakunoda. He did create imaginary scenarios of you and him together, either in a cafe or waltzing in a fancy ballroom (likely one that was empty after Shizuku disposed of any dead bodies in there). He often imagined what it would be like to caress your soft skin or to kiss your soft lips. He would write love poems about you before tucking them away in his coat pocket. This was new to him but how he started liking you was a whole different story.

It started with when you two were waiting for some coffee at the same cafe that you were in currently. You two had started talking about Meteor City, and he didn't cut corners, telling you he was a Meteorite. You had nothing to say other than "That's really cool, I've wanted to see the place for myself."

The two of you ended up talking for hours, about literature or if the mysterious Dark Continent existed. He fell in love with your voice, your looks, but most importantly with your personality. He was attracted to the sunny smile you had and the bright atmosphere you carried. If anything, it was like he was able to escape the darkness that had enveloped him for such a long time.

Chrollo was pulled out of your thoughts when he heard chairs scraping against the cold marbled floor. You were going to leave with your friend, awkwardly telling him that you were glad he made the time to have tea with you.

What exactly do you see in him? Chrollo asked himself, frowning as he saw how you looked so eager to talk to your friend but your friend gave no response back. It almost made him angry how nonchalant your friend was being to someone Chrollo thought was so special.

He was going to follow you for a bit longer, maybe he could strike up a conversation with you and whisk you away from the sad love attempt you were in. But until then, he kept thinking of how he could treat you a hundred times better than that friend of yours.

#follower event #anon ask #chrollo #chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #hxh imagines #hxh scenarios #phantom troupe #phantom troupe x reader #gn!reader

[chronically-ghosted]

✨ happy new year! ✨

it's not yet 2024 where i am but it is where my love @ravensmadreads is, so happy new year already enjoying january 1st!

i usually overthink around my birthday as i march towards death but you lovely people have really made me think about 2023 as it comes to a close. i feel weird talking about myself (unless im drunk and we haven't started drinking yet so hold onto your butts for that possibility), so i'm just going to say this:

You all changed my life.

there, that's it. if you read this and you think it doesn't mean you, yes it does. not a day goes by where this place, this community does not bring me joy and warmth. i hope you get that job you wanted, or you get that fur baby adoption you've been hoping for, or you get accepted to that school you wanted to, or you graduate with all the honors, or you create the thing you've always wanted to, or you get the baby you've been hoping for, or the person who makes you heart flip says i love you. i'm nervous about next year because it truly feels like a year where anything can happen 🤍

now to the fandom stuff:

i've never done a fic rec list because inevitably, i'm a fucking moron and i leave someone out. i know it hurts when i'm left out of a fic rec list so i never want to do that to anyone here. what follows is a list of fics that spoke specifically to me. the old saying goes is that you don't write fanfic for yourself, you write it for the five freaks on discord that can't write coherent sentences after you publish -- and it's true. fanfic isn't about numbers -- i would much rather write for my five freaks on my discord (where my work has deep, emotional impact for them) than try to write for a large crowd that i will never ever manage to please all at once.

my wish for you in 2024 you all find your freaks. and i hope i'm one of them.

side note: there are a couple fics not on the list because i wanted to highlight fics that i didn't see much on other end of the year rec lists. but @iamskyereads 's Compulsion should be read in graduate programs and @whatsnewalycat already knows i'm going to name my first born child after her for her Psychomanteum. yall rock my goddamn world.

so without further adieu . . . these are the fics i read this year that tickled me pink.

God is a Woman by @wheresarizona the way arizona writes max is entirely unique. i love her descriptions of how cold he is and how he doesn't breathe. i read this and had to rethink everything i ever wrote for max

the impaler by @kiwisbell the dracula x johnathan x mina vibes in this are spectacular. this is a pairing i never thought i'd see much less enjoy so thoroughly. why is older tim being seduced by a younger max so hot??

night one by @haylzcyon this is one of the first fics i read by hayley and she pretty much set the standard for all marcus pike fics moving forward. his endless patience, his flirty attitude, how he see things the reader won't admit, and then the sleeping bag -- god i'd read a thousand more fics about this dymanic

blood & tinsel by @morallyinept so if i tried to list all of my favorite jett fics, we'd be here all night. but this one stands out to me because it's so well built. the description of the vampire "trance" or "glamor" or "compulsion" without using any of those words is INCREDIBLE. plus max is face-meltingly hot in this.

the world turned on its side by @idolatrybarbie this was a surprise that came outta nowhere, but it hit me like a fucking train. bea weaves a story that sticks with you and creates a frankie that makes my entire soul sing.

heat by @wordywarriorwrites okay, listen. the beauty of fanfic is that you can have insane, animalistic smut AND literary level writing. this fic is both. i have yet to come across another frankie abo fic that makes the dynamic more than a reason for the blorbos to fuck like animals. it's so well done, there's so much love here.

in fiction @sin-djarin yall know dieter is my boy so i am VERY particular about how he is written in fic. everyone's interpretation is valid, but for dieter fics to resonate with me, there has to be this special blend of humor, kindness, dorkiness, and a sexiness you didn't expect. this fic is all of that and more.

reminiscence by @projectionistwrites this was one of the first joel fics i read and there's something about it that just . . . feels right, feels natural to Joel. there's a raw honesty to both joel and the reader that just sunk into my chest. the back and forth over the drink, the SMUT, everything is just this beautiful snapshot of two lonely people in the apocalypse.

oct' 19 x ghosts by @trulybetty another author that if i tried to choose a favorite, i simply couldn't. betty created a lovely, lovely world with this one (and the rest of the prompts for this one and her december prompts). i love fics that add a new layer to dieter and this one opened him up in a way that made him glow!

renegade by @eupheme my personal favorite brand of joel is one that comes alive between reader's thighs. more boulder than human until you bring something to the surface. and this totally captures that. im a sucker for a good qz fuck-that-verges-on-love and i adore everything about it.

Dominica by @ohforficsake if you ever need proof that notes do not reflect the quality of a fic, look no further. the language, the mastery of tension, and beauty of these descriptions are one two punches that knock me on the ass. genuinely one of my favorite frankie fics of all time.

wanna bet? by @write-and-buried i debated putting this or her celestial navigation fic on this list, but this one just tickles me. i love it when authors throw in a confident, sex-obsessed dieter now and again and this makes me howl. and the DEBAUCHERY of the statue oh my god!

give it to me @sp00kymulderr okay now to be fair, this review is entirely biased. i genuinely love gideon and all that they bring to this fandom. plus, they let me scream about dieter and then sends me dieter pictures that make me scream even louder. this fic is SO important to me. dieter here is everything i need and want: hesitant, anxious, but so madly in love. if i could wake up in one single fic every day, it'd be this one.

stepwise by @the-scandalorian i joined this fandom through din and this has been, and always will be, one of my top favorites. the evolution of din from being touch averse to LUSTING after it, it kills me. it's a oneshot but so much is accomplished in such a short time. the writing here is simply superb.

salvatore by @devilmademewriteit i came for the premise, stayed for the smut, and continued for the banter. i go back to this one all the time for inspiration with my own writing and then i get sucked in and read the whole thing through -- twice. javi drives me absolutely wild in this.

a whole new can of worms by @hier--soir i accidentally read this out of order initially, but this was just reason for me to reread it from start to finish. fwb!joel can be really hit or miss for me, and primarily because this fic sets the standard. this feels like a real joel, a joel that has lost and found loved ones all through out his life and now in jackson, he can finally relearn what it means to be a lover. so good, so fun with the banter -- and the friggin' greenhouse scene -- woof!

telltale heart @astroboots i am a SUCKER for 'frankie fixes his life' fics and this is one of the best. there are consequences for his choices in colombia, one that almost has him lose his family, and the woman he loves. this a real, genuine struggle for two people to overcome a seemingly impossible challenge in their marriage. you know the phrase, love conquers all? yeah this is that fic.

brand you in the way it counts by @charnelhouse charnel was one of the first authors i read for the pedroverse -- and i mean i READ her. i read every single one of her fics at least twice and this one always sends me over the edge. it's such an inspiration to my own writing and i keep going back to her whole body of work to be reminded i can always improve my own writing

west by @radiowallet when people want to know why fanfic matters, i want to show them this fic. it is achingly beautiful and written with a loving and gentle hand. joel is a messy, broken man but still capable, still good, still wanting to find love in this and i adore everything about this. Oneshots can be more devastating than multichapters because they end and this is one of them that drags me back to it constantly.

And to that weird little dude out of Chile who has no idea how much light he brings to the world…

Much love, Taylor 🤍

#the very last #taylor rambles #of 2023 #yall lucked out

[mr-kench]

Minority Ambassadorship

I need to get something off my chest and it’s been bothering me for a while but I could never figure out the right words. So I’m just going to shoot my shot and clarify if need be. I’m all for representation and all that but the way it’s been handled in recent years.

The thing that helped me finally click all the pieces together was the recent Spider-Man game. While Peter has a proper adventure Miles is not. He’s doing side jobs and while obviously showing he’s part of the community, his story also falls into a dangerous trap I keep seeing. They (the writers) make him the ambassador of his culture no one is the entirety of their culture but writers keep doing this stuff.

White folks in stories have the freedom to be anything, like anything and feel anything. They’re organically made all the time. But the moment a different race takes the stage they’re chained to the cultural stereotypes. Even Wakanda has just become “Africa the Country” theirs no uniqueness to it, it’s populated by every conceivable African Stereotype. Heck I remember a few years back a marvel comic was made with Miles being made the new Thor and IMMEDIATELY Asgard turned into a Ghetto and it was the most racist joke I’ve seen in a while.

This isn’t new by any means. More often than not when an American enters an anime they’re stereotypically American. Wearing the American flag, usually blond for some reason, constantly swearing and won’t shut up and if we’re feeling REALLY spicy we can make them big and scary.

That habit of writers though can create a feeling of “otherness” to anyone that isn’t you and can actually reinforce stereotypes. You’re not your culture and you shouldn’t be pressured into that mindset. You can absolutely be influenced by it but people aren’t just ambassadors to their culture. That’s ignorant to the highest degree.

Considering many games that do this are affiliated with Sweet Baby Inc. I’m not surprised but it just means we should fight harder against it.

Sweet Baby Inc. is one of those companies that’s basically “sensitivity writers” they show up to punch up stories to make them more “inclusive” but what this usually means is make them subtly racist, homophobic and authoritarian and barring that making a story less interesting. They’re involved with almost every failure within recent types in the gaming market including Suicide Squad and Last of Us 2. They even worked on Spider-Man 2 and the Miles Morales Game. Both of which you can see what I’m talking about by making Miles the Ambassador of Black People and Harlem. They were even involved with the Spanish Translation of Spider-Man 2 which upset that entire part of the world because they used words like Latinx which is considered a slur and an act of colonialism as white people try to force them to change their own language.

Sweet Baby Inc. and its employees are a bunch of racists, homophobes and Authoritarians pulling the greatest grift of all time by pretending to not hate those people and acting like they don’t want to control how people think. The mask has come off frequently and only recently has it come off in such spectacular fashion that a lot of the internet is starting to notice myself included.

In conclusion though, don’t be a racist and let characters of other races and sexual orientation be actual people instead of being the ambassadors of their people. Don’t support bigots that pretend to be on your side and be mindful of people like that. Also don’t buy anything Sweet Baby Inc touched because they’re all of those things.

#story writing #stop normalizing racism #racism #stereotypes #harmful stereotypes #last of us part 2 #suicide squad #spider man 2 ps5 #miles morales #sweet baby inc

[celestialholz]

So, The Harvest...

Oh, you thought I wasn't coming back for you after spending five hours on Surrendering Sunflora, did ya? Thought you were slipping under my radar? Guess again, my spicy little friend...

The Harvest is of course Brassius' other named Artazon sculpture, and it tells its own compelling narrative, because... well, of course it does, have I taught you all nothing? Imagine this guy does something straight for 0.3 of a second.

Fellow gay theorist mini Holz will be demonstrating these for you today:

For simplicity's sake, we'll call these A, B and C respectively. Now, I've commented before that C is the perfect example of The Harvest being part-Brass, part-Hass and part-Arboliva, because of its colours, spikiness and form, but what's a story with only its ending?

And so, if one must be relevant to types, so must the others.

This is, as were the Sunfloras, allegorical. I've had to take the meanings from these, as representations of their types. But I've said it before and I'll say it again - this is what artists do, and this is also what people who makes game do. They ask you to consider their minds at the time of creation, and that's kinda of my whole deal, ripping that shit open like it's a goddamn Christmas present.

We start, therefore, with A. A's colours represent the Fire and Electric types - a passion, a spark, a zest and a joy in living. In colour theory, yellow is happiness, and red is fire - a blaze of emotion. And yet, it's circled by pale blue 'olives' - in Pokemon terms, the Ice type, and a type our dear Brassie is weak to. This is his beginning - creativity, smothered by the cold of depression. We know he was saved by Hass, which leads us to...

... B. B is saturated now in Ice - the cold has crept in, the depression and illness is defining him more than the joy in art. Except... now it's joined by pink. And this pink is damn close to the Psychic type, a type filled with knowledge, mental strength, and sunshine allegories - Solgaleo and Solrock, anyone? Or, you know, a man who looks far too much like a Sunflora...

B, therefore, is Brass finding Hass, at his lowest ebb. Hass is getting under his skin, showering him in praise, showing him that he's worth all the self-belief and self-confidence in the world, healing him... which is where the Dragon-type indigo comes in. This time, Hassel orbits him; he circles the outside, understanding, encouraging, boosting that mental strength by showing Brass how worthy and brilliant he is. Which leads to only one conclusion...

... C. C is harmony. C is the man we find before us in the game, the end product of all that boosting, all of Hassel's kindness - the confident, established artist, the man who has allowed colour and vibrance back into his life, orbited now once again by Electric olives - the spark's back. They almost look like miniature suns. Imagine that...

Grass and Dragon, in perfect complement.

Where this gets even more fascinating is that whilst you can find several versions of each colour variant in Artazon, the first place you encounter them is in the central plaza - and whilst A and B host a confused couple, each wondering where their love is...

... C stands separate, unconcerned.

Because C? C is anything but alone. It doesn't need one to wonder where the other is - they're right here, and they always will be.

Just to put the cherry on the cake of this adorable saga, though, we must head a town over. Game Freak so deep in their lore mini Holz has to cross Paldea to piece it together. Fucking spectacular, you funky little company.

Welcome to the central plaza of Levincia instead, where we find this homosexual lassooing his own C on a digital ad board with his own whip. And what's he lassooing it away from? The purple - or, in this case, the Poison type.

... You know, that one type that infects, that creates toxicity. One of those other types Grass is weak to. Nothing toxic will destroy this harmony, not on this man's watch; he will never regress back to the darkness and the depression whilst he has that Dragon beside him, whilst that spark remains.

#ephemeralartshipping #hassius #hassel x brassius #hassel #brassius #pokemon scarlet and violet #... these men will be the fucking death of me #that moment when you realise artazon is even MORE OF A LOVE LETTER than you thought it was #this is why this game is glitchy as fuck #the devs were too busy crafting flawless gay lore #they're so valid

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Malleus Draconia Masquerade Dress Personal Story: Part 2

"We should begin from the top once more"

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)

[Diasomnia Dorm – Lounge]

Malleus: A song… And can such a thing truly be a suitable gift?

Azul: Oh, to brush it off as a mere "thing"… It seems you don't know the full weight of your worth, Malleus-san.

Azul: If a mage as distinguished as you were to perform a song at this social gathering from the deepest reaches of your heart…

Azul: Our hosts at Noble Bell College would be more than honored.

Azul: In addition, it would be a lifelong memory for those who participated in this cultural exchange.

Azul: This would be a much more wonderful present than some perfunctory token of appreciation.

Sebek: Human… No, rather, Azul-senpai…!

Sebek: You truly do understand the splendor of Malleus-sama!! I see you in a different light now! This is a spectacular idea!

Malleus: Hm. Is that truly so?

Sebek: Yessir! If I were to receive a song performed by you, Malleus-sama… I would feel I've died and gone to heaven!

Silver: I also love songs. As long as it is sung whole-heartedly, your feelings are capable of reaching anyone.

Azul: Indeed. Songs cost nothing, and yet are full of passion and leave a favorable impression. It's especially ideal for students like us to organize and perform…

Azul: It is the best, most cost-efficient present possible!!

Lilia: That sure took a sudden turn… But, yes, a song might be a good suggestion.

Lilia: Show them your singing, and they in turn will have a chance to become acclimated with you. Then perhaps you’ll find you fit in better with everyone else at the cultural exchange.

Lilia: When it comes to songs performed at Noble Bell College in the City of Flowers… One comes to mind.

Lilia: It is an old song that has been passed down in the City of Flowers for generations. If you were to perform a song beloved by the locals, your hosts should be overjoyed as well.

Malleus: I see. Lilia, elaborate more on that song for me, please.

Malleus: Silver and Sebek, I'd like for the two of you to gather all those who will be participating in this little exchange.

Malleus: I have very little experience when it comes to undertaking a musical performance with a large group, but I assume it will require much more preparation than if it were to be only for one person.

Malleus: Once we have settled on the piece, we shall have to assign parts, and begin practicing… From now until the day of the cultural exchange, we shall be extremely busy.

Azul: Indeed. Let us all do our best!

Azul: We'd selected a song as our cost-efficient gift choice, and I have been chosen to be featured as one of the main vocalists.

Azul: Up until here, it had all gone according to my plans, but…

Malleus: Ashengrotto. You started that part just now half a beat off.

Malleus: Additionally, listening to the chorus we recorded earlier, it seems as though the parts we sing together aren't harmonizing well.

Malleus: That is no good. The most important part of the chorus is the harmony… At least that is what Lilia has told me.

Malleus: Perhaps the fault lies with me. We should begin from the top once more to see where we can improve ourselves.

Azul: H-How proactive… I never expected Malleus-san to be this eager!

Azul: I helped create this training program, and yet for us to go through such a rigorous lesson… This is far beyond what I expected.

Malleus: Shroud, you should listen to Lilia's example more, as well.

Lilia: The tune here should be like, "♪La la la～～". Go on!

Idia: ………………la………, la……

Malleus: What is the matter? I cannot hear you at all.

Idia: I-I mean… Think about it…!

Idia: You got me, me of all people, to come all the way here to Diasomnia, so if anything, I should be getting an achievement or something!?

Azul: True, you did well to leave your room. I wonder, will it hail later today?

Idia: I was so hoping a meteorite would come crashing down, cancelling the whole thing.

Idia: And I was trying to figure out how to avoid this whole thing with Ortho back in my room, too…

Idia: But then Silver-shi and Sebek-shi just barged in with such force!

Idia: I didn't think my intricate security system could be beaten by sheer "brute force." I'll have to upgrade it tonight.

Lilia: Kufufu… If you're going to strengthen your room's defenses, we'll just increase our offensive capabilities.

Lilia: The impressive security system you folks in Ignihyde hold dear is no match for Diasomnia whatsoever.

Malleus: Indeed. Both Silver and Sebek, along with the rest of the Diasomnia students…

Malleus: Are under strict orders until after the cultural exchange has concluded to make the success of this song their highest priority.

Idia: No wonder I felt the glares of Diasomnia students wherever I went! Isn't this an abuse of the Dorm Leader's station!?

Azul: So, they are a thorough surveillance system, as well. His leadership abilities know no bounds…

Malleus: Understand this: Every single one of us who are participating in the cultural exchange will be a part of this special gift.

Malleus: On top of that, we, as the main vocalists for this event, are even more vital. You both are essential pieces of this gift…

Malleus: Which is why I will not allow either of you to leave Diasomnia today until you are able to perfectly sing the first part of this song perfectly.

Idia: He look scary serious…!

Idia: I already can't stomach having to practice singing the song in the first place, but somehow that intense pressure he's exuding makes it even harder to deal with!

Azul: Indeed. And the even bigger nuisance is…

Lilia: Alrighty, let's quit the chit-chat and get back to practice. I'll start the song over from the beginning, so Malleus, you go ahead and sing first.

Lilia: Okay, music, start!

Malleus: ♪ Frightened by the daybreak～

Malleus: ♪ I would wish countlessly～～

Azul: Malleus-san…

Idia/Azul: HE'S TOO GOOD AT SINGING!

Azul: While he has the proper technical skills… Somehow, he also has the ability to deeply touch the heart of those who are listening.

Idia: How's he this good at conveying emotions? What, does the royal training for the heir to Briar Valley including singing, too!?

Lilia: I do recall that back in Briar Valley, he had some musical training in order to improve his imagination ability, but…

Lilia: It seems he's put in an enormous amount of effort here. He must have practiced a lot.

Malleus: That's right. Every day, I practice by myself for two hours when I awaken, and two hours before I slumber.

Azul: If we're to sing alongside Malleus-san, then we will be expected to have an equal singing prowess…

Azul: I should not have been content with simply my ordinary practices. I also need to do more rigorous training!

Idia: So, you got the practice with all the reps, then the practice with the three main vocalists, and then another 4 hours of independent study…!?

Idia: I don't get how you have that much energy…! Or, more like, when do you actually sleep, Malleus-shi!?

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3)

#twisted wonderland #twst #malleus draconia #azul ashengrotto #sebek zigvolt #lilia vanrouge #idia shroud #twst translation #twst malleus #twst azul #twst idia #twst silver #twst sebek #twst lilia #twst glorious masquerade

[cinnamilkekouhai]

Komi! Reader x Tokyo Rev

Reader is a school beauty or known as the goddess in her state with a communication disorder (speech disorder)

In this story, reader knows the basics of martial arts and how to fight.

Jealous mikey.

Reader's family will not be introduced, has her own apartment

You r known for your beauty in the town, people often mistaken u as the goddess due to your spectacular appearance, people who liked u doesnt based on gender, u attracted both male and female. U really wanted to tell them thats not the case of u becoming a goddess in their eyes but theres one particular shortcoming u had since u were little, u have developed a speech disorder which prevented u from talking to people, even if u tried to talk, u will end up stuttering. Because of that, people will think of u as a cold-cool beauty who doesnt like to talk, which they find it cool for some reason-

But dont be too discouraged, u made a few new friends in school, emma, hinata, senju and yuzuha. 4 girls know about your speech disorder and decided to make friends with u which made u really happy about working towards the goal of making 100 friends. U love the girls more than anything and they find u adorable too, u told emma that u have to return some books to the library, she said she will be waiting for u at the gate and u nodded, senju couldnt come because she had a meeting with brahman and yuzuha had some classes on going, as for hinata she went out on a date with takemichi so its just left u and emma.

"Emma? What r u doing here?" mikey being surprised that emma is standing at the gate waiting for someone, he know the different schedule of the girls, he knows senju, hinata and yuzuha r busy so he was curious about who shes waiting, "shh just a minute until she comes, u'll see" emma gave mikey a small mysterious wink, making mikey being more curious about the 'she' emma was talking about. "cut the secret, emma tell us who is it-" "Y/n chann!!" draken was about to say something until emma cut him off by shouting your name and ran to u, the 2 boys turned their heads towards u as u r walking down the path to the school gate and they immediately frozed. U r very popular in school and they have heard of your beauty but has never seen it before, seeing your long pure dark-purple hair flows to your lower back and along with a pair of slanted eyes that r of the same colour just sends a blessing to them. "ken-chin..shes pretty.." mikey tugged on draken's sleeve, at this point draken was frozed too upon seeing the 'school goddess' that people mentioned about, even the teachers and the principle took a huge liking to u due to your intelligence, now they have saw it with their own eyes, they just stood there like a statue as emma held your hand in excitement upon seeing her beautiful friend. U r happy to see emma too while your face has a small blushed,

Emma："oh! Theres somebody i would like u to meet."

U："??"

Emma dragged u to the 2 boys who were still frozed in place, they just stare at u while emma just start introducing draken and mikey.

"this is manjiro sano, my brother, u can call him mikey, and thats ken Ryuguji, u can call him draken for short." u looked at the 2 boys and took out your notebook, mikey and draken was curious cause they have never seen anyone taking out a notebook after being introduced to someone, they looked at u writing something on your notebook and showed it to emma.

"U have a nice brother emma, address to them that my name is y/n komi and its nice to meet them, do tell them my condition so it wouldnt cause them some troubles in the future"

Emma chuckled as u look so cute to have a small blush on your face, she told mikey and draken about your name and your situation of having the condition, mikey had no idea how the condition works and draken had to explain it to him.

"ken-chin, whats a speech disorder?"

"speech disorder is basically a condition in which a person has problems creating or forming the speech sounds needed to communicate with others. I told u to atleast study and u were there getting into fights-"

"boo, ken chin dont embarrassed me infront of y/n chan..."

Mikey then walked up to u with cheeky smile and got closer to your face while patting u on the head, u blushed hard by the sudden interaction and covered your face with your hands.

U："(灬º 艸º灬)!!"

Mikey："y/n-chin, me and ken-chin will be your 5th and 6th friend, oh! U can come join toman, im sure u will make a lot more new friends there too! (/^∇^)/ "

Emma："aww whose in love nowwwww"

Draken："lol i call that love at first sight"

U："....." *blushed hard

U scribbled on your note book saying that u loved to be friends with them and for the first time ever, u tried to speak, u started with wanting to say a simple hi, what u meant to say was "konichiwa, mikey" but it came out with "ko-ko-ko-ko-ko-ko" mikey, draken and emma burst out laughing, not because they r making fun of your stuttering, but laughing because u r too adorable for them to handle, Especially your cute and soft little voice, emma hugged and praised u,

Emma："y/n chan improved so much! When we first met, she cant even say a single letter!"

Mikey："yea, draken can we go eat? Im hungry"

Draken："alright alright.."

Mikey："y/n chin is coming with us too right?"

U："...." *nodded

Emma："lets go to the same bakery! I heard they have some new ice cream!"

After having some snacks, mikey suggested that u can come hang out with him and his so called "gang", emma had tuition at the time so she left u with mikey and draken for them to take care of u, u were not so sure about the idea of being with them as u dont wanna cause any trouble for them, but the both of them reassured u with a smile, putting u at eased. U smiled back at them and they were so obsessed with it, mikey kept asking for more since he loved it so much and draken being a red head- u wrote on your notebook again.

"pls do not look at me, its making me feel embarrassed.."

U tilted your head to side, peeking out of your notebook with a heating red face. That gave those 2 a strike out of (yes) how cute u look, mikey immediately hugged u, draken just kept pulling him back because hes afraid that what mikey is doing will make u uncomfortable, but mikey just wont budged

Mikey："y/n chinn u r so adorablee!"

U："（・/////////・；）"

Draken："come on mikey, y/n is gonna feel uncomfortable"

Mikey："ehhhhh?? But y/n say she liked me..right y/n chin??"

Thinking for a moment, u nodded your head. Mikey is so overjoyed that u agree into liking him (as friends), but he wanted more than just like.

The 3 of u continue to walk down the road and came across a temple. U were confused about whats going on when mikey took your hand and walked up to the top of the temple, on the other side of the temple, u heard someone shouted "The toman president is here! SALUTE! BOW!"

"GOOD AFTERNOON, PRESIDENT!"

Mikey just looked at them from the top of the temple, he turned towards u, who was hiding behind draken from the sudden noise, mikey just chuckled "its okay y/n chin, meet my gang, toman" after saying that he turned towards the gang.

"Attention! I have some announcement to make."

All the members looked up towards mikey, waiting for his next announcement or command.

"i have bought someone with me, yall better not lay a dirty finger on her or else we r gonna get very nasty Got it?"

"YES SIR!"

Mikey held your hand, u stepped forward and u r now facing at a huge crowd with over or even more than a 100 people.

"whooaa shes so beautiful.."

"our president is so lucky to meet her.."

"i wonder if she is single"

Seeing so many people made u shivered out of nervous, mikey noticed it and held your hands even tighter, that movement alone had calm u down for a bit. After making sure u r okay, mikey then turned his head to toman.

Mikey："This is y/n komi, now shes the princess of toman and i know most of u had heard her name in school, im gonna make it very clear, right here and right now, Shes mine, if i know any of u tries to be funny about getting between me and her, ill beat the ass out of u. Understood?"

"y/n komi..?? Isnt she the school goddess??"

"my god, president is just so lucky.."

"i cant stop staring shes just so pretty.."

At this point, everyone was just so mesmerized by your fragile beauty to even pay full attention to mikey's words, It's still up to draken to bring them to their senses.

"R U GUYS DEAF? DID U NOT HEAR THE PRESIDENT'S WORDS??"

"YES SIR!"

U："...." *shivered*

U were just so confused at this point, what does mikey mean by "shes mine?", "princess of toman?", u kept thinking to yourself and u didnt hear mikey calling out to u.

Mikey："y/n chin? Hello? Earth to y/n!"

U："!"

Mikey："its our training time now, do u wanna watch? U can sit on that bench there."

U：*nodded*

U were sitting on a bench comfortably, with mikey and draken standing by your sides while supervising the gang members as they do their push ups and sit ups. The members gave their best shot than before knowing that the school goddess is looking at them right now, i mean, who dont wanna look and gave in their best when the person they like is infront of them. Draken was puzzled about the sudden motivation, but mikey knows that they r doing their best is because u r watching them.

U sat there, quietly watch them as they continue to train but u had something on your mind, draken noticed it and asked if u needed anything, u wrote down on your notebook and showed it to him.

"I have noticed a certain mis-posture of the fighting stands in Tadaaki san's, may i have the permission to correct them?"

He looked at u with a smile

Draken："u r toman's princess, pls do whatever as u like, dont be so casual, be a bit comfortable with us."

He then turned to mikey

Draken："oi, mikey, y/n said she wanted to have a talk with tadaaki"

Mikey："Everyone, stopped for a moment"

Everyone immediately stop what they r doing and turned their heads towards your directions, who is walking down the temple stairs towards the guy, man that guy is nervous as heck when the goddess in his heart approached him, Mikey shouted from the top of the temple.

"Oi, taddaki, show her your stands, she has some teachings for u."

Tadaaki immediately put on his stands, u bend down to look at his arms and hand placement, fingers tucked on your chin while thinking of something, welp, the guy really wanted this moment to stop, his goddess, standing right near him, he can feel u breathing and hear your heartbeat, hes face is red as hell.

Without saying anything, u held his arm softly and put it in the right place of the stands, u started teaching him the right ways of using the posture and even demonstrate it to him, surprisingly without u saying anything, he seems to understand what u r trying to teach him, everyone just looked at u both in dead silent (I can feel the jealousy here-). Finally getting it right, u patted him on the head, looking at him in the eye and gave him a 'u did it!' expression. The gang members looked at the interaction with full jealousy and rage, Especially mikey, it pissed him off that u r being so closed to that guy, patted that guy when u havent even pat him yet. Feeling irritated , he called out to u.

Mikey："y/n chin, pls come back now"

U："(▰╹◡╹▰)"

Tadaaki just wanted to spend some more time with u when he felt a glare and met the eyes of the raging mikey, shiver went down his spine, u ran to mikey with the most innocent face ever, and thats what he likes to see, he held u closer as he doesnt wanna let go of u anymore.

"Stop looking now, Continue!"

"Yes sir!"

"theres my baby!"

U turned around and see emma with yuzuha waving at u, u r so excited to see the girls and wanting to give them a hug, but mikey just cling onto u, making u hard to move, he even burried his face into the crook of your neck, that alone made u flustered

U："◐∇◐a ;;"

Mikey："nope im not letting y/n chin go.."

Emma："Mikey! Stop clinging onto my baby! Let her go this instant! (ง°̀ﾛ°́)ง"

Yuzuha："yea! U have your time with her, shes ours now! (●｀Д´)╭☞"

Draken："just keep it down.."

SORRY ILL CONTINUE THIS SERIES SOONER OR LATER, I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO INTRODUCE THE OTHER TOMAN FOUNDERS ITS LIKE 1AM HERE-

#y/n x toman #mikey x y/n #komi san wa komyushou desu #komi can't communicate #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers

[wishing-stones]

do you have any general headcanons for baggs?

Prefacing this with: if you want to know more about him, go to his creator and the blog for he and his au Here

I have loads.

It's difficult to pin down stuff that hasn't been mentioned, or that involves parts of the lore/story for Megalosomnia that haven't been revealed yet. So, while I have tons of headcanons about the story and/or other things that might be spoilery, I'll narrow it down to one for that:

-He created Flowey, being the Royal Scientist, and keeps him in a terrarium. It's been stated that he's not really around when the human/Frisk falls, and when you take that clever mind and the latent almost meta-level observation skills of Sans in general into account, you get someone who is unwilling to let his experiments just sit around in pots on a countertop. They were all in their own tanks, and when Flowey woke up, he was stuck in a glass (or plexiglass) cage with no real way out. It's since been expanded, so he isn't in a cramped little box, but he's down in the true lab with no way out. And, predictably, he hates this. He can still save, load, and reset, but... it doesn't do him much good when he's stuck in a tank. They get catty at one another, Flowey tries his best to needle Baggs into making the mistake of opening his tank for even a fraction of a second, but it never works in his favor. The tank is climate-controlled and everything in it is automated with no chance of escape. He's pretty well taken care of, at least.

This is the biggest headcanon I have for MS/Baggs in general. I might be close to canon, I might be way off. But... It makes sense for him to keep the one person he can't control under careful lock and key, doubly so when they can save and reset. All he has to do is get out of that tank once, and everything Baggs has built will come crashing down around him. It's a risk he absolutely cannot afford to take.

But, by the same stroke, Baggs knows who Flowey is, so it would be mutually assured destruction.

Other miscellaneous headcanons include:

-He's not as much of a hard ass as he comes off as, sometimes. I just don't get the chance to write him when he's not preoccupied with something else very often. Dumbassery comes with the territory of being a Sans, though, so he has the capacity for some spectacular feats of goofiness. If someone sees this, he doesn't even bother to remedy it-- he just smiles and more or less says "No one will believe you." (Also, most of what he's been present for when I write him is either a. his job or b. being very guarded around the others. He's starting to show otherwise, though.) -He is a lot more compassionate than he might come off as. While he keeps an air of professionalism about him, if he likes the people he's taking care of or looking after, he's accommodating and thoughtful. He's gentle with the flighty and conciliatory with the upset. His friends and family immediately fall into this category, and you can tell you're in good with him if it starts to feel more intrapersonal-- if he talks about himself at all. -It's known he likes Hot Pockets and Sushi, but in the same vein, he likes bagel bites, pizza rolls, anything else that is pizza-like and thrown in the microwave or oven. It's fast, it's absolutely awful for you, and it's greasy. He similarly likes other similar garbage-tier frozen microwave food, but the pizza-flavored ones are his favorite. He also likes mozzarella sticks. -He likes soaps. There's several he's partial to-- awful human programs that have fallen into Waterfall-- but they're good for background noise. They're terrible, he knows they're terrible, but they're entertaining for the sheer ridiculousness of it all, and no he is not invested in the secret romance, how dare you insinuate otherwise. -He has those glasses he wears around General, but they also come out if he needs to look disarming or have someone trust him a little more or if he wants to make a statement in the company of those who know what he's capable of that he's a complete non-issue right now and off the (proverbial) clock. He doesn't really need them. -He can sew! This is a bit of a necessity, since his (very cool custom) lab coat occasionally takes damage. He has more than one, but if you look very close, you can see just little peeks of fine white thread from a ladder stitch. -And, last but not least the goddamn heelys. They, I think, have been bounced around a bit and displayed in at least one piece of fanart. It's hilarious to me because while he's studious and hard-working, he's still a Sans, and you can never truly rid a Sans of all of his laziness in all areas. Coupled with the fact that he burns the candle at both ends, it makes sense to be able to roll from place to place rather than walking-- or better yet, have someone walk for him. Almost everyone in the lab is used to him catching rides on the back of their coats and just go along with it. It's just something the doctor does, so you get used to it fast if you work with him.

I've been rotating him and his au like a rotisserie chicken since I discovered them, so I've had a lot of time to sit and think about these. He lives in my head rent free so he may as well earn his keep by providing inspiration. Little turd.

#k answers #k headcanons #feat. baggs #megalosomnia #I got massively carried away but then again that tends to happen with him doesn't it? #he needs to be bullied and often #affectionately. #oh and also readmore for length as always

[ja3yun]

okay here goes my all.

i want to say that I LOVE THE EPILOGUE AJ ? 22k words 😩😩 such a blessing fr . it is so well WELL written ilysm for creating such a masterpiece im so serious im so attached to this series like wtf ? and esp the dolls and HEESEUNG 🗣️🗣️🗣️

so. i see the mia girlie accepted jake but just like him i hold a grudge so her,, so her bf dumping her very deserved.

also i love how jaeyun just LOVES yn so so so much 😭😭😭 reassuring her a lot and caring for her hes the sweetest ever like bless u little angel <3 and also him sensing the feelings she does have for hoonie and also seeing their connection too and like,, agreeing to the whole thing with hoon (i would never like my jealous ass wouldn’t do it personally so jake ily)

also the sex scene 😭😭😭😭😭 THAT WAS HOT🙌🏻 loved the mp reference too 🤭 BUT YEAH pls get me between jakehoon too ?? wtf as a jakehoon biased girlie i in fact did NOT survive this

also, as a heeseung supporter on this doll fic i have to say,,, i would’ve dropped on my knees. anything for you my prince. but i just ??? like you describe his aura so good u had even me fooled so … maybe thats why i consider hee so hot in this fic 😥 ( master manipulator oh youre so good at what you do… )

and the ending. i can’t say i saw it coming because i didn’t. i seriously was ready for yn to leave hoon behind ? but she offered her soul for him.. i dont want my future bf / husband if hes not offering his soul for me seriously. yn set a standard.

so yes overall, 100/10, showstopping, never the same , brilliant etc . i cant thank you enough for this fic 😩😩

ps. now an epilogue of an epilogue where demon!sunghoon goes rogue like ripper!stefan and shit id eat that up fr jk jk sjsjd

ps2. you had to kill me with the alt ending BC I WOULDVE EATEN THAT UP SOOO MUCH even though my heart wouldve broken for jongseong but wtv it will pass ?? and i couldve had another ynhee sex scene ?? and i couldve … had it all 😥😥😥😥 (sonny dead)

i added in her bf dumping her for you so you could have her suffer a little icl lmaoo. jaeyun will always be attentive in every fic i write like he just fits the loving bf theme sm. doll jaeyun's heart is just so full of love and all he wants is everyone to be happy even if it means his bestie bonking his missus lmao 😭 (could not be me either but if im yn then i say more the merrier)

i'd sell my soul to heesueung to be w jakehoon forever bc thats the easiest decision i would ever make in my life ahsjdb

the ynhee sex scene would have been so hot too like the ideas i had were spectacular (sorry you won't get it)

thank you for reading baby <3 i love u more than anything

#aj answers

[yourpintilts]

Only Friends and Genre Theory

Well - I guess I'll start this blog off with post about everyone's (my) favorite series (it literally has not aired yet) of 2023: Only Friends.

Recently, the nominees for the ContentAsia awards were released, and my friends and I were celebrating the nomination of The Eclipse for Best LGBTQ+ Show (yay!) when a really interesting topic arose. Someone pointed out that Jojo Tichakorn's Never Let Me Go was chosen over The Warp Effect, which they felt was his better work in 2022. Regardless of your opinion on that (though, I agree), we wondered if The Warp Effect is even eligible at all. Of course, the category is LGBTQ+ Shows, but every single nominee is a BL.

I've noticed, in my perusing of BL Twitter and Tumblr that most fans seem to differentiate between BL, lakorns/dramas, and the LGBTQ+ genre, but nobody seems to define them. They are designating the genre by, for lack of a better word (although I consider it pretty accurate), the vibes.

I've seen the off-handed "I wonder what genre it will be" or "It seems like Jojo is leaning away from BL with this series" comment more than once about Only Friends. And really, it's hard to say at all when all we have is a trailer and cryptic social media posts from the cast and crew, but, uh, I'm gonna try. Sort of.

So, let's get into it: Is Only Friends going to be a BL, drama, an LGBTQ+ show, or something else entirely?

Alright, before we get into trying to put a label on the series, let's talk about the labels themselves: it's Genre Theory time!

So, what is genre? Well, most of us would consider it to be the category that we put a type of media or art into: country music, romance novels, etc. Genres help us differentiate amongst the huge sea of art, find patterns and create links between work, and, most practically, help us decide if we will likely enjoy something or not.

Normally, it's not much more complicated than that. Sci-fi, drama, noir, biography - each of these gives you a basic idea of what you're getting into, what tropes you might expect, or how you might feel while consuming it. But film theorists will be film theorists, and it's not actually that simple.

Let's take the horror genre as an example. At its face, we define films as horror because they follow certain tropes and patterns: things like jump scares, the final girl, dark and saturated style, slashers and paranormal, etc. But what about movies like Parasite or Get Out? These films rely less on jump scares and physical horror - it's their concepts themselves that are so scary. And so this is where sub-genres come in, in which Parasite and Get Out are labeled as psychological horror to further define them. And then there are films that just... don't seem to be anything at all. Something like (because I recently watched it) In Bruges, which mixes crime, drama, and comedy, but also never fully leans in to any of them. It sort of defies genre altogether.

So, that's the gist of genre theory. Basically, the point is that sometimes you can put a film or other piece of art in a category, and sometimes you can't.

But, let's be honest. We don't care about other movies. Let's talk about sexy, spectacular, groundbreaking masterpiece that will be Only Friends, and how we can apply genre theory in order to try to figure out what label best fits.

There are several different indicators of a BL, and Only Friends does fit some of them:

Most straightforwardly: the primary story in a BL is a relationship between two male characters. Of course, in this case there are six male leads (and who knows how many different pairings... TopSan, NickSan, RayBoston, and more have their advocates, some even seem likely), but the point is that the series is focused on their relationships together. Along with this, two of the three primary couples - ForceBook and FirstKhaotung - featured in the show are official pairings at GMMTV. BLs nearly always feature couples who have worked or will work together in multiple shows.

The series is also being produced by GMMTV, a company well-known for its stake in the BL genre, and it follows the logistical style of a 12-episode limited series.

But in several other ways, the show is in direct opposition to many of the components of BL. Some may not be intentional, or hard and fast "rules," but they occur so often that they are undeniably associated with BL as a genre.

As mentioned above, two of the lead couples are official pairings, but the other isn't. In fact, Neo and Mark both auditioned for their roles in Only Friends, and Director Jojo Tichakorn has spoken about his intention in casting them: to divert the expectation of clear masculine/feminine and top/bottom roles in queer relationships. The "seme" and "uke" trope, designating who gives and receives sexually (and usually indicating personality and relationship dynamics), has been pervasive in BL. It panders to the homophobic notion that queer relationships must still follow heteronormative standards. With NeoMark - and, as I believe, with all of the relationships in the series - Jojo will subvert that standard.

Also, Only Friends has a not insignificant amount of openly queer people writing, directing, etc. for the show. This certainly isn't the first time this has happened, but since BL began as a genre made by women and for women, Only Friends seems determined to be a series by queer people and for queer people.

And, because we've already established genre is not black and white, there are other aspects of Only Friends that blur the lines of its BL status. Only Friends seems to be much darker, grittier, and realistic the typical dramedy BL. We already know we will see smoking, drug use, sex, cheating, and according to Jojo, this is only scratching the surface. But, of course, the BL genre has evolved as of late, giving us shows like KinnPorsche, which also delve into such topics. So, while BL is largely more comedic and lighthearted, a darker series still can fit the genre.

Of course, there are many other characteristics of BL that Only Friends exhibits and opposes - I could be here forever if I wanted to list every single one, but we have less than a week until episode one, and personally, I want to watch the trailer a thousand more times before Saturday. So hopefully these examples gave you enough of an idea that Only Friends sort of straddles the line of BL (but also that BL itself is incredibly difficult to define, especially as it continues to evolve).

What about the LGBTQ+ genre - can Only Friends better be defined by this? Likely, yes, but my answer is so because the LGBTQ+ genre itself is even vaguer than BL.

(Some even argue that it isn't a genre at all. That's a post for another time.)

Shows labeled as LGBTQ+ are often done so because of a few defining characteristics, usually occurring at the same time: the show features LGBTQ+ characters, depicts LGBTQ+ themes (coming-of-age, acceptance, found family, etc), and is broadly accepted as such by the queer community. Only Friends certainly does the first two, but the third might be a bit trickier than it seems. With the divide between the LGBTQ+ and BL genres, some audiences will argue it fits one over the other.

And perhaps there are some important differences: the LGBTQ+ genre exists on an international scale, with media added to the queer canon from all over the world. Comparatively, I'm not sure I can think of a show outside of Asia that has been labeled as a BL. The LGBTQ+ genre does tend to be more diverse in gender and sexuality than the typical gay male leads in BL, too - BL does stand specifically for Boys' Love while LGBTQ+ encompasses any form of queerness.

But if we're focusing on these standards, I think Only Friends checks these boxes as well. The show seems to clearly be a test for a less conservative international market. And it is more diverse than just gay male leads; Namchueam is sapphic, Jojo has indicated that Ray is bisexual, and Yo is played by Jennie, a trans woman. Sure, there can always be more diversity, but this is absolutely a step forward compared to past, and many current, GMMTV series.

After positioning Only Friends next to the BL genre, then the LGBTQ+ genre, I would love to be able to make a judgment and wrap this all up in a neat little bow.

Actually, that's a lie. I don't want to do that - I am the complicated film theorist I was talking about before. So, it's a good thing I can't, isn't it?

Ultimately, Only Friends is a show that is here to break boundaries, to subvert expectations, to give us something we've never seen before in Thai, or maybe even international, entertainment. It would be an injustice to the series to try to put it in a box, to ignore its little nuances out of convenience.

It doesn't matter whether Only Friends is a BL or LGBTQ+ drama. We should be looking at the show holistically, taking it in as it is rather than through the lens of the things we come to expect from a specific genre. Genre can be useful, yes, but we can't get too held up on applying it where it may not be productive.

And yet (plot twist!), it sort of... does matter? It matters, not in the sense of changing what the show is, but changing the way we perceive and discuss it. The implications that come with a BL series are different than those of an LGBTQ+ series, even though both genres are difficult to define and are ever-changing.

The conversations we have about how innovative Only Friends is, its place in Asian versus international culture, whether it can be considered a success or not, if it's "good" representation and who gets to decide that... all of that is a product of the genre we label a series with. And I'm not really here to argue whether that is a good or a bad thing; like I said, genre can be useful, and fun - there's a reason specific genres remain popular! What I hope this post sparks is external and internal conversation about why we label, and how that might do a service and/or disservice to the media we engage with. Think about the way that you, personally, want to interact with Only Friends and shows like it, accept it, and then challenge it.

#thai bl #firstkhao #forcebook #neomark #only friends #only friends series #gmmtv

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #60: The Old Guard, but make it Percy Jackson

I was not intending on falling headfirst into another fandom. Nor was I intending to come up with another crazy PJO crossover that somehow manages not to be crack, but I discovered The Old Guard last weekend and this is the end result.

Or: What if, post-movie, the Guard decided to lay low at the one place Merrick's people could never find them: Camp Half-Blood?

Bear with me:

For most of history, "the cradle of western civilization" has been in Europe, as befitting a throughly European idea. But Europe is a big place - and even bigger when you don't have modern transportation to fall back on. A common rule of thumb for medieval travel goes something like 1 day sailing = 7 days on horseback = 21 days walking.

Plus sending satyrs to scope out likely schools is a lovely idea in an era with compulsory public education, but less likely to work in an era where even universities are few on the ground.

All that being said, I imagine it would have been ridiculously easy for demigods to slip through the cracks and never make their way to CHB or CJ, not once suspecting they were anything other than fully human. This is especially true of demigods without spectacular active powers like creating hurricanes or summoning the dead.

As there's no canonical reason why the members of the Old Guard are immortal, there's no reason they can't be demigods who slipped through the cracks, died, and became immortal because of their divine ancestry. It's a rare quirk of genetics that shows up only in 1 in a 10,000 demigods, most often in those who lack any active powers and show only the passive traits of their divine parent - and, therefore, have no idea that they're demigods at all until much, much later in the game.

For the purposes of this fic: Quỳnh and Lykon are descended from southeast asian and subsaharan pantheons of which modern historians have only limited knowledge. Andy is the daughter of Dyḗus, the PIE sky god considered to be equivalent to Zeus, and thus is something like Zeus' stepdaughter. Nicky is the only child of Neptune born in the last two millennia, Joe the son of Apollo in his Greek incarnation, and Nile the daughter of Mars. I went back and forth for possible divine parents for Booker, but ultimately decided to make him a son of Dionysus in this AU. None of them exhibit anything that might be called a power, but have certain talents and personality traits that mark them distinctly as of divine descent.

Just imagine it:

Following Merrick, the Guard needs to lay low. They have many safe houses but no way of knowing how many are compromised. In the end, they decide to go to the one place Merrick can be assured not to find them: Camp Half-Blood.

They get halfway to Ramsgate before realizing the UK probably no longer counts as "the cradle of Western civilization". With a little bit of divine intervention, they find their way to Long Island.

CHB is not unused to people showing up bloody on their doorstep, but most campers have never seen one adult demigod, let alone five. The fact that two of them are Roman and one predates Zeus himself is startling, as I picture this happening in the summer immediately after TLO, before Hera kidnaps Percy.

There's some tension, partly because of the Greek/Roman thing, partly because some campers are bitter these well-trained adults didn't show up to help during the Battle of the Labyrinth/Battle of Manhattan. (The answer - that they just didn't know Kronos was rising - doesn't help much, but the masterclasses they give on various fighting techniques do.)

Percy spends more time at CHB during the next few months than he ever has - after all, who knows when he'll next get to see a non-monstrous half-brother? Nicky may be the son of his father's Roman incarnation - the only one born since Sextus Pompeius to hear him tell it - but he's still family. An ideal big brother really. This does not keep Percy from being kidnapped or the events of HOO from happening, but it does mean there are more people keeping an eye out for him, and when the Argo II runs into trouble in Europe a few people they can call for backup.

But otherwise I have very little plot for this and a lot of scenes of a long few months where CHB and the Guard interact, but then largely go their separate ways until the kids need to phone a friend. This includes: 1) Booker spending a lot of time with his father and remaining half-brother, which gives him both family and the therapist he needs. It's not a magical fix-all, but it starts the path of healing; 2) Nile freaking out over the demigod thing as well as the immortality, but finds comfort in her Ares half-siblings, and generally realizing that while she may have lost her mortal family she never has to be alone, even if she decides being a member of an immortal army isn't for her; 3) Andy teaching all the children all the weapons, because as much as he hates baby demigods having to fight she'd rather teach them how to survive than turn a blind eye to it; and 4) Percy worrying Nicky and Joe are camping out in a cave on the edge of camp because they've been made to feel unwelcome because of the Roman/gay/immortal thing, only to turn permanently red after they kindly explain to him why two adults in a loving relationship might want space for themselves after a traumatic event.

Bonuses include: 1) At least one long digression on how one goes from killing each other multiple times outside the gates of Jerusalem to immortal husbands who are still in the honeymoon stage after 97 decades. This should include a lot of digression on what it takes to have a healthy relationship of any sort, among other related subjects, and hopefully highlight the line between healthy desire to spend one's lives together and unhealthy codependence enough so that MoA's judo throw is avoided; 2) The drama of at least one divine parent beyond Dionysus appearing on scene at some point. Extra bonus points if it's Neptune, who honestly hasn't realized he fathered a demigod child in the last two thousand years. Extra extra bonus points if it's curmudgeonly victorian fisherman Neptune; and 3) Percy upon finding out about Quỳnh immediately offering to go out to Dogger Bank and ask the marine life about a woman in an iron coffin.

And that's it really - not a lot of plot, just a lot of disconnected scenes. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #the old guard #percy jackson and the olympians #tog #pjo #heroes of olympus #hoo #andromache the scythian #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #immortal husbands #sebastian le livre #nile freeman #percy jackson #crossover #percy x annabeth #yusuf x nicolo #joe x nicky

[ohblackdiamond]

Number 7 for the KISS asks, please?

absolutely! thank you!

7. What you dislike about each member?

woo, boy...

paul --paul is actually a buzzard. paul is defensive, needy, incredibly self-conscious, incredibly self-pitying, and an absolute master at driving people away. he has retained a level of bitterness against people he hasn't worked with in two or more decades that is nothing short of spectacular. paul will rework himself to whatever he thinks john q. public wants, because he doesn't like who he actually is offstage.

gene --gene's arrogance is not entirely a put-on. gene will say anything and do anything to get attention. gene's constant cheating on girlfriends and his attitude towards women in general is reprehensible. gene is unsympathetic to others and views or has viewed addiction and mental problems as character failings while excusing his own serious issues with infidelity/using women as a "what do you expect" rockstar schtick. additionally, i would not go into business with gene for all the tea in china.

peter --peter has created or exacerbated a whole lot of his own unhappiness. peter is hotheaded and probably a gigantic pain to deal with/work with, even now. peter is very unforgiving. peter makes or has made very poor financial and career moves and really spent those fifteen years post his first kiss firing talking about stuff he was doing rather than actually doing too much of anything (tiny handful of albums that went nowhere, that he didn't even try to promote, tiny handful of bands that for the most part, other than criss, never even played!), while continuing for a number of years to receive a cut from a band he was no longer in, per contractual obligations (i'm not saying he should've noped out of it, but it's very easy to see where paul's resentment of him comes from).

ace --ace has wasted so, so much potential that it's unfathomable. he has never been willing to strike while the iron is hot, to his eternal detriment. he has set fire to decades of his life via rampant addiction-- yes, he's clean now, and i'm proud of him for it, but the damage he did to himself and his relationships with family and friends is not necessarily repairable. ace also overrates himself and has proven willing to do slimy things for the almighty dollar (selling out peter and the empty threats re: gene and paul).

eric carr --as someone who has my own issues with insecurity, i could see where eric's issues there could get old to deal with very, very fast. i get his frustrations with the band/gene and paul, but i don't think he went about things in the right way. i think he played off of gene and paul too much-- i think had he been more accepting of his hired gun role, things might have played out a little differently. i think he could've gotten hired/more creative control in a different band in the mid-eighties and been happier.

vinnie --CREATURESFEST. i was there.

mark --... is there anyone besides peter criss who can corroborate accusation against him? just curious. i'm not sure why this one is believed so wholeheartedly when i've never heard it from anyone else (and when the fandom as a whole is pretty particular on what negative accusations are believed about the band). if it's true, then yeah, that's more than reason enough for him to be scum, but if it's not, then it's hard for me to really find something to dislike about him-- he was in the band for a grand total of one album and about three shows.

bruce --bruce is... staid. you know what you're getting with bruce. but where is the fun with bruce? bruce is not going to do anything unexpected. bruce's hair is nice, bruce's guitar is in tune, and bruce is going to let paul skid/slide under him and play guitar on his back so he can have all the attention during a solo, because bruce is just that guy.

also bruce's serious fetish for stockings is not something i ever needed to know about him and i resent him for publicizing it. thank you, @bangbangyou

eric singer --eric is wasted in kiss like f. scott fitzgerald was wasted in hollywood. it's like watching scott joplin play chopsticks.

tommy --see bruce's section. tommy is just not fun. there are no surprises with tommy. he'll shoot the rockets. he'll do the backbends. but a deer is never going to fall in tommy's pool and drown, causing him to nearly be late for a show. it's consistent. it's also mildly depressing.

#kiss the band #ask meme #paul stanley #peter criss #ace frehley #gene simmons #eric carr #bruce kulick #vinnie vincent #eric singer #tommy thayer #mark st. john

[sparxwrites]

Gods in the Shopping District

[ao3]

“Hey Impulse!” calls Pearl, moments before swooping down to a stop next to Impulse. He’s perched atop a tree overlooking the shopping district, with an odd expression on his face, watching– something, not quite on the horizon. “How you doing? What’s up?”

Impulse pulls his gaze away from the four little dots in the distance, visibly distracted. He shakes himself, like a wet dog, and the absent look in his eyes clears a little. “Oh, hey Pearl! Just, y’know. Waiting for the shopping district to clear.” At Pearl’s questioning eyebrow, he adds, “Doc’s showing gods around the server again.”

Pearl thinks he’s joking.

“You’re joking,” she says.

He’s not joking.

The two of them stand there for a while, in their tree, in silence. Together, they watch the tiny shapes wheeling back and forth in the air, halfway to the misty horizon. It’s a pretty sight, but not anything out of the ordinary. There’s a bunch of players on the server who can fly like that. Who do fly like that, regularly.

Grian, for starters. Showoff.

Pearl says as much. “They don’t look much like gods,” she says – and then one of them turns, elytra catching the paleish glare of the early morning sun, and she wants to swallow her words.

The wings are a deep red, almost the colour of blood, but more than, somehow. More vibrant than any colour she’s seen before. Too vibrant to be real. Etched down the centre of each are a string of curling, pearl-white runes. Something about the curlicues of them sets her teeth to vibrating. Her molars feel, momentarily, like they’re trying to wrench free of her jawbones.

“...Never mind. yeah. that’s. Oof.”

“Never seen a dev before?” asks Impulse, grinning at her. “The teeth thing, right?” She nods. “Yeah, they do that. It’s fine, it goes away after a bit. That’s about the worst of it, too. As long as you keep your distance, anyway. You’ll be fine”

They watch the devs for another minute. One peels off to go look at Cleo’s tree. The other appears to get lost, and starts doing aimless laps in the sky, before flying directly at False’s bean can. They nearly collide with it. They avoid death by a narrow inch, in a spectacular display of incompetence.

If gods can even die, that is. Pearl doesn’t ask about that. She’s not sure she wants to know.

“Didn’t one of them take his arm?” asks Pearl, after a moment, voice deceptively light and conversational. Her teeth have settled, but now every hair on her body feels like it’s trying to stand on end. It’s not a pleasant sensation. “The devs, I mean. Seems weird to invite back someone who took your arm.

“Oh, no. That was a different one to this lot, I think. Din– Dinner-something? Uh. Something about bones? Dinnerboner? …Wait. No–”

Pear bursts into peals of immature laughter. Impulse goes pink – across his bearded cheeks and solid nose, right up to the tips of his ears – and covers his face with one hand.

“How many gods does he know?” Pearl asks, eventually, when she gets her giggles under control.

“Uhh…?” Impulse, less pink now, scratches thoughtfully at his beard and squints into the middle distance. “Quite a lot of them, at this point. Most, maybe? Most of the major ones, the proper ones, I think, like the devs and stuff. But then, he’s friendly with the Scicraft lot, so that kind of comes with the territory.” Pearl gives him yet another bewildered look. “Oh, they’re, uh. They’re like… Uhh… Oh, gosh. What’s the word. What’s like a god, but less powerful?”

“…An admin?”

Impulse pulls a face. She can tell he’s thinking of X, who – though they both love him dearly – is about as far from a god as it gets. “Uh. Bit higher up the food chain than that, maybe.”

“Saint? Prophet?”

“Prophet! Yeah, that works. They’re like– whatever the opposite of a prophet is. Anti-prophets?” At Pearl’s wrinkle-nosed frown of confusion, he sighs. “Look. The devs build and maintain the universe, right? They create and control the source code–”

“–and the server beasts?”

“What? No, that’s– um. I don’t know where the sever beasts come from, actually. Haha. I don’t think it’s the devs, though. You’d have to ask an admin about that, or something. Or Doc. …Not Joe, though. Don’t ask Joe about server beasts.”

“Why not?”

Impulse gives her a Look, which Pearl roughly translates as have you even met Joe Hills. “I mean. If you’ve got most of a day, and most of your sanity, to spare, then go right ahead.”

“Point taken.”

“Anyway. The devs are the font of the source code, and Scicraft… I guess they’re a group people who– well, pick it apart, I guess. They do a lot of crazy technical redstone stuff that kind of defies the laws of code – like Doc, but it’s a whole world of them – but they also find bugs, glitches, exploits. Stuff that lets you do item duping, or item teleporting, or putting water in the Nether, that sort of thing. They just do it for funsies, I think. But its enough that the devs keep an eye on them. Kind of useful to have a group whose purpose in life is finding your mistakes, I guess, y’know?”

“And Doc… knows them?”

“He says he’s– friends with them. Not sure if that means he used to be one of them, or still is, or if they’re just. You know. Genuine friends. They help each other out a bit, though, so…”

He doesn’t need to finish. Pearl can draw her own conclusions from that.

In the distance, one of the devs hits the ground too hard, and vanishes in a shower of off-white light and items. Both her and Impulse’s communicators ping. Pearl snorts. That answers the question of whether gods can die, pretty conclusively, in perhaps the funniest way possible. She’s glad she hadn’t asked, before..

“We could go get a closer look,” she says eventually. “Maybe even talk to them. Looks like there’s another Hermit with them, anyway, so…”

Impulse’s expression– shutters. His smile fades. “I just wouldn’t get too close.”

“Who’s that with them, then?” asks Pearl, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can’t be too dangerous if there’s someone else there.”

“It’s Cub,” says Impulse, “but he’s– y’know, Cub. Same as Doc. Not got a great nose for danger. Probably up for losing an arm, if he learns something interesting out of it.”

“…I don’t want to lose an arm.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Impulse grins, and nudges her in the ribs, gently, with his elbow. “Which is why we’re over here, and they’re over there.”

“Point taken. Again.”

She’s not sure how long they stand there, on top of the tree, watching the devs circling and wheeling. The buzzing in her teeth keeps coming back, every time she catches a glimpse of those wings. The hair on the back of her arms refuses to lie down. She swears the hair on her head is trying to defy gravity.

Eventually, the devs – and Doc, and Cub – leave. The distant figures cease their banking back and forth above the buildings of the shopping district, and head away, off over to the horizon and beyond. Pearl’s hair, thankfully, finally, stops attempting to remove itself from its follicles.

“Well!” says Impulse, cheerily, as though they haven’t just been witness to something few players ever get to see in a lifetime – in a thousand lifetimes, a thousand thousand lifetimes. “That was exciting. Glad they cleared out, though, I need to stock up on some materials before I can get started with building for the day. Thought I was going to end up a day behind schedule! Anyway. Shall we…?” He gestures, with a little half-bow, towards the now-godless shopping district.

“Yeah,” says Pearl, quietly. Her teeth, no longer trying to escape her gums, still ache ever so slightly. “Let’s.”

#impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #hermitfic #hermits crafting #fic #yes this is many many months after the actual event of there being devs on the server #don't fucking @ me #i've been busy :( #also yes i am STILL on my server beast agenda #yes i still have not explained this properly #i need to do a worldbuilding post for my weird minecraft religion stuff sometime soon