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#it feels shit knowing how i enjoyed drawing this and then posting it and people say oh its fucking shit
koko2unite · 5 months
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eyrieofsynapses · 4 months
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why Aurora's art is genius
It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.
And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.
I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.
SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???
All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3
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I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!
Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.
Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.
THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)
Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:
Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:
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Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.
I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.
If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!
Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:
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Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.
A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):
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(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)
The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—
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—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.
(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)
Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!
One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!
And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—
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—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)
Additionally, the misting here:
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We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.
A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).
Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):
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First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:
The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.
The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.
The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.
A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:
The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)
The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart
The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand
The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)
I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.
Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:
Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.
Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)
And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.
Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.
Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):
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It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:
Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.
And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.
One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.
A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.
Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?
Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):
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The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:
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What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P
Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):
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They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.
Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.
And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3
...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.
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heylinfanclub · 2 years
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People who agree DNI hfksks
Someone: this thing is my original species do not steal
Thing: normal animal mixed with fantasy animal (not even vastly different creatures).
Jfkdksndn
#me.#(very beautiful work nobody should steal the direct Art you made#(ideas shouldn’t be ‘I thought of it so ONLY I can benefit from it’#(do you know how much anxiety I experience in my life due to fear of being unoriginal ?#(originality don’t fuckin matter and shouldn’t in the world of art#(I have since the age of 12 taken ideas from other content my entire life—#(ideas like ‘vampires who sparkle’ into ‘lots of dif kinds of vampires in my headworld’#(like sorry op who set this off but I have a PHILOSOPHICAL DISAGREEMENT#(so while I’d do what ya said if ya asked me I sure ain’t gonna not think about it for hours#(like my headworld hAS INSECT DRAGONS AND GIANT MAGIC TOADS AND LITERAL WOLF SPIDERS#(I think the issue wraps around to the fact we live in a capitalist society and owning is the only way you can feel good about your art#(is to commodify it. nobody can just enjoy their art in private anymore.#(art is like. a piece of yourself though. so I get the sensitivity I guess#(but like damn. i get it for an emotional piece. maybe something deeply meaningful in context—-#(closed species are bullshit though and I will draw them in fact because I do not give a shit#(tbh I could just have some kind of defiance disorder but idk if those are real disorders or capitalism being like ‘oh you defy? you crazy’#(idk just my whole life I’ve always been pissed off by rules that make no sense to me#(it’s not the person it’s just me and my little mental illness#(PEOPLE WHO DISAGREE WHO ARENT SECRETLY THE POST IM TALKIN BOUT—-#(tell me why telling a bunch of noncommercial strangers not to repurpose an idea is okay#(and then you pOST IT ONLINE FOR A BUNCH OF STRANGERS TO SEEE#(sure some of them will be idiots and post ‘well I’m gonna anyway’#(but like. SO MANY PEOPLE JUST ARENT GONNA LISTEN AND YOULL NEVER KNOW?#(so why bother?#(maybe I’m struggling cause of trauma and boundaries again pOTENTIALLY#(or I could just be a rude lil idiot always potential there!#(well less ‘I am rude’ more ‘I am doing a rude thing’. remember folks. don’t identify with ur worst behaviors. just change em.
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Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1
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RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.
(Y/N) - Your name.
NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!
Word count: 2.5k
Part 2
Masterlist
October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.
That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.
You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).
One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.
“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.
“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”
“Please!”
Stab.
“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”
Stab.
“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”
The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.
“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.
“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.
“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.
“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.
For now.
Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.
“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”
How fucking dare he.
How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.
For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.
He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?
They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.
Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”
Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.
“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.
“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.
“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.
Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.
Something was off.
Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.
Your phone started to ring.
Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
No answer.
You left out a huff and tried again.
“Hellooo?”
When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.
“I think you got the wrong numb-“
“Wanna play a game?”
“I’m-I’m sorry?”
“I said, wanna play a game?”
“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”
“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.
“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.
“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”
Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.
“Warmer.”
Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.
“Colder.”
You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.
“Hotter.”
You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.
“Hotter.”
You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.
“You're on fucking fire baby.”
Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.
“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.
You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.
“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.
“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.
You black out.
“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.
“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.
451 notes · View notes
etfrin · 6 months
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⤷❝NSFW Alphabets | Ethan Landry❞ ┈• ˎˊ-
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GF! Ethan Landry x fem! Reader
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masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune
A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
— he is often too tired after the act so it's just cuddles, if the sex is hardcore or involves kinks (like knife play) then no matter what he will always makes sure you're clean by drawing you a bath and helping you and then cuddles with your ass the entire night while whispering praises about how good you are.
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
— his favorite are his hands because he gets to hold you. He likes you in his arms. He is a hugger. His love language is acts of service and definitely physical touch.
For you though, definitely your hips and thighs.
He likes to keep a hand on your hips at all times in public letting people know subtly you're taken. And he absolutely loves how you crush his head with your thighs while he is eating you out. Definitely places a shit ton of hickeys on your inner thighs to make you even more wet and because you look so pretty with love bites.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
— he likes to cum in you, he loves to watch his cum fall out of you. It's an obscene sight and it makes him hard. He goes feral about it, cumming in you again and again until you have a small bulge in your tummy. He doesn't even realize he's breeding you like a bitch in heat would.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
— ethan's dirty secret is how much he gets turned on by seeing you scared or crying. The man definitely dresses up as Ghostface and calls you to scare the shit out of you and then fucks you (as himself) reassuringly afterwards because he's gonna protect from everything bad, no one can ever hurt as long as he's there.
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
— at first no, he was a virgin before you. But he actually researches (watching porn) for you and tries out new things. He is eager so he learns quickly enough.
F= Favorite position
— riding or missionary. Easy and quick explanation is that he likes to see you, your expressions and reactions. He has low self esteem so seeing you enjoying yourself helps heighten his confidence and his pleasure.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
— at first he's so awkward. So fucking awkward. He has no clue what he is doing and everything he does is clumsy and unsure. So you get plenty of laughs out of teasing him and helping him learn but further along the line it's a bit more serious.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
— he makes sure to regularly trim and yes, the carpet definitely matches the drapes.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
�� it definitely depends on the day. Most of the time he is sweet, gentle and caring. But if it's a bad day, if he had a shitty day, do not doubt. He will use you, forget the fact that you're his lover. You're a toy for him. He will manhandle you, give your body bruises and be so so fucking rough with his thrusts. At that moment he doesn't care about you, you're not even on his mind, he just needs to feel better by using you.
(After he calms down though, he starts crying because he thinks you'll leave him and you'll be like that's the best orgasm I ever had, Ethan STFU, it's me I am you)
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
— he won't ever try to force you if you're not in the mood so he does jack off a lot. Especially in the beginning of the relationship he would have screenshots of your Instagram posts and would definitely jack off to those and from listening to your voicemails. Sometimes if he got too desperate he would call you while jacking off just so your voice can send him over the edge and you don't even realize it.
A few months into the relationship, he still jacks off, usually it's now with phone sex and sexting and he steals your panties and buys new ones to make up.
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
— KNIFE PLAY, HE IS GHOSTFACE! Breeding kink, doesn't even realize it, just likes to cum in you as much as he can. Overstimulation, it goes hand in hand with breeding. Occasional breath play. He is a switch so likes receiving just as much as he likes giving. Blood play, so you're always satisfied even when you're having your period. Somnophilia, bondage and sometimes predator/prey (only after he reveals the fact he is Ghostface, that he brings this particular kink in, he loves the thrill of it, he gets off on it so bad. Occasional edging, poor boy doesn't wanna cum too soon.)
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
— bedroom. If he's too needy then sometimes he would call you in a closet or somewhere you can do something to quick, just to itch the need before you can have some time alone for a proper thorough fuck.
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
— you breathing. No, honestly, anything you do would turn him on. Kissing his cheek. Wearing his clothes. Calling him yours. Yea, he is an easy one. What absolutely ruins him though is when you wear his clothes or when you're on his lap and when you're smiling at him so sweetly and when you're teasing him, you're being a bit mean he thinks but his dick definitely doesn't think the same.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
— watersports. He is open to try several things with you, but anything with other body fluids except cum and blood, that's a straight no.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
— he was made to eat cunt, HAVE YOU SEEN THOSE LIPS? He is so so good at it. He is a pussy drunk boy. If he could die while eating you out, he would die happy. He is so fucking filthy and messy while eating you out. It gives him pleasure, having your cum smeared all over his face. His tongue flickering and swirling along your folds, his mouth sucking on your clit. He makes sure to tongue fuck you as much as possible. He devours your pussy like it's his last meal before an execution. (just fucking makes out with it. he likes to kiss your pussy more than you. i said what i said.)
He can't control himself during a blowjob. His mind is too fuzzy with pleasure that he just has to make you take his cock deeper. He grips your hair, it's gentle at first, just to keep him grounded before he's like fuck, fuck, I can't control myself anymore and the grip gets tighter as he holds in place while he fucks your throat.
(he again apologies after cumming in your mouth, and for fucking your throat without a warning, he just can't control himself, he is sorry, not)
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
— depends on the day. Most of the time it's slow and languid, he's making sure that you feel every inch of his cock. He's making sure his cock memorizes every pleasure spot of your inner walls.
However there are times he is a needy fuck, so he is humping you, pounding into your wet cunt without a care. And on the days when you're nothing more than a toy, the pace varies A LOT. It can be either incredibly slow or fast. There's no in between, this is one of those times he edges himself, taking hours before either of you cum.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
— if you guys have time then he uses the time to its fullest but even when the time is less than he would still take his time, fuck whatever it doesn't matter. Morning classes? He'll burrow someone's note, fucking you is a much higher priority than anything. So there's rarely quickes happening in your relationship.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
— Yes, again, he's open to experimenting. Anything to make his partner happy.
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
— he is a serial killer so he has a killer stamina (that's such a cringe joke, i apologize) so multiple rounds definitely, and sometimes he's still fucking you until the sun rises (there are breaks between each round, a shower break, drinking, something to eat, but it doesn't take long before he just wants you again, he just needs you so much and sex is such an intimate way of being close to you.)
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
— no, not often. He has his mouth, cock and fingers. He wouldn't show it but he would be offended if you ever bring toys in the bedroom. Use your vibrator when you're alone, the only thing you can cum on with when he's around is with his cock.
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
— he does take a lot of time in foreplay only because he loves to make sure your pussy is slick for him. He doesn't take well to teasing or likes to tease during sex.
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
— ethan is loud. I would fight people on this. Ethan whines, whimpers, groans and moans. Every single sound that is possible is made by this man. He loves to praise you, he gives you such compliments, (God, you're taking me so well, darling. I can't- shit, your pussy is so wet and warm ahh! Fuck, love), worships you with words. He just can't stop talking about how good it feels and how grateful he is that he has you. Even when he is rough he doesn't degrade you. He just can't :)
W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)
— would be into pegging. he's such a cute bottom too, he was so nervous the first time, only to beg if he could cum within minutes you started fucking his ass with your strap on.
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
— average length, but thick. His cock stretches your walls out deliciously.
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
— high. He waited for years to lose his virginity. He has a lot of pent up need and now that he has you? He doesn't hold back at all.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
— usually right after, unless the sex involved something hardcore or kinky then he would take a shower with you first to relax before going to sleep with you in his arms.
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was i over self indulgent? perhaps but it's all canon i swear <33
413 notes · View notes
proxima-writes · 11 months
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title: stranger than a stranger
pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 4964
summary:
When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.
author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!
content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!
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You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.
Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.
“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”
“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles. 
“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies. 
You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts. 
“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”
You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.
“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.
You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”
“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”
With another nod, you part ways. 
You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.
________
Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.
Too bad Joel is the predator here.
He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.
Good.
Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.
It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.
He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine. 
The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.
The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.
He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.
The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.
“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“
He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body. 
Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.
Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.
Just like he wanted.
________
You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.
In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you. 
“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.
The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”
“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”
“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.
“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.
“‘Fraid so.”
You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more. 
“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”
“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”
You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”
Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?
“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.
“The name’s Joel.”
________
It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.
“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”
You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.
You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.
What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend. 
It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.
Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can. 
“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.
You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.
Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.
You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.
________
Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.
You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.
“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options. 
He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.
“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”
Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag. 
A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.
A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.
Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.
“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks. 
Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale. 
The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest. 
The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.
Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.
“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request. 
Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage. 
“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.
“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts. 
You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.
“Come help, then.”
________
Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.
You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come. 
Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.
“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”
Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.
“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”
You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.
“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”
“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside. 
With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.
________
You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does. 
It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.
“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”
You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.
Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.
“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.
“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.” 
You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.
“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”
You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear. 
“Those, too,” Joel says. 
“Why?”
“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”
Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.
You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.
“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room. 
Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.
________
Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.
“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.
You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you. 
With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.
Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.
You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you. 
Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.
Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly. 
He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.
Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”
His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught. 
“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.
“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.
“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”
“W-what?” 
He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.
“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”
Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.
The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.
He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”
You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.
“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.
“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him. 
“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours. 
You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?
You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.
“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.
You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts. 
You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.
_______
You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.
You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.
You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice. 
Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?
The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place. 
You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.
Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist
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kaceythecrunch · 2 months
Text
RANT. (sturntok.)
Yall. Im so mad. Sturntok pisses me the fuck off to the point it isn't even funny anymore. This might be messy, so bare with me.
Tara. Why the fuck is everyone pressed about Tara hanging out with the triplet, specifically matt and Chris. Yall are acting as if it was only two of them, like they're on a date. They were with fucking I don't know, 8 other people? Like why does Sturntok care who they hangout with? Did you not learn from elementary school to mind your bees wax, or business? You're probably 15. They're literally 5 years older than you. There is no way, in any universe they're gonna date you girl. ALSO TO SHIT ON TARA?? LIKE GIRL. FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO SHIT ON CUZ HOMEGIRL DONT CARE. SHE DONT CARE. SHE IS STRIVING AND LIVING LIFE LIKE YOU SHOULD GIRL. Live life and don't care. You'll probably have a positive outcome. No cuz y'all know how Chris owns the Saturn necklace thing? Its vivienne underwood. It's less than 20 bucks on Amazon. Also when was the last time y'all saw Chris wearing that necklace girl. Also there's a post from like months, or I think a year ago of Tara wearing the same necklace. These fucking tiktok girls are so annoying. Like we get it, everyone wants to be Tara. (she's my gf.)
Podcast. I saw a bunch of btiches shit on the podcast. Like cmon. THEY ARE PRODUCING AN HOUR LONG VIDEO FOR YALL EVERY WEEK. Mfs are burnt out, you're lucky that they even produce content for you ungreatful hoes. Like lwk, I'd rather have them remove Wednesday videos. I remember when they first started their podcast that they were really excited to start and stuff. I also remember, I believe it was their earlier vlogs. When they were still living in Boston and they haven't like went to LA yet, they were talking about turning their basement into a podcast room. Like cmon. This is something they've been wanting to do and you hoes just don't appreciate anything. Like have y'all's mama's not been pissed at y'all for not appreciating her food. Live life positive and not negative tf. But ofc, I respect their decision.
Intro. Yall just love to shit on everyone. Ruining the party. Sturntok reminds me of the kids-the class "clowns" who would be so shitty to the teacher for no reason and would ruin fun things for everyone. Like guys, I think we should all as a community bully Sturntok. It requires a bit more bullying, just to knock some sense into their heads. Anyways, back to what I was ranting about. I loved their new intro. its a new era. A new them. Change. Is. Fucking. hard. I understand that you love the teens from Boston running around making fools of themselves. Me too, I shall admit it. But in order to get sponsorships, to get the little paring things. (For example, them sponsoring Celsius, even becoming the youtooz thing.) Like they gotta act more professional.
Change. This tied in with the last few things. CHANGE IS HARD. CHANGE IS A DIFFICULT THING. But how the fuck are you gonna live life, and enjoy life when your stuck on one thing forever. Change is needed for growth, and for learning. Like guys, THEYRE 20. I think that's something y'all forget. They aren't teenagers anymore. Its kinda like how when everyone went into middle school and started to not like kiddy things when you still liked kiddy things. When I was in middle school I still like to play with Legos, draw, watch anime. Until I hit 7th grade, aka everyone's downfall. I still enjoy some of those things today but I changed because people in middle school stopped like those things and its embarrassing (well for me at least) to show up in school with anime shirts cuz I'm getting older. Thats what they're feeling I guess. Again, theyre 20 now.
Crazy ass mfs. Crazy, as in them soft mf's on sturntok. Also what pisses me off more is that they're coming here on tumblr. Like no, I know your soft ass belongs on Wattpad bffr. I have a long rant about this one, so bare with me again. They are so so so so so SOOOOO sensitive about the "spicy edits." Sometimes the fucking video frame isn't even about something "spicy" aka- them being shirtless, video frame near their crotch. It was when there was a song about sex. How soft can you be. Most songs these days are about sex. Some songs y'all probably didn't know about was about sex. (cake by the ocean for example.) LIKE LETS ME FOR REAL. MOST SONGS ARE ABOUT SEX. Also with the tiktok audios being removed like cmon. Not everything is about sunshine and rainbows. I remember I commented on a Chris edit and I was like.
"I need this man in my life. He's so hot."
"you're fucking gross. He's a human being and do you know how grossed out he would be if he saw that you said this? (bullshitbullshit,morebullshitandstupidness.)"
Yeah, keeping fucking running your mouth. THIS TIKTOK HAS LIKE 4K VIEWS. DO YOU WANNA KNOW HOW MUCH FUCKING FOLLOWERS THE TRIPLETS HAVE? YEAH. THAT'S NOT EVEN A QUARTER OF WHAT THEY HAVE. THIS VIDEO HAS 1K COMMENTS. ARE THEY FUCKING HUNTING ME DOWN?? MY COMMENT HAS 3 LIKES. WHY WOULD THEY CARE TO FUCKING CHECK GIRL. ITS ALSO TELLING THE FUCKING PERSON WHO EDITED THIS THAT THIS EDIT WAS FIRE AND THAT THEY MADE THE EDIT HELLA GOOD. UR FUCKING LUCKY I KEPT MY ANGER TO MYSELF CUZ OH GIRL. I WOULD SUCKER PUNCH YOU. You know whats also funny? They're the same people who will be pissed with when they see matt or Chris with a female. Like girl. You're calling me fucking gross? Do you think how much more worse that is than my comment? You ruin friendships. OG sturniolo fans know that they've been friends with girls. If you genuinely care, yall would know that nick made most of matt and chris' friends. Meaning most of them were females. SO OBVIOUSLY THEYRE GONNA HAVE GIRL FRIENDS. I remember watching the Zach sang pod when nick was on and he explained that matt usually doesn't make the friends. Theres a joke where matt says "I'm gonna make a friend that wasn't originally nick's friends." smth like that. Anyways, off topic. Just because they are seen with a girl, doesn't mean they are fucking dating them. Like shut the fuck up. please. Respectfully shut the fuck because I'm a nice person. Also Chris gives off major virgin vibes lets bffr.
Madi. Yall hate so bad on Madi and its fucking grossing me out. Why do you have to ship her with matt and chris??? Literally to the point they can't even put her in photo dumps or videos. You just gotta ruin it for everyone, huh? shes fucking gorgeous, and she's so funny in videos. Plus, when she does talk shes hillarious. She literally reminds me of Matt. She doesn't fucking talk much because she is more of a listener.. Like guys bffr. How can you hate her when she barley spoke in videos. Like respectfully, shut the fuck up. Yall just jealous shes pretty.
Calling Nick fine. I also hate them mfs who are always running their mouth about girls calling Nick fine. Lets bffr. Y'all didn't think a gay guy is fine? I'm sure you've had a crush on one gay person before. And if you haven't trust me. You will. I had a crush on my gay friend in 8th grade. I feel like its a canon even in every girl's life. anyways, I hate when girls will be scared to call nick hot.
"Nick is so fine. But like as a cool guy friend way. Please don't attack me."
POOR GIRL BELIEVES SHE IS GONNA BE ATTACKED IF SHE CALLS A GAY MAN FINE. Sturntok leave her the fuck alone. He's hot as fucking and I will kill civilians if I'm not given more nick edits. He's so fine. Literally the hottest triplet.
If u made it here thanks. There was shit on my chest that I really needed to let out. What have we learned today?
Sturntok can suck my fucking dick.
Thanks goodbye.
Me to Sturntok :
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halfrican-heat · 8 months
Text
Upstanding Gentleman (Ony)
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Onyankopon was raised in a strict Ghanian household. He was pretty strait-laced...until he met you, of course. Still, Ony has many tricks up his sleeve that never fail to surprise you.
A/N: Yes, I'm high. Hello. So, this is the second Ony post I've had lingering in the back of my mind. It's in head cannon format but I think this could be something. Enjoy!
Warning(s): Explicit Sexual Content; Depictions of smoking marijuana; Penetrative Sex (p in v), Oral Sex (M receiving), Sex in childhood home, Black reader in mind, N-Word used; AAVE/Dialogue with Dialect
Pairing: Sober!Onyankopon x Stoner!Reader
Inspired by: Lauryn Hill and my bf :)
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Sober!Ony was raised by a single mother who kept him in line. No drugs, no alcohol and he definitely had a curfew.
Straight A student and graduated the top of his class in high school
Spent majority of his childhood playing video games and taking apart old computers his mother would bring home from her teaching job.
Played basketball and practiced frequently with his friends
Loved taking photos and drawing
Only smoked weed once when he was seventeen and felt guilty about it for a week before he told his mom. (She smacked his head but wasn't that mad)
Never had a thing for drinking. His mom let him have some wine during his graduation dinner. His uncle, later that evening, gave him some liquor. Ony wasn't a fan.
Sober!Ony who went to college in a different state-- hours away from his mother.
He chose to go to a school pretty far away from home to study photography. He loved his mom but he felt like he needed a firm separation from his home life and college life.
That's where he met you. This sweet little thing from a town he had never heard of. So cute...
...and yet you smelled like trouble. Ony's suspicions were confirmed when you offered him a blunt in your car one night. Y'all had been talking for a minute at that point but you never gave off stoner vibes.
Ony declined but didn't mind hanging out as long as you rolled the windows down.
Turns out, you were a huge stoner. Bongs, smoking pieces, a stash larger than some of the ones he had seen back home. You weren't a plug, not really, you just really loved weed. You were super smart, too. Ony had known people like you from back home-- motivated stoners who smoked frequently but it didn't impede them getting shit done. You were like that and Ony really liked that about you.
Ony wasn't sure how to proceed at first but...one thing was sure: You had a hold on Onyankopon that he just couldn't deny.
Sober!Ony who, four years into your relationship, isn't super sober anymore.
"Mama, let me get one of them fruity drinks out the fridge." "They got alcohol in 'em Ony," You call from the kitchen. "I ain't ask you all that. They taste alright-- I feel like a classy nigga drinking them." "Okay, Classy Nigga," You say, bringing him one. "Mister Classy Nigga to you," He says, with a wide grin. "Pinkies out, baby."
Sober!Ony who branched out after meeting you but didn't partake as frequently as you did.
"Let me get a hit, baby." "Nigga, you don't smoke!" Ony kisses his teeth, side-eyeing you. "Then do that shit where you kiss me and blow the smoke in my mouth." You laugh loudly, throwing your head back at his nerve. "Okay, baby," You say, sparking up. Afterwards "Shit, where my inhaler at?"
Sober!Ony who made a great impression on your parents. Perhaps too great.
Your dad loves him, speaking highly of him every time your boyfriend comes up in conversation. "That Ony is a fine, upstanding gentleman," Your dad alway says. Little does he know... "What's that, ma?" His voice is husky in your ear as he thrusts into you roughly. His hand is over your mouth as your childhood mattress squeaks under your weight. Ony has you bent over, his pace punishing as he fucks you from behind. Tears streak your face as you helplessly claw at your sheets "Better be quiet," Ony drawls. "Don't want your folks to hear us, right? Or they gonna know what a slut you are for this upstanding gentleman."
Sober!Ony who loves the way you give head while high.
After many extensive and deep discussions about consent, Ony finally lets you give him head. At first, he was chilling. But then... "Shit, baby! Fuck," He groans, his head falling back. "Slow down, ma." You got his cum on your cheek from the first time he came but you don't care. You don't let up, taking his length down your throat. You suck the entire way down, slurping as you pull back to swirl your tongue around his leaking tip. Your tongue runs along the vein underneath his shaft before taking him back in your mouth, hollowing you cheeks as you slurp him down. "Fuck," He hisses, throwing his arm over his face. You had that man's toes curling and all.
Sober!Ony who loves how sexy you are at any given time of any given day but especially loves when you're feeling yourself while off the za.
Now the skies could fall...not even if my boss should call... Your hips sway seductively to the music as you take a pull from the blunt, in your own world. Lauryn Hill blasts from the radio as your lights change colors in a slow fade. Ony stands at the door of your shared bedroom, watching you sing and dance. You turn slowly, finally noticing him. You wordlessly hold out a hand to him with your body still moving to the music. See I don't need the alcohol...your love make me feel 10 feet tall... He takes your hand, pulling your body close to his. His hands trail your body, finding your ass as the two of you grind on one another. Yeah, Ony is gonna take his time with you tonight.
Sober!Ony who loves you as much as you love him despite your differences.
"Papa, you seen my bong?" "Judie?" "No, the other one." "She in the kitchen cabinet, baby."
"Ma, you seen my screwdriver?" "The fuck you doing drinking those?" "Bae...the tool. My tool." "Oh, it's on the counter by the microwave." a moment later "Onyankopon, what the fuck did you do to my damn radio!"
Overall, Sober!Ony who has changed a lot since the two of you got together. As long as you don't give him any cause for concern, he's happy to let you do as you please (and partake when he feels like it). You level each other up in ways no one expected. You're his lady and Ony doesn't want any one else but you.
"C'mere, my lil pothead," He says, cuddling up to you in bed. "Shut up, nigga." "Watch your mouth. Now lemme rub my legs against yours..."
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A/N: I had fun with this. Asks are open!
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meanbossart · 5 months
Note
do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.
BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.
Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao
And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"
And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.
(this got very long so, more under the cut)
Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.
In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.
Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.
And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.
That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.
That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.
I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.
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randomprose · 9 months
Text
now posted on AO3!
Mo Guan Shan is sitting on the kitchen island eating a sandwich when He Cheng walks in. 
He looks up from scrolling through his phone, looking a little startled. 
“Mo Guan Shan,” He Cheng acknowledges with a nod before heading to the fridge. 
“Uh. Hey, boss."
“Where’s He Tian?"
“Still sleepin’,” he shrugs. “Got bored an’ hungry waitin’ for him to wake up.”
He Cheng just hums. His brother has always been one to sleep in late even as a child. 
“Have you eaten?” Mo Guan Shan asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. He looks awkward standing in He Cheng’s kitchen — rarely used, all stainless steel, and state of the art — yet strangely comfortable behind the counter near the stoves. At least before He Cheng came in. This is the most relaxed He Cheng has ever seen him in his house over the years.
He mulls the question over, probably blurted out on impulse. He’s really only here to get a bottle of water. 
“I've had coffee”, was what he said after awhile. He can’t quite remember what time that was. Some time between the early hours of a new day and before the crack of dawn.  
Mo Guan Shan frowns, brows knitted together. The kid is very expressive, He Cheng observes. Easy to draw reaction from. He can see why He Tian loses his shit pushing this kid’s buttons.
“That’s not exactly food.”
“I don’t eat breakfast.” Never had the stomach for it. Just never made sense for him to eat so early in the morning.
“Er. It’s past noon, boss,” Mo Guan Shan somehow feels the need to remind him. He Cheng just stares at him. “Technically it’s lunchtime bordering on…mid-afternoon snack?”
It dawns on He Cheng that, given his answer, this kid wants him to eat something. Mo Guan Shan either has certain manners drilled into him — He Cheng caught him eating when he entered the kitchen so he felt the need to offer him something as well — or he has an inane need to take care of people. Just like He Tian. 
He Cheng supposes that’s a good thing, if a bit of a soft touch — something that has no room in the world he and He Tian live in but is nonetheless welcomed and desired by He Cheng for his brother. He Tian could’ve done so much worse. At least He Cheng knows his brother is eating and taken care of. He swears that kid never knows how to look after himself. 
“If you insist,” He Cheng allows and sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. 
Mo Guan Shan visibly relaxes. Like he’s relieved He Cheng agreed he could cook for him. If he hadn’t ran a thorough background on him he’d think he’s going to try and poison him. Except the kid is terrible at hiding his expressions and controlling his body language and He Cheng has known him since he was in middle school.
“Alright. So, uh, what are you hungry for?”
He Cheng isn’t really hungry for anything, but he does acknowledge that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday and this will only be his first meal of the day. Still, he doesn’t think he can stomach a full meal right now. 
“Just eggs will do.”
“Okay,” Mo Guan Shan nods. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Scrambled,” is all he says. No mention of how he likes it cooked, no preference for seasoning, no specifications of any kind. He Cheng doesn’t really care as long as it's edible and won’t upset his stomach. 
Mo Guan Shan gets to work in silence. He Cheng watches him move and is not at all surprised that he knows his way around, knows where everything is. Qiu mentioned the kid is good in the kitchen, more than a decent cook, and is not above admitting that he enjoys his food despite the disaster that occured the one and only time the kids came over his place and had Mo Guan Shan made them dinner. He Cheng knows this, too. He knows that the kid is apprenticing in a family restaurant and is saving up to go to culinary school. He’s had to drop by He Tian’s place occasionally and was pleasantly surprised that his brother isn’t just subsisting on take-outs if at all.  
But it’s just eggs and He Cheng isn’t really expecting anything. Eggs are just eggs after all.
After just about twenty minutes, Mo Guan Shan puts down a plate of the fluffiest looking scrambled eggs He Cheng has ever been served garnished with spring onions and what seem to be crushed potato chips. He serves it with a glass of orange juice on the side and the whole ensemble looks like it’s been lifted out of a lifestyle cooking magazine. 
He Cheng takes a forkful and lets out a low pleased sound at the back of his throat.
"Good?" Mo Guan Shan asks, a corner of his lips quirked up in quiet satisfaction the way a cook is when they know someone enjoys their food.
"It is." He Cheng maintains that eggs are still just eggs but this really is good. Qiu’s not exaggerating then. 
The eggs are light and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with the melted cheese adding another layer of flavor, and the potato chips give it a good crunch. He’s never even thought of potato chips as anything other than junk food.
"Yeah. Figured you and Tian like your scrambled eggs the same." Mo Guan Shan comments as he sits back down to finish his sandwich. "First time I made it he looked so pissed even though he couldn't stop shovelling eggs in his mouth. Thought he might've hated it and was just eating it to, I don’t know, not hurt my feelings or some shit, but then I heard him curse you under his breath and ask for seconds."
A thought that comes to He Cheng: He Tian eats breakfast and likes his eggs scrambled just like him.
“He hates it, but he's really alike you in a lot of ways, you know.”
Well, of course he is, He Cheng agrees. He practically raised that kid. He Tian’s bound to pick up some of He Cheng’s mannerisms and preferences for certain things whether he likes it or not.
“Coffee? Brewed a new batch.”
“Please.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Just black, thanks.”
“You sure?" Mo Guan Shan asks like he doesn't believe him. 
“I like it as it is.” 
“Huh,” Mo Guan Shan sounds out before shrugging and pouring out two mugs.
This prompts He Cheng to ask, "Does Tian-di not take his coffee black then?"
It occurs to him that he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe there was a time that he did, when He Tian was small and only had him, but He Cheng doesn’t claim that he knows his brother beyond his childhood days. While He Tian seems to come to him more and more these days, their relationship is still rather estranged and not at all conventional, however that may be. 
All He Cheng knows of He Tian is that his brother is of the good sort and that’s enough for him. 
He Tian cares for his friends and cares for Mo Guan Shan in ways He Cheng will probably never understand. He’s better than He Cheng in a lot of ways that matter, more human perhaps, which suits him just fine. He never wanted He Tian to be someone their family has morphed and twisted to suit their needs and use as see fit. He never wanted He Tian to be like him. 
And so He Cheng finds himself indulging in wanting to know the little things that make up his brother. Like how he likes his eggs and how he drinks his coffee.
“He does but I know he hates it. Everytime he drinks it he makes a face like it's poison.” Mo Guan Shan shrugs as he sits down across from him. He hands He Cheng one of the mugs and nurses one himself. “I don't know why he insists on drinking it this way.” 
He Cheng just hums, breathing in the aroma of the coffee, not unaware of the way Mo Guan Shan is pointedly looking at him.
“Tian-di probably just can’t be bothered to have it otherwise.”
“Nah. He probably just thinks it makes him all mature and tough. As if cream and sugar makes you weak or some shit.”
Just before they both move to take a sip from their mugs, He Cheng mutters “Idiot” under his breath at the same time Mo Guan Shan scoffs it. They stop and couldn’t help to smirk at their consensus.
It’s good to know someone else can see through his brother’s bullshit.
He Cheng notes that Mo Guan Shan takes his coffee black. Mo Guan Shan just shrugs when he points this out. 
“I like the bitter taste. It’s what keeps you awake,” he says before taking another sip. “And you taste the flavor of the beans better without the cover up of milk or sweetener.”
A fair assessment. He Cheng will drink to that.
For a while, they sat in silence as they finish their meals. Then Mo Guan Shan’s phone lights up. He drains the last of his coffee as he swipes at the screen. It seems a message has popped up because he picks it up and types something back. He Cheng surmises it’s probably He Tian, just woken up, asking where Mo Guan Shan is. 
"Refill?" Mo Guan Shan offers, walking back to where the coffee pot is.
"No, thank you.”
Mo Guan Shan refills his cup and adds three spoons of cream and two sugar cubes. He Tian enters the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn just as Mo Guan Shan is back on his seat and finished stirring. His brother takes the seat beside the redhead across from him and He Cheing watches the latter push the mug at He Tian’s direction. The cup is only three-quarts full. 
“I’m done. Finish this.”
“You always do this. Why bother pouring a full cup if you’re not gonna drink even half of it?” He Tian quips but takes the mug anyway. 
He Cheng notes his brother doesn’t make a face after the first sip. He Tian even licks at his upper lip and a corner of his mouth is quirked up. 
“What’s for breakfast?”
“It’s way past noon.”
“It’s my first meal of the day. What’s for breakfast?”
“Scrambled eggs,” He Cheng answers before Mo Guan Shan could and delights at the face his brother makes when he sees what’s on his plate and realizes who made it.
‘What the…’ He Tian mouths as he narrows his eyes at what remains of He Cheng’s meal.
“You know what, I actually don’t want scrambled eggs. I want—”
“Tough shit. I’m already making them and you’re gonna eat it when it’s done.”
He Tian makes a low whining displeased sound but nonetheless doesn’t protest. “Throw in some bacon.”
“Alright.”
He Tian doesn’t offer to help beyond getting the pack of bacon from the fridge, handing it to Mo Guan Shan before returning to his seat. Like it’s routine. Like there’s an unspoken agreement that Mo Guan Shan cooks and He Tian stays out of his way. And He Cheng gathers he’s probably been shooed away and out of the kitchen when the other is at work. He Cheng can’t imagine his brother even knows how to operate a stove — just another thing they have in common by virtue of being born to money. 
He Tian's attention is solely on Mo Guan Shan. His back is to He Cheng, leaning against the counter as he talks to the redhead. He asks if he slept well, what he wants to do today, if there’s somewhere he wants to go to, if he wants anything particular for dinner later. Mo Guan Shan makes a comment that makes He Tian laugh but goes over He Cheng's head and he figures it must be an inside joke between them. 
There’s a kind of ease to it, the flow of their banter, the way they move around each other. He Tian certainly seems comfortable and at ease, the line of his back relaxed and lacking the usual tenseness of someone always ready to go on either the offense or defense. 
Mo Guan Shan mirrors the same ease as he puts down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for He Tian, who turns his head to plant a kiss on his cheek in thanks. 
The whole thing makes He Cheng feel like a fucking interloper in his own goddamn kitchen. 
He Cheng looks at his brother with his own plate of scrambled eggs and Mo Guan Shan's mug of coffee, the one with cream and sugar he said he couldn't finish so He Tian would take it, and thinks it's the best life he could have ever hoped for him. 
“Wash the dishes when you're done,” Mo Guan Shan says as he scrolls through his phone.
He Tian looks at the sink and makes a face at the pan and other things Mo Guan Shan used to cook.
“Man, do I have to? This isn’t even my house. And there are maids for a reason.”
“Tch. Spoiled brat.” Mo Guan Shan lightly pinches a chewing He Tian’s cheek, bulging with food. “Exactly. This isn’t your house. You use them, you clean them.”
“Cheng ate, too,” he nods to where He Cheng is finishing up the last of his meal. “Why don’t you make him do his dishes?” he says with a smirk, thinking he’s on to something.
“He’s letting the four of us stay for the summer.” Mo Guan Shan takes He Cheng’s plate and the empty glass of juice when he sees he’s done and soaks them in the sink. “Here. In this house that he owns. In an island that is his. For free.” He sends He Tian a look that says, ‘need I say more?’.
“What are you talking about? I’m paying for our stay here you know.”
“Oh, really? With what? Sure as hell haven’t seen you so much as touch your wallet since we got on the boat.”
“My sanity.”
Mo Guan Shan’s hand flexes and for a moment, He Cheng thinks his brother is gonna be hit over the head with the frying pan. 
“Just,” the word is sighed through gritted teeth, “do the damn dishes. It’s not that hard.”
“Why don’t you do them then?”
“I already cooked, asshole. I ain't washin’ the dishes. 'sides, you're the last to finish eatin’ so you get to clean up. Them’s the rules.”
“Fine, but I'm only gonna wash mine,” He Tian declares, viciously biting on a chunk of toast.
“It's one plate and a mug, Tian,” Mo Guan Shan sighs sounding like he’s had this exact conversation a thousand times. “Don't be a little bitch and wash them all. Don't waste soap.”
“Baby, look around. We can afford the waste.”
Mo Guan Shan levels him a look which He Tian stares right back as he continues to chew. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. A standoff with just their eyes, willing the other to back down first. 
He Cheng doesn’t quite know what’s going on between the stare down and the silence, but He Tian is the first to look away with a groan. The one to concede first, apparently.
“Uuughhh! Fine! Fuck it! Fine! I'll do the damn dishes.”
“Yeah, as you should,” Mo Guan Shan quips looking satisfied with his victory. He Cheng marvels at how easy it is for him when getting He Tian to do anything, even if it's for his own good, has always been like pulling teeth. “I’m gonna go call my mom. There's more coffee in the pot. Creamer ran out, but there's milk in the fridge.”
“You know I only take my coffee black.”
Mo Guan Shan watches with a flat expression as He Tian sips ‘his’ coffee with cream and sugar. He catches He Cheng's eyes and shoots him a look that says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ which He Tian doesn’t catch.
“Uh-huh, sure.” He doesn’t bother contesting. “There’s more toast in the bread box.”
“Buttered?”
“Butter it yourself, idiot,” Mo Guan Shan shoots back making a face at him. 
“Can’t even do that simple thing for me, babe? Really starting to doubt this relationship right now.”
“Good. You shouldn’t get too complacent anyway, dick head.” He hops out of his seat and swats at He Tian’s grabby hands. “Do the damn dishes or I swear to god you won’t have anything to doubt anymore.” 
He Cheng watches the exchange and feels like he’s in a sitcom. He thinks about how his initial plan to get a bottle of water has led to him being caught between his brother and his boyfriend play fighting, flirting, and the domesticity of it all. He thinks about asking Mo Guan Shan how he does that whole thing where he just stares at He Tian and makes him yield but figures it would only work if you're Mo Guan Shan. 
He remembers a time when He Tian lowered his pride. Impulsive, insolent, and desperate, he came crawling back to He Cheng and was even willing to go as far as becoming something he hates. All for the sake of some boy, some school friend, some little pet project that he picked up because he was bored that morphed into something else, something more.
Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care for another. He made He Tian care so much he was willing to make himself into a monster for Mo Guan Shan, but stopped him just in time from going the deep end and even made him more human. Hell, Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care about himself. And for all that, He Cheng is grateful.
"Thanks," he says as much and means more than just the best scrambled eggs he's had in a while, but Mo Guan Shan would never know it. "You really didn't have to." 
"Huh. Oh, uh, sure.” It catches Mo Guan Shan off-guard, halting him from leaving the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish as he says, “It's nothing, really. It's just…it’s just eggs."
He Cheng just hums and nods at him once in dismissal. 
“Why are you so mean to me?” He Tian shouts after Mo Guan Shan, who’s already rounded the corner and only shouts back, “Dishes!”
He Tian scowls but there’s no real heat in it. He even asks He Cheng if he wants the rest of the coffee, which he declines, when he stood up to get more toast before tucking back into his eggs.
He Cheng sees that He Tian is happy, thinks Mo Guan Shan brings out all the best in him, and hopes to all the gods he doesn't believe in that his brother don't ever fuck this one up. 
He doesn’t realize he’s staring until He Tian asks, “What?” around a mouthful of toast. 
“Nothing,” He Cheng says as he finishes his coffee, and as he stands up he says, “Make sure you bring him along everytime you plan to come over. Otherwise, don’t come at all.” And just to spite him, he slides his empty mug closer to He Tian. “And make sure you do the damn dishes.”
He gets the desired effect. The glare his brother sent him is acrid and his next words make He Cheng want to laugh.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
“I didn’t. Mo Guan Shan did.”
“Whatever. Shut the fuck up.”
He Cheng just smirks and doesn’t hit him for his impertinence if only because He Tian grumbling, “I was gonna do them anyway” has already made his day.
Later, as He Cheng sits on his desk looking over his schedule, he sees that he has an appointment with their legal team. A thought strikes him and he scribbles a curt note at the margins and tells his secretary to summon the family lawyers too.
He might as well update the family registry.
--
edit: now posted on AO3! glad you guys like this piece. please leave kudos and comments there as well. thank you! :)
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verysium · 5 months
Note
how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!
thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:
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sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.
kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)
rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.
yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.
isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.
bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.
barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.
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angelrari · 4 months
Text
gossip girl · pt. xii
based on the tv series gossip girl
max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader
fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)
a/n: hi! i am so sorry this took so long, but this winter break has been hell!!! i had exams this week and i couldn't find time to write. i hope you all enjoyed your holidays and that this new year is a good one for you. here's a new part for you, hope you enjoy it!!! (and, once again, sorry for taking so long!)🤍
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gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 132.363 others
yourusername see you soon vegas🎲❤️
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username this is so disrespectful...
username right... can't imagine how max must be feeling... why is she posting a picture of charles too? stick to one man!!!!!
scuderiaferrari once a ferrari girl, always a ferrari girl
redbullracing we will see!
pierregasly where's my picture? i know i am your favorite here
yourusername want me to post the pictures we took in the welcome party?
pierregasly nevermind!
username BUT WE WANT TO SEE THEM
landonorris nice colour 😉
username omg i didn't realize she was wearing lando's color!!!!!
username lando really doesn't know how to flirt
username collecting drivers like pokemon
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max was used to the attention, to the never-ending hate comments on social media and to people wishing him misery. he knew it was a side effect of his success and over the years he had learnt how to deal with it. but what he did not expect was to see these insults aimed at you. he was aware of how everyone seemed to be interested into knowing every single detail of your daily life, he knew how public your past relationship with charles had been and how the fans had loved every single second of it. but that was four years ago and he thought that should have been enough time for everyone to move on, but he was wrong.
your last instagram post had been the catalyst of it all. the press had started creating this narrative where they painted you as some sort of predator of formula 1 drivers, even posting polls online of who would be your next prey. and, although, he has never been a fan of social media, a few of this posts still made it to his "for you" page.
the warm sun rays streamed through the curtains of the hotel room. it had been a few days since you landed in abu dhabi. the warm weather felt like a gift after spending a couple of weeks in las vegas. you woke up in max's arms and he starred at you as you slowly moved and wrapped your arms tighter around his body.
"morning". you said and you moved to give max a quick chaste kiss. "how long have you been awake for?".
"just a few minutes". he said while carefully stroking your hair. "your phone kept beeping"
"shit, sorry, i forgot to put it on silent". you moved to grab your phone from nightstand and then rested your head again on max's chest.
"it's okay".
jolie's name popped on the screen of your phone. she had been texting you to tell you she had landed earlier in abu dhabi. she was the type of person to never miss an opportunity to have some fun, so when she had told you a few days ago to tell you she would be attending to this weekend gp, you were not surprised. you had figured out that the youngest of the leclerc brothers also had something to do with this, as arthur was also racing in the city this weekend.
"jolie is asking me to join her for the formula 2 sprint race". you explained to max.
"oh, right, she's came here to see arthur?".
"yeah". you replied. "do you mind if i go with her?".
"no, i don't care, i'm probably going to be busy anyways". max answered. "why are you asking me this?".
"it's just-. nothing". you replied as you draw circles on max's bare chest. "i read an article yesterday about me, us and charles, not a very nice one i must say-".
"you shouldn't read that shit".
"i know, i know". you replied after letting out a sigh. "but it got me thinking maybe you don't feel comfortable with this".
"what exactly?"
"me getting along with charles, with his family-".
"i don't care". he repeated with confidence. "i trust you".
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joliedebelle posted a story
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caption: back at it with my favorite two ❤️
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jolie was nervously biting her nails as she watched the end of the sprint race on the screen of arthur's garage. it had been a tough race for her best friend, he had finished 21st after having a few issues with the car.
"fuck". she cursed under her breath. "he's gonna be so upset after this".
"at least you're here to cheer him up". you said. "try to remind him that the big day is tomorrow, not today".
"right". jolie replied. "when does the f1 qualy start?".
"uhm". you started. "in-".
"in less than an hour". you heard a male voice from behind you say.
charles, who was already in his red race suit, was standing behind you. his hair was a bit messy, probably because he had recently changed his clothes, and he was gently fixing it with his fingers. jolie, who was excited to see him, opened her arms to give him a warm hug. afterwards, he smiled at you and leaned in to give you a quick kiss on your right cheek. unintentionally, you felt yourself blushing at the innocent, but adorable action.
"it didn't go well, right?". he asked as he watched the results of the formula 2 sprint race on screen.
"yeah". jolie replied. "luckily there is another leclerc that we will be cheering on today".
"i'm afraid someone here is going to be rooting for anther driver". he said as he stared at you.
"i don't even like gasly that much". you replied and charles let out a loud laugh.
"she is always cheering for you". jolie said. "when you broke up, she would never miss a race and she would get so nervous sometimes that she would start praying".
"oh, really?".
"you didn't have to expose me like that, you know?". you told your sister who shrugged her shoulders.
"well, it's the truth". she said. "she's always gonna be your number one fan".
"good". charles replied. "because i am always going to be hers".
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agustdef · 10 months
Text
Will You
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Black!Reader
Genre: Fluff; Idol AU/Idolverse
Word Count: 3k
Warning: Light Language
Rating: PG-13
Beta Reader: @hobeemin
A/N: This was due to idk and I have so many ideas that I simply didn’t write a ff that ended up posted for much too long. So here’s to hoping to finishing these ideas.
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“And without further ado, I am more than happy to introduce you to our keynote speaker Ms. YN LN.”
Clapping fills the room, and Jungkook joins in a beat late. His mind wandered as he’d listened to the other speakers for almost an hour. They’d all had interesting things to say, but something about being in a room with all these people with a person at a podium felt too much like school. Plus, a few of them seemed just to enjoy hearing themselves talk.
He refused to admit that to YN, though.
His beautiful girlfriend tried to give him an out when he said he’d come with her for this event. Told him how boring it would be and that she didn’t mind if he just did something else until she was done. Of course, he pushed for it, and she relented with one final warning about how he’d be bored as hell. To a degree, he’d known that going into it, but he wanted to support her. And to see her in her element.
Though they both work in the same industry, they’re on different ends of it. Jungkook as an artist and occasional writer, while YN worked legal. Their first encounter was when an American artist friend of his invited her out to dinner as a thank you for helping him with a contract issue with his label. They’d made him promises and tried to backtrack when it was time for the new contract. YN worked at a firm that specialized in that kind of thing, though they usually worked with smaller artists. His friend had been her big break, bringing in business and a promotion.
Of course, Jungkook was too much of a punk to ask her for her number at that meeting. He was too nervous about if it was forward, and he didn’t want to mess with the mostly professional nature of the event. But he got her card, and that was enough.
Until they kept bumping into each other at the more business-like industry events. Well, half bumping into each other and the other half him hunting down her name on programs and making sure to show up to those panels or events. It made him feel like a little bit of a stalker, but to combat that, he finally got his shit together and asked her out after running into her at a restaurant. 
Grateful to not be turned down was an understatement.
As they got to know each other, he felt himself fall hard and fast. She was perfect. Not in how one thinks when they hear the word, but in how that worked for him. That made their relationship work through the lows as well as the highs. 
I love you slipped out of his mouth five months in. 
If that didn’t explain why he put himself through this boredom, nothing, else would at least not in a way that made sense. His members still sometimes looked at him crazy with how he felt about her and how he could only sometimes find the words to explain it in a coherent way.
“I promise to try not making this too boring for y’all. I can not, however promise it won’t be boring at all. My line of work has to have some pitfalls besides all that paperwork,” YN joked.
The entire room laughs. It’s not the funniest thing in the world, but the way she delivers it and the energy she exudes as a person gets to people. It’s why Jungkook lets out a laugh that’s a little too loud and draws the attention of those around him. And of YN, though she doesn’t look his way to make that clear. He just nose from the way she pauses for a second longer, and her smile widens. 
Embarrassed isn’t even the right word for him at the moment. Part of him wants to flee the room, but he stays in his seat. It helps that anyone who side eyes him switches to being shocked to see him there. Being identified as a member of BTS is what he can handle; being embarrassed is not, despite what his variety show content and the lives over the years might suggest.
To let the feeling pass, he focused on the stage. Well, on YN.
“For those who don’t know me, I’m YN LN, and I've been working at Heights Law for the last six or seven years,. We specialize in fair contracts for indie artists. From things with their label to tours, merchandise, the people they hire, and even contracts between members if it’s a group. About thirty-five percent of those we work with don’t even have a label they’re signed to and don’t want to. And then about twenty percent of our clients are more mainstream artists looking for the same services.
We don’t work with any sort of label because we feel it ties us to worrying too much about keeping on their good side when trying to figure things out. And while we are not on a mission to do anything that would be, for the lack of a better word, line crossing with the people we are trying to get to sign the contracts, our clients come first. That’s made us stand out in a way y’all may have heard about a time or two. I’d like to personally apologize for making you sit through articles about a certain label trying to screw over up and coming artist Minx and all the weird things that were honestly not so weird about her tour rider.”
Again laughter, but with some whispers and grumbles thrown in. That entire situation had everyone in the industry confused as hell, and for the last few months, they thought Minx was trying to be greedy until everything was settled and it was shown that all her asks weren’t as crazy as they’d seemed. Even Jungkook found himself looking at YN like she’d lost it with every new bit of information that was released. He’d asked her about it, but she gave him a look, and he had to wait out the outcome like everyone else. 
“And for this, I think Minx is the perfect situation to discuss. I mean, when else will you see how things can go when a former lawyer turned pop star wants to sign with the label she used to work for but knows all their tricks.”
That was all it took to have people enthralled. After everything settled, everyone still had a million questions about it, but they were still waiting for someone at the firm to answer them. Jungkook had the fortune of dating YN around the time, so he got her to tell him, and Minx had invited them somewhere and told him more. So, he knew everything.
Which meant he could just stare at her. He didn’t think of himself as the type to be much of a creepy person, even if him trying to run into her wasn’t a clear indication of that. That and that looking at her was one of his favorite pastimes. 
YNs cute.
He would and did use a million words to describe her. But the first thought in his brain when he saw her was how cute she was, and he felt his heart triple in size from that alone. Her genuine smile and soft features do a lot to counteract the fact that she’s only an inch shorter than me, which throws people off when they meet her and had only seen her face before.
Those legs of hers, when she wears heels, drive Jungkook absolutely feral. And he has to fight off the thought of them as his mind spirals. He focused instead on the light tint of pink pushing through the brown skin because of all the bright lighting, the way there’s a stray piece of hair not as curly as the rest that she swears isn’t from heat damage, and she can fix, the soft red of her lips, and the way every part of her body seems light and open as she talks about a subject she loves. A look he’s familiar with and is how he knows she looks at him. 
More than anything, Jungkook is sure that YN loves him as much as he loves her, and like a revelation, he knows how much that is. How much space that love takes up in him, to the point that sometimes it feels like it’s overflowing. Right now, it feels like it’s overflowing.
“Questions?”
That one word pulls him out of his head, but he looks at YN with a clarity he didn’t have a few minutes ago, let alone a few hours ago.
Someone clears their throat, but his eyes don’t leave her.
“Why not just go with what the label wanted? I mean, sure, Minx had the background, but that shouldn’t make her any different than any other artist. Should she not be thankful to get into the place twice on different sides of it?”
There was agreement in the crowd, but it died out quickly with everyone else's quietness drop quiet.
Despite the shift in vibes, there’s a smile on YN’s face. 
“Why do you think that? Is it because others don’t have that same knowledge? I can see how that could be seen as unfair because it is. But because she has the background,, she used it to help herself best,, which made it so we could best help her and those in the future. However, I can assure you that they changed their contract language a lot since then. Height and many other firms who deal with them and this kind of thing all saw a shift for the better and for the worst with them. So, while you may wonder why Minx didn’t simply take what she should be lucky to have gotten from them, I hope you’re settled by the fact that unless the rare thing happens. Someone else does the same thing, no one else will be able to give the insight on how to best make the next contract work for the client in the way she did.”
The response is assertive, sarcastic, and professionally annoyed. It doesn’t leave room for anyone to say anything that doesn’t make them look any more like an ass. But the man at the podium opens his mouth a few times to try and figure out what to say. In the end, he walks away from the mic with his head down. Jungkook is sure that if it weren’t for pride, he would walk out of the room altogether.
“Any more questions,” YN said after a moment.
There’s one that Jungkook has. One he needs answered, but he finds himself glued to his seat.
Several people go up and ask their questions, all of them better than the first one, though some of them toe the line. There are also a few that Jungkook would deem flirting, but they don’t bother him. Not with the thoughts swarming around in his head.
Before he knows it, she answers the last question, and everyone is dismissed. A few linger to talk, but with this day being so packed, everyone wants to rush off to the next talk or event happening.
He sits in the seat for about fifteen minutes before she walks up to him, and when she puts her hand on his shoulder, he looks up at her startled, even though he watched her approach him.
“Ready to go?”
Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at her. He feels all over the place, but none of it’s uncertainty or doubt.
“I have a question,” he managed.
“Huh?”
“I have a question. I didn’t get the chance to ask it in there. I was… I’m nervous to ask it, and I couldn’t do it in there.”
YN frowned. “You can always ask me anything, my love. No need to be nervous about it. Plus, I’m sure yours is better than some of the bullshit I get asked in general when it comes to work.”
For a moment, Jungkook says nothing. All he can do is stare at her and try to keep his breathing normal. The latter is the hardest part, but YN takes his hand in hers and squeezes it tight.
Taking a breath, he gets to his feet, takes both of her hands in his, and stares into her eyes. He’s more than sure about what he has to say.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
Question nor answer was said with any hesitation. However, Jungkook could tell that YN was still trying to process what was happening. He was too, but that wasn’t important now.
After a second, Jungkook released one of her hands, and with the other firm in his grasp, he led her out of the room. He hears her ask a question, but it doesn’t fully register in his brain. All his focus is on weaving through the crowd of people and out the door of the convention center. The place isn’t as isolated as some can be, so he walked past the parking lot where his car is and made his way past the hotel they were staying at.
“Where are we going?”
“Jungkook?”
“Jay?”
There’s a loud exhale too, but Jungkook paid it no mind. He’s on a mission. 
“For goodness sake, Kookie.”
YN matches his pace though she’s clearly confused by what the hell is happening. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t find his words just yet, so he kept walking until ten minutes later, they were in front of a popular celebrity-use jewelry store.
A few of the things he bought for himself and others - YN included - were from here, so he had a code that they gave him to get in. The door buzzed them in, and the moment that they walked in, there was a person there and ready to help. Though it might not be obvious to most, it was clear from the knowing smile on the woman’s face she knew what was up. 
Didn’t stop Jungkook from being so flustered, though. 
“Hi. Engagement rings. I mean, we would like to see engagement rings.”
Without a word, she directed them to the back of the store. They followed close behind her, and when they entered the room, she’s taking them to another person is setting down a tray of rings, with others sitting on a cart behind him.
Yeah, she knew.
Once everything is on the table, the man leaves, and they’re directed to sit. The woman who welcomed them stands on the other side of the table.
“This is a collection of all the rings we sell in the store. Though there are others, we can have custom made if what you see in front of you isn’t the right fit or you want a mix of styles. There’s a mix of the traditional sort and the non-traditional. Some are even without diamonds. Please, take your time to look through them and see if something catches your eye.”
Then she’s gone, and all the sound goes with her.
“We’re doing this?”
“You asked me.”
“True.”
Jungkook finally turns and looks at her, and despite all the nerves he’s feeling about if she’ll take it back, there’s a smile on her face. And a lack of anxiety like what’s going through him. Though he can tell, she’s a little thrown off by it all.
“I did. And I want to.”
“Then we better start looking, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
All the tension that was once there leaves the room, and they both turn their attention to the hundreds of rings in front of them. It’s an overwhelming site, but they dive into them. Jungkook tries to get YN to try some on, but she says that she doesn’t want to just yet, so they set them on the empty tray right in front of them. 
Each one feels perfect to Jungkook, but not right. More of the diamond rings that look how he’s used to seeing American engagement rings look like end up on the tray, which isn’t much of a shock with YN’s usual preferences.
A tray marked as morganite is second to last, and Jungkook almost avoids it, but then one ring calls to him. His eyes zone in on it, and he reaches for it just as YN gasps. His neck nearly breaks when he turns to look at her, but the slight pain means nothing as he follows her gaze to the ring he was reaching for.
Without another thought, he picks it up, takes her hand, and slides it into place. Though it’s a little loose, it fits her finger. The oval champagne colored gem is on a white gold band and surrounded on either side with diamonds that fan out, almost like leaves on the stem of a flower. They wrap perfectly around her finger and stop before they reach the palm side. Everything about it is YN. Is them.
“Perfection,” YN whispered.
“Yeah.”
And like the whirlwind that this was, Jungkook was happy to find that they had the same ring, the right size, on the premises, and he paid for it right then and there. It only left YN’s finger so they could clean it, and then it was on again.
They walked out of the room, and both were on a cloud. All those nerves Jungkook felt before were gone, but something else replaced it.
“I guess we have a wedding to plan. I can’t imagine when we’d even have it,” YN said.
“Now.”
Not the least bit startled, she turned to him with a raised brow. 
“Now?”
“I… I don’t know. Maybe?”
Silence sat between them for what felt like forever, and then YN turned her attention back to the jeweler.
“We need to see wedding bands, too,” she said, then turned back to Jungkook. “And you need to start making phone calls.”
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tulipsie-art · 4 months
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a handful of my favourite drawings this year
gonna just bury a personal post in here too, give it a read if you fancy:
as i've said a few times, this is the first year in a long time where art has had no monetary component for me, and it still took a little while, but i feel like this is the year where i've actually managed to de-program myself from years of being a Twitter Artist, and switch over my mentality from drawing what i think people want to see, to what i want to make, and also learn not to force myself not to draw if i don't want to, and on that note i dunno if i'm just feeling residual burnout from the years of grinding out for twitter or what, but i was kinda surprised how small my appetite for drawing actually was
that said, when i do draw now, i know it's because i'm actually really excited to be doing it and i feel like it's shown in the results tbh, there's way less drawings this year where i felt like i'm just going through the motions and drawing for the sake of getting something out there, and i look back at basically everything i've drawn like "yeah, that was cool, and i had a lot of fun making it"
part of that is that i've also discovered just how important it is to actually enjoy every part of my art process, i've sorta just cut out parts i don't enjoy - i'm way more willing to just leave things looking slightly wonky, and i haven't done any fuckin lineart this year at all, i've cut that shit out entirely because i don't like doing it, instead i just spend 10 minutes cleaning up my sketches and go straight to colouring and it feels like nobody's even noticed, it rules lol, and i've put a bit more focus on making things that feel like "scenes" rather than just "pretty girl in white void (with optional background circle)", not that all my art needs to be that, but it's been satisfying taking the time to just draw little simple backgrounds or focus on building an overall vibe, rather than just the character
tl;dr dumbass girl learns to have fun drawing again by not giving a fuck
love u lot <3
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sunshinefox35 · 7 months
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Incorrect Quotes COD Pt. 6
Hi guys, sorry for not posting at all, my work has kept me so busy and after long days out on the field, I have no more motivation left. I'll be getting to the requests real soon, I promise. Thank you for being so patient and enjoy another COD shit post!
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Roach: "What do you call murder, vandalism and sabotage?" Reader: "Hobbies" Roach: *Gasp* Reader: "...that Reader does not partake in."
Rudy: "Do you think different laundry detergents have different tastes?" Soap: "They do." Reader looking up from their paper work alarmed: "W-why did say that with such certainty?!"
Soap: "Hey Ghost! What are your plans for next year?!" Ghost: "New year new me!" *Burning of Fingerprints*
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Reader bleeding out in the back of the ambulance: "But I want it!" Paramedics: *driving past McDonalds* "I said no!"
Soap: "I hate your giraffe looking, Shrek jumbo size, t-rex, palm tree looking musty ass." König: "Need a stool? I couldn't hear you all the way down there."
Alejandro: "A human heart costs around 1 million dollars but I gave you mine for free." Rudy: ... Rudy: Why do you know how much a human heart costs?
Captain Reader: So what do you have to say to a Rookie when he messes up?" Ghost annoyed: "You're unable to work here again." Soap: "You're fired." Gaz: "You're promoted to a customer." Captain Reader: "...I quit."
Price: "My kink is when people actually care about my feelings and what I have to say." Ghost: "Unrealistic, stick to bondage like the rest of us."
Soap, doodling in his sketchbook: "I wanna do Ghost." Gaz: "Like draw him...?" Soap sweating: "Oh yeah ... I can draw him too." TF 141: ... Ghost: ... Ghost: "Wait what?!"
Gaz: "Dinner's ready!" *Reader walking in to see Gaz sitting seductively on the table* Reader: ... Reader: But it's lasagna night...
Reader: "I was thinking an autumn wedding... not too cold not too hot, you know?" Price: " We aren't engaged!?" Reader: ... Reader: "So THAT'S what I forgot to do yesterday!"
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ONE YEAR LATER
tangerine x fem!reader
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word count. 912
synopsis. one year ago today, you and tangerine celebrated the birth of your daughter, mandarin - mandy for short. this special day also marks the anniversary of when you unintentionally saved his life - calling him home from his mission in tokyo.
warnings. fluff fluff fluff. all the fluff !!
note. posting this as a little gift for my 1 year writing anniversary💌 I don’t usually like or read baby/ pregnancy fics, so I have no idea why I wrote this😭 wanted it to be fluffy so everyone can enjoy xo
For you, today was a celebration of life - a day of reflecting on your greatest loves. Not only does today mark your daughter's very first birthday, but it's also the day when you unintentionally saved Tangerine's life.
Way back when, Tangerine was apprehensive about leaving your heavily pregnant self while he was away on a mission - all on your own without any help or care. At the time, your due date was a mere couple weeks away, so you reassured him constantly, saying that she wouldn't be out for a little while - and how you have friends and family who can step in if need be. Besides, back then, you were looking forward to having the bed to yourself, getting to sleep through those very few hours you got a night without your husband's snoring disrupting you. 
When you rang him up last year in the middle of the night -for you- you were crying and rambling about the pain of contractions, beckoning him back home to you and the baby. He never once questioned a thing, diverting the taxi driver to the airport instead of the train station.
He would never admit it, but he felt completely useless, only being able to encourage and help over a measly phone call, listening to you cry and wail without being able to touch or hold you. He stayed on the phone with you until he boarded the plane, praising you and telling you how he'll be with you in no time. 
That's why today was so important to you - to you both. It's the day your love returned home in one piece while simultaneously being blessed with another slightly cuter and smaller love.
As first-time parents, Mandy's birthday was a big deal - though she wouldn't remember it, you would. It's the kind of day you both want to remember: everything down to the second - every spilt drink, every smile, every word, just every little thing about the day.
Tangerine was out fetching some last-minute things for the party while you stayed back with your daughter, your little girl resting on your hip as you finished setting the table. It wasn't a big celebration with lots of people you feel obligated to invite, just a small, casual event with those you're closest with: Lemon on Tan's side and a few relatives on yours.
"Oh, I know," you sweetly coo, entertaining Mandy when she blabbers - diverting her fidgeting fingers away from the hem of your top. "He's taking forever, hm? I only asked him to get candles." 
You look down at your sweet little girl, her toothy grin mirroring your wide one. It was times like this when she looked like the spitting image of her father - light eyes lit up warm, all doe-like, gazing at you with a smile.
You make a playful gasp at Mandy when you hear the keys jingle in the front door, shaking her excitedly and rushing to meet Tan in the foyer. 
He walks in, a smile quickly spreading when he lands on you both - Mandy hooked on your hip, her grin just as bright as yours. 
"There's my girls," he says warmly, briefly kissing you on the cheek, then his daughter on hers. "Sorry, traffic was utter shit," he whispers to you, lingering a kiss on your lips.
He walks past you both, nodding for you to follow along, leading you to the kitchen island. He places a shopping bag on the counter and begins to rummage through it, searching for what seems to be surprises from the shop.
"Alright, alright. I know you said just cake candles, but," Tan proposes, drawing out the 'but' with a sly smile. "I couldn't not get something for the birthday girl," focusing his attention on Mandy, who is making grabby hands at him. "Here you go, poppet."
Tangerine picks up a bouquet of baby pink flowers from the bag and pulls out a singular peony, handing it to his daughter. His eyes soften as he looks over Mandy, watching how she displays her signature toothy smile, clearly pleased with her gift - even though it had absolutely no use to a one-year-old. The thought is what counts - it does to you anyway.
"Don't think I forgot about you," he softly smiles, his moustache twitching upwards. He hands you the original bouquet and an envelope. "I wrote it in the car. All I had was an Ikea pencil," he chuckles, suddenly bashful.
Your smile widens, nose scrunching, and eyes creasing - clearly appreciative of the sweet sentiment. Exchanging Mandy for the gifts, you open the card and read through his note, watching how he slipped through the kitchen doors, seemingly embarrassed.
"I know you do," you warmly call out to him from the other room, gesturing to his worded thanks for his appreciation towards you. "I appreciate you too, you know," your words quieten as you trail after him into the living room - getting closer to them. You plop onto the sofa beside him, sitting snuggly at his side with Mandy atop his lap. You slip your hand into his larger one, resting your head on his shoulder. "Like a whole lot."
And as you wait for your very few guests to arrive, you take the time to remember this moment - to enjoy it. You and your little family huddled on the couch, celebrating the day that reunited you all. 
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
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