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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years

Text

Bad timing part.2 | tom holland x fem!reader

part.1

Summary: Tom stake to his words. In fact, since the viagra incident, your life was in a constant loop of teasing and frustration. But the torture ended when the boy finally asked you to marry him. Joy and happiness overwhelmed you, but you couldn’t help asking yourself a single question: what will happen during your honeymoon?

Warnings: language, sexual teasing/tension, SMUT including romantic first time sex fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) and sooo much more, oh and fluff too obviously!

Word Count: 5228

A/N: you cheeky beauts 😏... so many of you asked for a part2 whaaaat!! I think I’ve left you guys a bit frustrated, am I right? 😜 so I tried to please everyone bc you all gave me ideas and stuff, so it’s a mix of everything I guess? 👀 as originally requested by @photoshopart15 but also as a general demand, here it is! hope you will enjoy it as much as the first one, you cheeky beasts 😉✨ did I enjoy writing it too much? judging by the word count... HECK YES 🙈

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Tom is a kind and well-mannered man, always putting the others before himself. You knew that since day one. And when he had a precise idea in mind, boy does he keeps his words until he goes fully through it.

After the viagra incident Tom was teasing you any time he had the chance, to the point you would have to lock yourself into a room or just go out by yourself to calm down. You have never been so fuzzy, your whole face starting to keep the blushing aspect. Any occasion was an excuse to push you at your limits. And he loved it. But you kind of got used to it by the time and well, and learnt to live with it.

Then came the day Tom proposed to you.

And later came the weeding.

"I do."

You remember saying these two special words during the ceremony. Exchanging vows with your loved one surrounded by the people who are precious to you both is just how you imagined that day. Beautiful yet intimate, with little extravaganza touches from Tom.

The best day of your life.

The sun begins to set little by little, letting behind it an orange-reddish sky before it disappears below the horizon. Some rays still light the bedroom you actually are. The peaceful roll of the waves running aground the shore livens up the surrounding, sometimes followed by tropical birds’ cries. Calm. Total serenity. And relaxing, just what you needed.

For your honeymoon, Tom booked a villa on stilts in the Maldives for three weeks. You arrived a few hours ago, slightly bitten up by the jet lag but more than happy to be finally there. No one around but you and the beach of the island at five minutes by boat. You are totally living the dream.

As the weather has nothing to do with London at the moment, you just wear a simple top and some sport shorts. Your hair put into a messy bun, you lay on your stomach on the king size bed that is at the perfect place to watch the sunset. Right in front of it, the patio door widely open to this magnificent scenery and the last ray warming up your exposed skin. Phone in hands, you scroll through it as Harry already sent you the first pictures he took of the wedding.

You couldn’t suppress the smile on your face. Both you and Tom had bright smiles on the photographs, sometimes with teary eyes due to emotion but still radiating happiness and love for each other.

A new chapter of your life just started and you can’t wait to see where it will take you with the man you love.

Speak of the devil, you notice now that the running water coming from the bathroom stops. Just like the humming from inside. Another two minutes later, the wooden door opens to reveal your newly husband freshly exiting the bathroom, only wearing a boxer tight around everything his hips and hair still wet. And to think that he can look hot with and without clothes... and that he is now officially yours.

You hear his steps on the creaking parquet as he approaches your shared bed and look over your shoulder. Then the bed dips from the weight of his body next to you.

"Looks like Harry did a great job with the pictures, right?"

Tom’s hot breath is next to your ear as he speaks, sending you chills over your body. When you turn slightly your head towards him, his face is close to yours that you can feel the heat coming from him. His eyes look lovingly at the picture you stopped on: both of you sharing a kiss after your vows.

“The pictures are beautiful, indeed” you reply in a whisper, eyes back on your phone.

You feel him leave a kiss on top of your exposed shoulder, his lips warm from his previous shower. He then put his chin on the nap of your neck, getting closer as if searching for more closeness, his still wet torso against half your back.

“I want to frame that one when we go back home” Tom adds while putting one hand over yours which holds the phone.

Your heart is thumping from many emotions rushing through your mind and body. You sure feel blessed to be now married to this young man you knew since your young age, not to forget how attracted you are to each other. Yet the incident of “that day” still remains fresh in the back of your head.

But you were a newly married couple now so why would you be frighten or self-conscious about... what has to come? That is right, you have no reason to be scared. Not at all.

You lock your phone and let it fall on the soft sheets. Your hands still linked, you now intertwine your fingers with his as you kiss his cheek then repeat the action a few times, a bit slower and lips never leaving his skin. Tom slightly pulls away turning his head to look at your face, admiring the gleam in your eyes that are like an open book to him.

In a light motion Tom pushes your upper body to make you turn on your back. After biting his lips to hide a smirk, he slides closer to you and both of you roll on the bed followed by giggles. Now wrapping his strong arms around your frame, Tom hugs you tightly against his chest.

“My beautiful wife...” he mumbled, pressing the tip of his nose into the tresses of your hair. “... Mrs. Holland.”

The last statement makes you heart thump heavily, cheeks starting to redden.

“I love you, Tom, so much” you whisper, answering the unspoken way his heart relayed just how much he loves you as well.

A giggle escapes your lips when he huffs a hot breath against the rim of your ear squeezing you even tighter in his arms before finally relaxing into a soft cuddle. Sliding one of your arms around his back, you snuggle into his frame trying to be as close to his body as possible so he can be enveloped by your warmth and body heat.

Then Tom shifts just a bit placing his hand on your cheek, getting you to tilt your head up where he admires the shade and gleam of your beautiful eyes before pulling you to meet his lips. Instantly your body melts under the gentle and warm sway of his kiss, that feels soft and sweet like the perfect flavour of ice cream.

The moment Tom pulls away your eyes flutter hazily, telling him you want another with the soft way you whisper his name.

"Someone’s needy..."

Not trying to hide his smirk anymore, the man is more than happy to give you all the kisses you could ever want as he leans down again meeting your lips in the middle. One more kiss turns into many, as one of your hands glide into his wild brown hair. Your eyes soften, parting your lips when his tongue slides over your top lip wanting to make the kisses more steamy.

The heated sway of his slick muscle laps around your own slowly and sensually coating it with his saliva, letting you become enthralled and overwhelmed so much by his passion that a small murmur of a moan hazes into his lips.

"Mmh, I can never get enough of the way you taste" Tom mutters the moment he pulls away licking his lips, noting the thin trail of saliva connecting you together.

He then trails the edge of his lips down your neck while placing soft enticing feather-like kisses.

“What do you say about me marking this gorgeous body of yours?” he rasps, letting the heat of his breath haze against your skin and picks a soft patch to suck on.

It takes you a moment to realise he is indeed leaving you a hickey. Such a mark would not be the first one he has given you, but you always remind him to not make them too big and somewhere easy to hide. But today, you don’t want to impose him any restriction.

And that is when you feel some kind of pressure... between your legs. More precisely against your core. You let out a high pitch squeal when the steady pressure evolves into back and forth moves. You can’t stop a few moans escaping from your mouth at the feeling, Tom’s hips in total rythme with his sucking.

Your body arches more into his, letting him have complete access to your neck. Tom slides his tongue up and down, sucking and swirling his muscle till a deep purple love bite is forming against your skin, right on the side of your collarbone. Only then does he pull away to admire his handy work.

A tingle slides through your body as he uses a few of his fingers to caress over your love bruise, as if he could feel how warm and pulsating your skin and heart are. Short-winded and almost sweating, your eyes still blurry with what just happened, and definitely wet down there. A total reminder of the “incident”.

Then you see it. His huge deadly smirk, staring at you so deep as he perfectly knows what he is doing to you.

And without a word Tom stands up from over you and the bed, passing his finger through his now dry curls as he starts walking towards his luggage on the other side of the room.

“Alright, a boat’s gonna take us to the restaurant of the island for 7pm so let’s get ready.”

And the man just leaves you still on the bed to go change into the bathroom. You roll onto your side, breath still short while squeezing your thighs together to find some relieve.

That. Fucking. Bastard.

* * * *

Fortunately, the delicious food and tasty cocktails appeased your infuriated more like frustrated state from earlier. You were not THAT mad at Tom... but still. Since you left the villa to have dinner on the beach, you never felt so tensed. You tried your best to not show your husband bad attitude because first, he doesn’t deserve any of it and two... There is no other reason, actually.

You racked your brains all evening. You knew you were ready, and that is why you mostly welcomed Tom into your shared steamy embrace. And it all stopped abruptly like he did every times since the viagra incident. But now, you were married so why does he keep playing that hell of a teasing game?

So you kept your composure as much as you could, even when Tom tried to be touchy-feely. Each time both your skins made contact, it surprised you to the point Tom started wondering if you were alright. But you still managed to conceal your weird behaviour to him.

But he still noticed something was on.

* * * *

You are finally back to the villa. Tom gentlemanly helps you to get out of the little boat, not without nearly falling into the sea as doing so. At least, his usual goofy self always brings a smile on your face. Tom opens the door to let you in first, and you thank him as you do.

Entering the house you stop when you notice the inside plunged into complete darkness, but with candles lighten up here and there. In the air flutters a calming perfume of tropical flower, just enough to mix with the salty perfume of the sea. And at your feet are spread flowers petals as if creating a path to lead you somewhere.

“You like it?” Tom whispers in you ears, giving you the chills.

“T-That’s really pretty, but why-”

“Shh, you will see, princess.”

Before you can finish your sentence, Tom’s hands gently press onto your hips and he slowly pushes you to make you walk. As he walks you through the dark villa - and banging into some furnitures on the way which makes you laugh again, you now are able to guess where he takes you.

Tom then stops you in front of the familiar wooden door to open it, and before your eyes is a nicely arranged the big bathroom with the same lighted candles around the bathtub already filled up with water and petals. But what takes your breath away may for sure be the beautiful view from the patio window on which the bathtub is placed against. You can still hear and see the sea waves in the darkness of the night, but in the distance you can make out some lights coming from the next door island. There are actually curtains on both sides of the window, slightly closed to keep some intimacy but still a bit see-through.

A bright blush decorates your cheeks at all the display as suddenly tones of intimate thoughts crosse your mind.

“As cliché as it sounds, I always wanted to take a bath together. And now that we are married...” Tom interrupts himself to slide his arms around your hips, as you take a breath and lean back against his chest.

“Well now that we are married, I wanted to try it with you. Do you want too?” He murmures with his suave voice, placing a soft kiss against your slender neck as you nod your head.

“Y-You also brought some champagne, as I see” you notice, still overwhelmed in the warm embrace of your lover.

The bottle in an ice bucket and two flutes glasses are nicely presented on a wooden coffee table next to the bath. Tom nods against your cheek, leaving another kiss there. With a pounding heart you nuzzle your face against his, feeling his smooth face on your lips and his natural scent filling your nostrils.

"Can I undress you? Or we can undress each other? Piece... by... piece..." Tom places a kiss after each word, making you feel all warm and tingly as he then trails his hands down your hips and massages your thighs under the summer dress you decided to wear tonight.

"Ah... I like the sound of that. Can I go first, please?" you shyly ask, looking at him through your long eyelashes.

After moving you to the center of the bathroom, Tom turns your body around to face him and agrees to your demand. He is unsurprised when you start unbuttoning his stripped white and lavender shirt. Letting it fall at his feet, he takes his cue and bends down to his knees, running his hands up and down both your legs up under your dress.

You can't take your eyes off his sleek and sculptured chest muscles. Your fingers wander along his neck to then stop on his broad shoulders.

Smirking at your focused eyes Tom takes the edge of your dress to pull it up your hips, your thighs finally at his mercy. As he purposefully has a gander at your black coloured panties, he gives both your thighs a nice warm kiss and then stands up while tugging your dress upend off your entire body.

A pant full of desire escapes your lips so Tom takes a little initiative and grabs your hand to place it on the front of his darted white pants, encouraging you to unbutton and slide the zipper down. Which you do after a few seconds of looking into his lustful brown eyes, pushing at the waistband before the material gladly slips down his long legs and pools around his ankles.

He kicks his pants away before encouraging you to approach him closer. But you stop him and with trembling hands, you slowly unclasp your bra, not daring to look directly at Tom as your cheeks keep flushing.

His tongue licks his bottom lip admiring the outline of your breasts coming into view. Tom thought you would be a little reluctant to completely undress in front of each other, even if he has seen your gorgeous curves before but you surprise him by taking the first step yourself.

With blushy cheeks, you still hide your almost exposed tits with an arm. Tom can't help himself when he steps up to your body and presses your bare chests together, meeting you in the middle for a kiss. The feeling of your soft breasts is a complete and utter turn on for him, as his hands began to gently explore your body a little by caressing around your hips and down your back before dipping one into the back of your panties to give your bottom a nice squeeze.

A moan of his name hazes into his mouth as you wrap both your hands around his rippling back muscles, while you can feel him greedily wanting to pull down your last remaining article of clothing.

But you feel he doesn’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to. Or maybe... will Tom actually interrupt everything like before dinner? That would be even worse, just by analysing the current situation you are in. Despite being a little jittery with tones of questions in mind, your own hands slide down his hips and push at his boxers, blushing at the way they easily slide down his legs lower on his v-line.

"Adventurous, little missy?” Tom teasingly rasps when you can't help but fully eye his now well endowed manhood for the first time.

It is not surprising that you stutter out an answer and tilt your face away, but it gives him a moment to caress down your stomach and grip the waistband of your panties and lower them leaving you both equally naked.

Your hands shake with embarrassment but since Tom is not hiding himself, you try to adapt some of his courage and allow the man you love to have an unhindered view of your body that he has desired for so long. And he takes full advantage of bouncing his eyes up and down with zero shame.

"Dammit baby, have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?" he groans softly in defeat, nestling his face in your neck.

A smile slides up your lips as you whisper you feel the exact same way, causing him to face you again and cup both of your cheeks for a nice warm kiss. Once you part, he leads the way into the tub which is delightfully warm enough and encourages you to sit between his legs.

At first you are still a bit shy about that but don't really have a choice as you both slide down and sit in the water. Your heartbeat is thundering, which doesn’t help the fact you can properly feel the shape of his cock against the bottom of your ass. It is way too late to shy away now. Tom is indeed hard, clearly turned on from having his naked wife in his arms for the first time. Leaning forward, he gives the nape of your neck a warm and sensual kiss while both of his hands caress up and down your now soaked legs.

"Mhm, Tom... Y-you can touch me..." you murmur to him leaning back and allowing him more access to your neck, which he takes advantage of with many more kisses and several gentle nibbles, enjoying your flavour.

"Where would you like me to touch you, gorgeous?"

Taking a breath, your hands slide under the water and grab both his, placing them against your breasts. Your matching golden rings make contact and instantly, Tom starts slowly and sensually groping them, earning some very satisfying skin tingling moans of his name from your perfectly pink lips.

"You make my mind so hazy, Tom... All the damn time" you whisper between light moans, his large hands making wonders.

Deciding to explore another part of your body, his fingers pet down your stomach and edge your legs further apart before gliding down the womanly outline of your slit.

"A-ah, Tom...!" you whimper out of surprise, but his touch is slow and sensual and it assures you he just wants to make you feel good.

When your body starts to relax, Tom continues his soft pleasuring of your lower lips, while still squeezing one of your breasts and kissing both your neck and shoulder several times. The moment he curls one digit between your warm folds, your entire body spasms with waves of foreign pleasure.

You begin panting, as if showcasing how unprepared you were for this sensation. But he calms you down using his free hand to push your cheek to meet his lips while he works a slow rhythm of back and forth. Quickly, the curl and sway of his slender digit starts to feel utterly amazing so he slowly adds a second one, making you moan of pleasure.

“O-oh, Tom! I-It feels so good!”

Tom grins as he nips at your neck to feel the vibrations of your mewls of delight, while he notes the subtle difference between the sticky sensation starting to warm his fingers and the water around. However after pleasuring you for awhile he pulls away and whispers into the rim of your ear, his desires to continue this in bed.

“(Y/n), I want you so fucking bad and I want to thoroughly enjoy you” Tom growls as he nibbles your lobe between his teeth, slightly tugging it.

It sounds almost desperate and what can you say? You were as much desperate as he is right now, so you have no intention of denying him after coming this far. You prove your husband how deeply in love you are with him by turning in his lap, wrapping both hands around his neck and deeply kissing him.

Using his amazing upper body strength to pick you up bridal style, he lets the water thoroughly drip from both your bodies before taking careful steps out of the tub. Thankfully, there is a rug on the floor so he doesn't slip or slide as he rests your butt down against the sink.

You smile at him with soft pink cheeks as he tries to dry you off a bit. But it is pretty much a lost cause since Tom just admires your body for the most part. He uses another towel to dry himself off a little before being very direct with the way he pushes apart your knees and picks you back up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his back and making you blush brightly as your hands cling to his broad shoulders.

The next thing you know, your back is laying against the soft mattress where he instantly starts some very sensual kisses. Starting with your lips and working down to your neck, eventually claiming one of your soft nipples.

"Mhm Tom, I love your kisses so much" you practically purr to him, unable to do much but run your hands through his brown locks and down just a bit of his smooth back muscles. Honestly, you are kind of grateful for his hungry desire to take the lead, as the way he is sucking and licking between both of your breasts just feels sensational.

His coffee orbs glance up as he lets go of one of your tits with a juicy pop and notes your closed eyes and relaxed features, finding it a nice time to go further south. He places soft kisses down your bellybutton, which let you know where he is going but you assure yourself you are okay as long as it is him.

With a lift of your leg, his eyes graze over the intimate pink outline of your womanhood, but he doesn't go towards your sex right away. His lips kiss softy at your inner thigh, bringing tingles up your spine as you find his slowness and need to appreciate all your body romantic and endearing.

"Your skin is so damn soft... And your smell is driving me crazy" Tom growls again, gliding his tongue up as he eases apart your knees until the tip of his wet muscle laps over the middle of your slit before instantaneously turning it into the most intimate French kiss you could ever imagine.

"O-oh! K-kissing me right there... i-is strange...!" you shyly murmur, gripping both of your hands against the sheets. But soon all you can think of is the enthralling sensation of his tongue as he thoroughly slides between your folds and thrusts back and forth, turning you into a moaning and mewling mess.

One of your hands finds its way into the back of his hair, where you give a few tugs in the throws of your pleasure. In turn both of his hand glide up your hips to keep you in place, while he continued to eat you out like one of the best meals he ever had in ages.

At this point, you are not sure if you are being loud or too quiet anymore, but the answer doesn’t really matter as the passionate sway of his tongue is talented enough to have the oddest sensation warming the pit of your stomach. But you don’t have the time to ask him because you are experiencing your very first orgasm.

"H-hah, fuck... You taste amazing, baby" Tom husks as he pulls back to lick the slick sweet essence of your arousal from his lips. He then wipes off the bottom of his chin before rising above your body to caress one of his hands against your cheek and give you a hasty kiss that lets you taste yourself.

“Oh Tom, I love you so much" you mutter during his flavourful kisses when suddenly, you can clearly feel the tip of his cock poking against your inner thigh.

"I love you too, so much” Tom kisses your lips a last time. “Ready to enjoy the ride, my beautiful wife?”

And as words are about to leave your mouth, Tom moves his face closer to you ear.

“And no need for me to take any blue pill, right?”

He for sure means it to sound like a tease. At a time like that. Well, it wouldn’t be Tom if he didn't remind you of the day you non-naturally made him excited because he was being such a brat. And remembering it right now is even worse, judging by the redness of your cheeks.

“S-Stop with that- aah!”

Yet again he does’t let you speak fully as his hips slide up to press the tip of his cock at your entrance. Griping both hands against your own, he fills you to the brim with his girth in a slow but smooth thrust.

"Ah-mhm... Ooh, Tom" you mumble of slight discomfort but you quickly assure your husband it doesn’t specially hurt too much, just feels sensational and unbearably tight at the same time.

He kisses your neck and lets you know you could claw or squeeze him as necessary if you feel any pain, which has you smiling and returning a peck to his cheek and another to his neck nuzzling him like a kitten.

"You can move Tommy, I'm okay..." you whisper into his ear, pulling back to meet his eyes where he most certainly doesn’t need to be told twice as hearing you use that particular nickname makes his stomach flip.

So he eases his hips backwards only to slap forward hard enough for you to toss your head and yelp out his name in a moan.

“Ah! Tommy!”

You feel him rock the most dizzying rhythm into your body that it has you squeezing his shoulders and moaning his name on harmonious repeat. That was the sexiest tune he has heard in his entire life. The sound of your voice and the pleasured look in your eyes feeding his desire all the more, as he thrusts his hips back and forth and then growls like an animal about how tight you are squeezing him.

"S-shit, I can feel how wet you are baby... Practically dripping all over my cock" he rasps while biting warmly at the side of your neck, to give you a mixture of possessive teeth marks and bright purple hickey.

You can’t even muster a reply as he picks up your legs and slides his warm strong hands under your ass to ensure he could pick up his pace to fuck you faster and deeper. Which you doesn’t seem to mind because your hand squeeze his sweaty back, and get off on both the pleasure and the sweet smell coming from his body.

He smirks before sharply claiming your lips, thrashing his hips back and forth and sloshing your juices that lets you know he wasn’t lying before when he said you were wet. That along with the accompanying smell of raunchy sex has your mind become so overly dizzy and hazy that you can barely concentrate.

His hips become sloppy with his desperation and you completely understand that feeling as you cling to him, even dragging a few of your nails down his back not really out of any pain but more so the intense sensation tightening in the pit of your stomach. With a few more hard and deep thrusts that rock both your bodies in perfect unison, Tom presses deeply into your tight pulsating folds allowing you both to achieve release simultaneously.

One hell of scream leaps from your vocal chords as the most vision blurring orgasm of the night sways through your system. Slowly Tom eases your bottom back down to the mattress since he has sort of propped up your lower body for those few aggressive minutes.

When coming back to his senses, Tom pulls out of your core causing you to hiss from the loss of being so full. He pants almost as heavily as you and after proudly and hungrily admiring both your mixed juices coming out from your core, the man slides down tiredly next to your side.

"How... do you feel, gorgeous?" he huffs, taking a few deep breaths as lazily bringing an arm around your frame to keep you close to his sweaty frame.

"I... f-feel a bit tired... but also good, really good..." you smile to him, cuddling closer and placing a kiss against the middle of his chest before snuggling your cheek against his soft and warm skin.

He sighs in relief, not voicing how he thought he was being a bit rougher than he meant to be, but instead runs one of his hands down the middle of your back in a soft soothing petting motion.

“Damn, the champagne!” Tom suddenly shouts out of nowhere, startling you a bit.

Tom reluctantly detaches from you, not without a sloppy kiss and stil butt naked, he runs back into the bathroom and comes back with the bottle in one hand and the flutes on the other. You also notice a small towel hanging on his shoulder, probably to clean you both from your previous activity.

You giggle at him, smiling warmly letting the thumping of his heart lull you as you finally share a glass of champagne, still naked and bodies tangled together and into the soft sheets. Both of you hold each other tightly, letting each other’s heat warm your bodies and just keep chatting until your eyelids feel too heavy to stay open.

Life sure feels great.

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beauregardlionett · 3 years

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all the stars your eyes could hold

AO3 Link

The circumstances under which the Mighty Nein found themselves invited to yet another party in Nicodranas were unclear. Beau was fairly certain it involved someone wanting Marion to perform, but had placed it under the guise of requesting the Nein’s attendance.

Ever since they assisted in the tentative peace treaty between the Empire and the Dynasty, word had been getting around about them. It was mildly unsettling for someone like Beau, who meant to operate in shadow. Thankfully, her more exuberant and colorful party members tended to garner the spotlight.

Leaning against an obnoxiously ostentatious marble column, nursing a drink far too fruity for her taste, Beau scanned the crowd. Caduceus had offered to gift her with True Sight again, but Beau had turned him down. While she appreciated the gesture, she wanted to be present this time.

Nobles in all states of fancy dress swept across the dance floor before her. Women with billowing skirts as they twirled through the ballroom, offering tittering laughter behind fans or hands adorned in silk gloves. Men with ornate suit coats sporting flushed cheeks as they drank away their decorum. Individuals dressed in pristine costume somewhere between a full skirt and fitted breeches flit between the food and drink and the dance floor. It was the sort of contained, upright chaos that Beau grew up around in Kamordah. It was a breed of debauchery that masqueraded as a proper party only nobles could attend and achieve.

With a heavy sigh, Beau took a long drag of her overly sweet drink and prayed the night would end soon.

As much as she loved wearing her slate grey suit, catching many approving, hungry stares from the women here, Beau was tired. Parties like these were far too pompous for her, pointless entertainment for nobles who had nothing better to do with their time.

She was considering slipping out to the garden for some quiet when a soft voice spoke up behind her.

“Beau?”

Twisting to peer over her shoulder, Beau worked hard to maintain her hold on her drink.

Yasha strode toward her, all but glowing in the sensual party lighting.

Jester insisted on splurging for a new dress for Yasha the day before. Something about wanting to amend the height of the slit because she knew Yasha was a little uncomfortable with it. Whatever the real reason was, Beau had no arguments because Yasha’s new dress was stunning. Made of a similar dark velvet as the previous one, this new garment draped over Yasha’s physique enticingly.

The dress was one-shouldered, a long cape of soft fabric cascading down Yasha’s back from the sleeveless strap. Her neckline was trimmed with silver flower embroidery, and a simple off-white belt cinched the length of the skirt into an empire waist. Veth had gently bullied the Aasimar into letting the Halfling style Yasha’s hair. So her now almost entirely white hair was pinned to drape down one side, the braids re-done and ancient tangles brushed smooth.

Simple, elegant, and extremely attractive.

Beau reminded herself to thank Jester for remembering to put the cape on the arm Yasha didn’t have a tattoo on. The jade ink was shimmering in the party’s dim lighting, and Beau had to make sure she wasn’t drooling.

“Hey,” Beau finally remembered to answer, eloquent as always.

Yasha’s lips twitched as she chuckled, coming to stand beside Beau. The monk watched as Yasha’s eyes swept over the crowd, a bit of unease flickering across the woman’s expression.

“You okay, Yasha?” Beau murmured, shifting closer to where their shoulders brushed.

“Yeah,” the Aasimar said, aiming a smile Beau’s way that did anything but convince her that Yasha was okay. “I just don’t really know what to do at parties. And people keep staring at me.”

Beau could hardly blame them. But it seemed to be a reoccurring theme with Yasha that wherever she went, both the best and the worst seemed to be drawn toward the Aasimar’s aura. Beau often failed at reigning in her jealousy born of protective instinct.

“Well then,” Beau pushed off the pillar, downed her drink against the burn of alcohol in her throat, and beamed at Yasha. “Shall we wander, then?”

Yasha blinked at Beau, giving the human a slow, shy smile and a nod, a quiet, “sure.”

Making their way around the perimeter of the ballroom, Beau caught sight of Jester swirling Fjord around the floor. The little Tiefling was grinning ear to ear and Beau could see her giggling giddily as her pink chiffon swirled around her and Fjord’s legs. The half-Orc was smiling with fond amusement down at whatever Jester was saying, looking rather smitten. Their second lap around the ballroom, deep in discussion about what the Elf wearing a bright green ball gown might do for a living, Beau scanned again. This time she spotted Veth and Caleb sitting at a table with Caduceus, the Halfling talking with rapid intent and animated hand-gestures. Caleb seemed fixated on whatever she was talking about, nodding every few seconds. Caduceus, smiling indulgently, caught Beau’s eye after a second. The Firbolg raised a brow her way and made a slight shooing gesture.

Waving Caduceus off, Beau continued her conversation with Yasha. But she did subtly steer them towards the exit, remembering the small side garden she had spotted on the way in. Part of her hoped it would offer some quiet, the other part hoped to see that adorable grin Yasha got on her face whenever she saw flowers.

Sure enough, the second they stepped out of the side hall and into the moonlit garden, Yasha’s lips curled into a wider smile. Beau trailed off from her description of a very crude occupation the Elf back in the ballroom could have to watch Yasha smile. The Aasimar’s profile all but glowed in the silver night, Beau transfixed with the way Yasha’s smile pushed her cheeks to round and scrunched her nose just a little. Her eyes crinkled at the corners just so, and Beau studied the temporary crow’s feet that nestled there.

Yasha looked her way and Beau blinked back at her, smiling in return on instinct.

“It’s gorgeous out here, Beau. How did you know this was here?”

“I just...saw it on the way in. Figured you might like it better than inside.”

“It’s very beautiful,” Yasha agreed, sweeping a look over the flowers as she walked through the neatly planted flora. Beau followed, drawn toward her like a moon caught in orbit with no choice but to gravitate.

As they strolled through the garden together, Beau’s hands shoved in her pockets, she tipped her head back to stare at the stars and the low-hanging moon. Maybe it was the nearby ocean, but she swore the night sky always shone brighter in Nicodranas. Yasha’s hair caught Beau’s attention out of the corner of her eye, all but glowing in the silver moonlight.

Everything about the Aasimar beside her beckoned like a lure, and Beau wondered not for the first time how she could have ever lived without Yasha. It was one of those moments where she found herself hard pressed to remember a time before Yasha, before the Nein. There was always an unfortunate set of memories that never failed to surface, but the more mundane memories were harder to access. Everything she did with the Nein felt like they had always been together, had always understood her. Beau knew it wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t care.

They were with her now, that was what mattered.

Time, Beau thought, was such a fickle and inconsistent mistress. She always lingered, but she didn’t serve everyone kindly or evenly.

Some got less - like Mollymauk. Some got more - like Caduceus brought back from death. And some like Lucien got multiple chances, while others like Yasha couldn’t even recall what Time had already given them.

Beau, uncertain where she fell on that sliding scale, knew one thing for sure.

“Yasha,” Beau said in a voice that sounded steadier than she felt. Back near the building where they started, Beau spotted an alcove with a small pristine marble fountain tucked into it. The Aasimar looked over at Beau curiously as the monk grabbed Yasha’s elbow and huddled them into the corner.

Yasha looked surprised as Beau put her own back against the wall and drew Yasha in closer. Even in the half light from the moon, Beau saw the blush on Yasha’s cheeks turning darker, her sturdy hands finding purchase on Beau’s hips.

“I’ll be honest,” Beau sighed, emboldened by the simple action. “This isn’t quite how I pictured doing this. I had, like, this whole thing planned with the tower, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Yasha’s eyes seemed entirely transfixed on Beau’s lips, as if watching the monk craft every syllable she spoke.

“I read your letter,” Beau confessed in a rush. “I actually read it like...weeks ago. And at first I uh...I didn’t know what to do. I had told myself that I wouldn’t make a move, that the ball was in your court because of all the shit you’ve gone through. But then you did make a move, and I haven’t ever really had someone look at me and understand me in the way you do. So I kind of panicked and procrastinated and told myself I’d figure something out. But then all this shit kept happening, and it never felt like the right time to breach the topic, y’know? But then I realized...we’re never promised tomorrow. Especially people like us. So uh...in an effort to spend as much time with you as possible, because I really want to spend a lot of time with you...”

Beau had to pause for a breath, her own cheeks now warm with the emotions swirling messily in her chest.

“I really like you, Yasha,” Beau whispered, feeling short of breath. “In a way that’s kind of terrifying, but that I’m also super into. I like you in a way that makes me nervous, the same feeling I get when we do something fun and dangerous. My heart races and there’s this thrill in my veins. I get stuck in this five-foot world that’s composed of everything and everyone I can see in the moment.”

Biting down on her tongue to stop her rambling and catch her breath, Beau looked up at Yasha. The Aasimar’s fingers curled a little tighter around Beau’s hips, and her lips parted with surprise. Wide eyes and flushed cheeks greeted Beau’s frantic search for emotion, and the monk was acutely aware of her own heart pounding behind her ribs. The moonlight back-lit Yasha, outlining her in silver, and Beau swore for a moment that it crafted a halo above the barbarian’s head.

“Beau,” Yasha whispered. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Beau rushed out breathlessly. “Please.”

Yasha ducked her head down so quickly that the press of her lips against Beau’s ended up gently knocking the monk’s head against the wall behind her. Beau didn’t mind at all, too busy smiling against Yasha’s lips and reaching to wrap her arms around the Aasimar’s neck.

It felt like all the air fled from Beau’s lungs for a moment, leaving her breathless and dizzy. The wall at her back and Yasha’s hands on her hips seemed like the only things keeping her upright at the moment. She had wanted to kiss Yasha for a while, but had never put much thought into it beyond that. Beau never imagined what it would feel like to kiss Yasha.

It was like melting and solidifying in the same instance. Beau had never felt more bodily present than she did at that moment, every place Yasha connected with her a physical anchor for her soul. But in the same breath, every fiber of her insides turned to contented mush under the searing, moonlit heat of the Aasimar’s attention.

Their kiss could have lasted seconds or minutes, and Beau wouldn’t have cared either way. Yasha pulled back enough for their noses to brush as they caught their breath.

“Fuck,” Beau managed eventually, sounding strangled with giddy pleasure.

Yasha smirked and offered a quiet, “maybe later, yeah?”

Beau’s brain promptly short-circuited and she stuttered what one might consider an enthusiastic agreement. Yasha took amused mercy on her after a moment and stepped back to let Beau breathe.

“We should uhm...” Yasha started, then stopped, glancing over her shoulder.

“Head back in?” Beau squeaked, recovered enough to speak once more.

“Probably,” Yasha nodded. The Aasimar hesitated, holding out her arm in an awkward, wordless invitation. Beau stared at her for a moment before recognizing the gesture for what it was. Straightening out her jacket with a firm tug and brisk pat down, the monk wound her arm through Yasha’s elbow and shot a giddy grin her way.

Beau decided, as they made their way back into the ballroom, that this was definitely one of the best parties she had ever been to.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing

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a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years

Text

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 22/?

Drama AU [this is just an idea tho, no plot basically]: “Did you find a bitch in me?”

[JC-focus crackships galore baby! title is from a Marina Diamandis’s song (“Hermit the Frog) but that’s probably not important for the non-plot so... yeah]

“So... wait a minute.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m still confused.”

“About?”

“Wen Qing... why should I know about your ex’s exes?”

“Because he’s a bisexual menace and I don’t want him to ruin this for me.”

“Jiang Cheng is not going to sleep with me.”

“What do you know tho? He’s that powerful.”

“Babe, I’m a lesbian.”

“And he has dated everyone in our circle of friends and their significant others.”

“Big lesbian energy, you’re absolutely right.”

“Thank you. I taught him well.”

or the only au where there’s only drama and no plot and JC went from experimenting to actively turning people gay or straight just because.

[attn: in this au Jin GuangShan is not, I repeat, not a bitch and did not, in fact, have other kids aside from Jin ZiXuan bc I say so. don’t make me complicate this non-existent plot more, please]

[under the cut for more!]

ok. got it. JC knows he’s no saint. hell, he doesn’t even qualify as a decent human being, alright. he’s that socially abominable. but things have escalated to a point where he doesn’t even know what to do. maybe become a hermit, lock his dick and call it a day. yeah, that should do the trick. because he really doesn’t know when it all started... no. that’s a lie. total bullshit. it was Nie HuaiSang.

so, SO, he may have been 16. sweet bush child with no future nor name. a great big sister, a stupid big bro, an overachieving mother, a distant father, the usual. save for fucking Nie HuaiSang and his stash of porn. and JC was straight. and he just wanted to check if the link his high school friend sent him was a jumpscare or not. he closed the tab right after the first moan echoed in his room late at night, he forgot to put the jack in and his earphones were possibly all the way back in his backpack on the kitchen table. fuck his life. and also fuck HuaiSang for being into weirdly sensual artsy porn on top of that. fuck his life. fuck the replay button too.

coincidentally, HuaiSang was his first kiss, first head, first everything only one year later and JC still talks to the jerk to an extent, but not because he wants to, okay? they were experimenting, but JC was still straight. he wanted to do good on his first actual relationship with a woman, whatever that meant for him at the time. HuaiSang was okay with that, the lying bastard. JC may or may not have grown fond of him by the time their graduation came, but they never got around to talk about it because they were stupid and young.

also, HuaiSang’s brother had caught them once and JC had known there and then why his non-boyfriend had decided to cut things loose afterwards. that jock was scary as fuck.

then. THEN. university came and Wen Qing was the one reminding JC he was still very much as straight and unbendable as he could get. it took him three years to not yell at her in frustration and ask her out: the sexual tension between them fueled by rivalry over good grades and the scholarship program they both wanted to have access to for their masters.

she had been the one asking him out. JC was lying about having the balls to do it, obviously. the fact that she also discovered to be a lesbian while being with him could have burned less, all things considered, but JC knew he had made love to her and that was enough for him. letting her go had been the right thing to do and they still talk everyday and she loves his nephew and everything is fine.

JC is FINE.

it only took him the two remaining years of his masters to get over her, but. FINE.

he’s not gonna talk about her brother. it happened only once. okay maybe once that particular night, at a bar and they were drunk and Wen Ning was nothing like his sister and the boy always had a slight crush on him and he was the one suggesting it, okay?

Wen Ning was kind and gentle and kissed way better than his sister and maybe after two years JC could get over it and move on and they could still be a family after all and that last stall in the staff toilet had been where JC’s bottom cherry was popped and oh gods that felt so good...

“actually, Jiang Cheng, you’re lovely. but I think I’m actually really straight so... I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends?”

yeah. JC’s not gonna talk about fucking Wen Ning.

maybe the fact that his brother Wei Ying got married so soon was the reason why. it has to be.

JC hated, HATED Lan Zhan. he hated how much in love they were. how softly they moved around each other. how much he wanted some of that as well.

and since he was THAT petty he had to flirt with Lan Zhan’s brother (Lan Huan) because of it. the man was terrifyingly good looking and a gentleman. so much he didn’t want to give in to JC’s requests... because he already had a boyfriend.

JC knew nothing about said boyfriend aside from the fact that he was apparently a snake, whatever Wei Ying meant by that.

Lan Huan looked very intrigued, but he’s also very loyal and JC admired him for that. he didn’t want to have that conversation tho, the one where Lan Huan politely asked him to stop being so charming in his periphery, so JC decided to hide for a month or two and maybe extended that period of time and never show his face again while he’s at it.

Lan Zhan would have also had his head on a fucking plate if he dared touching his precious older brother so, there’s that as well.

so he dated a bunch of people after swiping them on apps left and right, got the hitch out of his system and felt miserable about it.

Nie HuaiSang came back into his life like, the day before JC started working for a new company and asked him out for a drink. HuaiSang was crushing for a man too young for HuaiSang’s comfort because he usually liked older men and this boy was fresh out of his bachelor and JC’s friend was well in his late twenties and didn’t have a job yet and...

JC shut him up with a kiss and they felt slightly less lonely afterwards, until they actually talked about their issues and decided to stop being messy and grow out of their bad habits.

JC still fells sick at the idea of being someone else’s “bad habit” though.

Wen Chao was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s girlfriend was a mistake.

Wen Chao’s brother was a mistake.

Their bloody uncle was a mistake.

Their father was an even more spectacular mistake.

JC has yet to find out how he survived the year of his thirtieth birthday, honestly. that shit had been wild as fuck.

YanLi and her husband offered JC to look after Jin Ling more often in order to make him feel some sense of safety, he knew that much. at the time, JC hated the fact that ZiXuan worried over him and that his own sister didn’t know how to help him either.

people at work had started to treat him differently as well, now that they knew how messy he was. he started getting treated for depression soon after being promoted to supervisor, his workaholic tendencies saving him from himself after years of sleeping around and drinking too much for his own good.

A-Su was YanLi’s friend from university and was kind enough to ask him out one day. she stayed with him for a year before apologizing to him, saying she wanted something more: a family, a future, something JC could have not given her anytime soon.

his brother and Lan Zhan adopted a boy and JC became an uncle for the second time. A-Yuan was difficult to look after, having survived stressful living conditions in his early childhood, so Wei Ying appreciated the extra hand when JC offered it to him and his husband.

looking after children forced him to be not so angry all the time and now Jin Ling had a cousin he could play with and was very glad his Jiujiu was feeling better.

when Lan Huan came back into his life, JC had forgotten about even attempting to win him over in his early twenties. it felt life a lifetime had passed.

they started as friends this time around, but JC felt nothing for him and he was okay with that. they were good uncles to A-Yuan and that was enough.

what really caught JC off guard was when Meng Yao stumbled upon him one day in midwinter, crashing on JC and sending his briefcase up in the air. the older man was apologetic and kind and gods forbid JC still needed some of that in his life. even if it was the other who had crashed into him, JC offered to buy him coffee since Meng Yao’s cup was now sadly rolling out frame on the snowy path.

to his utter astonishment, Meng Yao accepted.

JC took his time with him, willing to slow down and really get to know this new man who seemed so welcoming and easily approachable... yet so impossibly far and unreachable.

Meng Yao confessed cheating on his previous partner with his best friend five years prior and how he felt undeserving of another chance with someone as kind as JC. he revealed how therapy helped him work on his tendency of manipulating others and that this was the only reason why he wanted to be honest with JC and tell him the truth. so that the younger man could make up his mind if Meng Yao could be granted a chance with him.

this heartfelt confession startled JC in the beginning, especially bc Meng Yao seemed adamant about not sleeping with him for the foreseeable future, unless they talked it out some more.

on JC’s thirty-fourth birthday, one year after meeting Meng Yao, JC asks him to marry him during a pleasant dinner the older man has planned for him.

to his horror and absolute joy, A-Yao accepts.

JC didn’t mind not having been intimate with him until then, nor he would have minded if A-Yao never happened to change his mind on the matter. JC felt safe with him, even when he saw him reminiscing the past with grief painting his features behind his fake smile. JC knew he could give him happiness and so he asked him to meet the Jiangs for the first time to announce the good news.

all but Wei Ying and his husband have arrived the even JC brought A-Yao home, their car stuck in traffic. they start eating without them, with the couple’s permission. YanLi and ZiXuan didn’t bring A-Ling this time around, not willing to leave too soon and waste a chance to really get to know the new member of their family. JC’s father seemed pleased to meet with A-Yao, exchanging pleasantries and conversing about common interests...but JC’s mother is weirdly cold and distant that night.

once dinner came to a end, finally Wei Ying arrived, apologizing profusely for making the lot of them eat without them. however, nor he or his husband could take their eyes off of A-Yao...and neither could JC’s fiancé.

“if you still have some dignity to spare, I suggest you leave this very moment,” said Lan Zhan, the most he has ever spoken in one breath in front of JC. to which, to JC’s astonishment, A-Yao answered by giving JC one last look and the saddest smile he had ever worn...before leaving the house and never look back.

confused, heartbroken, humiliated...JC didn’t know what to feel when Lan Zhan explained to the lot of them what Meng Yao had done to Lan Huan after eight years together. cheating on the kindest man alive with an old acquaintance of his that to that day remained unnamed bc Meng Yao refused to reveal their identity.

JC’s mother didn’t have to tell her son that she had known all along something was off about A-Yao: JC could feel it in the way she was looking at him, sitting next to him on the couch. she had a sixth sense for venomous people.

the following year, JC is pretty sure it passed in a blur. he remembers working less hard than what he was expected to do, been consequently and rightfully demoted in his company. others gossiped about him being so proud for nothing in the end, which aggravated his mood.

to his surprise, his mother was the one suggesting him to take a break somewhere nice. to clear his head for a month or two before deciding what to do with his life. Wei Ying booked him a trip to Taiwan the following day and in less than a week JC is on a plane to take a long vacation there.

one night, roughly a week after his arrival at the hotel, JC was staring blankly at the skyline in deep thought. he had done the tourist-y shit, eaten all the foods in the best restaurants, brought presents for his family. and now he was bored out of his mind. the same, old questions swirling in his mind: did A-Yao lie when he said he loved him? did he lie just so he could have a fresh start and forget about the past? did he leave bc he felt guilty for his past with Lan Huan? was he serious when he had accepted JC’s proposal?

that’s when Mo XuanYu came barging into his life like a hurricane.

the younger man, seven years his junior, spotted him from an adjacent balcony and proceeded to talk to him as if...trying to de-escalate a suicide attempt from his part.

“sir, please. I’m sure there’s more to life than this. I don’t know what happened to make you feel this way but...everything will be fine in the end. I promise you. I was there. It’s okay. please don’t jump over the balcony.”

JC had no intention of jumping, just to be clear, but something in his eyes must have caught the kid’s attention and...was that a steward uniform he was wearing? did he work for the hotel? JC was none the wiser but that was the first time someone had reassured him so wholeheartedly without even knowing him and it felt...weird.

he started tearing up and the younger man panicked, promising to keep him company all night if necessary, reaching out with a hand to touch JC and reassure him from the other side. JC grasped it gingerly in his own and let himself be coaxed back to the realm of the living by such gentle soul.

JC hated himself for sleeping with him not even a week after their encounter.

but it just felt so good to let himself be guided by hand to the most hidden and wonderful places. away from the tourist crowd, eating delicious food with someone smiling prettily at him. yet he hated himself more for thinking about someone else in bed with him, at least in the beginning.

Mo XuanYu seemed to know anyway, and even encouraged him to just do whatever he felt like with him. casual hookups didn’t have to be meaningful, the younger man had said, and it wasn’t even the first time someone used him as a rebound either. still, something ugly stirred in JC at that.

so he decided to stop thinking about himself for once and shoved every bad memory away. all to pour his affection into someone else and cater to his lover for the following month and a half. borrowed time of a stolen season, during which JC doted on the younger man and learned to listen.

some of the stories Mo XuanYu told him felt slightly familiar, almost as if they had a friend in common and didn’t know who it might have been. after his shift, the younger man would ask to eat with JC and share his frustrations, repaying him in kindness with sweet kisses and even sweeter smiles that felt a little bit too brittle in the morning, when he was bound to leave.

by the end of JC’s trip it was clear to him that he had grown fond of the other man, too much for his own good. but during a vacation, away from home, surrounded by new and exciting things...anyone would have worn a mask to forget their normal life, that reality they would have eventually been forced to come back to.

by the end of his vacation, JC had figured out who their common friend was and remembered how distant Nie HuaiSang had felt falling in love with Mo XuanYu. how sad the younger man’s emotional unavailability has made him feel.

and when they parted ways at the airport, JC kissed him goodbye and never saw him again. the memory of Mo XuanYu’s brittle smile engraved forever in the back of his mind.

back to work. back to his bad bitch persona. it felt good to focus on his job and nothing else for a year or two, keeping others at distance while bossing them from his office as he regained his boss’s trust. being promoted a second time gave him the confidence he needed to move on with his life and by his thirty-seventh birthday he could finally see a future for himself.

therapy was helping a great deal and even his siblings seemed to notice his progress, praising him for his willingness to seek help and his hard work.

A-Yuan and A-Ling included: the kids were growing up too fast, involving their uncle in their school projects and plans for mischief any chance they got to see him.

Lan Huan caught everyone by surprise one day in autumn by confirming YanLi and Wei Ying’s suspicions about his breakup with Nie MingJue, Nie HuaiSang’s older brother.

the older man didn’t tell them why he had stepped back from his engagement with the man, aside from saying that the both of them had found out something concerning about their past and common acquaintances. the discovery making them feel so disheartened to the point of braking their engagement of mutual accord.

JC felt bad for the man, knowing how much it hurt to lose someone so dear. not that they had had been able to discuss over the matter much, not even after A-Yao had left. it would have been awkward to talk about their common ex and his penchant for secrets and hurting other people’s feelings.

but they understood each other well enough and started talking more, out of their common interest in their nephews and their well-being.

five years later, JC was forty-two and content with his life. A-Ling was close to thirteen and A-Yuan quickly approaching fifteen. he could see them growing up and out of his reach, but their affection for him never wavered. until one day A-Yuan called him in the middle of the night, startling him awake.

apparently, his best friend JinGyi had called him for help after being beaten up by his foster mother and A-Yuan didn’t know what to do. calling his parents would have only alerted and worried Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, who were probably still asleep and hadn’t even noticed their son had sneaked out in the middle of the night.

panicked and worried, JC called Lan Huan instead and they left for the hospital. and something hurt at the sight of such a young boy lying still on a bed too big for him. something else clicked in JC’s brain at the sight but it would have taken him several months to realize what exactly.

furious and restless, Lan Huan spend months looking for the woman who had hurt the child, eventually destroying her in court until he pried a confession out of her. social services immediately alerted as JC inquired over the possibility of giving the child a permanent home himself.

not even a year later, JC was able to welcome the kid in their new house in the quietest part of town. it took a while for the boy to adjust, worrying over JC eventually changing his mind and letting him go. “who even adopts someone close to be of age?” JinGyi had asked, frustrated and certain JC would grow bored of him.

but JC was there to reassure him every step of the way, telling him family was forever and not something easily dismissible. he repeated it until the boy seemed satisfied and called him “dad” for the first time one inconspicuous evening at dinner. if JC cried on his pizza, well, nobody has to know.

Lan Huan was glad to listen to JC gushing over his son, more than supportive and borderline enthusiastic to listen to every little progress and new success.

JC knew this was enough, but he would lie saying he hadn’t felt loved by the other man. yet, he didn’t dare hope he could have another chance at happiness at almost fifty years old. Lan Huan himself close to fifty-five and well settled into his career as a lawyer...too much to consider a valuable partnership with someone like JC.

his therapist had bashed him for ages over such insecurity, but JC could only smile at him and shrug. many people didn’t find their happy ending and he still had JinGyi to look after. which seemed a good way to spend the rest of his life.

so it came as a surprise when, one evening, as JC overlooked at Lan Huan building a piece of furniture with JinGyi in their living room, he started crying with love and affection.

“why are you crying Jiang Cheng?”

“I’m happy.”

he really was.

he still is to this day.

[they don’t marry, but they do spend the rest of their life together anyway]

I need a break, this took days to make D:

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hoodoo12 · 4 years

Text

Ménage (5/13ish)

NSFW, smut, unexpected visitor, long chapter

It was odd to see someone else in her bed, but God, was it nice. When he was settled, she crawled up into the bed, straddling his hips, his cock trapped between the slick heat of her cunt and his stomach. Her breath caught as her hips gave an experimental roll, her hands braced on his chest, her hazel pinned to his amber. With a bit of adjusting, her hand wrapped around him, holding him at her entrance and slipping him inside.

"Oh fuck," she cursed lowly, her walls stretching to accommodate him, wishing she had pushed more than just one finger into herself earlier. It didn't hurt, but there was a burning that bordered on uncomfortable. Slowly, adjusting with each rock of her hips, she edged him all the way inside, nearly whimpering in pleasure at the sensation of being so full of him. "Shit, you feel so good . . . "

Watching a woman crawl up him was a sight he'd never tire of. Holding on to her thighs, his cock in her hand while she was up on her knees hovering above him was another snapshot saved in his mind's eye, but that mental camera began short-circuiting out as she settled lowly down onto him and his cock eased into the tight heat of her pussy.

"Easy baby," he cooed, seeing a flicker of uncertainty and possible discomfort on her face. "Just go slow, it feels so good, your pussy feels so good--fuck, do you realize how fucking amazing you look? How'd I get so lucky? Oh fuck--"

He had to close his eyes for a moment as her pelvis met his. She knew that the grip of her pussy and the clench and release of it around his cock was going to be enough to make him come right now, didn't she? He had to concentrate on something else, or he was going to explode right in her, and coming before she was even fully comfortable was going to be both disappointing for her and embarrassing for him.

Still, he cranked open his eyes to look up at her again. She looked like a true siren now, superior on him, her hair falling over her tits, her lips shiny and parted with the most enticing moan escaping her.

He reached up and gave one nipple a pinch before stretching further to push some of her hair away from her cheek.

"Molly, baby," he said, a bit of a needy whine flavoring his words, "when you're ready, when you feel comfortable, I want you to fuck me."

The added stimulation of his deft fingers pinching her nipple made her hiss between her teeth, able to feel the sudden tense of her inner walls around him. He was cooler than her, but warmed quickly, so thick and pressing deliciously against her insides. The need in his voice didn’t escape her, and neither did the way his eyes threw sparks, so intense and burning Molly swore she could almost see the amber flickering, like flames behind tempered glass.

It didn't take long for the burning to subside, and she grinned, leaning over him as her hips rolled, the movement so natural.

"Like this?"

He was transparent as glass, his moans rewarding her efforts. Her lips found his, starting with a languid pace; there was no need to rush this.

The tips of her hair tickled his chest and cheeks as she leaned over him, taking his hand and pressing it into the mattress beside his head, her fingers laced with his. Her tongue and hips rolled in synchronization, lazy and indulgent.

"You feel amazing," she whispered against his lips.

"You're a fucking goddess," Beetlejuice groaned, before her mouth pressed on his.

Her movements were slow and steady, just as he'd suggested, as she got used to the feeling of a cock inside her. She held still when she'd taken him in completely, then rose up by just using her core until he hissed with worry that he'd slip out of her and lose that delicious wet heat of her pussy.

He wanted fast and hard, that's what he'd come to expect the rare times he was called. This was more deliberate, more sensual, and by god or satan it was more than he thought he could take.

His hand rested on the words cosnaíonn na haingil inked into her thigh, squeezing in time with her gentle thrusting. It amused him that a demon like him was fucking such a woman as her. Where were her angels now?

She liked kissing while she moved. It was good he didn't need to breathe; he was able to suck at her tongue and softly nip at her lower lip that she'd broken open twice in his presence tonight.

Not being able to use his mouth didn't stop him from whispering to her,

"You're a succubus, babydoll--your cunt is so tight and sweet, it feels so good around my cock, fuck-fuck-fuck me, oh fuck--"

Bliss surged through him, and suddenly he was teetering over the edge of an orgasm.

His hand tightened exponentially on her leg and he extracted his mouth from hers.

"Stop-stop! I'm gonna come--baby, stop, please--!"

Her lips curled in a smile against his at the praise, her thigh nearly buzzing under his palm, as if the words of her tattoo were vibrating beneath her skin. It all felt so good, so gentle and slow, as if nothing in the world existed but the two of them. Even the slight pain of his teeth scraping the open spot on her lip seemed muted, just a dash of salt against the sweet.

Even with his lips glued to hers, he whispered in her ear; she was practically able to feel his tickling breath. Every word he spoke sent a frisson of heat down her spine, her hand tightening around his, and she almost didn't register the way his fingers squeezed her thigh, sinking into her flesh. Then his lips tore away from her, practically begged her to stop, and she did, practically screeching to a halt as she stilled over him, afraid she had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, are you okay?" Her hand cupped his cheek, studying his face as if looking for signs of anger. "Do you need me to get off of you?"

He gritted his teeth and lay as still as possible under her, even though his instinct was to keep going, keep that sweet friction mounting. He wanted to rut into her, he wanted to let the rush of pleasure consume him.

He also wanted to let all this linger. A soft bed and a gorgeous woman atop him was more than he'd had in a long time, and in the back of his mind, a twittering voice reminded him she was going to send him away once she used him.

"No, I'm good, I'm good," he groaned tightly. "I don't want you to get off me--I mean, I want you to get off, but not, you know? I just . . . fuck . . . I was just going to come and . . . I needed a break."

He managed to open his eyes again to hers.

"You're too good, baby," he praised. "I don't want to come in you if you don't want, and I want you to feel good. So tell me what you want."

It calmed her a bit when he assured her he wasn't upset or in pain, and she settled down on his chest, trying to keep her lower half as still as possible.

"Take as much time as you need, honey, I'm in no rush." The backs of her fingers strummed against his cheek, kiss-swollen lips curled in a cheeky smile. "It’s nice to know it’s that good for you and that I'm not some boring virgin."

For a moment, she gave his request thought, idly stroking her fingers through his hair.

"I think I want you to come inside of me. I got an IUD put in a few years ago, so you shouldn't be able to knock me up. Can you knock me up?"

He didn't actually have an answer to her question, but with an IUD, there was no chance of finding out anyway. He was grateful she stopped and let him have a moment, and after the pleasure had slowed to a constant buzz instead of one ratcheting higher and higher, he gave her a smile.

Her hair bounced as she shook her head, getting easily distracted from the task at hand.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to start again, sugar. I love how you feel inside me, it's so fucking good . . ." Still lying over his chest, her lips pressed to the hollow of his throat, lazily trailing up his neck. "I'd really like for you to play with my tits a little, honey."

Molly sat up a bit, giving him better access to her chest, her hands reaching to grab his and place them just above her breasts.

He liked the new position she'd taken, sitting up. It angled him differently inside her, and showcased her tits. He reached to them, cupping them as she asked, before rolling each nipple to hard peaks between his thumb and first finger.

"I don't know how long I'll last, baby, but fuck me again, like you were," he asked. "Roll your hips--it's fucking divine."

Although she'd asked, he let one tit go. Her more upright position gave him a new opportunity, and he licked his fingertips, and slipped them to her clit.

While she missed being close enough to kiss him, sitting up with one hand braced behind her on his thigh had its advantages, one being a shift in angle that let the head of his cock rub against her g-spot, and she let out a near purr at the sensation, his fingertips plucking her nipples.

"Oh fuck," she breathed, that first roll of her hips making stars shoot across her vision, quickly resuming her earlier pace.

Molly was nearly disappointed when one of his hands dropped from her chest, but at the sight of his tongue dragging across his fingertips and the slick rub of them against her clit, she keened, head thrown back in pleasure.

"Shit, oh, right there, sweetheart, right fucking there."

Her hips swiveled, pivoting over his, kittenish mewls of pleasure filling the air. Warmth pooled low in her pelvis, rising and rising, the breath stolen out of her lungs.

"Beej, fuck, don't stop, I'm gonna come . . ."

There were many things to concentrate on: her heavy breast in one hand, rubbing with increasing intensity the nub of her clit, her back arching as she rocked over him, her voice alternating between praise and moans. All that, plus the hot friction she created as she fucked him made the pleasure burst in his gut. He had no reserves to talk to her.

He'd have held out longer--he wanted to hold out longer!--but her pussy was too tight for him to resist. With an entire tensing of his middle and legs, he pushed up into her and groaned through clenched teeth as he came.

His body tensed, arched, and he groaned deep as something burst within her, her walls coated with sticky release. The sound of his orgasm alone was enough to tip her into hers, but experiencing firsthand the warm spurts of his cock inside her wrenched a near scream from her, bearing down hard as her orgasm slammed into her. Taut as a wire, her entire body shook, clenched, then released as the blinding pleasure faded, leaving her draped limp and trembling over his chest.

She didn't want to move, didn't want to slide him out of her, and she never dreamed she'd like the feeling of their combined fluids leaking out around him.

"Holy shit," she muttered, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself close to him, needing that contact, desperate to feel grounded. "Did the Earth move? I think the Earth moved."

The sensation of her pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock kept pleasure rippling through him. Watching her come apart, her body arched above him in a beautiful display of ecstasy made him smile and groan at the same time.

When she collapsed on his chest, he pushed the hair off her sweaty forehead and cheeks and kissed her at her hairline. The heat of her soaked into his bones, and he felt sated.

He chuckled at her awe.

"That was all you, babydoll," he told her. "I didn't do much of anything. But--"

He paused to cup her chin and have her look at him.

"--that doesn't mean I can't. You want some more, beautiful? Or would you just prefer to relax and sleep after the workout you just had?"

The gentle kiss just below her hairline made her scalp prickle, and she smiled, her embrace tightening a fraction. Pleasure and passion aside, this was what she wanted most from sex. The afterglow. The calming of hurried breath and gentle kisses pressed to sweaty skin, lying tangled and satisfied.

He grabbed her chin, his voice low, nearly a purr as he asked to go again, asked if she'd like to go again. Molly smiled, nodding as best she could with her chin in his grasp.

"More, definitely. We can sleep later."

He grinned and lifted his head so he could stretch towards her and kiss her.

"That's my good girl. Now, I want to taste your pussy properly. Lay back, and get comfortable."

By now, she was expecting his kiss to send a shiver of warmth through her, gentle and sweet. What she was not expecting was the searing heat that spread across her cheeks and pooled in her belly when he called her his good girl. This was certainly a night of discovery.

She did as he instructed, slipping off of him to lie down in her bed, propping herself up on a mountain of pillows and settling in, hair falling across the pillow around her head. She couldn't tell where the residual trembling from her first orgasm stopped and the anticipatory shaking to feel his mouth on her began.

He loved that she was so uninhibited that she simply agreed to his request. She lounged before him like this was what she deserved, and by gods, she did.

Similar to what she'd graced him with earlier, he righted himself and crawled towards her on all fours to settle between her spread thighs. Her hands reached for him and he allowed her to grab him by the scruff on his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss, but he ached to have his tongue between a different set of lips so he shook her off and grinned up at her as he sunk to his chest on the mattress.

There was wet smeared between her inner thighs and he spent a moment licking it off one, then the other, before looking up her body at her. With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, he lowered his mouth to her pussy and dragged his tongue through her folds.

The combined taste of her and his come that had leaked out of her made him groan in appreciation, and he licked her again, and again, coating his tongue, lips and chin in the flavor.

The kiss was grounding, a brief touch of lips to lips before he ventured down her body, the sight of him on all fours above her igniting some long-buried primal instinct to spread herself prone for him.

The brush of his tongue, soft as could be, on her inner thighs, made her shiver and whimper longingly, his mouth so close to where she wanted it. His gaze burned up at her, mouth open and grinning when he finally--finally!--licked through her folds.

Her hands slid into his hair, not pulling or guiding just yet, needing to touch some part of him while his devilish tongue lapped up the pool of their combined fluids. Her hips arched instinctively toward his mouth, seeking pleasure, seeking him, lifting one leg to rest over his shoulder.

"Oh god, Beej, fuck . . . "

Her moans, her hands in his hair, and her lifting a leg to allow him more access was all the permission he needed. He'd let her fuck her as slow and deliberate as she wanted or needed, but now--

He shoved his face into her pussy harder, the tip of his tongue slipping upwards to find her clit in her folds. He lapped softly at the bundle of nerves, then nuzzled in further to capture it between his lips to apply a little more pressure to it.

As he did, he lifted himself up just a little so one arm could fit between his chest and the mattress, and with no resistance in her at all, he dipped two fingers back into her, knuckle deep.

Tossing his voice near her ear while his mouth was occupied, he whispered,

"Is two good, baby girl? Or would three fingers fill you up better?"

There was no slow, easy pace now, no easing her into it; her fingers tightened in his hair, somehow feeling both overwhelmed and desperate for more as his tongue lapped over her clit, his stubble scratching deliciously at her thighs and tickling her folds. Her body writhed underneath him--she couldn't help it, left sensitive from her last orgasm, it simply felt too good to stay still.

"Three," she whispered, trying not to tug too hard on his hair as he buried himself deeper between her thighs.

She was quickly falling in love with the feeling of him filling her up, stretching her, rubbing along her inner walls, and she rolled her hips up as if to beckon him deeper, inviting another finger.

"Please, please, honey, please."

"Three it is, baby," Beetlejuice chuckled in her ear, and slipped the requested digit into her. Her wet and his residual come made a passable lube.

It made her pussy that much tighter and he crooked his fingers slightly, dragging them, pads up, along her inner walls until he found a spot that made her buck just a little bit harder against him. He kept them there, and applied steady pressure.

Her hands in his hair and their insistence he bury his face as far into her pussy as possible made him smile, and he sucked and lavished attention on her clit. He moaned too, caught up in her pushing against him, her moans, her obvious pleasure.

He was going to drive her absolutely crazy, his fingers three wide and slipping into her without a single ounce of resistance, as if her body were welcoming him home. Molly expected him to drive his fingers mercilessly into her, but they bent, pressing against that spot that made her toes curl, and remained there, maddeningly still. She bucked up into his mouth, rolled against his fingers, slivers of green just barely visible above the startling whites of her eyes.

A string of curses left her, muttered in an unbroken babble as he worried her clit with his mouth, alternating between licks, sucks, and nibbles. There was no question whether or not he was enjoying himself as well; she could feel as well as hear each moan he uttered against her, the sound seemingly transmitted along her flesh. Had he broken free to breathe once?

Her orgasm hit her without warning; she couldn’t have held it off if she’d tried, and she had no breath to notify him. Her throat locked in a silent scream, not a single sound escaping her as her body jack-knifed, sitting straight up as her thighs clamped around his head. Everything except the continuing press of his fingers and the ceaseless lapping of his tongue was erased; sounds were muted, the world around her dissolving into blurs of faded color. At last she collapsed against the bed, shaking all over, breasts heaving as she panted, hair an absolute mess as it fanned across the pillows.

The sharp movements of her body could've dislodged him, but he held himself pressed in tight with his free hand wrapped under her thigh. Her voice, once so full of dirty words, gasps and moans, was gone, and her thighs suddenly locked around his head, keeping exactly where he was, exactly where he wanted to be.

He continued to move his tongue softly against her clit as her pussy clenched his fingers, and only when the muscles slowed their rhythmic contractions and she was able to loosen her legs did he slip his digits out of her. There was a small pool of her wet in his palm, and he grinned as he gave her one last quick kiss on her clit.

As he pushed himself back into an upright position with her splayed before him, he licked his hand clean of her, even though his scruff was wet with it too.

"Sorry. Made a mess of your blanket, baby girl," he said. "Should've put a towel down. What I'm not sorry for, however, is spoiling you for any breathers. Unlike yours truly, they're gonna have to take a breath every once in a while."

What goes up must come down, and so she did, the world fading back into focus around her. His voice was soothing, though it took a couple of seconds to actually process what he was saying; she was too focused on his tongue lapping her slick off his hand like the juices of an exotic fruit.

She smiled, shaking her head. "I'll throw them in the wash when I can use my legs again. Christ, you're good at that."

Her hands opened and closed as she reached for him, like a toddler demanding her favorite toy, and pulled him down to lie on top of her, his head on her chest. She'd get up and change the sheets eventually, but she wanted this first, wanted his weight and his accumulated warmth to ground her weightless soul to her body.

"Ironic, when a demon's mouth makes you see God. Someone call Alanis Morissette." Her hands stroked through his hair as she laughed breathlessly, indulging in another's presence while it lasted.

He gave her a lopsided smirk at her praise, and didn't let himself preen too much. She'd admitted she didn't have experience, after all.

After a little bit of silence, letting her breath and heart rate go back to normal, she looked down at him, her fingers still petting his hair, which was somehow more tousled and wild than before.

"Do you need clothes to sleep in, honey? I might have some some sweats that could fit you."

He fully accepted her pulling him back onto her chest. It was his favorite bit afterward, listening to a breather's heart work, and lungs fill expand and contract, and even gut noises, if his ear was on someone's belly. It soothed him. There was nothing but stillness inside him; it was nice when a partner allowed him to pretend what he heard was his too.

His fingers found and traced the lines of her ink as she stroked his hair. He could drift here a long time.

She asked him if he needed something to sleep in, however, and that surprised him. He hadn't expected to spend any more time here; he was used to being called, fulfilling a task, and being sent away. To be offered sleepwear . . .

"I, uh . . ." He found his throat suddenly dry. ". . . I . . . yes? That'd be nice?"

The stutter and hesitation gave her heart a twinge; did he expect her to send him away so soon? As long as he wanted to be here, he was welcome, and if she was being honest, she was hoping he would stay for a while. Sex aside, he was rapidly growing on her, and she liked being around him, liked the way she felt around him.

Molly brushed a soft kiss across his forehead, then gently worked her way out from underneath him, having to lean on her night table to push herself upright on legs that still trembled.

"I'm gonna clean up in the bathroom real quick, then you can go clean up and change while I throw the sheets in the wash."

She gave him a fond smile before leaving the bedroom, cleaning herself with a warm cloth before brushing out her hair and pulling it back into a ponytail.

Back in her bedroom, she rummaged through the dresser, holding out articles of clothing at random and stuffing them back in the drawers until she had a pair of black sweatpants slung over her arm.

"These should fit. I don't have a shirt for you though, you're a little more broad in the chest than I am." Laying the pants on his lap, she stroked her fingers down his cheek. "I can order you some shirts tomorrow if you want some to sleep in."

He accepted the pants and hated that his fingers trembled as he did.

“These might be too warm for me, baby. Might have to chuck them in the middle of the night, and then you’re stuck with a naked specter in your bed,” he joked, to cover his shake and to hopefully help hide the fact he was more than eager to take them.

Without waiting for her to reply, he shuffled off in the direction of she’d taken for the bathroom.

"Oh no," she moaned in mock horror, "a naked ghost in my bed? What shall become of my maiden virtue?"

Once there with the door closed, he nosed through her cabinets and toiletries without much shame. He knew she expected him to wash, and did the bare minimum--face and crotch--before pulling the offered sweatpants on. They were soft and he wasn’t sure if he liked the elastic around his ankles. He’d suffered through worse, however,

He returned to the bedroom, where Molly was finishing remaking her bed. Slipping up behind her and wrapping his hands low on her hips, he first shoved his face into her ponytail, smelling her hair, before kissing her on the exposed nape of her neck.

“Blue looks much better on you than me,” he murmured.

Molly laughed as he retreated to the bathroom to change, tearing the sheets from the bed and tossing them into the wash. A soft smile stayed present on her face as she worked, bringing down extra pillows from her closet and spreading new sheets on the bed.

For as long as she had lived alone, it surprised her that his grasp on her hips from behind didn't startle her. Rather, she leaned back against him, tugging his hands tighter around her midsection, laying her head to the side to further expose her neck.

"Its funny you should say that. I've been thinking of dyeing it green."

"I'm partial to green myself," he admitted, with a chuckle, looking upward as if to see his own hair. "You look tired, babydoll. Let's lay down . . . summoning and then fucking a demon would exhaust anyone."

Her body turned in his arms, her hands lifting to stroke through his hair.

"Does your hair turn blue? Mm . . . must save you a fortune in hair dye," she murmured, starting to drift off. "So what does green mean? Happy? I thought I saw it pink in it earlier. Is that a demon thing?"

Despite the late hour and the pull of sleep on her body, she remained as full of questions as ever, curious to a fault.

He hummed in appreciation as she exposed more of her neck to him, but didn't protest as she twisted to face him.

As he settled her beside him with an arm under her neck, he quietly answered her question.

"It's a me thing, baby. A blessing and a curse, you know? I don't wear my heart on my sleeve . . . one, I don't have one, and two, my hair takes care of it for me."

She was tired; she didn't realize how much until he pulled her down into the bed, tucking his arm beneath her. Molly pressed against him and slipped her arm around his middle, her head pillowed on his bare chest as she wound her legs around his. God, it felt nice to curl up with someone.

Her fingers curled in idle patterns against his side, snuggling closer to him, undisturbed by his lack of heartbeat or respiration. He was still, peaceful, cool against her cheek. If he answered, she didn't hear, physical and emotional exhaustion dragging her into soothing, dreamless sleep, her new lover wrapped safe in her arms.

He watched as she fell asleep. It astounded him that a breather he'd just met trusted him enough to simply drift away in his presence.

He stayed with her for most of the night, listening to her breathe and basking in her warmth. Towards morning, however, he slipped out of her bed. He wanted to know more about someone who actively chose to separate herself from people, when his driving goal was to be noticed and seen.

Beetlejuice crept out of her bedroom and went to her kitchen, fully intending on digging through her things.

The night passed with hardly a stir, Molly fully knocked out by their amorous activities; at dawn, when Beetlejuice left her arms, she sighed in her sleep and snuggled against the pillows he'd been lying on, burrowing closer to his scent.

When she woke, the sun had risen, pouring golden light into her bedroom. Her hand slid across the rumpled sheets and found her bed empty, with only a clear indent of another body to prove he had been there. Her brow furrowed as she sat up, worried for a moment that he had left in the night, but then she heard footsteps and rattling come from the vicinity of her kitchen, and felt more at ease. He did seem the type to snoop.

She let him indulge his curiosity a little longer as she took a shower. Music rang from the tiles, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her. She was singing. When was the last time she had done that?

A grin spread on her face as she dried off, wrapping herself in a towel. Some coffee was definitely in order, she thought as she entered her bedroom . . . and screamed at the intruder sitting on her bed.

tbc . . .

@beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @thewolfisapartofmysoul @dilfyjuice @janitor-boy

#writing #fanfiction #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice x OC #rp #Beetlejuice based on blumjuice

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cxlvins · 4 years

Text

...000. INTRODUCTION.

helloooo lovelies ! my name is evan (he/him), i’m twenty-two and from the gmt timezone ! i’m super excited for this to open because i’ve got so much muse right now. i’m down for any and all plots, seriously, i love plotting ! this is calvin, he’s an angry mess of a character, but he’s fun to play, so ! if you just wanna get to know the character, you can skip past the other sections and just focus on personality, i’ve also put some wanted connections in there too ! if you would like to plot, then either shoot me a message here or on discord (heterosexual? how vintage!#8600) or alternatively, like this post and i will message you !

caution: alcohol, drugs, mental health, death.

›› ✱ xavier serrano, cismale, he/him. you’ve met calvin marx, right? they’re around twenty-three and a twitch streamer. they’re all about thrift store clothing and the faint smell of cologne and cigarettes, hence why they’re known as the spitfire around town. everyone knows them to be pretty gregarious but i’ve heard they’re actually sort of volatile, too… don’t tell them i said that, okay?

...001. BRIEF HISTORY.

calvin grew up very underprivileged for the first 11 years of his life in brooklyn, ny.

his father died when he was 5 years old to a drug overdose, leading his mother became a single mother to him and his younger sister, essentially meaning that calvin had to grow up and be the ‘man of the house’ without having a choice.

because of her new single-mother status, calvins mother had to work 3 different jobs in order for the family to pay rent (a cleaner in mornings, a store assistant in the day and a bartender in the evenings), which meant she was rarely home and left calvin to raise both himself and younger sister.

from a very early age, it was apparent that calvin suffered from anger issues, dyslexia and adhd, constantly getting into fights at every opportunity, his complete inability to focus and never managing to make it through a week at school without a phone call home.

these issues remained untreated, due to his mother putting it down to the ‘boys will be boys’ ideology, and concluding that calvin was just an energetic one at that.

because of this, calvin fell into the wrong crowd pretty quickly and settled into his mindset that he was never going to achieve all that much anyway, because no matter how hard he tried, he could never score well on any test at school.

at the age of 9, calvins mother met, fell in love with and soon married a former client for whom she cleaned for. calvins new step father was incredibly wealthy, due to being a successful franchisee and also being very largely into stock trading.

calvin, his sister and mother were all moved to his home in cherrybrooks, which calvin struggled to adjust to, as he missed his friends back north.

now having access to as much money as he want led him down an early path into experimenting with drugs and alcohol, which soon became a bad habit.

although he wanted to drop out of school, his new step-father would not allow it, which became a large source of conflict for the family over the course of the next few years.

failing to graduate high school at age eighteen, calvin couldn’t deal with living with his family any more and left the house to move into a small apartment, 30 minutes away, with a roommate (possibly a member of the clique).

calvins only real passions were for gaming and sport, and as he smoked and did way too many drugs to make it in any sporting profession, he turned his attention to twitch streaming. he began this pretty soon and built up a solid fanbase (which he wanted to call the marxists, but in calvins words, apparently some dead man already claimed that title).

...002. PERSONALITY.

calvin is a naturally angry person who can lose his cool and go from 0 to 100 in a matter of seconds, he rarely gives off signs that he is getting angry until he boils over, so people tend to watch what they say around him.

calvin is self-serving, his feelings will always come before those around him. although he is getting better at managing this, if something will result in calvin gaining something at the expense of somebody else, he will most likely go ahead with it.

calvin is not well educated, so he doesn’t tend to enjoy arguing with words, as he can never seem to find the ones to correctly express how he feels. instead, calvin is much more likely to act physically when something has irritated him (whether this be on a person or inanimate object).

calvin is an awful liar, he cannot lie to save his life as his face always tends to show when he doesn’t agree with an idea/opion/thought that somebody says. because of this, he is very outspoken, and will just say what he’s thinking regardless of if it’s going to hurt somebodies feelings. he’d rather upset them with the truth, than get caught out for lying.

calvin is an extrovert and gains energy from being around people - the more people the better, because of this, he has become a major party animal and loves attending any and all parties that is going on, despite if he’s fond of the hosts or not.

calvin is a heavy user of drugs, alcohol & cigarettes. this is primarily down to his naturally addictive personality and constant need to feel like he’s happy, so that he doesn’t get sad again. there will rarely be a day where he will not be intoxicated in some way and he will have a cigarette at least once an hour – and that’s on a good day.

calvin is very much into sports. although not a natural athlete, nor somebody interested in playing sports competitively, calvin loves watching any and all sports, and he likes to play them when he can. due to his smoking habit, he can’t play sports for too long, but will always give it a good go.

similarly to this, calvin is very much into gaming. calvin loves fast-paced games, because they manage to keep his attention despite him not having a very long attention span. most games that he plays are first person shooters, and he’s usually the guy on the mic screaming when a teammate fucks up during online play. a big appeal to him was that games were the only thing he could focus his mind on as a child.

calvin is very much a boys boy, he genuinely abides by the bible of ‘ bros before hoes ‘ because he’s stupid.

calvin hates movies but loves tv, he finds that watching moves involves sitting still for too long, but tv allows him to take more breaks and keeps his interest for longer. although. he’d probably trade both of them for a chance to leave the house.

...003. TRAITS.

[ G R E G A R I O U S ] (+) — a person fond of company; sociable.

[ I N T U I T I V E ] (+) — using or based on what one feels to be true even without conscious reasoning; instinctive.

[ F O R T H R I G H T ] (+) — direct and outspoken.

[ V O L A T I L E ] (-) — liable to change rapidly and unpredictably, especially for the worse.

[ V E N G E F U L ] (-) — not willing to forgive or excuse people’s faults or wrongdoings.

[ H E D O N I S T I C ] (-) — engaged in the pursuit of pleasure; sensually self-indulgent.

...004. WANTED CONNECTIONS.

CURRENT BEST FRIENDS — Possibly a boy squad? I live for a good boy squad. This person will have similar interests to Calvin, or be able to tolerate his volatile mood.

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS — Someone with a similar upbringing from Brooklyn, most likely they grew apart when Calvin moved to Wilmington.

RIDE OR DIES — Although he primarily looks out for himself, I’m down to have Calvin have one person who he’s loyal to and will refuse to betray, we can come up with a fun reason for why he cares so much if you’re interested in this one.

HIS ROOMMATE — Somebody that moved with Calvin into his current apartment when he moved out at 18.

A GOOD INFLUENCE ON CALVIN — One of my favorite connections for Calvin to have is somebody who knows all of his flaws and attempts to help fix them. They’ll have to be patient, though, as Calvin doesn’t see himself for having any issues.

SOMEBODY HE IS A BAD INFLUENCE OF — On the opposite, I love when Calvin has somebody that he can introduce to bad things, corrupt easily and get a kick out of watching the commotion.

EXES ON BAD TERMS — Cheating on each other is usually an easy one to go with, but if you want, we can think of something more unique as to how it all fucked up and why they now hate each other.

EXES ON GOOD TERMS — Maybe they still occasionally fuck? There could still be an attraction there, but just no romantic chemistry. Alternatively, they tried it and both just couldn’t see it going anywhere.

EXES WITH LINGERING FEELINGS — There’s a ton of different reasons for why there’s still lingering feelings. The feelings could be one-sided or both ways.

EX FLINGS — Started as friends with benefits, one of them wanted more, the other didn’t, they decided to stop before someone got hurt.

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS — No romantic intention, just a good way to kill time at 2 AM, or maybe it’s easy to know you have someone to go home to if you don’t find someone at a party.

FRIENDS FOR NECESSITY — This friend may not have that much in common with Calvin, they may not really get on in day to day life, but they are always there to get high, attend a party or do something dumb. an easy person to talk to when they’re both bored and wanna get out.

HIS YOUNGER SISTER — If anybody fancies a second character, I’m always down to have Calvins sister in the roleplay. They can either get along or not, we’ll just figure out the details.

EX FRIENDS — Used to be close but now aren’t, plenty of reasons as to why.

ENEMIES — Despise each other, seeing this person literally makes Calvins blood boil. Possibly sexual tension too if that would work, if not, they can just fight a lot.

WILL THEY / WON’T THEY — Lots of leading on and teasing each other, maybe they both think they’re stringing the other along but it turns out neither of them are interested? Maybe they start out not interested and it backfires later, by that time the other could’ve lost interest.

ANY OTHER IDEAS YOU THINK WILL WORK !

...005. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

Calvin is bisexual but heteroromantic, so any sexual-based connections can be taken by any gender.

Calvins Pinterest can be located here. Please note that it contains triggers for alcohol, drugs, blood & violence.

#chb.intro

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kitsune-translates · 5 years

Text

SCI 谜案集 [English Translation] Case 1: Number Killer

Number Killer 25 Suggestion

Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang drives to the address of professor Xu’s private clinic that Chen Jing provided. They wander about the area and make their way to a street of low-end bars.

Bai Yutang’s car would attract too much attentions, so they parked somewhere further away and strolled over.

That area is filled with local gangsters, bars, clubs…sensual places. Most people on the streets here are young, dressed bizarrely.

Zhan Zhao is checking the unit number when Bai Yutang suddenly pulls him closer to himself and puts his arms around him.

“What’s that for?” Zhan Zhao jerks his shoulder and glares at him.

“Hush.” Bai Yutang murmurs, “Don’t look back, someone is following us.”

….! … “How are we exposed so quickly?” Zhan Zhao asks in surprise.

Bai Yutang smiles, “Probably not what you are thinking of.”

“What do you mean?” Zhan Zhao gives him a confused look.

“You will see.” Bai Yutang pulls him into an empty alley.

They hear footsteps behind them, it sounds disordered, like there are more than one person.

Bai Yutang halts his steps and two men sprint up to them while another two stops behind them. The four of them fans out and traps Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang in the center.

Zhan Zhao observes the gang, they are all twenty something youngsters in punk outfits, their body tattooed and sporting bizarre hairstyles ---- Cosplay??

“You seem rich.” One of them sizes Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang up, “Lend me some cash.”

Zhan Zhao tries to hold back his laughter. A police captain is getting extorted, this is probably a first for Bai Yutang.

“It’s okay if you don’t have any money.” Another gangster reaches out smirking, “We can also have some fun together…” His hand heading straight for Zhan Zhao’s jaw.

Before anyone could react, Bai Yutang has already taken hold of that gangster’s hand, twisting it into an unnatural angle with a loud crackling sound --- it’s broken.

“AHHH.” The gangster falls onto the ground cradling his arm, screaming in pain.

The other three panics immediately.

Bai Yutang asks Zhan Zhao, “Do you still remember the moves I taught you?”

Zhan Zhao nods eagerly, a real fight, actual combat! This is a rare chance!

Bai Yutang shakes his head in resignation, and beckons his hands at the three gangsters.

The gangsters exchange a look and the leader yells, “Get him…” And all three of them charge towards them.　　

Bai Yutang steps forward, dodging one and blocks the other two’s advances.

The one that was dodged goes straight for Zhan Zhao.

Zhan Zhao repeats Bai Yutang’s teachings in his head, “Time yourself, put your right foot forward quickly, use your right arm to follow your opponent’s forearm movement, grab hold of your opponent’s left shoulder with your left hand, your left foot step forward against the outside of your opponent’s left leg, turn your body around, pull down your hands towards the right, and throw your opponent’s body forward.”

With a loud thud, the gangster flies out and got a mouthful of mud.

Yay~ Zhan Zhao holds up a small fist pump. He turns around to see Bai Yutang has already taken care of the other two gangsters and is staring back at him.

Bai Yutang sees the adorable expression of ‘That was fun, I want to do it again’ on Zhan Zhao’s face. He really wants to pull Zhan Zhao over and kiss him, but… Never mind, he will probably get punched.

He picks up a random gangster from the floor, “Do you still want to continue?”

“Cough… No… please, no more.” The gangster begs while coughing.

“This address.” Bai Yutang lifts the gangster up, Zhan Zhao also closes in with interest as well, “Is it around the area?”

The gangster squints his eyes at the address and nods, “Yes…Yes, it’s in the house over there.”

Bai Yutang lets go of the guy and the whole gang flees immediately. Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao have no interest in pursuing them and head straight for the house instead.

It’s two-storeys house, the tattered roll-up gate is half open, inside is the pitch black corridor.

Bai Yutang peeks into the corridor and retrieves his torchlight from his pocket. He turns back at Zhan Zhao and murmers, “Be careful!”

“Okay.” Zhan Zhao nods and follows him.

The two of them walks into the corridor. According to Chen Jing, the clinic is on the second floor.

They move up the stairs carefully, unlike the pitch darkness on the first floor, there are dim lights leaking out of the second floor.

Switching off his torchlight, Bai Yutang stops, blocking Zhan Zhao’s way.

Zhan Zhao looks at him in confusion, Bai Yutang pulls out his gun and points at his own nose. Zhan Zhao takes a sniff at the air, there’s indeed a heavy scent --- the smell of blood

He pulls out his gun as well and gives Bai Yutang an anxious look.

The two of them part ways and closes in to the room from different sides.

The room door is not closed tightly, only shut lightly.

Bai Yutang nudges the door open, the light inside the room is dull crimson and he is immediately overwhelmed with strong smell of blood. Zhan Zhao frowns, no matter who it is, the person would not still be alive after so much bleeding.

The two of them slides into the room and are immediately shocked by the scene in front of them.　　

They spot professor Xu lying flat on the ground, his throat cut, the entire floor is covered in blood. From the colour and the coagulation of the blood, he has been dead for at least 24 hours.

As colleagues who have worked together, Zhan Zhao couldn’t bear to see professor Xu in this state, he turns his head away.

Bai Yutang does a quick check of the room and calls the S.C.I. team in resignation.

This sinister house is surrounded by police vehicles in no time, barricading the curious public from the house. Zhan Zhao is sitting in the police vehicle, deep in thoughts. Bai Yutang opens a can of hot coffee for him, “Are you alright?”

Zhan Zhao accepts the coffee, holding it with both hands, feeling the warmth from the can warding off the coldness surrounding him, “What do you think?”

Bai Yutang sighs and sits down next to him, “It feels like things have gone out of control.”

“I thought that once we find professor Xu, we would be able to close this case. But he ended up murdered.” Zhan Zhao takes a sip at his coffee, “This taste like crap.”

“That Dr Zhang is a suspect.” Bai Yutang takes the coffee out of Zhan Zhao’s hand, “It tastes like crap?” He tries a sip, and tosses the coffee away, frowning, “Like this can of coffee, I bought it for drinking, but it is more useful as a hand-warmer compared to for drinking.”

Zhan Zhao chuckles, lowering his head.

“What are you laughing at? Stupid cat!” Bai Yutang scratches his head.

“The way you comfort people is terrible!” Zhan Zhao looks up, “Being logically doesn’t suit you at all.”

“But you still laughed!” Bai Yutang nudges him with his shoulder, “I am good at everything!”

…

“Cap, we are done surveying the area.”

Bai Yutang nods, “Found anything useful?”

Wang Chao shakes his head, “Nothing, not even the murder weapon.”

“What about Zhang Long?” Zhan Zhao asks.

“I called him just now, he hasn’t found Dr Zhang yet, he’s still working on it.” Wang Chao answers, “Xu Qing them are still at the school…That guy seems to have evaporated from the face of earth.”

“Keep looking, stay sharp.”

“Yes Sir.”

Just when he was ready to leave, Bai Yutang’s phone rings suddenly. Picking his phone up, Bai Yutang is startled at the caller ID, “It’s from commissioner Bao.”

“Hello. Commissioner?”

…

The phonecall only lasted for ten seconds, but Bai Yutang’s face is filled with alarm and shock.

“What’s wrong?” Zhan Zhao rarely see Bai Yutang like this, he has a bad feeling, “What happened?”

Bai Yutang puts his phone down and gazes over at Zhan Zhao, “Zhao Jue escaped.”

“…What?!...” Zhan Zhao almost jumps, “How…how is that possible?”

“Commissioner Bao asked us to go over first. Let’s go, cat.” Bai Yutang tugs Zhan Zhao along with him towards his car, he yells back at Wang Chao, “Get some people and follow me.”

The trip normally would take three hours, but Bai Yutang took only an hour to get there. Zhan Zhao knows how stressed Bai Yutang is just from the way he is driving his car like a plane.

Once they reach the research center, they head straight for Zhao Jue’s cell.

Bao Zheng is smoking outside the room, judging from all the cigarette butts on the floor, he had been here for quite a while.

“How did this happen?” Looking at the empty cell, Bai Yutang asks Bao Zheng.

“We got him on the film.” Bringing the two to the control room, Bao Zheng turns on the monitor: The image is clear enough, the person who brought Zhao Jue out is Dr Zhang.

“Zhang Boyi, forty-two years old, famous psychologist, he is one of the researchers in the research center, so he has access to the cell.” Bao Zheng puts out his cigarette, “He knows the place well, he got Zhao Jue out when the guards are changing shift.”

Bao Zheng takes a look at Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao’s tightly knitted brows, “You two don’t have to be too worked up over this, we will put out an arrest warrant for him. I asked you to come because I wanted Xiao Zhan to take a look at Zhao Jue’s room.”

“His room?” Zhan Zhao looks confused.

“Hm.” Bao Zheng chuckles, “Didn’t you notice something wrong with it the last time?”

“…” Zhan Zhao turns around to glare at Bai Yutang.

Bai Yutang shakes his hand quicly, “I didn’t say anything.”

Bao Zheng shakes his head, “Although I’m older than I used to be, but I’m not blind. The two of you are acting so secretively, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you are up to.”

Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang exchanges a look and lowers their head in embarrassment.

“Now, the two of you, be careful, especially Xiao Zhan.” Bao Zheng stops them who are heading out, “And your brother.”

Bai Yutang looks nervous immediately, “You think, Zhao Jue will try to harm cat and my brother?”

Bao Zheng nods.

…

“My brother discovered his secret back then, that I can understand, but, cat has no connection with him whatsoever.” Bai Yutang seems rather worked up, “Why would he try to harm cat?”

Zhan Zhao tugs Bai Yutang back, “Yutang, calm down.”

Bai Yutang jerks away and continues, “What happened back then? Why didn’t you say anything? What’s there that you can’t tell us?”

Bao Zheng grins at the pissed off Bai Yutang and worried Zhan Zhao behind him suddenly.

He lets go a long sigh, “Twenty years ago, I have seen scenes like this as well.”

“…?...” Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang exchanges a look and turns back at Bao Zheng in confusion.

Bao Zheng pulls a chair over and sits down, “Back then, Yunwen and I were like this as well, easily agitated. Zhao Jue would always be the one holding us back and helping us to come up with solutions. It isn’t because the thing that happened was a secret… but because, we really don’t want to mention it again.” He lights yet another cigarette, “Do you know, why Zhao Jue has killed so many?”

The two shakes their head, Bao Zheng smiles bitterly, “Because back then, police works were very traditional. Zhao Jue’s idea of using psychological analysis would always come under criticism. He recommended setting up a special department for psychological analysis and recruit specialised psychologists to work on criminal profiles many times…But it was scorned upon every single time.”

“He wanted to prove that psychology works, that’s why he went to kill people?” Zhan Zhao asks.

“Yep.” Bao Zheng inhales, “He used psychological suggestion to kill, then use psychological analysis to save those people… He made a fool out of those who used to mock at him.”

Bai Yutang has calmed down by now, “He wants to harm Zhan Zhao, because of jealousy?”

Bao Zheng nods, “Do you know what is the last thing he said before being fitted with the silencer?” He inhales again, “He said he is jealous, jealous of me, of Yunwen, of everyone…He said a genius, must find a stage for himself, if not, the genius will live in more misery than those fools. Everything he did, was to create a stage for himself, that’s all.”

Hearing Bao Zheng’s words, Zhan Zhao seems to be in a daze, “If, the psychology research center already existed back then, if such department was already established…”

Bao Zheng nods, “Then he would be just like you.”

…Bao Zheng falls into silence, seems to be lost in his memory. Bai Yutang and Zhan Zhao note the regret and sorrow in his eyes. An expression, Bai Yutang is very familiar with. He has watched it for over twenty years, his old man would make this face often, while smoking and deep in thoughts…filled with endless regret and sorrow. When he was younger, he thought it looked super manly, but now that he recalls it, he was fortunate.

“Smoke less.” Bai Yutang tells Bao Zheng, “It’s bad for you.” He leaves with Zhan Zhao after speaking.

They return to Zhao Jue’s room, Zhan Zhao walks in and starts to examine the room carefully. He seats himself on the red chair and flips through all the sketches that Zhao Jue has left behind. Bai Yutang sits outside and gazes at Zhan Zhao inside the room dully. Time passes slowly as the sky outside turns white.

Zhan Zhao stands up and leaves the cell.

“Cat?” Bai Yutang notices Zhan Zhao’s paleness, he seems to be in discomfort. Bai Yutang walks up to Zhan Zhao, while Zhan Zhao shudders, “Cat!”

He reaches out to catch Zhan Zhao’s falling body, “Cat, what’s wrong?”

Bai Yutang pulls Zhan Zhao into his embrace and touches his face gently, “What’s wrong? Exhausted?”

“No…” Zhan Zhao holds onto Bai Yutang weakly, “Lock…lock the room. Don’t look at those drawings.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Bai Yutang asks in confusion.

“Gather…everyone in the research center, they need psychotherapy.” Zhan Zhao calms his breath, and colours starts to return to his face, “Zhao Jue has sketched psychological suggestions into his drawings…Those who has viewed the drawings often is likely to commit suicide, or murder…”

#sci 谜案集 #sci谜案集 #sci mianji #its a new year~#阴阳师策划又在跨年开超鬼王 #哼 #肝死我了 #沉迷游戏无心翻译 #哎别打我

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quakerjoe · 5 years

Text

A Cuppa Joe for 3 January 2019

Regarding Patriotism

Patriotism. What the fuck IS that exactly? I used to think it stemmed from the nation’s actual motto “E Pluribus Unum” meaning “From Many, One” where we all stand together, united, as one people, Americans, and look out for one another. That was a hard delusion to wake up from. While such a thing is possible if we so desire it, it isn’t going to happen evidently. Seriously, think about this for a moment. Who do you see the most out here going on about “patriotism” today? Angry white dudes. I don’t see African Americans out there blowing the “Look at me, asshole! I’m a PATRIOT!” horns loudly, nor anyone from the LGBTQ community or from any minority such as our Islamic/Arabic neighbors who came here to get away from all the radical, violent religious bullshit and just want to pray in peace. Angry. White. Dudes. All pining for a “Christian Nation” while acting exactly the opposite to the teachings of Christ. They clean their guns and play circle-jerk warrior in the woods with their limp-dick friends because they’re too much of a sad sack to actually JOIN the military and SERVE. THAT would be Patriotism.

Then again, is serving in the military really being patriotic anymore? I was proud when I served, but looking back on it, WHO was I really serving? Was I truly protecting the US from some threat? Not really. We’re on the other side of the planet, far away from any direct threat. Two massive oceans divide us from any other military that may want to harm us. Then again, WHY would any other military even WANT to harm us? Could it have something to do with the way this nation invades other nations to topple their elected governments and establish banana republics in order to get what “we” want from them? By “we”, I of course don’t mean that you or I give a shit what the price of bananas is. Oil, on the other hand… We all care about oil prices because we’re constantly being blocked from developing and using green power sources so that the rich twats in Big Fossil Fuels can get even richer. They spend thousands on buying elected officials here who band together and pass a tax break law that gives those rich twats savings in the millions and even billions.

But do Central and South American nations have a mobile force to invade us? Fuck no. What about Persian nations that we and other European nations carved up for oil field access, ignoring the territories if Sunni and Shiite, creating nations that have all sort of in-fighting between the two peoples? That’s on us, kids. Still, they don’t have a military worth a damn that can cross the oceans and get to us. So is being over THERE being “patriotic” and really defending our freedom? Fuck no. So WHO are we serving? Rich. White. Dudes. Period. Are THEY “patriotic”? They bribe the government to use military force in nations that they want something from, like oil, or poppy fields for Big Pharma, and they USE us as cheap mercenaries; cannon fodder to secure their FINANCIAL interests, and the thanks veterans get when they get home is shit wages, their families on some sort of financial assistance, and when they need medical or mental health, we practically ignore them and then wonder why the suicide rate for returning vets is so high. Fewer mouths for Uncle Sam to feed, right? Meanwhile, the rich, white dudes don’t ever have to look at them or deal with them and even though the blood is on their hands from war, they weren’t the ones sent in to do the killing. THEY don’t have to deal with the consequences; they just cash in and get rich. No guilt. No empathy. No PTSD. Nada. Just loads of cash. Meanwhile, we use up our munitions and equipment and keep the War Machine and major contractors super-financed in contracts that aren’t bid for anymore. That doesn’t sound at all patriotic to me, but there’s something you need to understand.

YOU are not a person, you’re a component. You’re something to exploit and rob. When people in government today see “We the People” they automatically see that as “We the Rich Fuckers” and the rest of us are the plebes; the livestock that generates money for them and we don’t matter to them. If we did, we’d have had free healthcare coverage and education decades ago, and it’d also be the best on the planet and there’d be a sense of pride in being an American from the richest down to the poorest because we’d be at our healthiest and our smartest. Instead, we revel in our arrogance, our ignorance, and our stupidity. We roll in a puddle of hubris and it seems that most “patriots” don’t even know what that word means. THAT, dear Joes, is the new definition of “patriotism” among the ‘plebe class’, and just like in days of Olde, when the Constitution was first drafted, “People” meant the wealthy class who owned land and property and were the only ones who voted. They got the good food, the good medicine, and the good education while you got little to none of any of it and you’d have been working since the day you could walk and talk at the same time until the day you dropped dead. That’s what MAGA is all about, only trumplefuckstick’s supporters are poor, stupid fucks who must believe that they’re really millionaires who are temporarily inconvenienced at the moment and that they’ll be rich soon with 45 at the helm.

Their idea of “patriotism” is to literally shit on everyone here that isn’t of their ilk- ignorant-as-fuck white, cist-gendered, white, “Christian” MEN or their brainwashed, sidekick women who dine on hate as well. They’re praying for the End of Days one moment, while hoping that just before that happens they get an opportunity to hunt down and murder Obama or HRC or just go on an all-out “nigger hunt” or a chance to do-in the “towelheads” living here. They’re praying for a chance to slaughter anyone LGBTQ because the bible calls them an abomination to be destroyed. They give me the impression that they watch “The Handmaiden’s Tale” and jerk off to it because using women as breeding stock and enslaving them and killing the “uppity ones” is a dirty, wet dream of theirs, and they call it “patriotic”.

So someone out there, please remind me what it truly means to be a Patriot of the United States of America. As far as I can see, we went from aspirations towards “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country” to “I got mine; fuck the rest of y’all! Bootstraps, fucker! Pull yourself up or just die ‘cause I’m not going to help you. I had to work hard to get what I’ve got. Get a job!” Instead of looking UP at the rich and powerful shitting on us, too many of us are looking down at those less fortunate than those wielding the “White Privilege” card and blaming the POOR for all their woes as they look down their noses at them and continue to let the shit roll downhill instead of reaching down to help someone up. It’s a disgrace. It’s the OPPOSITE of being patriotic. It’s the COMPLETE OPPOSITE of what I was taught it meant to be an actual Christian and frankly, the level of hypocrisy from the religious people here is sickening, insulting, and fucking INSANE.

I tire of so-called “Christians” showing up here telling me that they’re not ALL bad. Well, they ARE. If you’re watching evil transpire before you and you do NOTHING, you’re guilty of that evil too, and frankly I am still waiting for some sort of allied Christian movement to get together enough to call out the ‘false prophets’ getting rich in this country and getting behind, en masse, to see to it we get Universal Healthcare for ALL, a bolstered safety net program that includes “food stamps”, the promotion of medicines and science because if there is a god, we were blessed with senses that should be trying to study how He/She/It made the universe and how to make the world a healthier, safer place of PEACE, not a nation with a bloated military budget that can’t even pass muster when audited while people here in our own country are going hungry and homeless because “fuck you, you peasant, that’s why”. If your idea of being a “Christian” is ignoring the bible and praying at home, in private and you insist on going to a tax have to pray (yes, church) then you’d better be DOING something to fight against the evils sweeping the nation and against the tenants of Jesus. Evangelicals, or Talibangelists as I call them, are on the move. Where the fuck are YOU? Yeah, hanging around your community trying to do “good deeds” is sweet and all, but wouldn’t it fight hunger and poverty MORE, in line with Christ’s teachings, if you got off your ass and rallied AGAINST the Talibangelists and called them out on their bullshit? Where’s your presence in the REAL clear and present danger here? Where is YOUR voice when it comes to defeating the false prophets we’ve been warned repeatedly about?

>Matthew 7:15 clearly states “Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are raving wolves.” Perhaps you “Christians” should STOP ELECTING THEM! Forwarding and backing known pedophiles and sex offenders doesn’t sound too Christian OR patriotic to me.

>Matthew 24:11 Jesus says “and many false prophets will appear and lead many astray.” Sounds like the brainless twats on FOX and trumplefuckstick lying to the masses who slop back the shit like it is gravy and not the feces that it is.

>Matthew 24:24 says “For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect.”

>Second Peter 2:1-3 “But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep.”

>First John 4:1 “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.” So forgive my skepticism of all you alleged “Christians”, but I’ll believe in you when you SHOW me that you’re not all talk and no ACTION.

> Jeremiah 23:16 Tell me this one doesn’t apply to suckers who vote GOP and Corporate Democrat as well as those fuckwits who go to mega-churches to throw away their money and their souls: “This is what the LORD Almighty says: “Do not listen to what the prophets are prophesying to you; they fill you with false hopes. They speak visions from their own minds, not from the mouth of the LORD.”

> Ezekiel 13:9 “My hand will be against the prophets who see false visions and who give lying divinations. They shall not be in the council of my people, nor be enrolled in the register of the house of Israel, nor shall they enter the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord God.” We have truly FAILED as a nation at this one, kids. So quit with all the religious preaching on my page. If you haven’t sold all you own and have given it all to the poor, then I’m not going to take you seriously. (Matthew 19:21 and Luke 18:22).

From what my parents and grandparents taught me, part of being a Patriot was to confront evil and help those in need, and honestly, I’m not seeing it from the “Christian” community, only their hubris and vanity and a defensive sense of pride compounded with an extremist element here that uses the Bible as license to commit all manner of atrocities against their fellow countrymen/women etc. even though we were WARNED about this sort of fuckery- “because they are turning whole families away from the truth by their false teaching. And they do it only for money” (Titus 1:11) AND “Perverse disputings of men of corrupt minds, and destitute of the truth, supposing that gain is godliness: from such withdraw thyself.” (1 Timothy 6:5).

If you haven’t noticed, we are HERE:

> 2nd Tim 4:3-4 “the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.” So let’s just pull this sanctimonious bus off to the side of the pretentiousness highway and cut the shit with your religious ramblings and let’s focus on saving the world and figuring out what it truly means to be “patriotic”, shall we? We SHOULD be looking out for one another REGARDLESS of religious beliefs.

Having said all that, Dear Joes, tell me this- how do YOU define “Patriotism” today?

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rantingwriter · 6 years

Note

Can I get some amusement park HCs for Yamamoto, Adult Lambo, Mukuro, and Hibari?

(Sorry for the wait, been a weird time for me and my brain and my writing in general)

Yamamoto: The adorable couple

Hand holding all day long

he doesn’t want to lose you in a crowd

plus he wants to spend every possible second with you

laughs on every ride

you could be screaming blood murder or repeat the phrase “I’M GONNA DIE!”

He will just laugh and tell you it will be fine

He will want to go on all the couple oriented rides too.

Like the swan boat or tunnel of love

he will put his arm around your shoulder and snuggle the whole ride

Share his food

like a cheesy romance film

sharing one milkshake with two straws and other little treats

Heck, you will take turns feeding each other.

People will be jealous

they will also be blinded by the shining halo of happiness that occurs around the two of you as you talk

They will stare, but none will try to flirt with either of you

Okay, they will try, but they won’t get your attention.

Adult Lambo: Surprisingly flustered

He is kind of a flirt

so going on a legit date with someone

will have him blushing and panicked for a good portion of the start of the date

Even after dating the person for awhile

Scared on roller coasters

he will try to act suave

but once the extra speedy ones go off

screams for days

He will also want to hit the couple oriented rides

they are nice and slow and give him a chance to recover

he will also steal some kisses from you

only kisses and an arm around the shoulder, he isn’t one for extreme public displays of affection

He will pay for lunch and stuff

not really one for cheesy romance stuff

but don’t be surprised if he does something slightly sensual

like lick something off the corner of your mouth or something

he doesn’t want to be the only one blushing on this date ;)

People will stare at him, but none will interefere

he will make it a point to make it obvious he is taken

Mukuro: Shockingly a gentleman

He is mischievous normally

but when out on a date, he stows the mischief and focuses on you

He will do whatever you want

you want to ride a roller coaster, he will too

you want to ride bumper cars or low key rides, he is there

he draws the line at kiddy rides, he will never get on one unless he has a child of his own

Couple themed rides are where his mischief will peek out

Dark rooms where no one can really see, he will get handsy

hand slowly sliding on your thigh

fingers brushing your back or stomach as he plays with the hem of your shirt

possibly even nip your ear or neck

BUT, if you tell him to stop, he will instantly dial it back

He cares about you, even if it doesn’t always show

so he will never push you past your comfort zone

He will pay for food, unless you insist on splitting the bill on certain things

pretty standard stuff, nothing too cheesy in the romance category

more often than not, eating time is when he will be the most talkative.

He likes taking his time and just enjoy the moment

People will probably avoid him

he is not the easiest to approach, so you won’t have to worry about interruptions

he may also pull an illusion to make himself appear less appealing to the masses

or in rare cases, make you less appealing, he doesn’t like other guys eyeing you up after all

Hibari: VIP access to EVERYTHING

Thanks to his status with the disciplinary committee

you two will never have to wait in line

The owner most likely knows him personally and makes it easy for him to get anything or anywhere he wants

Roller coasters?

stoic as always

will probably watch your reactions instead and try not to smile

Couple rides?

Not much for PDA, so he won’t be making any first moves

will keep an arm around you if you request it or put it there yourself

He stoic, so good luck trying to figure out what he is thinking.

Free food!

No one will make him pay

and if they try to charge you he will flash his tonfas at them

Again, not one for romantic gestures, but he will be more talkative

if you count nonthreatening phrases and grunts as talking Just kidding, he will actually talk normally.

Crowds will part like the red sea!

People will never cross him, unless they are ballsy enough to try

he will hold your hand to signal you are with him

the most physical contact you will get on dates tbh

he prefers privacy when getting any form of physical

#katekyo hitman reborn #yamamoto takeshi #adult lambo #mukuro rokudo #Hibari Kyoya #headcannons #amusement park

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Moments (Sashea) - H

AN: Hi there! I know I’m getting repetitive but I really am grateful for every single note I get on this story, so thank you so, so much! Last chapter was a bit heavier, but we are definitely back on fluff with this one, which brings me to a DISCLAIMER: I’m tagging this as smut even though it’s more centered on feelings and sensations than actual physical action. Still, if it makes you in any way uncomfortable, I suggest stopping about half way through. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: a collection of moments and memories, a journey through Shea and Sasha’s emotions as their relationship develops.

Chapter 5

Moving in together felt right.

There was an aura of pure joy surrounding the two queens, neither of them able to stop smiling and giggling as they spent the day moving things from one apartment to the other.

That morning, they had both woken up extra early, but full of energy, ready to finally give their love a new, official home.

When she arrived to pick Shea up, Sasha was beaming from ear to ear, Shea’s heart fluttering just at the thought of having the possibility to wake up to that view every single morning. They were going to have a little safe space for themselves only, a place to lay all of their memories into, no more distance dictating how much time they could spend together, no more mornings waking up alone, hugging a pillow that didn’t hold the other’s scent.

They would finally create a scent of their own, a scent that would unmistakably mean home.

Of course, Shea had been to Sasha’s place countless times before, but there was a new sparkle in her eyes as she watched the New Yorker carefully place all of her things in the right spots, little Vanya following close behind, sniffing around every new item brought into the house.

They rearranged spaces in every drawer and closet, Shea being well aware that things would eventually get confused, not long until they would start going out in each other’s favorite clothes, but she didn’t mind, she wanted it, she wanted all of it.

She wanted Sasha to tell her off for squeezing their toothpaste from the middle of the tube, she wanted to sigh while putting away her art supplies that would inevitably be left scattered all over the table.

She wanted to let her take the last piece of cake, and she wanted her to draw pictures and comics of them to hang on every wall.

It was the little things that Shea couldn’t wait to discover about Sasha, and living together brought them all up one by one.

Like how close Sasha and Vanya really were. There was nothing that made Shea smile more than coming home to the two of them waiting for her, fast asleep huddled together on the sofa. There was nothing more endearing than seeing Sasha’s eyes light up every time Vanya would jump on the bed and playfully lick her face to wake her up.

The small dog had been a little wary of Shea for a while, not being used to having her around all the time. He would always jump on Sasha’s side of the bed, nudge Sasha’s leg during dinner, sit on Sasha’s lap during movie nights, and Shea had always been “cool” about it.

Or tried to, anyway.

“Your pest hates me.” She complained to her one night.

“He doesn’t hate you, he just loves me more.” Sasha teased, a twinge of smugness in her voice. “Why, is someone jealous?”

“I ain’t jealous of no devil dog.” She countered.

Sasha chuckled “He’ll come to it, give him time.”

“Whatever.”

Shea knew it was silly, but she just wanted the puppy to like her, which was why, when out of nowhere one afternoon Vanya jumped on their bed and curled up with his head resting right under Shea’s chin, she couldn’t contain her happiness.

She tried to play casual but she was sure the baffled look she must have had on her face gave her away, and if Sasha’s fond and beaming smile was anything to go by, she was just as happy.

Something else Shea hadn’t had to chance to see before was how much Sasha liked cooking.

“I’ve learned to value food and nutrition, and I want to make it a pleasurable part of my day, without being afraid of it anymore.” She had admitted during one of their first dinners at home together, and Shea couldn’t be more proud of her.

So when that time of the day came, they would both strip down to comfortable clothes, put on some light music and start preparing.

Shea couldn’t help but notice how Sasha liked to accompany herself with a glass of Prosecco wine while she cooked dinner, which soon became a habit for the both of them, when no matter who was cooking, they always made sure the other had a glass, too.

Shea loved to watch Sasha dance around the kitchen, swaying her hips to whatever song they had put in the background, usually shirtless. She found herself staring at her back muscles more often than not, sometimes lightly tracing her fingers along the curvature of her spine while they sipped the wine together, sometimes taking her phone out to take silly pictures of themselves being domestic.

Sometimes, or many times, she couldn’t keep herself from hugging the bald queen from behind, pulling her close with her hands on her hips, feeling her push her head back, soft content sighs leaving her lips as she kissed along her neck and jaw line.

She also had to learn how that would lead to a burned dinner, but a very, very good time.

The thing Shea had come to love the most though, was how adorably drowsy Sasha got when she started scratching her scalp.

It had been random the first time she had done it. She was cuddling with Sasha on the sofa, mindlessly massaging her skin with her fingertips, just trying to ease the headache she had confessed on having earlier in the day, not at all expecting her to full on moan.

Shea laughed at that, stopping for a second. “What was that?” She asked, still giggling.

Sasha pushed her head against Shea’s hand again, tired voice dropping an octave lower. “That was so relaxing.” She purred out.

So Shea kissed her forehead and continued, keeping a now curious eye on Sasha, noticing her eyelids drooping, her breaths slowly evening out, a drunk-like smile decorating her lips.

In that moment she looked like the most delicate snowflake, but it made a much more powerful statement in Shea’s mind.

She valued the fact that Sasha was now able to show even her most vulnerable and soft sides, the ones that she sometimes feared to show, more that she valued anything in the world.

She valued being one of the very few people who could see her like this, her small figure curled up and snuggled against her chest being such a contrast to the strong and independent individual she stood up to be every day.

She looked so relaxed, comfortable, cozy.

It was so damn cute Shea felt her heart break at the thought of having to awaken her to go upstairs.

So she didn’t.

She just picked Sasha up, feeling her nuzzle her face in the crook of her neck, and carried her in their bedroom.

They held each other extra tight that night.

Shea loved intimate moments like that, when she could pamper Sasha with affection, cuddles and kisses, letting her be the little spoon, letting her know she was taken care of. And it was clear how much Sasha loved it too, always reserving Shea tighter hugs than the ones she gave anyone else, always making sure to give her a kiss as the last thing she did before going to bed, and another as the first thing she did upon waking up in the morning, her very special way of saying thank you for being here.

So if it became their nightly ritual then, if Sasha would make grabby hands at Shea, pink lips forming the most adorable pout, softly asking “Carry me?” even if she wasn’t tired nor sleepy, ad if she would wait till late at night for Shea to come back from the club, just to make sure to always give her a goodnight/thank you kiss before falling asleep in her arms, nobody complained.

Shea didn’t mind being on the giving end of that kind of affection, because Sasha was always there to let the younger queen lean on her in many other ways, so taking care of Sasha, giving back to her in those intimate moments, was something that Shea gave immense importance to. She felt pride in seeing her defenses crashing down and her confidence build up, not only mentally, but physically as well.

It was by exploring every side of Sasha that Shea was able to fall more and more in love; having access to every side of this person she had once considered so unreachable made her feel more and more loved.

Moving in together had finally made all of it a hundred percent possible, allowing their relationship to really explode, making them reach a level of intimacy Shea didn’t know they could reach, and again, it came with everything new she was discovering about Sasha.

Naturally, after months of being together, it wasn’t thanks to a shared apartment that they had their first time having sex, nor their first time making love, but Shea could feel how much Sasha was truly letting go now.

She could see it in the way she had started taking her clothes off much more slowly, teasing, tempting, allowing herself to indulge into playing with sensuality, letting Shea’s eyes linger on her body as much as she wanted.

Sasha had gradually stopped covering her torso with her arms, letting Shea pin them above her head, baring her whole body for Shea to touch and cover with kisses and marks. She wouldn’t shy away from her compliments anymore, face breaking into a breathtaking smile when Shea would tell her how beautiful she was, breathing out sincere thank yous and “You’re beautiful too” in between gasps.

And it was true. There really was nothing more beautiful to Shea than seeing Sasha so vulnerable and exposed beneath her, yet so trusting and free. It made Shea’s head spin to see her arch her back in ecstasy, with her legs shaking around Shea’s torso, shameless and stunning.

She could hear her letting herself go in her pretty high pitched moans, too, in the way they would get incoherent and fast, or soft and drawn out, matching Shea’s pace.

At the beginning of their relationship she would always cover her mouth or bite in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds, but there was no holding back now, loud moans and pleas continuously escaping her mouth, not afraid to beg for more, beg for faster, and Shea was always more than eager to comply. She loved how submissive Sasha could be, putting all of her needs in Shea’s hands, trusting her to satisfy them, and she wanted to make sure to always give Sasha as much as she could, to make her scream, to make her tremble, because there was nothing more inebriating that seeing her completely surrender herself to pleasure, and Shea loved to get drunk on it.

She loved how Sasha would still trust her to be in control even when it was her who spun them around, getting on top and taking the lead, dictating the pace, moving her hips how she wanted to, but still letting Shea pull her close to leave marks on her neck and clavicles, or letting Shea support her and hold her up as she reached her high and shook too much to steady herself.

Shea could feel Sasha completely baring herself in every single movement and sigh, in every slow and intense love making session, and in every quick and passion driven outburst.

But most importantly, she could see it while staring deep into her eyes, as they laid naked together, both breathless and panting, still coming down from the high, as Sasha would tell how much she loved her, how glad she was that it was her.

It was in those moments that she could feel how much their souls were connecting, creating a magical bond, something so powerful that it sent shots of energy all over their bodies every single time they connected.

It was in those moments that she could see how much of herself Sasha was putting out there, how many insecurities she was pushing away to so openly express her feelings to Shea.

And it was in those moments, as she held her close in the place that was now their home, with their scent and their memories, while telling Sasha how much she loved her too, that Shea crossed her heart and hoped to die, she was never going to make her regret it.

AN: Thank you again for reading this, I hope you liked it. We’re almost at the end of this small journey, next chapter is going to be the last, so let me know what you thought of this penultimum chapter. Also, sorry for the millionth time for any mistake I might have missed. Writing in English turned out to be trickier than I thought. That’s all for now, I’m sending you big hugs, and untill next time, don’t forget to love yourself. Ciao!

-H

#sashea #moments #h #smut #sasha velour #shea coulee #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

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intimatevoid · 6 years

Text

casually steals yet another one from @notfinlandjosswhedon

Ever kissed anyone with a nipple piercing? Huh, I don’t actually know. I’ve done a lot of stuff with people who have those piercings, but kissed? I don’t think so.

What about a lip piercing? Yes, Ash has two.

Nose piercing? Hm. I don’t think so.

Did you sleep alone last night? Nope.

How are you sitting? Slouched in my chair.

Where is your family? In the next room, in Manitoba, in North Carolina, and in Sydney.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? I mean... I don’t really have set sleeping or waking hours. So probably, by “normal” definitions.

What were you doing at 12 AM last night? Crying I think.

Waiting for something? June next year, when I go visit @robotslenderman in Sydney.

How many people did you kiss last summer? Two are certain. Three or four are possibilities. Time kinda all runs together for me.

Was yesterday terrible? Yesterday was not a good day.

Did you reject or accept your last friend request? Accept.

Do you like pretzels? I’ve never actually had pretzels before.

Do you wait until you’ve completely finished a certain makeup product before you buy a new one? Yeah, I can’t afford to buy makeup all the time.

Would you say that people consider you a major flirt? Yes, I flirt with many people.

Do any of your friends have children? Yeah, a few of them do.

If you are in a relationship, how long have you been together? Two years as of early September.

Did you wake up before 8 AM this morning? I mean... I was awake AT 8am, but I don’t think that’s what this question means...

Do you wear eyeliner? Yes, I love it.

Whose wall have you wrote on today? Nobody‘s.

Would you rather cry in public or make someone else cry in public? The former. Other people might not be able to handle crying in public, but I can.

Would you rather sleep for 3 days or stay awake for 3 days?   Stay awake. I just can’t sleep for that long, even when I’m at my most depressed.

Would you rather be just rich or rich and famous? Just rich.

Who will you be sleeping with tonight? Ash, probably.

Last person to make you laugh? @aelwen, talking about her Superworld characters.

Do you look at older pictures and laugh? Not really.

When will your next kiss be? Probably within a couple of hours.

Have you ever truly thought you knew who you were going to marry? Pfft, marriage is not something I want.

Do you have anything that belongs to a partner or an ex partner? Not “belongs”, no. From them, yes.

What would you say if someone told you they were in love with your sister? I mean, I don’t give a fuck what any of my sisters do, so.

Has anyone called you babe or baby in the last two days? Yeah, I have some friends with whom that term is a pet name. It’s funny; when I was younger I used to hate it. Now, I think it’s really nice within the context of these specific friendships.

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed? Yeah, every day.

Who was the last person of the opposite sex to be in your bedroom?   The last person of a different sex in my bedroom was Ash. The last man, though? Wow, that would have been a long time ago. Probably Seb, last time he visited.

Did you see your best friend today? No. We live very far away from each other.

Are your ears pierced more than once, if at all? Yes, I have four piercings in each ear, and I want more.

If you wear skirts, are you more likely to wear leggings, or go bare? Depends on the day.

Are you addicted to texting? I dislike texting because it’s clumsy and slow, but I’m always messaging people.

How many times do you knock on the door? Usually I text them to say I’m outside. But if I do knock, it’s either three or five raps.

If you could move somewhere else, would you? Montreal, with @aelwen.

Did you kiss or hug anyone recently? Yes.

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night? My phone barely ever rings, full stop.

Is there anybody you’re really disappointed in right now? I mean, there are many people who disappoint me, but very few who I am actually legit bothered by.

Is there someone you will never forget? Many people.

Can you live a day without TV? Yeah, TV (or in my case, TV shows, since I don’t watch aired television) is not really my favourite thing.

Do you swallow gum when you’re done with it? If I can’t be fucked or can’t spit it out into rubbish.

Any plans for this weekend? I miiiiiight be going out somewhere on Friday night. But I don’t think so.

Have you seen anyone lately that you don’t get along with? Not that I can recall.

Who was the last person you rode in a car with that’s not family? @aturinfortheworse, when I visited them last.

Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Not a chance.

Is there anything stressing you out currently? *laughs maniacally*

What kind of mood are you in today? My mood is fine. My depression is awful though.

How late did you stay up last night and why? Again, sleep hours don’t really bother me. It’s after 6am and I haven’t slept, but I also had two short naps during the day.

Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? I usually sleep in the same bed as them.

Are you mad at anyone? Nope.

Did the last guy/girl you kissed have any piercings? The last person I kissed does indeed have piercings. The last girl or guy, on the other hand? Did not.

What is the name of the last band you discovered? I legit have no idea.

Would you rather go to a Katy Perry or Taylor Swift concert? Neither, thank you.

What pattern do the sheets on your bed have? The sheets are plain purple.

Are your days full and fast-paced? Not in the slightest.

Do you call any of your friends by their last name? Nah, except for one person who uses it as their derby name.

Have you ever gotten lost in a department store? Once at Indooropilly. But only once.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? A year or so? Ash bought it for me. It’s my red Undertale shirt.

Are you a slut? Sexually, no. But I am very much a slut for emotional connection and sensuality, and I am absolutely a compersion slut.

What happened last time you got drunk? Like properly, fully drunk? @d-eerteeth and I played Just Dance and watched Marble Hornets.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? It must be like a year ago now. My hair does NOT long being straightened, so I stopped.

What do you want right this second? some money tbh

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? Sleeping, I think.

What cell phone company do you use? Optus.

Do you wear a bath robe? Nope.

Do you know anyone autistic? Besides myself? Yeah, a few.

How about someone bipolar? Mhm.

What do you want your job to be when you’re older? A body piercer/modder, with an emphasis on clients with special needs who can’t access normal commercial clinics.

What are you listening to? The sound of my computer humming.

Does the last person you texted smoke pot? She sure does.

What did you wear to bed last night? These same clothes.

Who’s in the room with you? It’s just me here.

Have you ever liked someone older than you? Yeah, most people I like are older than me.

Do you like men with beards and goatees? I really do not. Sometimes stubble looks good. But facial hair is seriously not my preference.

Where do you live? QLD, Australia.

Do you always lock your door? Yeaup.

Do you smoke cigarettes? Not for a long time.

Is your birthday in a winter month? Not in Australia, no.

Do you have siblings over the age of 21? Sure do.

What is the last letter of your middle name? A.

Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Nope. My refusal to do so kinda led to some breakdowns lmao

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Yes.

When was the last time you were told you were cute? Today, by Ash.

Do you like Chinese food? I’ve never tried actual real food from China, but I do like the food from the Chinese place down the road.

Have you ever trusted a guy when you shouldn’t have? Heh, yeah.

Do you have a brother? What’s his name? I have six. In order of age: Andy, David, Moses, Benny, Noah, Sean.

What time is it? 6:18am.

Is your phone close to you? It’s on my desk, a little above my keyboard.

What woke you up this morning? Heartburn.

When did you last use a straw? A couple of days ago.

Have you ever driven without a license? Nope. Was terrified of being arrested.

What color shirt are you wearing? A red print shirt.

Do you have a ceiling fan located in your bedroom? No.

What are you most looking forward to tomorrow? Potentially having enough energy to check out a queer meetup. Honestly it’s the thing I’m most looking forward to about the next week.

Have you cuddled with someone today? Yes.

Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? No.

Do you use the toilet paper with the colorful designs on it? Nope. I just buy the cheapest shit that doesn’t feel awful.

What was the first thing you ate today? Muesli.

Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? Sleeping, probably.

Have you set an alarm today? Nope.

Do you keep up-to-date with current news and events? I try very hard not to.

When was the last time you visited relatives? So long ago that I don’t remember.

Is chapstick a necessity for you? Yeah, especially in winter.

Name the last 6 people you texted/messaged:

Chloe (@aelwen)

Stevie

Sage (@d-eerteeth)

Dusty (@robotslenderman)

Caitlin (@cookiekitcat)

Maddie @notfinlandjosswhedon)

How did you meet #3? Through a friend of a friend, with the help of awful memes.

What’s #6’s middle name? Don’t have a clue tbh.

Who have you known the longest out of your 6? Chloe and Dusty, I’m not sure exactly but I’ve known both of them since 2009.

Who have you known the least out of your 6? Maddie.

How do you know #5? We played some really good Overwatch together and became friends through that.

Where does #1 live? Manitoba. Too far away. :(

Is #1 your best friend? One of them, yes. <3

Who on your 6 doesn’t have a job? most of them actually

Does #5 have their drivers license? I have no idea tbh!

Would you ever live with #2? Tbh? I don’t think so. Near, but not with.

Why did you text #4? She sent me a lovely gift so I was thanking her.

Do you miss #3? Yeah. We haven’t seen each other in a long time.

Is #6 a stoner or alchie? the definition of this is a matter of some question to us lmao

Have you ever danced with #2? Yes, actually!

Have you ever done anything sexual with any of them? No, not really.

What would your life be like without #1? I don’t want to think about that life would be like without her.

Is #2 your best friend? Nope.

What do you love about #3? Sage is intelligent as hell, so resilient it would scare me if they weren’t on my side, competitively generous, and we have such wonderful banter.

What do you dislike about #3? everything go jump off grand central u bitch (um. for anyone else reading this. that was a joke.)

What is #5’s weakness? Cute things!

What kind of car does #4 drive? I don’t think she drives.

What would you do if #3 & #6 were dating? I would be surprised as hell but I mean each to their own y’know.

Does #2 have a boyfriend/girlfriend? She says that the woman she’s with (i don’t remember her name) isn’t her “girlfriend” but honestly she so is

Have you ever seen #1 cry? I have.

Have you ever kept a secret from #5? Not that I’m aware of.

What is something special about #4? I love her with all my heart.

Does #2 have any special talents? She’s good at talking my ear off!

In one word, describe #6. Interesting.

Has anyone in your top 6 hurt you? Who? Yeah, I’ve been... let down.

Have you ever fought with #6? Nope.

Is #1 a musician? She plays piano!

How old is #4? 25~

Would you ever kiss #5 (if you haven’t already)? Obviously assuming everyone affected by it was consenting? Yeah, sure!

#tumblr games #okay i'm going to sleep now #goodnight world

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midnightlie · 7 years

Text

oh look another oliness fic actually, this is more of a scene that would fit probably pretty nicely somewhere much later down the line. it’s cute fjflksfd and it doesn’t really have too much direction but its CUTE

this is completely sfw btw!!!! also a couple notes:

-PDA makes nessa so embarrassed lol -Oliver speaks Aelish, a language from the country of Aelia, which is where this takes place

i think that’s about it lol i hope u enjoy it!

*****

She wonders how Oliver would kiss her if there was no reason to hold back.

Nessa draws forth the memory of how he looked today. He’d been wearing a loose, white shirt with short sleeves and a slight v-neck to give him better mobility as he swung his sword around to parry off Adam’s blows. He’d carried a smug air of confidence and it was incredible, she thought, how he was able to hold his own so well against someone she knew was military trained. His slick brown skin had been warm with the flush of exercise. Even now, she can still hear the chorus of his laughter as he stumbled and narrowly missed being cuffed by Adam’s sword.

She shivers. He hadn’t known she’d been watching - Nessa hadn’t even meant to stop and stare. She was merely passing the training yard on her way to the stables when she saw him. He was mesmerizing and he’d made her weak. All she could do was remember how good it feels to kiss him, how he graciously responds to her touch, the way he chases after her even as she pulls away to breathe.

He kisses her like he is starving and it is a slow, greedy thing. Her heart shudders as the memories spark a wave of pleasure. It ripples over her skin and down to the very pit of her stomach where it settles, warm and low. She groans to herself and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes and rubs, as if to wipe away the thought of Oliver’s whispered encouragements, his strong hands, his attentive mouth…

She sighs as the ghost of his hand slides over her hip and back up, as the memory of his thumb strokes her collarbone, and tilts her head back so that he can kiss her chin, her jaw. Nessa touches the lacing of her bodice at her stomach, follows the line of it with her fingertips up and down her torso.

For so long, all her energy has been spent on thinking about her next move and how to deal with the loss she’s faced. It feels strange to indulge in her own feelings for once, and now that she has, she doesn’t want to hold them back. Nessa stares at him from between a couple of books on the bookshelf. The arid heat drifts in from the open windows, ruffling her short hair, and the collar of his shirt.

He looks so damn good and all he’s doing is reading a book, for heaven’s sake. She’d have made herself known already if she wasn’t so choked up with such a bottomless hunger. She doesn’t want to come on too strong, lest he pull away and tell her to slow down.

Oliver’s posture is so relaxed, his expression soft and inviting. She takes a deep breath and nods to herself before slipping around the edge of the bookshelf and revealing her presence. He hasn’t even gotten a chance to glance up before she’s sitting down on the cushion beside him. The sun streaming in through the open window kisses her neck with heat and she leans into his shoulder.

“Hey, Freckles,” he says fondly, not the least bit startled as she curls her feet up beside her. He only spares her a fleeting glance though, kissing the top of her forehead and wrapping an arm around her shoulders before looking back down at his book.

Not exactly the reaction she was looking for, but not a bad start. She shifts so that she can press up far enough to kiss his cheek, lingering, tracing the opposite side of his jaw with her fingertip. A smile stretches her lips when she feels the exact moment she’s caught his attention, moving them slowly along his jaw toward his chin.

“Nessa?” he murmurs, curling his arm tighter around her.

Her eyes drift close as she wanders down the length of his neck, pushing aside the collar of his shirt. “Keep reading if you like,” she whispers, nosing his throat slightly. The smell of his skin is all heat and salt and sun and it fills her with heady pleasure. Her hand smooths down the front of his shirt and she tentatively draws her tongue across his collarbone.

He makes a soft noise of surprise at her forwardness and she feels him shift under her, putting his book aside. She wants to make him as crazy as he makes her, so her hand slides back up to cup the side of his neck as she works her mouth back to his jaw. The fire under her skin flares up when he turns his shoulders towards her and touches her wrist softly.

“Nessa?” he tries again, but his breath catches just slightly at the end of her name.

“Shhhh,” she replies. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course I don’t mind,” he says, laughter bubbling up in his voice. “Come here.” He shifts them, pulling her onto his lap for better access. She feels like purring when his hand strokes down her side, leaning into his touch like a love-starved cat. Even the most casual of touches feel sensual coming from him.

“Any particular reason you find me particularly irresistible today?” he wonders softly as she nuzzles his neck, kissing him just under his ear.

“Your effervescent charm, of course,” she teases with a hum, almost gasping when his hand skates very low on her lower back.

“But I’m always charming.” He grins and pulls her tight against his chest before swooping down to kiss her. Finally, finally, she’s gotten what she wanted. While he’s being sweet, she still feels distance. She knows that he holds back out of consideration for her - she’s confused, and things have been so hard lately. But Nessa has decided at last that she cannot stand another moment without knowing what it truly means to be kissed by Oliver.

She makes a noncommittal sigh of pleasure and wraps her other arm around his neck, drawing herself as close as she can. He smiles against her mouth and she catches him off guard when she hikes up her skirts and shifts so that she can spread her legs and straddle him. In her enthusiasm, the top of her sleeve slips off her shoulder.

She licks the swell of his bottom lip, eagerly setting the pace as he opens his mouth to her. It’s only a moment later that he groans into her, as if he’s never been more satisfied in his entire life. The sound travels down to the pit of her belly and out to the tips of her toes, igniting an itch under her skin only he can scratch.

He kisses down the side of her face to her exposed shoulder as she catches her breath. “You smell so good, Princess,” he murmurs, voice low and warm like thunder.

She runs a hand through his cropped hair, his hands sliding lower than the divot at the end of her spine. Under his touch, she trembles and buries her face against the crook in his neck. “So do you,” she replies shakily.

He hums. “I’m halfway convinced you’re here because you’re looking for something in particular,” he tells her, kissing her shoulder. “What do you want?”

It’s almost embarrassing, she thinks, but Oliver has a record for giving her exactly what she asks for. She gets a smile in her voice even as her cheeks become flushed. “I...I just want you to kiss me,” she nearly whispers, her voice breaking.

His hand strokes down the length of her spine, his tone softening. “I am kissing you, Princess.”

“More,” she says, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, blushing. “Not like...I just mean I don’t want you to hold back anymore.”

He touches her face gently, tucking a tuft of her hair behind her ear. The stars in his eyes when he looks at her makes her feel wholly ethereal. “We have plenty of time to get there,” he tells her. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

She frowns and presses her forehead to the ridge of his eyebrow as she looks down, playing with the collar of his shit. “But I love you,” she says in a small voice.

He sighs blissfully and squeezes her tighter. “I love you, too.”

Her voice shakes a bit. “I don’t want to wait,” she tells him softly, feeling far too vulnerable. How had her ambush on him turned into exactly the kind of rebuttal she didn’t want? Still, she has to admit that this kind of emotional intimacy is fulfilling, too. She still clings to him and he doesn’t seem to be letting her go anytime soon either.

“I do,” he murmurs. “Is that okay?”

When he puts it that way, the idea of begging him to do something he doesn’t want makes her feel gross. “Of course,” she says.

“Someday, when things are better, I’ll take you to bed and kiss you as much as you’d like,” he tells her. “Wherever you’d like. I promise.”

She threads her fingers gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. His words, while as gentle and innocent as they can possibly be, send a shiver down her spine. She knows he feels it because his lips curl into a smile.

“I love you,” she says again, because what else can she say? He shifts as though to lean back in for another kiss when the library door opens and someone comes walking in. They immediately spot Nessa curled up on Oliver’s lap and apologize. At least, she thinks they’re apologizing. They haven’t been in Aelia long, so she hasn’t had any time to learn any of the language yet, but her voice seem to be rueful, even with a humorous lilt to it.

Nessa hides her face in his neck out of embarrassment, but doesn’t crawl off him. His arm tightens around her waist and he replies to what might be a teasing jab with good-natured irritation. Even though she’s embarrassed to have been caught in such an inappropriate, intimate scene, her heart soars. She can stay with him. She can be with him. For the first time, the reality of that statement has started to sink in.

After another moment of exchanged words, the woman laughs and leaves the library, shutting the doors behind her.

“That was Arissa,” Oliver says after a moment. “She says dinner will be ready shortly.” After a pause, he adds. “I’ve never seen you so shy.”

“That woman saw us like this,” Nessa says, as though its the most scandalous thing she can imagine. She pulls back again so that she can see his face and he’s smiling at her.

“Aelia’s traditionally a bit more lenient about public affection than Wisteria,” he says. “No one is going to scold you for touching a boy.”

She laughs and leans in to kiss his cheek. “Lucky boy.”

His eyes glitter. “Indeed. What do you say we get washed up for dinner?”

Nessa slides off his lap a bit reluctantly so that he can stand, but takes his hand immediately when he offers it. “Will you teach me some Aelish after we eat?” she asks. If they’re going to be hiding in this country, she ought to at least attempt to learn a few words in their language.

He smiles with all the warmth of a sun. “Sure.”

#nessa and oliver #taylor writes things #i love them i cant wait to write things like this for them all the time weeps

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hunnybadgerv · 7 years

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Guidelines for Evil Empresses

(From The Evil Empress Guide)

Beauty is fleeting, power is vulnerable. I will not risk the latter for the former.

I will use my magic mirror for spying on my enemies rather than for vain attempts at preserving my position as fairest in the land.

I will not fret over the comparative beauty of the Hero's True Love or any Beautiful Yet Innocent kinfolk. They may be attractive enough for peasant wenches/quivering maidens; but I am The Evil Empress, and there is no comparison.

I will not bed the Hunky Hero before my plan is executed, unless having him believe I am carrying his child gives me a decisive advantage.

While seduction has its place in my vast arsenal, I realize that "evil" and "skanky" are not mutually inclusive. Royal Dressmakers unable to realize this fact will be flayed alive in the presence of their replacements.

I will wear flats, or better yet, running shoes when executing crucial plans.

My slinky sorceress' robe will have a chain mail foundation garment, at minimum.

I will not be put off by the Hero's rebuffs of my sensual advances. If he doesn't succumb to me, I will not fly into a jealous rage. Instead, I'll shrug my shoulders, send him on his way, and have him picked off as he exits the fortress.

Where winks, suggestive remarks, and body language won't get me what I want, a well aimed semi-automatic will.

Sex is certainly a weapon at my disposal, but then so is a blaster. If it is not clear which weapon I should be using, I will opt for the blaster.

I, and my elite guards, will never assume that we have managed to confiscate all weapons or escape aids from the captured Hero. "Interrogations" in my private chambers will only be conducted if the Hero is completely nude. This will, in fact, satisfy a number of objectives at once.

I will promote chivalry and urge my minions to exhibit proper behavior at all times when it is not counterproductive to my schemes. This increases the chance of running up against only chivalric Heroes, as well as increasing the surprise factor when I ditch the pretenses and get really vicious.

I will not seize power for my beloved son or husband or other close individual, especially since they may not, in the end, be grateful that I was so ruthless and treacherous on their behalf. I will seize power for myself and grant my loved ones small fiefdoms they can call their own, if they want.

If the Hero is an old lover of mine (and they almost invariably are), I will remember just why he is a former lover, and keep it in mind as I destroy him.

If I know the Hero is an old lover of mine and he is not aware of this fact, I will keep it to myself. I will be more able to exploit his weaknesses and my other intimate knowledge about him if I do not allow my identity to be revealed.

If the Hero says he is willing to betray his cause and accept my offer of ruling the world at my side, he will only be believed once that betrayal results in his cause's total destruction, at which point his demonstration of total lack of principle should lead to his immediate execution.

I will not punish or kill lovers who fail to satisfy me. Such a policy would cause performance anxiety in future lovers, defeating the purpose. I will instead reward exceptional effort, and lavishly reward exceptional proficiency.

My poison-fanged or -clawed beast minions will not be spiders, snakes and ravens, but kittens, goldfish, and canaries.

I will wear breakaway clothing whenever risking capture. It will facilitate escape if I am grabbed, and it will distract the captor (but not me) for those crucial seconds it will take me to either escape or steal his own weapon.

I will wear form-fitting clothes rather than flowing gowns: they're just as, if not more, flattering and are less likely to snag on something or catch fire at the moment of triumph or escape.

If I require my Hag or Crone to poison someone, I will require the poison be quick and deadly rather than a mere sleep aid.

My Amazon Hordes will either be dyed-in-the-wool lesbians or have a nice pool of suitable comely men of their liking at home.

My Amazon Hordes will wear full body armor, rather than three small triangles of chain mail, which are reserved for dress occasions.

The infantry of my Amazon Hordes will use advanced tactics such as the Phalanx and will employ sophisticated weapons such as the 10' pike when closing with the enemy, but only after the longbow-women have emptied their quivers from 200 yards away.

I will re-evaluate any job that requires manipulating a man in my thrall. Chances are one of my Amazons could do the job with less risk.

Male Sidekicks are almost always corruptible with a wink and a nod or charmable by a simple spell or potion, at least until the crucial encounter with the Hero, at which time they should be safely entombed somewhere far from the action.

The effort of turning female or gay sidekicks generally makes killing them the least bothersome tactic.

If I married into the title of Evil Empress, I will let my Overlord take the flak for the Empire's evil actions and ingratiate myself to the people with my kindness.

If I married into the title of Evil Empress under duress then my very first order of business must be the disposal of the Evil Overlord, since he must already know he can't possibly trust me as far as he can throw me.

If I married into the title of Evil Empress under duress then using the Hero to free me of the Overlord does not obligate me to abdicate my throne.

If I am competing with other Overlords, Empresses and High Priests for ultimate domination, I will assume they have access to this and other lists and the brains to listen to them.

I will not try to turn a son (even mine) against his father, no matter how estranged to two are. Blood relatives can be annoyingly sentimental.

I will neither repress my Beautiful but Wicked Daughter nor smother my Handsome but Evil Son. It's hard enough raising a ruling family these days without extra dysfunctional baggage. No one wants disgruntled offspring suddenly "seeing the light" and turning Good simply because mother dearest gave them an unhappy childhood.

Unless immortality comes with Absolute Power, I'd better be grooming my Evil Offspring to take the reigns someday. It's better to carefully feed their growing lust for power by gradually increasing Imperial responsibilities than having them plot my untimely demise.

If I am unfortunate enough to have a Beautiful but Innocent Daughter, as opposed to a Beautiful but Wicked Daughter, I will unconditionally love and nurture her nonetheless, and be as supportive as possible of any budding romantic relationship with potential young Heroes. This will a) delay Heroic action while I study his strengths and weaknesses, b) cause emotional conflicts within the Hero that will encourage fatal hesitations or mistakes, c) provide another chance for my daughter to see things my way before I'm forced to eliminate her.

I will not mistreat, abuse, or plot elaborately to kill my Beautiful Yet Innocent Stepdaughter (she's destined for something, count on it). Instead I will treat her with all the kindness and love possible while slowly reshaping her in my image.

However insatiable my appetites are, it is virtually guaranteed that at least one of my millions of subjects is both far more gifted at satisfying them and far more loyal to me than the Hero who seeks my destruction, no matter his reputation with the ladies.

My personal servants will be professional bodyguards and assassins, but will dress and behave as eunuchs and maidservants. Even if I dismiss my regular guards for a "private audience" with the Hero, these personal servants (just so much furniture after all, right?) will remain in my chambers.

Any one bodyguard who cannot maintain concentration and discipline in my boudoir will be eliminated immediately by the others.

I will learn the various arts of self defense and not rely solely on muscular minions to protect me.

The appearance of weakness can be as useful as the appearance of strength. I will exploit the double standard for all its worth.

If I must enlist the powers of the nether-worlds I will first bone up on contract law. My own soul, mind, and/or (especially) body will never be negotiable.

If I get the bright idea to seduce a powerful yet malevolent being into becoming an ally, the actual seduction can be handled by my body double. Exotic anatomies are not to become a factor.

My Radiant Amulet of Power will not be worn around my neck on a thin gold chain, or on a ring that is two sizes too big for my finger. If a line of sight is required, then a good strong locking watchband will do. If the amulet need not be exposed, being Empress I have a variety of far more secure hiding places at my immediate disposal - and to hell with the glow.

Men already enthralled by my Feminine Wiles will just as easily take my orders when radioed from my fortress as in person on the front lines.

I will keep my hair short and my fingernails trimmed. Short hair provides no convienent handle for the Hero, Sidekick or Backstabbing Evil Ally. Trimmed fingernails enable me to press The Button myself, rather than rely on minions with blunt nails or try to find a stick.

I will locate any phobias or nervous habits I may posses and take therapy until I can overcome them; that way, I can't be chased from the scene of my Ultimate Triumph because someone dropped a snake from the air vent.

If the seeds of discontent look ready to bloom into open rebellion, I will hire a top PR firm to create the public image that I am 1) only a figurehead and that all power really resides in the Prime Minister; 2) misunderstood; or 3) only a woman who's getting bad advice from her Council. Choices 1) and 3) give me the option to keep my head if my side is defeated by the Hero -- and leave the possibility of a sequel.

The internet is my friend. I can inspire loyalty with www.EvilEmpress'.budoir.live.com (be it with a body double or not as the mood strikes me) and obedience with www.EvilEmpres'.pit-of-dispair.live.com.

If there is any conceivable thing the sight of which can melt me into mawkish sentimentality, I will wear sunglasses designed to make it look like a Chia Pet.

If the Hero has an evil twin, the twin will probably make a far more suitable Love-Happy Stooge. Keeping this in mind, I will beware advisers who might have a Non-Evil twin.

Magic Girls, no matter how frilly their dresses, high their screams, or incompetent their sidekicks, will be treated as the credible and dire threats they are, and I will direct as many, if not more resources to their destruction as I would for a more classical Hero.

If I take an Orphan as my own to corrupt I will be sure that no genetic relative exists to turn him or her against me.

Investigate the lineage of all prospective allies. Allies lacking any trace of grandparents, or whose genetic roots intersect with yours, or whose genetic roots intersect any known or suspected dieties should be kept at arm's length (but within blaster range).

Allies need never see my command center or budoir. Almost any business can be taken care of in a rented conference room.

I will not expose myself needlessly to potential personal security risks, such as by shopping, or allowing my Beautiful but Innocent Daughter to shop at the local Star Galleria Mall.¬Ý As Empress of all I Survey, the merchants will come to me with their wares - after being throughly vetted by my Chief of Palace Security (to prevent assassination attempts), and then by my household steward (to avoid fashion disasters and poor quality goods) before being brought to my attention for purchase.

I will not transform the rival/good sorceress and exile her to the back of beyond. If she can't keep me from transforming her, she can't keep me from killing her.

No lingering curses or sleeping-forever potions for my rivals; Instant Death is the least I can do.

If I can turn the Good Prince into a frog, I must also be able to turn him into a centipede. The latter form is far better as any princess in her right mind is unlikely to kiss a centipede. Also, centipedes are more easily squashed under my bootheel.

#Evil Empress Guide #Villains #Evil Characters #Characterization #Writer's Bulletin Board #Long Post

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leonorakidd93 · 4 years

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How Can Garlic Cure Premature Ejaculation Cheap And Easy Useful Tips

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