#these are the first pictures I’ve taken of myself in a really long time that I’ve actually liked

[holdinbacksecrets]

how do you think svt would subtly let you know they have feelings for you? 🥺🫣 or how they’d confess?

first of all, my sincere apologies for taking a year to answer this… but a couple nights ago i woke up at 2am, scrolled through my requests, and yours ended up inspiring these voicemails. thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy 🖤

thank you @un-love for helping me assign these🫶🫶🫶🫶

voicemails seventeen leave you, hinting feelings

seungcheol: “hey…a lot was said last night…it’s important that you know how proud of you i am for opening up to me. it’s just…you have to know that… my home is yours for however long you need. there are clean sheets on the guest bed, but i know you prefer my mattress…we can switch- i just want you to be comfortable, not to worry about anything, ok? i hope i see you when i get home tonight. or if you want me to meet you at his—yours, i’d be happy to.”

jeonghan: “hey, are you ok? you looked upset last night, and i tried to show i noticed without… showing i noticed. you left earlier than i expected with lia, so i didn’t get a chance to ask. then hoshi was fucking wasted, so i was trying to get him home in one piece. let me know, please.”

joshua: “morning, let me know what time you’d like to leave tonight. the party starts at 8, but i don’t think it’s really going to start until 8:30. we could get dinner before if you want? and it’s ok if you forget a cardigan. now i keep one in my car in case we end up on a balcony.”

jun: “you’re probably freaking out, but your laptop is here. it’s fully charged. i can bring it to you. i know you have classes friday afternoon… if you use your ipad instead, come over after. i’ll make you dinner.”

soonyoung: “at this point, i need to keep your grocery store list on my notes app or something. it doesn’t matter where i am or what grocery store i find myself inside, i’m immediately wondering what you need. i end up getting things i know you’ll like… tampons too and those pads with the wings. i started keeping them in different bags i use because i never know which one i’ll have when i see you. i know it’s silly because you always have something with you just in case, but… i don’t know. i don’t want to be completely helpless. now i feel bad for my sister. is that weird? i never did this for her. i should have. i hope her boyfriend does.”

wonwoo: “i think you’re asleep, but i wanted to remind you to take another dosage of pain medicine when you wake up. it’s been twelve hours, and i know how forgetful you can get in that post-sleep haze.”

jihoon: “it’s so sunny here. i’m sending some to you for your birthday. missing your birthday… how the hell did that end up happening? i’m definitely not incredibly upset about it either… happy birthday. tell me all about your day when you get this. if i don’t answer, leave a detail in your voicemail” *whisper sings happy birthday*.

seokmin: “hey you. so i’m at the cafe, and i ordered a chai latte for you before realizing i didn’t know how much longer you’ll be. if it’s cold by the time you get here, i’ll order you another or see if they have a microwave. i think some customers are staring me down because i’m a single man occupying a table. please hurry. kindly. i say that so kindly.”

mingyu: “is it absolutely ridiculous to believe you… some part of you manifests in willow trees? i think of you, and i see one. it’s happened too many times to be a coincidence, even in other countries. i’ve taken pictures, so you have to believe me.”

minghao: “—you have to come with me next time.”

seungkwan: “do you want to be my date to my sister’s wedding? it’s not a big deal. i mean, it is, but i know how anxious you can get about things like this, so i want you to know it’s not a big deal… did you believe that for a second?”

hansol: “there’s going to be an indoor pop-up market two blocks from your apartment on saturday. i took a picture of the flyer through the car window, but it came out all blurry, and i’m running late for a schedule. this is a reminder for myself to make sure the details reach you. i also want to go with you if you decide to go… if you can go.”

chan: “can we change our friday night plans to saturday? i’m so sorry. my mom has an appointment, and i offered to drive her before my brain caught up and realized the day and time she’s scheduled. i don’t think i’ll make it back early enough, and i don’t want to leave her either, you know? she’s having a little procedure done. i want to be around just in case… because i’m worried about it. i didn’t think i’d be this worried. call me when you get this.”

bonus: “i’m around the corner from your place, and i have the tokyo hoodie with me. it’s your week, it’s freshly washed, so let me know if you’re home. i’ll drop it off.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen blurbs #seventeen drabbles #seungcheol scenarios #jeonghan scenarios #joshua scenarios #jun scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jihoon scenarios #seokmin scenarios #mingyu scenarios #minghao scenarios #seungkwan scenarios #hansol scenarios #chan scenarios

[uluvjay]

Luke Hughes smut prompt list 8 and 12

8. “I can’t sleep without you here”

12. “You can get louder can’t you”

Luke Hughes x Fem reader!

Warnings?; smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, fingering( F receiving), hand job( M receiving), dirty talk, pet names, cursing.

I hope you enjoyed anon! I apologize for any errors💕

—

Usually this time of year you’d be at the lake house with Luke but you family decided to take a week long vacation in the middle of lake house season. You were extremely grateful to be able to go on a vacation but it was just you and your parents and you were missing your boyfriend.

And from what you could tell he was missing you as well, he texted and called you whenever he could and it was to the point his brothers were texting you to come back so they didn’t have to hear him complain anymore.

So here you were sat on FaceTime with him as your parents were out on a date and had told you not to wait up because they were going to go to get drinks after dinner.

“Luke you need to go to bed, it’s almost 11 there” you told him

“I don’t care I’m frustrated and I can’t sleep without you here” he mumbled

“Why are you frustrated baby? Did something happen” you asked a little concerned, Luke never really got miserable but you could tell by his face and tone of voice that he was.

“No, nobody made me mad and nothing happened..it- it’s sexual frustration” he admitted.

“Ohh” you said with a slight smirk knowing some of that was from the Bikini pictures you had been sending him and the outfit pictures of you in pretty little sundresses which he also loved on you.

“Yeah ‘ohh’, I swear I’ve been hard since the day before you left when Jack caught us” he said annoyed but the memory made you laugh.

You and Luke hadn’t had much time alone and when you thought everyone had already left to go eat you both booked it to his room and were to busy rushing that you didn’t lock the door. However right as Luke was about to insert himself in you Jack busted in asking for something but caught you two in the act instead.

Thankfully he didn’t see any of you because all Luke had taken off was your shorts and panties not wanting to waste the time with your shirt.

“I’m sorry baby, if it makes you feel any better I haven’t been able to have much alone time to take care of myself either” you told him.

“Wait..Didn’t you say your parents are out?” He asked

“Yeah, why?”

“Wanna have phone sex?” He very bluntly asked

“Luke!”

“What? Wouldn’t be the first time”

“True..okay yeah let’s do it” you said laughing as you propped up your phone against your bed pillows and turned so Luke could see between your legs.

“Take your clothes off baby” he told you as you seen him lock his door and put an air pod in.

You did as told before getting back into position and began rubbling your clit.

“Did i say you could start touching yourself?” He asked and you immediately pulled your hand away.

“Sorry” you apologized.

“It’s alright baby I’ll let that one slide, we’re both needy” he told you before setting his phone in a position on his desk so you could see his hard cock perfectly making you moan at the sight.

“Miss my cock baby? Miss feeling it run along your folds, feel it fill you up, miss choking on it?” He was teasing you but you didn’t care because he was right, you hadn’t properly felt Luke’s cock in weeks, your few quickies so rushed and messy.

“Fuck Luke please, can I please touch myself?” You begged

“Yeah, go ahead baby. Rub your clit a little, imagine it’s my fingers” he told you, you could hear him groan at the sight of you playing with yourself.

“Feels so good Lukey” you moaned trying to keep your eyes open so you could watch him stroke his hard length.

“Put one of your fingers inside baby, remember start slow and then insert a second finger” he instructed

“Wish it was your hard cock Lukey, wish you were fucking me” you moaned out at him to help him through this as well.

“Shit Y/n” his breathing sped up a little and you could see his abs clenching, “you wish it was my pussy Luke? Wish you had my warm pussy hugging you, instead of your hand” you threw his questions right back at him.

“Fuck yes I do” he moaned watching you insert another finger.

“Fuck Luke!” You moaned throwing your head back as you pumped your fingers faster.

“I think I’m getting close” you told him

“Yeah? Can you feel your pussy clenching your fingers?” He asked watching you nod your head as moans were the only think coming out of your mouth.

He watched as your thighs began to shake yet your moans were to quite for his liking, “you can get louder can’t you?” He asked

“Ye-..yeah” you moaned

“Then let me hear you” and after that he listened as you let out one of the most beautiful moans he’s ever heard come out to your mouth.

“Luke! Im cumming” you told him as your worked yourself through it.

“Good girl baby” he praised as you came down from your high.

“Mhm, now let’s get you there” you told him as you remembered he still hadn’t came.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, spit in your hand Luke and I want you to think about me and how tight and warm my pussy is, how much you love to fuck it” you egged him on.

“Shit baby” he moaned as he threw his head back.

“Such a pretty cock baby but your balls are just as pretty and I want you to use your other hand to play with them a little” you instructed knowing how much he loved when you did it.

The moan he let out when his hands made contact with them was almost pornographic, you watched in awe as he took care of himself.

“So sexy Lukey, can’t wait to get home and let you fuck my throat” he let out a moan at the thought of having your warm, wet mouth wrapped around him.

“Shit Y/n I’m close” he told you, but you could already tell by the way his breathing was speeding up and his abs clenching.

“Come for me Luke, imagine your cumming deep inside me just how you like to”

You smiled as he came with a loud groan and cum shot all over his hand and pretty abs, enjoying his pathetic whimpers as he worked himself through his high.

“That was hot” you laughed after a minute of silence.

He began to laugh too as he stood up to find something to clean himself off with as you made your way into the bathroom connected to your bedroom.

“Thanks for helping me out Babe” he said

“Of course Luke, plus I needed it too” you shrugged before adding “but I was serious about getting my face fucked when I get back” you notified him.

“Yes ma’am” he laughed

-

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl fanfiction #dylan duke #nhl imagine #umich hockey #new jersey devils #uluvejay request week

[wearyeyebrow]

Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

-

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

-

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

-

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

#lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #sub lucifer #dom mc #my writing #wearyeyebrow #teeny tiny bit of nightbringer angst at the end #dom!reader #sub!lucifer #sub obey me

[markedbyindecision]

Ella in therapy in Lucifer s5e14 “Nothing Lasts Forever”

(image ID under the readmore)

[Image ID: 10 gifs of Ella talking to Linda.

1) Ella, hesitantly: Yesterday on my morning run, I saw this guy about to cross the street. Head in his phone, not paying attention, moments away from walking into traffic.

2) Ella, staring into the air: And…my mind started picturing things. Like…like really vivid things. Which car would hit him first? Which of his bones would shatter?

3) Ella: The position his body would land on the ground. Exactly how long it would take him to bleed out. Detail after detail.

4) Ella: I- I eventually snapped out of it, but it was too late. /// Linda: He got hit?

5) Ella: No, he looked up in time, but that- that’s not the point.

6) Ella, teary-eyed: The point is that helping him wasn’t my first thought. Or my second. Or my third. How messed up is that?

7) Linda: Ella, you’ve been coming to see me ever since you caught Pete, and over all that time, you’ve never taken a single day off. Maybe it’s catching up to you.

8) Ella: No. No, no, no. This job is what centers me, channels these thoughts into some kind of purpose.

9) Ella: The truth is, I’ve been this way my entire life. And I’ve hidden it from everyone. Dan, Chloe. Everyone thinks I’m a good person.

10) Ella, teary-eyed and distressed: I told Amenadiel that I would try to accept myself, but…how? How can I accept myself when thisdarkness is such a part of who I am?

End ID.]

#lucifer s5e14 #*lucifer #* #*gifs #ella lopez #ellalopezedit #luciferedit #dailylucifernetflix #lucifergifs #dailytvwomen #tvfilmdaily #userautie #usertix #usersmia #tuserheidi #tvarchive #tvfilmsource #dcladies #100 #dcmultiverse #intrusive thoughts #i really think they could’ve done more with this #like idk linda looking super shocked at this is kinda :/ like i know it’s not realistic therapy ever but like if she were a therapist she’d #be bound to come across a lot of stuff like this or at least be familiar with it #anyway ella has been going thru it this season i hope she gets lots of happiness in s6

[softspeirs]

Daisies and Love Letters (6): John Egan/OC

A/N: I am so sorry it's taken me so long to figure out the next bit for these two. I've sort of got myself in a pickle because the only way to go chronologically is post-war, and I never intended for this series to go that far. So we'll see how it goes - I may have some ~interludes feat. more of their letters, but I think we're winding down on our time with John and Ellie.

Six. Goodbyes.

"Tell me you didn't ride your bicycle all the way here." Ellie's hands are on her hips as she stands outside the pub, a rag slung over one shoulder.

"Okay, I won't tell you." Bucky replies, grinning at her. He stops, dismounts, and is pressing a kiss to her cheek before she can reprimand him further. "Hi."

"Hello," she whispers against his jaw, "Come inside." She ushers him in and he settles at a barstool with a wince, trying his best to hide it. "How long before you have to be back?"

"Was hoping you'd let me stay if it gets too late." He admits, the most endearing blush she's ever seen staining the tips of his ears. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

Ellie busies herself with cleaning up the last few glasses from empty tables, the pub nearly empty except for a few locals.

Most of the boys have gone home.

It makes Ellie's hands tremble, because she knows, sooner rather than later, John is going to be one of them, and she hasn't figured out how she's going to handle that quite yet.

“I haven’t been able to get away…” she says with a sigh, setting the last of the clean glasses on the shelf behind the bar. “I’ve had accounts to settle now that everyone’s leaving, and…” she trails off, a melancholy mood settling over her.

Bucky clears his throat. An awkward silence fills the room, and he wishes he knew the right words to say to make her understand how he feels. He’s conflicted, to say the least. This isn’t a fling for him, but he feels silly admitting it, because how could he be so head over heels for a girl with whom he’s only shared a handful of days (and two nights — all innocent, but memorable nonetheless) with?

He can’t really explain to anyone that they’ve done this whole thing out of order, and yet she knows him better than just about anyone here besides Buck.

“We don’t have to talk about that now.” He offers a way out of the conversation, and she smiles at him softly, gratefully.

Her father, funnily enough, had been the one to broach the subject after he met Bucky for the first time, a quiet dinner after the pub had closed early to celebrate VE-Day.

Afterwards, cleaning up, he had said quietly. "I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to go, Eleanor."

She had stilled, her hands stuck in the soapy dishwater, her mind spinning. "What do you mean?"

Her father scoffs. "You know what I mean. I saw the way that Major of yours looked at you. He's going to ask you to marry him."

Somehow, it wasn't an outcome Ellie had even remotely considered. It felt too soon. It was too soon. They were clinging to this thing between them so desperately.

Ellie has been putting a small distance between her and John since that night. She can't bring herself to talk to him about it but she also can't really bring herself to stay away... after everything he's been though, Ellie can't stand the thought of hurting him. She doesn't want to.

She just-- she wants, and it's terrifying, no matter which outcome she pictures; the one where he asks her a question and she leaves everything she's ever known behind, or the one where he tells her it's been wonderful, and she's a great girl, but duty calls and he's got to go... they're both too scary to contemplate.

"You're quiet." His voice brings her out of her own head and back to the present. "You've been quiet a lot lately, actually." He ducks his head like he's afraid of saying this to her. Either that, or he's afraid of her response.

The wooden bar between them feels wider than ever.

"Suppose we talk about "it" now rather than later." Ellie says in a rush, hands twisting together in front of her.

"It." John repeats.

"Oh, please don't make this harder on me than it already is, I don't--"

He stands to try to stop her worrying, reaching across the bar to grab her hand. "Hey, stop that." He says, a soothing thumb rubbing across the back of her hand. "When have you ever been scared to talk to me about anything?" His words are clipped, hurt.

"Let's go upstairs. Dad is out." She says, breath leaving her in a sigh.

He dutifully follows her to the upstairs apartment. It's not much, just a place to do the business part of the pub and a place to stay when the walk home at the end of the night seems too long.

It's quiet, the clock on the mantle ticking away.

Bucky feels his heart pounding in his ears with each step. He feels like they're on the precipice of something. Either she's going to put him out of his misery, or she's going to break his heart.

She sits heavily on the sofa, and he sits on the opposite end. Their knees brush. He aches for a more intimate touch, but he wants to give her all the space she needs to think.

"You're going to go home soon." She says, blunt.

He blinks rapidly. "I don't-- nothing's set in stone." He frowns. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

"Yes!" She says, exasperated. "You haven't said anything at all. We've been living in a bubble since you got back, and I'm not sure I'm cut out for it, John."

He flinches, just barely. "Are you-- are you finished with me?"

She moves closer, takes his face in her hands. "I don't want to be finished with you, and that's what scares me." Her voice shakes. "I wish we would have met sooner. I wish you were never shot down. I wish so badly you could have come here and taken me out to dinner, or dancing, and that we could have more time."

"Ellie." His voice is hoarse, but she doesn't let him finish.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out for this, John. Not because I don't want you, but because I do, so badly. And when you go home, it's going to break my heart clean in half. And I'm terrified of that."

"So let me stay." His voice is low, husky. His hands cover hers, still on the sides of his face. His fingers curl into hers, holding her tight, the conviction in his words echoed by his firm touch. "Not just for one night. I'll stay here with you."

Ellie is shaking her head. "I won't take you away from your mother."

His eyes close, emotion getting the better of him. His jaw clenches. "So here we are, then." He drops his hands.

She does the same, but instead her hands find his. Her fingers run over his knuckles, still scarred and scabbed. His hands, that held her so gently and that penned some of the sweetest letters she's ever read.

"Dad thinks I should see America."

John's eyes fly open. "Does he?"

She shrugs. "I've always wanted to go. It's time my brother does a few shifts behind the bar anyway."

He stands abruptly, pacing on the rug in front of her. He stops, one hand running through his hair. "What are you saying?"

"Well I'm not certainly not saying anything if you're not asking--"

He drops, right there, right to his knees in front of her. This time it's he who cups her face, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I would, you know. I'd ask you right now if I thought you'd say yes."

She frowns. "How do you--"

"Come with me. Meet my parents, my sisters-- God help me." He mutters the last part, and she laughs, though her laugh is clogged by tears. "Come with me, and then we'll decide what to do. And if your answer is that you want to come right back here, then we'll deal with that together too."

Ellie closes the distance between them and kisses him so hard she's worried about his still-healing scrapes and bruises, but he matches her breath for breath.

"No goodbyes," he whispers when they break apart. "Not yet."

He has no idea how the logistics of any of this are going to work, but he'll figure that out later.

As long as he doesn't have to kiss her goodbye tonight, or even tomorrow... he'll figure it out later.

#softspeirs mota fanfiction #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan x oc #john x ellie #this was never meant to be so angsty!!!!! #whoops #oc: ellie peters

[inthepeakymidwinter]

A Grand Distraction (Arthur Shelby x Reader) *smut*

*This story is 18+ no minors interact* Summary: Y/N leaves a party in a rush only to meet Arthur in a back room to comfort her. *cough cough emphasis on comfort* A/N: This was a weird old one I wrote and un-published just bc I felt uncomfortable at the time with writing smut but now I'm like fuck it lets gooo. Also LOWKEY I was making a hint to the newer Anna Karenina film bc i picture Count Vronsky (aaron taylor johnson) as 'Count Ostrovsky' lmfao don't judge me Word Count: 2750 TW: smut, alcohol, tight corset/hyperventilating Tags: @theshelbyclan @globetrotter28

————————————————

It was the night of the grand ball at the Russian Count Ostrovsky’s mansion. I wasn’t sure why, but the Count had taken a liking to the Peaky Blinder boys, and more so…me. It was uncomfortable for him to pine after me, but Tommy begged me to go. It was selfish for him to ask that of me, but I knew there was business to be done on his end and I didn’t want to get on his bad side. Truth be told I was frightened of the consequences, so I decided to play dress up for one night while the peaky boys did their thing. I wore a long burgundy ball gown that was so tight around my waist I could barely breathe. This was the one thing I could ask Tommy to buy for me and he didn’t complain. I told him if I was going to do his dirty work, I would have to do it properly, and well, properly I did.

I rode on the way to the mansion with none other than the mother hen of the Peaky Blinders, Polly Gray. “You know you are going to have the Count on your neck the entire time with this dress. He won’t want to leave your side” She stated bluntly. I nodded quietly and gazed out of the window of our car. I was so nervous I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to have the Count anywhere near me let alone breathing down my neck. I only wanted Arthur Shelby. The only man who could save me from this whole thing. Arthur was tall, slim, and had a heart the size of an elephant. He was so caring and sweet to me, but I could never understand him. He wouldn’t tell me anything about himself. He’d just ask how my day was going and carry on with bartending at the Garrison. I’d get a few stares from him when I would be caught talking to his brothers, but he never did anything other than stare. It had been months, and still nothing. I was starting to doubt myself and go along with Tommy’s plan already.

Polly and I stepped into the Count’s giant ballroom. His dance floor was massive, and the servers were passing everyone champagne as they walked by. I made my way around with Polly, we both sipped our champagne and eventually parted ways before I found the Peaky Blinder boys in a corner talking amongst themselves. The first to look at me was Thomas, he tried looking back to his brothers but failed miserably as I continued to hold his gaze. John and Arthur were trying to interact with Thomas but had to track what he was looking at because he could not speak without looking in my direction. Arthur shot his gaze down my way, and I felt my cheeks heat up. His dark eyes turned colder once he remembered what I was here for, and he turned away in the blink of an eye. I felt my heart start sinking, and before I was able to do anything about it, I felt a strange finger on my shoulder. I turned around to face the young, tall, and brightly blonde Russian Count Ostrovsky.  “Madam Y/N, would you like to dance?” He asked politely, kissing my hand gently. I blushed hard at the gesture, yet my heart felt pulled towards another direction.

“I would love to, but if I’m quite honest…I’m not really sure how” I spoke.

“Don’t worry” He wrapped his left arm around my waist. “We can remedy this situation in a matter of minutes…I’ve been told I’m a great dancer” He gloated.

I smiled at him and followed his steps carefully, trying hard not to step on his toes.

“Count Ostrovsky…How did you know I was here?” I asked as we danced together. His blue eyes sparkled as he held my gaze.

“I have my ways” He laughed.

In a few minutes our dance had finished, and I felt my lungs run out of air. The corset I wore had restricted me in the worst way. “I enjoyed dancing with you Count Ostrovsky” I spoke softly, purposely trying not to let him down harsh before parting ways with him. He accepted my leave with a simple yet friendly nod, and I walked off the dance floor towards the back of the room where I had seen the Peaky Blinder boys previously.

Thomas and John had run off to the dance floor, but Arthur was standing patiently in a corner by himself. I waved at him, and he gave me a small smile. I walked over slowly, sure to inhale and exhale smoothly so I didn’t pass out. “Arthur” I called him out. “I see you’re having fun” I pointed to the bottle of vodka he held in his hand. He nodded his head and took a long swig before looking my way again. On the way towards him I wobbled slightly on the back of my heel and nearly fell, but Arthur came to the rescue and held me for a moment. I looked deeply in his eyes, trying to breathe but instead Arthur came up with words for me.

“Aren’t you a grand distraction”.

I stood upright and looked around the room to keep myself from blushing. I spotted Polly talking to some young man and decided to dart over that way to spare my feelings for Arthur. I didn’t need things to go tragically wrong tonight, and Thomas told me I only had one job. Spend time with the count. I gave Arthur a soft smile before sliding my way towards Polly. She was laughing and drinking with some young prince I had seen before at another party. I tried to chat with them for a minute, but I was quickly pulled aside by Thomas. His blue eyes stared me down and I felt my stomach tighten. “Why are you not with the Count?” He asked sternly. “I-I don’t know, we were just dancing Thom-“ “Are you serious? You two are supposed to be in bed by now” He huffed.

“Are you serious? Am I just some whore to you? You know what…I quit, I’m done playing your games, Thomas” I snapped and stormed off from him.

As I ran off my corset kept tightening and I could barely breathe. I ran down a random darkened hallway and walked into what seemed like a personal library room. I hyperventilated in the quiet room, trying to figure out how to rip the dress off myself until I heard a voice from behind me.

“I see you’re all by yourself” Arthur spoke lowly, sending chills down my neck. I quickly turned around and his face fell. He saw that I was in desperate need of air.

 “Arthur…I need your help but you cannot tell anyone, okay?” I asked him quietly. He nodded his head and I started to look around the room for an escape route. There was none. I looked at the door and saw there was a lock. I went behind Arthur and locked the door

“Y/N what are you-“

“Arthur I need you to get me out of this” I began trying to untie my dress but I couldn’t reach the strings of fabric in the back.

“Y/N are you sure I shouldn’t get Polly” He said sheepishly. I turned to looked him dead in the eyes and yelled at him to help me take it off. It felt like my lungs were deflating by the second and I couldn’t bear to keep the dress on any longer.

“Arthur I can’t breathe I don’t have time-“ I shouted at him. I started to hyperventilate again and instantly I felt his warm, rough hands start detangling all the tight knots. Within a few minutes Arthur had reached the corset and released me from its dreaded grasp. I let out a big breath and nearly collapsed onto the nearby chaise lounge in nothing but my silky white underclothes. “Arthur I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to see me like this but-“

“Y/N…you’re all I ever want to see” He let out. My mouth dropped open slightly, and I felt myself get lost in his glazed eyes.

“I thought you didn’t like me like that, Arthur“

“With a bloody face like that, how could I not like you Y/N” He slurred a little and began to lean in for a kiss. I struggled with the thought of Thomas finding out, and didn’t move at first, but Arthur kept his distance once I showed a sudden disinterest.

“Thomas could find out-“ I gulped and looked into his eyes.

“Fook him” He smirked and cupped the side of my face gently. I felt my cheeks heat up as his eyes took me in. I couldn’t stand to hold the silent yet enamored gaze. I crashed my lips against his in one quick move, a desperate attempt to taste the lips of the one and only Arthur Shelby. He reciprocated my actions and locked his lips against mine. We broke away for a moment. A chance to catch each other’s breaths and assess the moment properly. “From the first moment I saw you in that dress, I wanted to devour every inch of you” Arthur growled lowly. He got closer to me and placed love hungry kisses on the right side of my neck. I breathed him in with each kiss, he softly sucked and nibbled at certain spots sending chills down my back.

 “A-Arthur” I whined.

“Tell me what you want, love” He commanded.

“You…Arthur” I mumbled as he kept kissing and sucking on my neck. His thick moustache sent me into sensory overload as it tickled and scratched me with each kiss. I didn’t know how much further we would get before we got caught but I didn’t ever want him to stop. I felt his rough hand slide against my underclothes slowly. He started at my collarbone then slid down towards my breasts. He took my right breast in his hand and gently but firmly caressed it then slid down lower towards the edge of my stomach. “Arthur” I whined. He looked at me as he slid his hand down lower, feeling the warmth between my legs radiate against his skin. It was then that he kissed me firmly again and bit my lip when our lips separated slowly. I whimpered at the thought of our kisses coming to an end if anyone realized we were gone for so long. “Arthur, someone could catch us” I worried aloud. He looked at me with furrowed brows, then sighed and kissed my nose.

“I don’t think I’d be able to stop even if someone did, Y/N” He spoke gently. I desperately craved him and his confidence. We kissed once more, and I straddled his legs as he lay on the chaise lounge. “I need you, Y/N” He grunted as I started grinding down on his thigh. I felt myself get wetter by the second and we spent the time kissing one another, slowly deepening this kiss, using our tongues slowly and playfully. Each time we touched it felt impossibly electric. A feeling that was extraordinary only because it was him. Not the count, not Thomas, not anyone else, just… Arthur.

“I wanna feel you love” He growled once more and ripped the top of my slip dress to show my breasts. I sat there in shock, but it quickly faded as soon as he reached down and started to kiss and suck on my breasts. He alternated with each one, teasing me and making my nipples hard until I moaned and squirmed in his lap. “A-Arthur please” I begged him with a thirsting need for him to please me properly.

“You want me?” He asked with a shine in his eyes. I nodded my head quickly and before I knew it, he was flipping me over, so that I was positioned under him on the chaise lounge. He began hovering over me slowly reaching up under my white slip dress. “Let me taste you first” He demanded and shoved his head under my dress. I had prayed to the sky that this man wouldn’t kill me before the night was over, but things weren’t looking too good on my end. I felt his hot breath surround my wet pussy. His lips had pressed against my clit and he started to lick me up and down, using the chance to suck on my clit whenever he desired to. It had sent me so overboard that I dug my nails into the arms of the leather chaise lounge. I didn’t know what else I could do but shout Arthur’s name each time I felt my stomach tighten into knots. He quickened his pace and it felt like I was on fire.

“Arthur-Arthur I’m going to c-cum pl-please” I moaned out. He took that as motivation to proceed eating me out as fast as he could. He swirled his tongue on my clit and licked downwards, sticking his tongue into my entrance. His tongue flicked and thrusted into me at record speed. I was on the brink of orgasm when he stopped altogether and left me hanging. He pulled himself out from under my dress and his hair was flattened, pieces falling to each side of his face. He reached up to me and crashed his lips down on me. I reciprocated the kiss as desperate as I knew how. “Arthur please…I need you” I whined for him.

“As you wish, Y/N” He smirked and undid his belt. I followed his thick, veiny hands towards his belt and the second it popped off his waist I was able to see his cock poking through his boxers.

“You’re so big” I gasped as he took off his boxers. He had the proudest grin on his face as he bent down and gave me a slow, deep kiss. I took him in my hands as we kissed and I felt his body shudder at the touch. I stroked him slowly and he separated my lips from his.

“You want me to fuck you huh?” He smirked. He shuffled around the chaise lounge, getting into a better position. I nodded my head and bucked my hips against his dick. It wasn’t until after that he saw the neediness in my eyes. He aligned his cock with my warm entrance. He thrust into me slowly, but all the way and I gasped with widened eyes. “You alright, love?” He asked softly. Even with all the lust and passion, Arthur was still a sweet gentleman on the inside. I nodded my head and he slowly thrusted himself into me. His low grunts filled me with a dark desire to make him orgasm. With each thrust I cried out his name and dug my nails into his back. I couldn’t help but to scream, his size wasn’t something I was used to.

“Art-Arthur!” I shouted as he sped up his thrusts. It felt like I was going to explode with bliss. He deepened his stroke and kept fucking me like he meant it.

“Cum for me, Y/N” He demanded roughly as he thrusted. I tried to control my breathing, but there was no point. I was finally getting all of Arthur. I bucked my hips and tried to control his thrusting from underneath, but instead Arthur sped up his thrusts and I didn’t even know he could go so fast. Every inch of him was hitting me at once and all I could do was dig my nails into him and cry out his name.

“I’m gonna c-cum, fuck Arthur” I panted out.

He kept his pace and praised me. “Good, cum for me, princess” His hands grabbed mine and forced my arms above my head. He stared deeply into my eyes as he kept thrusting quickly into me. I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I started riding out the high of my orgasm. “Good girl” Arthur complimented as he kissed and sucked on my neck. He kept fucking me until he came shortly after I did. He grunted and clenched up around my walls. I moaned softly and kissed him on the shoulder. Arthur slowly slid out of me and looked at me like he sobered up via orgasm.

 “Arthur…” I whispered.

“I told you…you’re a grand distraction Y/N” He breathed out

#arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby smut #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n

[muffinsin]

the real miracle is someone still writing for her in 2024 XD i’ve been following you for a looong while for the re8 content(which is absolutely amazing), and accidentally stumbled upon some long gone Faith Seed fanfic from yearss ago, the brainworms came back and I remembered seeing that my favorite dimi sister writer also wrote about her and i went 👀👀👀So I was wondering if you’d be willing to write some relationship hc’s about Faith and a badass gn!s/o(they could be the deputy or a reader insert whichever you feel more comfortable with) who looks as mean and as tough as they come but are like an overgrown puppy around Faith. I know your blog is mainly nsfw buttt ik you make some exceptions for sfw content ;) Also it’s my first time ever requesting something instead of just lurking from the side so im sorry if everything sounds messy af😭

Honestly yeah, the ao3 tag even is bombarded with her brothers instead of her, it’s a struggle ;-;

But, as the famous line goes

“Fine, I’ll do it myself” XD, gladly so!

Let’s get into it! :))

Masterlists

Not relationship HCs yet but overall dep/reader being a soft puppy around her XD

Faith has been called many names in the past; daughter, friend, traitor, manipulator, child, herald

A monster. A liar

The one with the flowers

When you stumble to the henbane river, she wonders

What will your name for her be?

It seems, you haven’t quite made up your mind yet

Truthfully, she is awfully curious about you from the moment you’ve stepped into her region of the land

Word is, you’ve caused her brothers quite a bit of trouble

Especially John

Having burned silos left and right, raided bases and taken those that were meant to be “freed”

She ached to visit her brother, if only to catch a glimpse of you

Of course, this is forbidden. She is to stay within the henbane river region

Joseph will not debate on this, she knows

Oh, but what is she doing at the river when her interest lays in the valley?

This changes, one day, when she receives word of your appearance near one of her outposts

From within the flower field, she can’t help but watch you

Joseph surely doesn’t have to know she just watches idly as you take the gas station over

What’s the harm in losing one outpost, after all? She knows, she’ll get it back

It’s unusual for her to be this disobedient. She knows, the Father’s word is law

And she knows, he would disapprove of her curiosity

She is tasked to convert you, not watch as you advance into her territory

She can’t help herself, though

Your rough appearance, the guns and knives, bats and blades strapped to your body, the self crafted weapons she knows to be in your backpack…

The scars along your body, at the very least the ones she can see and are not covered by clothing

Like her, you have a reputation

Rough, badass, mean, unrelenting, stubborn, wrathful, arrogant, merciless

Like you, she doesn’t cling to these terms. These names

She wants to create her own picture of you. Find out who you are really

In a way, it’s her job, to analyse, to pull in, and to take

She jumps at another gunshot, fired into one of her angels. More and more follow

She pities the lives that are lost that day

Oddly enough, she sees you aiming for her flowerfield

Have you received warning about them? Likely

Faith watches from behind a tree as you step into it. She knows, she shouldn’t be this close

She shouldn’t be outside her bunker at all. She shouldn’t be outside the Bliss. Joseph would disapprove

It’s curiosity, though, that pulled her out

The same curiosity that had her find the cult in the first place, too, only pointed towards you this time

She watches, wide eyed, when you suddenly jump back

An illusion of hers, yes. You must see it

Now, Faith is no stranger to the reactions of those who see such illusions of her

She anticipates the gunshot, or the tight beat of the bat that will cause her form to turn to mist

But, you do neither of these things

You don’t attempt to kill her on sight, even if you’re not yet aware it’s not truly her

You don’t even attempt to make her disappear. Instead, you merely tilt your head to the side, as though trying to figure her out

You seem to attempt to talk to her, but she cannot hear. She’s too far away, too far from her Bliss to reach into it and hear your words

Faith shudders for a moment. She feels the ground below her, too hard for her liking. The air, too cold on her bare arms and legs. Her feet are dirtied

This is not the Bliss. She knows, she must return soon

But, you’re so captivating…

You merely stare at her, until the illusion seems to poof away and you shake your head

As you exit her field of white flowers and step away, she frowns

You aren’t burning them down, like the rest of this resistance you’re a part of

You aren’t quite following their goals, she suspects

As she watches you drive off again, her head turns to the sky, far too blue. It’s never this blue in the bliss

She knows, she must return

Faith is- confused- by you

At first, she believed you to be hostile towards everything

And you are, in a way, to most things

And yet, you’re so tender with the illusions you practically drag from her

Never before has someone stepped into her flower fields as often

Once, you attempted to reach out to her, and drew back in shock when she turned to mist

Faith cursed herself. She couldn’t help but wonder, then, how you felt

At the same time, Jacob’s words ring in her mind often enough

Of manipulation and danger, the danger you pose. The wrath you’re bringing, supposedly

Faith doesn’t understand. There is no wrath in the way you treat her, even if it isn’t quite her

She decides to pull you into the Bliss properly

She fiddles with the flower in her hand nervously as she sees you approach, cautious, but eager

No one is with you, it’s only you

Just the way she likes it

“You’re back”, you whisper

She can’t help but giggle a little

It’s rather: you’re back

Faith has been finding you in her flower fields nearly every hour, as though you’re searching for her

And she always appears to you, in the form of the smoke of the bliss

But yet, not this time. This time she drags you into it. This time it’s her

And it’s making her nervous. Has her wish to drag you into it personally made her foolish?

What if you notice it is her in the flesh and fire?

Jacob has warned her of the dangers of the resistance members

She tries not to let it show. She knows, she is meant to appear confident

Carefree

Her white dress flutters in the wind and she shivers

As she walks around her field, she notices you follow eagerly

You always keep your distance- the exact distance to avoid her illusions poofing away. You’ve been paying attention to them

You’re not farther away, nor closer

Until she stretches out her hand

“Let me show you the Bliss”, she whispers

To her surprise, your eyes and expression does not turn angry, or alarmed

You smile at her, and cautiously reach out

Faith automatically takes a step back when you suddenly step into her personal space

You’re grinning, a full on smile she has never heard anybody describe on you before

She didn’t think you would smile

“You’re real”, you realise. She gasps when you poke her shoulder

“Stop that!”, she giggles. She can’t help the peaceful moment

She’s not in the Bliss yet, this is the real world. Joseph has no way of knowing she’s allowing herself this interaction

You don’t pull your gun, nor your other weapons. In fact, your hands are empty as you reach for her again

“Show me”, you seem to plead

And Faith all too happily does

She laughs gleefully at the feeling of the Bliss around her, her lips pursing as she blows some of the powder to your face

As you awaken, you immediately move back to her side, now too in the world of her creation

She giggles, her fingertips stroking the petals of the flowers below her

She sees you follow her, no matter where she goes. When she steps back, you follow

She knows, her goal is to bring you into the Father’s statue, to test your faith

But she is curious, and is having to much fun

How come you are following her like a lost puppy?

How long will you indulge her?

She giggles happily and carelessly as she grasps your hand and runs through her flowerfield

The world seems so soft, so warm and light. She loves the sensation

Faith gasps when you come to a halt, her hand in yours tugged and keeping her from running again

Even in this world, you’re strong

For a moment, she fears what you will do, standing still with her hand clasped tightly in yours

You’re holding hers even tighter than she holds you, but not uncomfortably so. It doesn’t hurt her

In fact, you seem very careful around her, as though she was as petite as the flowers she is known for

The auburn haired woman watches wide eyed as you pick one, and another

She feels her face heat up even in this Bliss world of hers when they are handed to her

“For you”

Faith likes to think she isn’t one to easily fluster (Yes she is)

And yet, she finds herself with pink cheeks every time her dear deputy crosses her path

And it’s often, really

There are countless times she is summoned to one of her fields by your presence, doing her best to concentrate so she will not simply poof away when you near her

She knows, you won’t hurt her

And she knows, you travel alone, and don’t allow anybody else to do as much as aim at her

And each time she is summoned, she feels your leathery, gloved fingertips press against hers when you push another flower into her hand

It’s almost as though you’re retrieving them for her

She expects no less this time, but is surprised when she receives more

“Stay still?”, you ask

She knows, her brothers would scold her for her delusion and nativity, for she closes her eyes and stands still with her hands clasped together behind her back

She’s vulnerable to attacks, she knows this

But, funnily enough, she has faith in you

And this is not betrayed. No harm comes to her, only the feathery soft sensation of flower petals brushing against her head

First her cheeks, then her forehead

Her unpainted lips part when she feels you tuck a strand of hair behind her ear

Next, something is sat on her head

Faith knows the familiar sensation of a flower crown

“Okay, open!”

She adores your excitement

Faith smiles as she opens her eyes, bright and happy when she raises her hand and petite fingertips brush against the white flower petals

You smile down at her, wide and happy, satisfied with yourself

“Thank you”

She knows, in time you too have put your faith in her

Not Joseph. Her

She never speaks of your soft nature to anyone

She never lets anybody know how you are around her when she hears of the trouble you’re causing her brothers whenever you venture into their regions

She isn’t stressed when you leave the henbane river

You always return

With gifts, usually, such as honey and apples from a farm in the valley

Or perhaps even magazines, and once- Faith remembers, you even retrieved her a red dress found in the mountains region of Hope County

She didn’t have the heart to tell you she was to only wear the white one gifted to her by Joseph

Still, she likes to look at it and hold it in front of her at mirrors in her base, the fabric tucked away in a suitcase under her bed

She also notices in time- you’re quite touchy with her

Whether in the real world or the Bliss, you like to stick close, and ideally hold onto her

She knows, you’re fond of holding her hand

At other times you like to pick flowers and hand them to her. Faith is not stupid, but allows you the action as an excuse to touch her

She often feels your hand on her hip, playing with the fabric of her dress

Never do you tug

Never would you dare attempt to tear it

You’re careful with her, clingy and sweet, and in return, she’s free with you

A secret shared between the two of you

#faith seed #far cry 5

[zeddimusprime]

Trans Man Noah Diaz

The first time I saw Rise of the Beasts, I read Noah as a Trans Man, and that headcanon just solidified after my second viewing.

I’ll get the heavy reasons out of the way first, and work down to the most silly ones.

The section that was here before has been removed, because I was overstepping and someone rightly called me out on it. However. I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t do what I did. I deleted the comment that called me out because it made me feel bad, I panicked, and deleted it to save my own ego. It was wrong, it was cowardly, it was fucked up, and I shouldn’t have done it.

I truly am sorry, and have spent the last day sitting with myself until I stopped trying to excuse my behavior and just acknowledged what I did. I am not asking for forgiveness, I can only try going forward to be the kind of person deserving of it.

For now, I’m taking a break from this blog, leaving it on a queue, and I won’t be posting here for a while. Even though that isn’t the kind of person I want to be, I need to reckon with the fact that that is the kind of person I am. I’m sorry, once again.

1994 was also the year Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was put into place, which, for those too young to remember, was basically a policy allowing queer and trans people to serve in the military so long as they remained closeted, and prohibited superiors from forcibly outing them. Given that we’re never actually told in the film why Noah was discharged, it’s not unreasonable to think that it may have been because he got found out as trans.

The part that’s particularly personal for me is his relationship with Kris. I’ve also got a little brother that’s quite a bit younger than me, and I acted as an extra parent to him, practically raised him since we were both latchkey kids, and yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d face the apocalypse head on if it meant keeping him safe. All that to say, it’s comforting to think that Noah’s identity as a man is inseparable from his identity as a Big Brother, the way it is for me.

Most of my other reasons are less serious:

Noah wears a lot of layers and baggy clothes on his upper half, which yes, was part of 90s fashion, but it’s also how I dressed for most of my life, even before I realized I was trans.

Noah is also non-toxically masculine in a way that’s not unheard of but also not as common for men, especially service members, of that time period. Again, there may very well be a cultural component I’m missing here, let me know if there is, but this is just something I related to as a Guy Who Wasn’t Raised As One.

This last one’s kinda silly, but I’m a Car Guy, and one of the most gender euphoria inducing things I can do is work on my car. There’s few things that make me feel like Man quite like sweat on my brow and grease on my hands and a purring engine from a job well done. So for Noah to not only be a tech wiz but specifically a Mechanic? That was the thing that really sold me on this headcanon. (And that’s not even getting into the very fun implications of Noah being the one to repair Mirage, to get to know him so intimately, literally inside and out. Very nice.)

(I also love the idea that rather than being weirded out or taken aback at first like he is in some fics, Noah would be kinda weirdly affirmed to find out that not only does Mirage have some of roughly the same *equipment* while still being treated as and being a Mech, but his setup is the norm for Cybertronians. I can so picture Noah anxiously telling Mirage about his situation when they finally get together only for Mirage to be like “you mean other human mechs don’t have a 🐈??? Like, most humans only have one or the other?????”)

#Transformers #Noah Diaz #Trans Man Noah Diaz #Noah/Mirage #Rise of the Beasts #Miroah #TF: RotB #Transformers Rise of the Beasts #Mirage #trans headcanon #also in researching this i was reminded of the existence of Pedro & Me #it's a really good graphic novel by Judd Winick about his friend Pedro Zamora #they appeared on the 1994 season of MTV's The Real World #Pedro was the first positive depiction a lot of Americans got of an HIV+ gay man #he unfortunately died late that same year #sorry for rambling comic books are one of my special interests #anyway it's a good book you should read it if you can

[rbbrbikerthorp]

From Work Stressed to Smoking Skinhead

[Initially, I’d intended this to be a one-off story, but the set-up has taken so long that there’s going to have to be a second part. Enjoy!]

I’m Gaz, I’m 31. I’m a skinhead. In the picture you can see what I look like, now that my new m8s have transformed me, and have made me unrecognisable from the person I once was.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. Before I forget who I was, let me tell you about how I came to be here. I had a job that some would describe as being a stressful way to earn a living. I was one of those office drones who chased figures every month. As part of my job, I was required to travel, often several times a week; this could be to London, Birmingham, Edinburgh, or where-ever our customers were based. In preference to sitting in traffic on the motorway, taking the train was the stress-free way to travel. It meant I could use the time to check reports or presentations and, on the way, home I’d catch up on any emails that needed dealing with.

So, this one day when my life changed forever, I had a table seat booked on the 6:40am to London, but when I looked at the departure board and saw the word every traveller dreads, ‘cancelled’ was posted against my train. So like dozens of other passengers heading for the capital on that day I was told to catch the next train. When I climbed on board, I realised the train was already very crowded. I’d struggle to get any seat, let alone find a table seat. I walked through three carriages, but there was no empty seats. Just as I was about to accept that I’d be standing in the vestibule, I heard, “Oi, fella...” a voice. Was that aimed at me?

I turned around. “Here fella, the window seat is free”. So, he was talking to me. I was so grateful for the offer of the seat that, other than his shaved head, (which is normal for many guys these days), At this point I hadn’t taken much notice of him. I thanked the shaved headed guy then I got my laptop out of my bag, which I put up on the luggage rack. Then I took off my jacket hung it on the peg next to the window and plonked myself down in the seat. Very quickly I was lost catching up on a report I needed to finish.

As soon as the train departed, I heard the familiar sound of cans being opened and the familiar smell of beer, which wasn’t that appealing at this time of day. “You look really stressed mate. You should have one of these.” 

I looked up watch, it was just after seven in the morning, “er, what?” I asked. It was then that I realised I was looking at a guy with a completely shaved head, wearing what I thought was a black polo shirt and green kind of bomber jacket.

“You heard. Do yer want a can, a beer?” it was a different voice. I looked up from my screen to see another guy with a shaved head. He was holding out a can of beer, one I didn’t recognise. “I’m Sam by the way.” That’s Billy already ‘on the pop’, and this”, pointing at a slightly older looking guy in the other aisle seat, “is Jimmy.”

“Oh, no thanks. I should have been on the earlier train, but it got cancelled. I didn’t think I’d get a seat on this train because it’s so busy. I’ve got a meeting that starts at 9:30 and I’ve got a report to prepare for it.”

Jimmy quickly chirped in, “Come on”, pulling the ring-pull, “that’s over two hours from now, here.” He grabbed my hand and gave me the can.

“No, honestly, it’s very kind of you, but I’ve...”

Sam interrupted, and I looked over at him. “Listen, I can see how stressed you are right now. I can see the sweat on yer top lip. You need to relax or yer gonna blow a fuse. I bet you’ll be talking bollocks all day in the hope of closin’ a sale or summit’. Chill m8, you can surely spare a few minutes to have a beer. And it would show us how much you appreciate us giving you the seat. Now, you know our names, tell us yours.”

Reluctantly, but out of politeness, I accepted the can. and said “Cheers. I’m Gareth  by the way, Gareth Fairburn” Not really sure why I included my surname. They all looked at me as I took my first swig of the beer, and coughed “Wow, that’s got a kick.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get used to it after a few swigs”, said Billy. “I fact I’m pretty sure it’ll be your drink of choice when we’re done with you.”

“You know this is very nice of you...” I said, about to get back to working my report. But before I could look down, I saw Jimmy’s hand reach across and shut the lid on my laptop. I could see letters on the knuckles and there was a bird tattoo on the back of his hand. “C’mon fella, put your work stress aside for a bit and have a natter with us while you sup your beer.” 

Jimmy read me like a book, I was stressed. I was on my way to see a key customer; one that knew how important they were to the business I worked for and would make me jump through hoops to get the contract renewed. I knew I had to finish the report because I’d promised to email it ahead of my meeting. I was thinking about looking for another seat, when Jimmy coughed to get my attention. I looked up at him; He had that rough but good-looking appearance. Until then, I hadn’t noticed the ink on his neck, it looked like some ancient design but I couldn’t really see it properly. It was the first time I noticed the rings in his ears too. He grinned at me. I watched him swig his beer from the can. At that point I knew wasn’t heading off to a stressful meeting. He wouldn’t be selling his soul to get a contract renewed.

Jimmy leaned forward and I could smell his smokey breath. “Right, let me tell you how it’s going to be Gaz, my boi. We’ll take your stress away, but before we can help you need to tell us about who you are and what you do. Got it?” 

Billy belched several times, The belches were so loud and the other people looked up from their laptops and tablets to see where the sound was . He slammed his empty can of beer down on the table in front of me. “So m8 what do you do?”

My heart was pounding; yet suddenly, I felt that a weight lifted from my shoulders. These guys had shown an interest in me. No one normally did that, not my boss, not my customers, not my family. They wanted to help with my stress. So, I took another swig from the can - I wondered whether people really like this taste? Anyway, I began telling them was a commercial development manager.  

“You in sales then Gaz?” Billy interrupted. 

“I guess you could put it that way,” I replied 

“Keep drinking mate, it’ll help yer stress go away for now.” I did as I was told and took another swig from the can Jimmy pulled another one out of the bag and pushed it towards me. “See, we’ve got plenty. And we want to help de-stress our new m8.”

I was about to take another swig of beer when I remember, “...ah, I’ve got to do this report, or I’ll be.”

Sam jumped in. “You’ve got plenty of time.” Like the other two, he had a shaved head, but he also had a gold ring in his nose, when he talked, I could see a stud in his tongue and there were tattoos in multiple places.

“Yeah, Gaz plenty of time to do work boring shit...I bet you work all hours of the day and night. That’s why you get stressed.” 

I was about to say I did, but they spoke first. “Here you are Gaz, you can have another can with us. If you want, we can give you a stress-free life” 

“If only.” I sighed.

“Listen m8, we can make all those worries go away,” Sam was leaning up close to me now. 

I realised I was slurring my speech at this stage, “Please, my name is Gareth. Look, I’ve a lease on my flat, I’ve got car payments to make and I’m running an overdraft right now. I don’t think you can make that go away” I replied, feeling slightly sick at the amount of debt I was funding. 

“Don’t you fret about all of that,” The other two joined in, “let us take charge and your problems will be gone.” 

What could I say to that? So I smiled a knowing smile and thought I’d humour my skinhead m8s. Hemmed in the way I was, I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to. I don’t really remember too much more of the conversation as my three new m8s plied me with beer; but it was me talking and they were listening. At the time I didn’t realise they were that whilst I was taking relatively big gulps of beer, they were only taking small sips from their own cans.

An announcement came on the tannoy to say the next stop would be Doncaster. Jimmy piped up, “Right lads, we’re here. Gaz, get up and we’ll show you how to live stress-free.” Through my haze, I didn’t really know what was going on. Then all of a sudden, I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me out of the seat. I was about to get my stuff when Billy came really close to me and said, “Come on Gaz, we gotta go. Now!” 

“Why do they insist on calling me Gaz?” I wondered

“[Burp] Hang on guys my name’s Gareth, and I’m going to a mee...” I was cut short by Billy again. “You’re meeting has just been cancelled, so you’re gonna be spending the day taking it easy with us. And we’re calling you Gaz, so get used to it. Let’s go.”

“What about my stuff?” I was trying to pull back so that I could grab my bag, coat and laptop. But Billy and Sam pulled me along the carriage. I tried to pull in the opposite direction, the direction of my belongings, but they were too strong for me. I had allowed myself to be marched off the train by two of my three new skinhead m8s who were going to ‘help me’ get rid of all my anxieties. 

Once off the train, I turned around to hear the audible warning that the doors were about to close started, I was watching the train doors slide into the closed position when Jimmy came up to me holding a lit cigarette. 

Blowing the smoke in my face, he spoke with reassured confidence. “The train’s departing and as you watch it leave, think this: with it goes your old life. With it goes all of your stresses and problems.” I watched the train pull out of the station, and he was right, on board were all my possessions, including my wallet and phone. I was about to panic, but Billy and Sam were beside me, holding me. Jimmy offered me a cigarette to which I declined. He came into my face and said, “take it,” he ordered. “It’s the first step to getting rid of all that stress. We’re m8s. If yer m8s smoke, then you smoke!”

I was still under the influence of whatever beer I’d been drinking, so gingerly I took the cigarette, but I didn't know how to hold it. Billy got his lighter out and lit it. “Put it between your lips and start sucking Gaz.” So, I sucked in as the flame touched the end of the cigarette. My fingers, clamped on the little cigarette, which, as you would expect for a novice was poorly positioned in my mouth. The smoke, ashy and light, filled my mouth, made my eyes water. I coughed on every drag, even though I barely inhaled. My three skinhead m8s were beside themselves with laughter. I noticed passengers gathering for the next train, and I heard them comment about smoking being banned in stations, but new m8s didn't care. Once I’d finished the first cigarette, Jimmy handed me another. “Right, here’s what you do. Put the cigarette between your lips. When I light it, gently suck the smoke - nice ‘n’ steady into your lungs.”

I gave it a go and found this time I wasn’t spluttering everywhere. 

Jimmy continued, “now hold the smoke in yer lungs, and breathe in through your mouth.” I did as I was instructed. Jimmy reached into the pocket of his green jacked, as he was pulling out the contents, he said, “these are yours now. If we are going help alleviate you of your work stress you need to get through these. When you’ve finished that one, light up another.”

It wasn’t a request; it was an instruction.

Sam, who’d been talking on his phone during this time chipped in, smiling at me, “nice one m8, you’ll be smoking twenty a day before you know it.” 

I just nodded, not taking much notice of what was going on as I tried to master smoking a cigarette.

Sam turned to the other two skinhead, “Tony said he’s got no appointments this morning and he can be at the studio in ten minutes. It will take us about that long to walk there with Gaz, even in the state he’s in.” 

Hearing my name, piqued my interest in their conversation, “wh... wh. where ere are we going?”

Billy jumped in, “we’re taking you to another m8′s gaff. His work is transformative. In no time at all your work worries will be a faded memory.”

Sam has started sniggering, so had Jimmy, but then he managed to say, “Before we can go to Tony’s studio, we need to stop off with Gaz at the house. Let’s get a move on, we’ve a lot to do.”

#slkinhead #smoking #ranger boots

[michelle-is-writing]

Missing You, Ben Hardy

Since Ben left for filming a couple months ago, I’ve been okay. Of course, I’ve been missing him ever since he left. The text messages and phone calls have made up for the lack of conversations we used to have, and the constant pictures he sends me help me still feel connected to him. But lately, I’ve been missing him the hardest, and I couldn’t tell you why either.

During the day, I’m fine. I go about my daily rituals as usual, but at night, when I get ready to go to bed, it’s like I’m hit with a mix of sadness and longing for Ben to be back by my side. Some nights, I can’t fall asleep until it’s past three or four in the morning. I can’t explain why - it’s just something that happens now.

For some reason, tonight is the worst it’s ever been for me. I’ve tried everything I can to fall asleep. I’ve taken melatonin, turned off every bright light, made sure that there were no noises coming from anything, turned my phone off, everything. I even tried to meditate for a while, but I eventually gave up when I realized it wasn’t working for me either. I've also had “relaxing” music playing since I first started getting ready to go to bed, but that obviously didn’t work either.

Every time I close my eyes, images of Ben flash in my mind. I remember specific times like when we go out together and just enjoy each other's time. I’m also reminded of the times when we go out with friends and how Ben always holds me to him in front of everyone with his arm tight around my waist and my back pressed against his chest. It makes me feel like he’s so thankful to have me there with him when he does this. More importantly, I remember the times when he said things exactly like that to me. Hearing the love of your life say, “I’m so happy to have you in my life,” is something that you’ll cherish and remember for a very, very long time - if not forever.

The only problem with that is with moments like these when you can’t be with them. In that case, you’re left to simply think about that special person rather than see or hear them. You can’t hold them or love on them. You can’t even laugh with them and see their face crinkle up because of that laughter. So, you’re left to miss them immensely, and it sucks.

It really sucks.

Looking over at my alarm clock, the bright red lights tell me it’s almost 4:30, and I’m left to groan in response. Last night, I didn’t pass out until 3, and I had to wake up for work today with only 4 hours of sleep in my system. I don’t want to have another night like that. Granted, I may not have to work tomorrow, but still. I don’t want to fall asleep at the same time people are getting up to start the day if I can help it.

Frankie beside me stirs in her sleep before getting up and heading out into the living room. At that, I kind of laugh. She must’ve gotten tired of me constantly tossing and turning. I’m tired of it too, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.

With a sigh, I turn on my side toward the wall and try to close my eyes once more. At first, I’m joyful that finally, nothing pops up. No images of Ben or anyone else. Just the darkness of what I’m hoping is looming sleep.

For a few moments, this lasts until I start thinking about how nice Ben’s touch felt against my skin. The way his slightly rough hands had such a gentle grasp when he touched me is something that can wake me up instantly, but I’m trying to not let the memory of it do that. However, reminiscing on his touch seems to be too much for me as I actually feel his touch on me now despite him being six hours away. The mind can certainly be one powerful thing.

“Are you awake?”

As soon as I hear Ben’s voice, my eyes shoot open and I quickly turn over to see him standing by the side of the bed, a smile on his face. Granted, the only light in the room is the dim red hue coming from my alarm clock, so I’m assuming the lines on his cheek mean he’s smiling.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim, nearly jumping out of bed to throw myself at Ben. Thankfully, he’s quick to catch me in his arms, but that doesn’t stop us from tumbling down onto the floor with a soft thud, resulting in laughter coming from Ben. Conversely, I immediately pull back to look at Ben despite the room still being pitch dark.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, my hands searching his face and head for any injury, again, in complete darkness. His answer comes to me in even more laughter, his hands quickly finding mine to press soft and gentle kisses to the skin.

“Darling, I’m fine, but I do have to say that was one of the best welcome home greetings I have ever gotten,” Ben assures me before leaning forward to press another kiss to my lips, but his lips meet the side of my nose instead. We both know that one of us should really turn the light on so we can see each other, but going by the fact that I’m on top of Ben, it’ll have to be when I decide to let go of him.

Smiling, I nuzzle my face into his neck. “I’m just happy you’re home,” I tell him, sitting back on his lap so I can turn on the bedside lamp. Ben’s hands instantly make their way to my hips when I do this, his fingers lightly massaging the skin of my exposed waist as soon as they make contact. Once the room has some light flooding through it, I look down at Ben and smile upon seeing his face after so long of having to settle for just pictures or FaceTime. He smiles back at me, a happy sigh falling from his lips afterward.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, darling,” Ben murmurs, a blissful gaze falling over his face. Sliding his arms up from my hips, he rests them against my back all while simply holding me to him as we lie on the hardwood floor of our bedroom. “Could hardly sleep without you, it was horrible.”

At his words, the corner of my lip upturns knowing he missed me too, but at the same time, he probably suffered the same sleep deprivation as me. “I had a hard time sleeping while you were gone too,” I tell him, feeling my body begin to relax on top of him. “I haven’t gotten much sleep either, especially tonight,” with a smile, I press a kiss to Ben’s jaw as I lean my head up a bit. “It's a good thing since you got home early, babe.”

Ben smiles with me in response to my words before swiftly sitting up with me still clinging to his body, my legs now on either side of him as his face rests mere centimeters from mine. The action surprises me for a short second until I let out a small giggle, my brain reminding me of my boyfriend’s superhero muscles that allow him to do those things with me, things that make me absolutely crazy.

“Let’s get back into bed, yeah?” He suggests, standing up with one hand pushing him off the ground and the other keeping my body against his. Once again, I cling tightly to him, my rigid stature only relaxing when my back makes contact with our bed. However, Ben doesn’t move, and instead, he remains on top of me. After a few moments, I speak up.

“Are you comfortable?” My question makes Ben quietly laugh as he knows putting his entire weight on me is not always comfortable, but I won’t complain either.

"I always want to be on top of you, love," He tells me with another sly chuckle before shuffling down in the bed. Now lying mostly on my torso and in between my legs, Ben peers up at me from where he lays his head on my stomach. “How about now? Are you comfortable?”

“Very,” I tell him, moving a hand to comb through his blonde locks. Once my hand touches his head, Ben nuzzles his face against my hand like earlier. In only a matter of seconds, Ben's eyes fall shut as he a soft sigh leaves his nose.

“I missed you… so much,” he admits, “I’d really like it if you came with me next time, even if it’s just for a week,” Ben’s eyes open after his last statement, looking intently at me as I process his suggestion. It would be great to spend that time with him, but I never asked before as I didn't want to distract him while he works.

"As much as I loved your greeting from earlier," Ben speaks up once more, breaking me away from my thoughts and over I’d love it even more if you greeted me like that after filming.”

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy x fem reader #ben jones #roger taylor x fem!reader #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor #roger taylor x reader

[miracles-and-butterflies]

Hello! Hope I'm doing this right :)

Sooooo about the Brooklyn 99 au................ I am very excited and wanted to ask if triplets and Alma (and Pedro) are in the picture too? And who is the new captain, is it who I think it is? 😀🫢

And is the precinct like Casita? Maybe it is a really old place and it creaks sometimes and it sounds like it's talking? And maybe the characters interpret the precinct 'talking' according to their needs (like, Mirabel or Dolores - to prove their point, or Camilo - to have an excuse to fool around)?

And do the Madrigals fall in the established characters (e.g. I suppose Camilo could be Peralta, Luisa or Isabela - Rosa and etc.)?

And how does Aaron look like?

And do you mind if I come up with a kind of a story with this au? I have an idea, and I think it would get richer once I hear your answers!

There is no right or wrong way to do it, don’t worry!

I love it when people send me tons to answer.

This is going to be a long one.

Alma, Julieta, Pepa and their husbands are in the picture too, yes. But serve as relatively background roles, I’m afraid - to fill the parental relationships that you see in B99. They’ve been split, so each of them does parent one of their respective “kids”. There is an exception to this, however, as Pedro, Antonio and Bruno (we’ll come back to him) aren’t related to any of the “kids” at all and are their own characters.

Alma is Bruno’s mother

Julieta is Luisa and Mirabel’s mother

Agustín is Isabela’s father

Pepa is Camilo’s mother

Félix is Dolores’ father

However, they all keep elements of both their canon parents.

E.g.

Mirabel’s design is inspired by Agustín - very classy and formal in her dress.

But yes, Bruno (who keeps the surname Madrigal) is going to be their new captain.

~~~

The precinct is how you see it in the show. Modern building.

Casita, however, plays a role as the local bar in place of Shaw’s. Where it is in fact old and creaking. A theory is passed around that the place is haunted - though that is mainly to scare off firefighters, and occasionally Mirabel (Camilo likes winding her up)*. In saying that, there has been unexplained accounts of strange things happening.

The odd door might hit you if you get too riled up. The chairs always seem to be there to catch you. There’s a few tiles that seemingly clink to the music. Etc.

*To note - Mirabel was in a collapsing building as a child and she still gets freaked out over any building being potentially broken or unsafe.

~~~

They somewhat fall into established characters. Some more than others:

Camilo is Jake

Aaron is Charles

Osvaldo is Hitchcock

Rendon is Scully

Dolores is Amy (NOT romantically)

Isabela and Luisa both flick back and forth between being Rosa & Gina. Isa can’t do the more stoic and silent demeanour of Rosa, while Luisa isn’t quite as bold and verbally brutal as Gina.

Mirabel doesn’t really fit with any pre-established character, but is somehow the mother of the squad (in spite of literally being the youngest and having no authority). If you consider Terry being the father. So there’s that.

Bruno initially starts off a lot like Holt, but slowly becomes more of himself as time progresses and Camilo starts bringing out his more chaotic side.

~~~

Aaron was purely created for the purpose of giving Camilo his own Boyle.

I’ve been using this kid (from the Where Is Bruno Hiding? Book) as inspiration for his design:

~~~

I am absolutely honoured that you’ve taken such an interest in my AU. I’d love to hear more of your story idea first, if that’s alright.

It is still new and I haven’t done much for it yet myself, as this is the first ask I’ve received from it.

#encanto #encanto nine nine au #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #bruno madrigal #ask me anything #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #félix madrigal #agustín madrigal #alma madrigal #pedro madrigal #antonio madrigal #my art

[asurrogateblog]

Cannibals, Pirates, and PhDs: How Did I Get Here?

I mentioned in some tags earlier that I’ve only actually been a real fan of Pink Floyd for under a year, and that the confluence of events that led up to it is pretty absurd. Some interest seemed to be taken in this, so I though I’d elaborate.

I didn’t know how to shorten this timeline and have it make any sense, so it’s... long. But idk, I think it’s pretty funny. If you’re nosy like I am this is for you.

My Backstory Timeline:

early childhood: my parents essentially mainline me and my little sister with The Beatles. I know almost no songs written past the 70’s until at least sixth grade. I develop a childhood crush on Paul McCartney, a joke that the universe really decides to play the long game on.

2014: my dad calls me over one night, and gravely tells me he’s been waiting to share something until I’m old enough. I brace myself to be told about sex or secret half-siblings. Instead, he tells me I need to listen to The Wall. Irritated at the idea of wasting an hour and half of my night, I nevertheless comply and go up to my room and put it on. I do not come back from this, clearly having inherited some sort of generational curse.

Around the same time, I am also secretly watching Hannibal every time my parents send me upstairs because Game of Thrones is “too gory”. This will trigger three important things: an interest in psychology, a love of horror media, and a classical music phase will train my attention span to last well past the three minute mark.

2014-2023: Over the intervening years, I become a casual fan of Pink Floyd, but make a deliberate point not to learn anything about the band. I like being able to imagine my own meanings for the songs. Also, I am motivated against this by a childhood memory of being deeply frightening by a picture of old Paul McCartney (LOL). I do not want that to ever happen again, so no learning.

Cut to April of 2023: I am finishing up my first year of my PhD program studying media psychology. I am in a bad place mentally, and am going through another horror movie phase to fill the hole. As a result, I get very into American Psycho. The main character, Patrick Bateman, is a fan of superficial 80’s pop music, particularly Genesis. I decide to start listening to Genesis to see if I agree with his tastes. While researching “best Genesis albums”, I come across The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway. I listen to it, and am blown away. I had no idea that the Phil Collins band made music like that. This sends me down the prog-rock rabbit hole. I still won't learn any lore.

Summer of 2023: MEANWHILE, I am also going through another pirate phase. I have a fairly encyclopedic knowledge of 18th century piracy (and am still quite active in the Black Sails fan community). Around this time, I get really obsessed with this one random guy named Dennis McCarthy who was hanged in 1718.

I decide to work poor Dennis into a science fiction story I’ve been working on. The premise is essentially that the universe is an abandoned simulation, and a ‘glitch in the matrix’ starts to, among other things, bring people from the wrong time periods back to life. The format of the story is vaguely monster-of-the-week, in which the characters have to solve various problems caused by mistakes in the code. I think, “hey, you know what would be perfect for this? that fanfic I wrote about The Wall in high school.” Said fic (which that stupid fucking beatles movie stole from me) is about a world in which Pink Floyd never existed, but a wannabe rock-star discovers a box full of their records and decides to copy them. While he is touring his plagiarized version of The Wall, he realizes that the events of the album are starting to happen to him in real life. By working this concept into my new story, I go through another one of my periodical The Wall phases. It's in full swing when fall rolls around.

September of 2023: This semester, I take a grad-level narrative theory class in the English department. I decide it would be helpful to follow along with a specific example, so I choose The Wall. Using the terminology I am learning in the class, I start to realize that The Wall is…. incredibly narratologically fucked up. To help orient me, I watch the bootleg concert recordings, and the trick with the surrogate band sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore.

This is where the two plot-lines converge. I don’t remember which came first, but around this same time, I think to myself “hey, if Genesis was hiding such an incredible album under the 80’s pop, what must Pink Floyd be hiding?” On that whim, I put on Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which equally sends me so out of my mind that I decide I must break my rule about never learning band lore. I needed to know what the fuck happened to get them from Piper to The Wall.

September-November: In the two months between the onset of this and finally making another sideblog, I dedicate all of my free time to learning as much about Pink Floyd as humanely possible (and writing a 20 page essay for that narrative theory class). As you can imagine, this is a lot to unpack all at once for someone who didn’t even know who Roger or Syd or any of the rest of them were. Luckily, I am over-educated enough to be a very fast learner. Aside from the band lore itself, I of course also fall in love with the rest of Pink Floyd's discography musically-speaking. Having this interest to latch onto genuinely pulls me out of my depression.

Cut to February 2024: I am really enjoying myself, and want to keep this going as long as possible, but I am starting to scrape the bottom of the barrel on Pink Floyd lore. I decide I need to feed the fire by supplementing with lore from another band. The Beatles seem to have a strong fan presence on tumblr, why not revisit a childhood favorite? The universe laughs at my expense.

That about brings us up to date. I have gone through so much character development over the last eight months, it’s crazy. Pink Floyd is definitely one of those things that is less of a “phase” and more of a permanent part of my mindscape. Weirdly enough, since I am studying media psychology, all of this has also been really good for my career? I never took an interest in -real- media figures (as opposed to fictional characters) before, and I feel like I have a much clearer sense of things now. It's definitely influenced my research, so whatever domino effect this has on my future is bound to get even funnier.

Anyway, that’s my backstory!

#it’s interesting re-examining how my relationship to The Wall has changed over time. #strange how you can love something as a kid but not really personally relate to it. and then you grow up and suddenly you’re like... #...oh shit. there -must- have been a door there when I came in #// #that makes it sound less fun than its been tho #god. i've had so much fun. im actually glad i took so long to get into band lore so I could learn all this -now- #i had kind of worked myself into a (very silly) mental spiral of 'what if I've run out of new things to discover' #and it's been so. idk... healing for me to realize all of this has been here the whole time #(clenching my teeth: ....emotional vulnerability....)

[daisybeewrites]

for the speak now prompts,

The team or philindaisy to Long Live 👀

you got it love. made myself tear up a bit ngl 🫶

~~~~

Long Live

They said remember this moment.

Daisy’s hands shook as she took a seat on her bunk. Next to her sat a box of memories — disposable camera photos from throughout the years, her very first badge, letters from Jemma, May, and Coulson. The few trinkets that she saved when all went to hell (she couldn’t quite remember which ones came from between which disasters, though). A mixtape CD from Jemma titled ‘Space Jams’.

She smiled, sorting through the box. There wasn’t any one thing she was looking for, not really. What she was searching for, she wouldn’t find in the box.

You held your head like a hero.

Newspaper clippings surrounded her, scattered around the floor like confetti. The pictures were clipped to the wall with string and clothespins — Coulson posing with his Captain America baseball cap and May making her ‘mom’ face; Daisy and Jemma napping on the floor after a mission; Hunter standing on Bobbi’s shoulders and Daisy on Mack’s, racing to screw in lightbulbs on a maintenance day; Daisy, Fitz, and Jemma hanging upside down from their beds during their time on the bus.

She watched the clouds pass by the window, stretching farther than she could fathom. The sky was dusted with stars. She could almost pick out the distorted shapes of her own constellations, even as they stretched further and further out of familiarity. May used to watch the stars while flying. She could remember the first time May let her sit with her in the cockpit.

Long live the walls we crashed through.

Daisy flopped onto her bed, exhausted. It had taken two showers to get all the alien goo out of her hair, and Kora was still working on washing the dust from their suits. Daniel had run comms for this one.

The strange, adrenaline rush she got during a fight had faded, leaving her limbs feeling like jelly and her mind filled with static. Daisy glanced at her nightstand. There was a picture of the team, posing in the lab at the Playground. May and Coulson’s arms were around her. She missed her family.

There was a time when she lived in a van with her computers, a hot plate and a hula girl. She held the small figurine, watching her wobble as the Zephyr 3 took off. She used to tell herself that she liked being alone, but now she felt like she couldn’t bear to be without them. She had spent so much time in her room at first, avoiding the rest of them. They opened up the door. They crashed into her life and she crashed into theirs and, for some reason, she felt like she should have known they would never be the same.

Please take a moment, promise me this.

It was part of her job to be silent. To stay hidden. To protect from the shadows. She wouldn’t trade it for anything.

But she did hate how difficult it was to get in touch.

Kora tapped her shoulder from her place in the co-pilot’s seat. "It’s almost time."

Daisy nodded and swallowed hard. Daniel squeezed her shoulder and took her place in the cockpit. She made her way back to her bunk, pressing the cool metal device to her temple and watching the scene materialize in front of her.

"Seems we’re early."

Daisy smiled, wishing she could get up and knock May over with the tightest hug in any timeline.

"Seems so."

"Starting the party without me?" Coulson appeared.

"It’s not a party if you aren’t here," She grinned. "I know we’re supposed to wait for everyone else, but how are you? Tell me everything."

May shrugged at Coulson in a gesture of ‘I’m not going first.’

"Things are good. I’ve got a flying car. Costa Rica is beautiful," He summarised. "I miss my kid."

Daisy felt tears well up. Damn it, she was not going to cry this early.

"Send me a postcard," She joked. "What about you, May?"

"Students are exhausting. I hate grading papers," She grumbled. "The coffee isn’t as good as the kind you used to buy."

"C’mon, there’s nothing good going on?" Coulson asked.

May gave Coulson a hard stare. "I’m not in space. Or a computed reality."

He chuckled. "At least there’s that."

The others came in soon enough, and the room seemed to shift. They were all good. They all promised they’d do this again soon. Daisy and Coulson were the last ones, after everyone else left.

"[insert their dialogue from finale],"

"I hate that this is all we get," She whispered. "We beat fate before."

Coulson went to grab her hand, then paused. They both knew she wouldn’t feel anything.

"I think," He said carefully, "We won’t ever really say goodbye. We’ve fought too hard together to be forced apart."

Daisy nodded. "Hey, AC…" She trailed off.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to know that you gave me everything. A home. I had the time of my life with our team," She let out a shaky breath. "I won’t let anyone forget you, even if you decide it’s time," Daisy choked out. "You’re family."

Coulson smiled sadly. "Stay safe out there."

She disconnected, the empty room replaced by the cluttered walls of her bunk. Her books, photos, letters all stared warmly back at her.

"They’re good," She murmured. "We’re good."

We will be remembered.

~~~~

#daisy johnson #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #aos #phil coulson #melinda may #philindaisy #speak now challenge

[cannibalovers]

Hannibal song of the day: song no. 13

a bit about the song:

"The Lovers" (2017) is a song by Nine Inch Nails, appearing in the EP "Add Violence". It was written by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, two members of the group. It has a very anxious, almost threatening, but calming sound to it due to the amount of reverb, deep electronic bass, Trent's muffled vocals, and the instrumental which features a sound manipulator, "Luminist Garden", which is supposed to sound like finger-tapping to connote anxiety, inherent in addiciton. It fits alternative genres like alternative electronic rock and experimental. The lyrics of the song began as a poem by Trent, exploring the “inevitability of addiction and seduction” and a possible path his life could have taken if he didn't end up recovering from his drug addiction. The title can also tie to tarot, the 6th card in the major arcana being "The Lovers" - this card represents love, but also two oppositional forces coming together, in balance, as well as in a more personal light, becoming whole as an individual, coming to terms with ones flaws, strenghts, beliefs and accepting one's self. Overall, the songs meaning is about seduction and succumbing to what one shouldn't succumb to, feeling contempt and complete - whatever that may be.

i've never realised just how vulnerable and dark this song is, it took me a while to appreciate its beauty

i've had this song in my playlist since the beginning, not thinking that much of it until i finished the show, especially after the wrath of the lamb. looking back at the lyrics it reminds me of Will SO much its insane. the succumbing and the serenity the protagonist feels, GOD. in my eyes it describes Will's thoughts perfectly.

------------------------------

Verse 1

"I can hear you breathing I’ve slipped out of time again Leaving all of you behind And I’m free"

The protagonist is losing himself, succumbing to the drug. He is losing his sense of timeas it can often be with substances, leaving everything behind - most likely the reality, people who care for him and normality as he feels enlightened. He even personifies the drug or perhaps the feeling he's experiencing, as he can feel it breathing, growing. It all feels so empowering, yet disturbing.

The opening lines summarise what I personally believe went through Will's head as he layed his head on Hannibal's chest SO well. He can feel him breathing, they're finally so close, all the boundaries have been crossed, it feels so surreal. He left everything behind, his perfectly crafted life, his wife and kid, something he cared for so much, his life as a criminal profiler, everything before that, leaving all of his whole old life behind - He doesn't care anymore and has never felt more alive and free before this.

------------------------------

"To return to the place where I already am And have always been If I just really looked and allowed myself To see"

The protagonist realises that he has been repressing and ignoring what he now believes is his true purpose, he now believes that this state and feeling are what he was born for, what he was made for. He feels like he's on the "right path" once again.

Will has also been repressing and ignoring. He recognizes his ferocious nature and didn't want to accept it - Yet Hannibal did everything he could to drive him to it, to kill, do what he was made for. They caused so much destruction together around themselves. That's why he separated himself from Hannibal in the first place - they were perfect and the worst for each other simultaneously.

But season 3, the longing for Hannibal has never left him, it only was easier to ignore now that Hannibal was out of the picture - but just one visit, just one look was all it took to change his mind, exactly what Will was afraid of when coming back. He has returned and started to regret leaving, again. He knew that his true purpose was with Hannibal and that he wanted to be with him, he has always been there, longing for it. He couldn't ignore it again. Finally, murdering Dolarhyde together with Hannibal has made him see it and accept it, finally allowing himself to see what Hannibal was trying to show him all these years. No hiding anymore.

------------------------------

"The confusion is seducing me warm perfect flowing Wide his eyes Summer Hypnotize they see inside of me Hot swollen skin want me take me perfect embrace Black and bloody Rotten and perfect The center has moved on and all that’s left is free Finally Finally Everyone seems to be asleep but me"

These lines are supposed to represent the setting of the song itself - New Orleans, hot summer, the protagonist describing his current state; eyes blown, hypnotised, seen, accepted, sick, rotten. So horrible yet perfect, it felt so right. A paradox. The "everyone seem to be asleep but me" line is also a reoccuring imagery in the "Not The Actual Events" EP and the rest of the "Add Violence" EP, with "I can't seem to wake up" lyrics in "Not Anymore". The repeating theme in my eyes talks about the blindness and subconsciously ignoring a feeling, maybe even an intuition, a bewildered state of mind. The protagonist seems to go between feeling like they are alive and the only one seeing the reality amongst all the blinded people and like they can't wake up, realising something is wrong but cannot pinpoint what is it. Here, they feel on top of the world, like they have gone through an awakening and are the only ones to realise just how free they can be and now, are. The center could refer to stability and morals, now moving on, lost and thrown away.

This summarises the show perfectly, especially Will's side as he now realises and accepts how beautiful this all is, monstrous, sickening, but so very beautiful. A paradox that he is finally willing to accept as it is and relish. The confusion he feels, comforting instead of frightening now,

This sounds like Will's point of view of the whole thing so accurately it drives me INSANE. The confusion he feels, unusually comforting instead of frightening. Catching Hannibal's eyes, so hypnotising and warm as he tries to hold himself up and stagger to him, Hannibal's touch burning his skin so delectably. Finally, he achieved content. The feeling he has been longing to experience for his whole life.

------------------------------

Chorus

"Take me Into the arms of the lovers Free Take me Into the arms of the lovers"

the progatonist is finally accepting what he now sees as something that cares for him, accepts him for who he is and makes him feel satisfied and at peace, an equivalent of a lover. The embrace representing acceptance and the two opposite forces coming together, back to the possible interpretation from the tarot card "The Lovers".

just Will wanting to cuddle and hug, cmon. but also indeed the embrace both showed his acceptance of Hannibal and himself, as well as accepting how safe and accepted Hannibal made him feel, how content he feels now that he has accepted his nature thanks to Hannibal.

------------------------------

Verse 2

"Oh I see you floating there How could I ever hope to forget Always rearranging, this is Those words are a lie a mirror reflecting in a mirror of a lie A light shines still always Shadows in every wordBeneath black eaves Please don’t leave me here I could stop it Maybe I could stop it (if I wanted to)But I’m not the one driving anymore I know who I am But I know who I am Right?(Please don't leave me here with them)"

The last verse is very desperate, again admitting to ignoring their past, trying to grow and move away from the addiction but not being able to. Everything felt like a lie, but the truth always comes out - the protagonist loses control to what has been tempting him, realising it yet still trying to convince himself that he is himself, he is his own he let this happen because he wanted it to. The protagonist seems to be constatly on the hunt for connection, anything, anywhere where he won't feel alone. Maybe that's why they succumbed.

For Will, this reminds me of the lingering effect that Hannibal had on him. How could he ever forget what Hannibal did to him, how he changed him? Even he himself said that his life splits into two chapters; "Before you, and after you". Hannibal always haunted him and he couldn't escape him - not like Hannibal would let him. He always found a way to get to Will. But now, Will accepts it, even wants it. He realises just how lonely and dreadful life was without Hannibal, even if he chose to walk away. After all, how do you recover from cutting off someone who has made you feel so accepted and known?

Hannibal's manipulations and acts to try and win Will's heart has made Will feel at a loss of control, constantly messing with Will's sense of identity in season 1, making him question who he is. He tried to regain control, what he made sense of, at least - leaving Hannibal, striving to achieve the normalicy and perfection that he always wanted as he thought that that's what would make him happy and normal, cure whatever he has been longing for, thinking it was just loneliness and a need for someone caring - but Hannibal showed him what it was exactly that he was missing - acceptance and understanding, even of his darkest and most flawed parts. This feeling and realisation he could never forget. He longed and longed, hoping that he could regain this kind of connection he has with Hannibal with someone else, but to no use. He was the only person that he couldn't hide himself from and be fully seen. I think in wrath of the lamb he finally accepted that, and after that, he would never want Hannibal to leave his side or to leave Hannibal, no matter how lost and confused he feels around him. Before the fight with Dolarhyde, Will says that he doesn't think he can save himself anymore, and that might be just fine. Instead of questioning the right and wrong once again, he listens lets Hannibal lead, show him what he wanted to show all along to him instead of stopping him like he did before. Finally accepting what everyone else would see as his "downfall".

------------------------------

these two make me insane and unwell and this song combined with with them and me being unable to fucking express my views and thoughts cohesively drives me even more insane.

anyway thank u, hope u enjoyed<3

------------------------------

additional notes:

the pun in the last sentence of v2 was actually not intended i didn't realise that LMAOOOO

ffs i reedited this for like 50 minutes straight and tumblr went oopsies smth went wrong couldnt save. i left it in drafts for a few says thinking maybe i will find motivation and will to reedit it but all i feel is irritability and the urge to delete the post so yall getting the unchecked version sorry WHY ARE U SO DIFFICULT TUMBLR

my playlist post

#Spotify #hannibal song of the day #hannibal sotd #nine inch nails #i love them too much #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #music #rock music #alternative rock #alternative metal #experimental music #industrial rock #rock #alt metal #progressive metal #hannibal meta #song analysis #hannibal analysis #rumaiq rambles #my post

[storiesofsvu]

Heavy Hearts Ch 11

Casey Novak x reader warnings: language, hurt, let's just say angst, creepy/toxic brock, manipulation, mentions of sex, alcohol consumption,

10:18pm:

‘Case, I’m sorry to do this like this but I can’t keep lying to you, or to myself. I haven’t been home in so long I forgot what it felt like. I forgot who I really am, and who I need to be. The fling we had was fun, but it’s over. I was scratching an itch, experimenting with a lifestyle my family wouldn’t support and I can’t do that anymore. I need to be with someone who I can see myself spending my life with. I hope you understand.’

Casey felt her breath catch in her throat as she read through the words of your first message. It almost didn’t sink in, she had to read it twice to fully understand what you were saying and even then it didn’t make any sense. Part of her felt like it was coerced, that your family was forcing you into sending it, that it couldn’t be true and there was no reason for her heart to start racing in her chest.

Then she scrolled down to the next message.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier, truth is I’ve been thinking about it since that night my friends were in town. I just didn’t have the courage to tell you in person and wanted to give you a few good days of summer vacation. We had a good run, and I hope you find someone out there that really makes you happy cause it can’t be me. Goodbye Casey.’

She felt like the room was spinning, her vision blurring with tears as she read through your words over once more, a shuddering breath escaping her lips as her hand moved to cover her mouth. It couldn’t be real, this had to be some sort of nightmare, one she would wake up from in an instant. But it wasn’t, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the dread that was suddenly drowning her. She felt like she couldn’t breath, unable to get enough oxygen into her lungs, her breathing became more and more erratic as she dropped against the wall behind her, slowly sinking down it. She tasted something salty, confused as to why her face felt wet, as if she was drowning from the inside out and then she realized she was crying.

Tears cascaded over her cheeks as she convulsed into a series of sobs, burying her head in her hands and her phone clattered to the floor, your stinging words glaring up at her from the screen. She didn’t understand, you were the love of her life, the one that she had wanted to spend the rest of her life with and you knew that. You’d taken her heart, one that had once been full of nothing but love and shattered it into a million little jagged pieces. Her body shook as she cried, hiccupping as it got harder to breathe between the sobs and she felt a swirling pit in her stomach, bile building up in her throat and she realized she was going to be sick.

Racing to the bathroom, she barely made it to the toilet in time to heave up last nights dinner, puking until there was nothing left in her stomach to give, the dry heaves bringing up a few drops of stomach acid. The cool tile of the bathroom floor was the only thing grounding her to reality, that this was actually happening, that it was real. The vision of her future had been clear of day in her mind, she used to be able to picture it, the house, the dog, the career, all with you by her side. The picture started to blur at first and then it began to drift away completely, leaving her feeling emptier than she ever could have imagined. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted it if it wasn’t with you.

It wasn’t until shortly after lunch that she managed to drag herself back down the stairs, still in the same outfit from her morning run.

“Was beginning to think you fell back asleep up there.” Her dad teased, his back to her as he stood at the kitchen counter. “I’m making tuna melts, you want one?”

“No.” Her voice was hollow, her throat hoarse from crying what felt like hours, “do you still have that bourbon?”

That caught her parent’s attention, both turning from where they stood in the room to look up at her, taking in her red puffy eyes, the emptiness deep within them.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Grace asked, “is y/n okay?”

“She broke up with me….” Casey dropped her phone onto the table, the screen open to the conversation, “through a fucking text.” Her voice was shaky, she swallowed in an attempt to keep any more tears at bay.

“Oh kiddo…” Ben moved from the counter, wrapping an arm around her in a tight hug, “I’m so sorry.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Grace had picked up her phone, reading the messages, glancing up at Casey when she spoke.

“These texts… it’s like she was almost living two separate lives.”

“I think she might’ve been.” Casey replied with a sniffle, dropping down into the chair, gratefully accepting the bourbon Ben quickly put down in front of her, “I think she might have been cheating on me…”

“Why?” Her mom asked and she sighed, wiping away a stray tear.

“That night she mentions in the text, she went out with her Washington friends, I stayed home to study. I didn’t hear from her all night and she didn’t come home until the next morning, late. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, I mean… I wasn’t impressed but I never pushed it.” She took a shaky breath, “but she’s always weird when she talks about those friends. Like there’s something she doesn’t want me to know.”

“You might be thinking too far into this pumpkin.” Her dad squeezed her shoulder, “she said herself she doesn’t really like her family or talking about them. It could be the same for friends from there.”

“When I tried to call her this morning some guy named Brock answered her phone and he definitely made it sound like they slept together.”

“Did you talk to her at all?”

“No, she was still sleeping.” Casey took a sip of the alcohol, nearly wincing as it sunk down her throat, “I just… I dunno what to do now?” Her breath shook as a few tears slipped down her cheeks and her mom moved around the table to the chair beside her, tucking her into the crook of her shoulder.

“Oh Casey… it’ll be okay.” She kissed the top of her head, “I know it feels like the end of the world right now but it will pass. Start with this,” she gestured to the glass, “help numb what you’re feeling right now. Then you’ll get over it, you’ll hold your head high, have an incredible summer, go back to school, become the bad ass lawyer we all know you can be. And eventually, you’ll find someone who is worthy of your love.”

For now, that was all Casey could do. She had to create her new future.

One that didn’t include you.

**

Somehow Larissa’s hangover remedy tray had managed to get you back to feeling somewhat like a human being by the time you had to leave for dinner. Your brain was still pretty foggy, exhaustion dragging you down as you continued to try and fail to remember the previous night. You’d hoped that maybe being around some of the same people in the same place would spark the memories to come back once you got to the country club. So you got dressed, put on light make up, curled your hair, pinning a couple pieces back off your face and made yourself presentable and prayed for the best.

Arriving at the country club your parents were quick to find the Lexington’s, exchanging pleasantries and greetings, Mrs. Lexington, Eleanor, pulled you in for a quick hug and kisses on both cheeks, a wide smile on her face.

“Oh it is just so good to see you again sweetheart.” She squeezed a little tighter at you, “and you look lovely as always.”

“Thank you Mrs. Lexington.” You replied, a tight smile on your face.

“Oh, Brock’s over in the lounge, he’s got your phone. You must’ve dropped it in the car last night.”

“Oh thank god.” You felt relief wash through you, at least it wasn’t gone forever, “thank you.”

“Well, go on.” She nudged at you with a grin, “and make sure he buys you a drink!”

With a somewhat awkward laugh you gave her a nod, quickly heading around the corner to the lounge, spotting Brock up at the bar half chatting with the bartender while he sucked back a beer. He locked eyes with you and his lips split into a wide grin, a gleam in his eyes.

“Well would you look at you.” He greeted, his arm wrapping around you as he pulled you to him and you managed to evade the kiss he was going for, his lips landing on your cheek, “fucking stunning.”

“Uh, thanks.” You slipped out of his grasp, leaning up against the bar, as he flagged down a bartender to order you a drink “you have my phone?”

“Oh yeah.” He reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling it out and handing it to you, “sorry it’s dead. My spare charger is pretty finicky.”

“It’s fine.” You dumped it into your purse, “I’m just glad I found it.”

“Well, it’s not all you left in my car.” With a smirk he leant in, his voice lowering when he spoke against your ear, “but I figured you didn’t want me giving you your panties back in front of our parents.”

“Ew Brock!” You swatted at his chest as he laughed, “what the fuck? Why would you have those? Creep.” His head tilted, the grin falling from his lips as he stalled with his beer halfway to his mouth.

“Do you really not remember?”

“No.” You huffed, ducking your gaze as you felt the shame begin to wash over you again, “I barely remember leaving, but… thanks for driving me home, I guess?”

“Damn darlin’.” He took a swig of his beer, “I was good. Guess that’s an excuse to do it again.”

“Do what?” You nearly whined, your voice softening to just above a whisper, “Brock, please. Just tell me what happened so I don’t have to feel like I’m missing half my night any longer.”

“You’re cute when you pout, you know that?” He chuckled, his thumb coming up to trace the line of your lower lip and if you’d had more energy you would’ve shoved him off you. He took another swig of his drink, sliding yours toward you and you took a sip of it. “Well, I saw you were on your way out alone and I didn’t think that was a great idea so I said I’d drive you home. You were pretty far gone so we rolled the windows down, drove around for a while, let you get some air. It seemed to help, thought you were more clear headed, we stopped in that park you liked so much as a kid.” He paused, his eyes dragging down and up your body with a smarmy grin on his lips, “and then we certainly had ourselves some fun.” He placed his beer down on the bar, his hand moving to your hip, pulling you closer to him so he wouldn’t be overheard, “you know, I had been dreaming of kissing those pretty lips for years and it did not disappoint. And who knew you were so flexible.” He chuckled, “sorry about the dress, I can replace it if you want.”

You were too busy trying to process what he was saying, trying your hardest to remember any of this from the night prior to notice what he was doing. You barely had time to feel his hand on your cheek before his lips were on yours and while it didn’t bring back any memories, there was something familiar about it and now with him so close you could smell the scent of cigarettes masked by his cologne. You pushed back on his shoulder, leaning away from him,

“What are you doing? Brock how many times do I have to tell you I have a girlfriend.”

He let out a huff of a laugh, “if you do, you’ve certainly got some explaining to do. Don’t think she’s gonna be happy with you cheating on her. But hey,” he pinched at your waist, “I’m perfectly okay being your dirty little secret.”

You felt your stomach churning again as your heart started to race, instantly regretting letting yourself get to the point you were the night before. If you had just excused yourself an hour earlier, turned down the shots or that last drink he gave you, you wouldn’t be in this mess. You knew it was contradictory, but right now you needed a drink, reaching out to yours and practically downing it before you looked up at Brock, who still had a firm arm around your waist. Honestly, you were thankful for that because you were on wobbly legs again as the panic soared through your body, and he was close enough you could speak quietly enough no one would overhear.

“I’m sorry, are you saying that we had sex last night?” You asked and he let out a huff of a laugh, finishing his beer and ordering another one.

“Yeah. Twice.” He winked at you, thanking the bartender for the drink, “once in the car and once in the park. And you were a very eager participant, I didn’t even have to ask and you were sucking me off. And that,” he tapped the tip of your nose, “means you’re a keeper in my books. How’s your knee by the way, you landed on a rock at one point.”

“Oh my god…” You ran your hand over your face, your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest as the tears welled up in your eyes and your temperature skyrocketed, “Casey… fuck. I.. I can’t do this. I need to go—” You started to turn away from the bar, not even sure what your plan was when Brock grasped at your shoulders, turning you back to him and he squeezed softly.

“Hey, hey. Calm down sweetheart.” The touch of his hands was somehow keeping you on earth, “just breathe okay? It’s like you’re living in two separate worlds. Just happens that I’m the lucky guy who gets to be with you in this one. Casey doesn’t need to know anything about this, I’m certainly not going to tell her and if I had to guess your parents don’t even acknowledge her much less talk to her, so how would ever she find out?”

“But..”

“Haven’t you ever had a summer fling before?” He laughed, squeezing at your shoulders again before dropping his hands, picking up his beer, “you go back to Massachusetts in the fall like nothing happened. Now c’mon,” his arm tightly wrapped around your waist again, “we need to get to the dining room or our parents are gonna think we snuck off to a private room together.” He glanced down at you with a smirk, “unless you wanted to?”

“Ew!” You smacked his chest again, “it happened once, it will not happen again. You’re disgusting Brock.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

He laughed darkly, waiting for you to pick up your drink before the two of you made your way over to the dining room to find your parent’s table. Unsurprisingly they’d left the two open seats right next to each other, Brock making a show of pulling out your chair for you like he was some kind of perfect gentleman. You let out a small sigh settling into your seat as you looked at the pre picked menu for dinner, it at least looked like it would be good, a saving grace to this terrible day.

Throughout dinner Brock’s hand continually found its way to your thigh, resting there, thumb stroking across your skin, squeezing softly as he chatted back and fourth with your father. Every time it did you would subtly move it, crossing your legs away from him but it always found its way back. You were thankful that you were able to just sit and eat, not being asked much, the conversation was being led by the men at the table. Brock was gearing to a federal political career, asking your father’s advice on it, he’d already secured the business degree and had started his journey in local politics. You had to hold back your eye rolls as they talked about policy, procedure and their opinions on various things, Brock’s hand often returning to your body. Sometimes it was your thigh, sometimes it was the back of your neck, others your hand on the table top, much to the excitement of both sets of your parents.

You were halfway through dessert when Elanor repeated her question and you finally heard her, glancing up from your plate.

“Sorry?”

“Are you finishing your law degree?” She asked with a gentle smile.

“That’s the plan.”

“And how about after that? Are you finally going to come settle back here? Kids?”

“I.. uh.. don’t know.” You felt as if your brain was about to overload, all you wanted was to be home, away from this absolute mess.

“Well for what it’s worth I do think you and Brock would make the cutest babies. I mean the two of you already look so wonderful together, you’d be such a picture perfect family.”

“Mom.” Brock chuckled, “you’re coming on a little strong, don’t ya think?” He squeezed at your thigh and you felt your gut churning again.

“I’m just saying, you better not mess this up.” She practically scolded, “you finally got yourself a good one.”

You took a heavy breath, trying to calm yourself down over the entire thing. You didn’t remember what happened last night but you knew there was no way in hell that you belonged to Brock now, you still had a girlfriend, one that you prayed would either never find out about what happened or forgive you for it. Luckily, the cheque came around shortly after, your parents taking care of it and the five of you were finally able to make your way out of the country club. Brock’s hand closed around your wrist on the front steps once your parents had gotten into the cars,

“What? I don’t get a good night kiss?” He asked with a smug grin and you rolled your eyes, keeping the fake smile on your face for appearances.

“Do you seriously not understand that I don’t like you?”

“But we had such a good time last night.” He grinned, reaching out to squeeze at your hand, “hey, I got you home safe, didn’t I? I was just worried about what some douche valet or driver might think about doing to you.”

“Fine.” You huffed, “thank you.”

“And?” Smiling, Brock’s hand came up to your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheek.

“If it’ll make you shut the fuck up, fine, you can kiss me.”

“I’ll take it.” He chuckled, “remember, this is your DC life, completely separate… different universe.” He leant down, lips meeting yours and you did your best not to instantly shove him away, thankful that it was brief and he squeezed at your hand once more before you were able to dart off to the car, the entire thing a show for your parents.

You were exhausted, mentally, physically, in every way you could imagine. At the very least you were keeping down the food from dinner, though the couple of cocktails were probably helping your body after overindulging last night. Once you were home you very quickly said goodnight to your parents and darted up the stairs to your room, your first task plugging in your phone. Your second was tugging the dress of you to toss in the laundry, you could still feel Brock’s hands on you and it honestly made you feel sick. Your only thought to get rid of the sensation was to shower, spending probably far too long under the steaming stream until you’d tried to forget what happened the previous night.

Finally you dried yourself off and wrapped up in the coziest pyjamas as you wandered back into your bedroom. You glanced toward your phone as you dropped onto your bed and realized it was finally charged, with a bright smile you grabbed it, swiping through the couple of notifications, you had a missed call from Casey, and a voicemail. You felt your heart leap in your chest, you’d missed her voice so much you quickly clicked on it, raising the phone to your ear.

“Hi. It’s me. Uhm… to be completely honest… I’m not even really sure what to say. I…. don’t know what I even want to say to you right now. I mean, I’ve been at a loss for words around you plenty of times before, but not for reasons like this. It was always out of how much I loved you, never about the amount of hurt you’ve caused. but.. now… god the amount of disgust I have for you, how could you even do this? I cannot believe you would string me along the way you did, nearly two years that what? Meant nothing? One week back in your old life, back in DC and you’ve gone off with him? You’ve completely forgotten about me? About the plans for the future? You’re cruel. And you don’t even have the decency to do it in person? Wow. I’m done. I’m absolutely fucking done and I want nothing to do with you. This will be the last you hear from me, respectfully, I’m blocking your number and I’d appreciate if you just stay out of my way next year. I feel so fucking stupid for ever letting myself love you. Goodbye y/n.”

The tears began pooling in your eyes as soon as you’d heard her voice, but they increased for an entirely different reason as the voicemail continued. You felt frozen, your blood running cold and suddenly there was another wave of nausea flowing through you as your heart jumped into your throat. Tears began rolling down your cheeks, this couldn’t be happening, Casey was supposed to be your future, your reason to wake up in the morning, your reason to live. Meanwhile she wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, you clicked on the message again, praying that you’d been imagining things, that she wasn’t ending things, but you were just met with the same hateful words and more sadness as you choked back a sob. Your chest felt tight, your breathing increasing to the point that you nearly felt dizzy, dropping to the floor as you started to cry. Casey had been the love of your life, you’d never been happier than when you were with her, the warmth of being in her arms was the safest you’d ever felt. You wanted to wake up to her beautiful face every day, you had plans for the future, you were supposed to be together.

But now that was all ruined.

You’d gone out and fucked it all up, or at least that’s what you thought. Somehow, she’d found out about it, there was no keeping secrets for too long after all. Your phone clattered to the floor, your sobs echoing through the room, sorrow aching you down to your bones. What were you supposed to do when the only person in the world you wanted to comfort you wanted nothing to do with you?

You cried yourself to sleep that night. And you knew it wouldn’t be the last time that happened. Deep down, you knew your life was ruined, it couldn’t possibly get any worse.

___________

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#casey novak #casey novak x reader #law and order svu #heavy hearts #law and order special victims unit #law and order #svu

[cinamun]

Hey fren! I have a ton of questions. Lmk if I’m being too intrusive or nosey lol.

I love your story, I always have to give you your flowers when I write you!! All hail the Queen 🙌🏾🙌🏾💐💐💐

Ok my questions:

For starting out posting and editing, do you keep a schedule for yourself to stay organized? Rn I’m finally posting on my simblr after 3 years but I find myself just constantly taking screenies instead of posting and organizing the story. It feels chaotic lol the only organizing I’ve done just for game play in general is shopping for CC every other day (it’s an addiction)

A question I wanted to ask for a while is, if you are commissioning someone for poses what are the average prices you pay (or better yet, what do you think a good price is to pay for pose commission)? Sometimes I have these perfect poses in my head and when I’ve searched for hours I normally just end up giving up.

Lastly, I noticed your post from yesterday said you had 25 photos loaded in photoshop. Do you have all the art board (or images) side by side to edit them consistently and simultaneously?

Thank you if you answer!!

Good morning bestie!! Let me just go on ahead and adjust this crown right quick lol THANK YOU and I got you!

I'm chaotic and impulsive but I have a little bit of a routine. Follow me under the cut!

Okay, SO!! For the first question about posting and editing.... I usually have an idea for the next scene while working on the previous one. So when I go in-game for story updates, the idea is already there and I'm just setting up shots and making the scenes look good. I don't have a schedule other than my posting schedule, so when you mention last night, I was editing pics that I had taken earlier in the day or the day before. So my schedule is usually sitting in photoshop all night the day before I post.

For pose commissions, I've only done that twice. I've had real good luck over the years finding poses or animations for anything I've needed. I would say make an offer to donate to them if you know their shit is dope and move anywhere between $5 to $10 USD. For the poses I commissioned, they weren't released publically so that's extra special (tip them more!). Also keep in mind if you're asking for accessories to be used, how many sims are in the pose, etc. For pose searching, try to be as vague as you can. "ts4 cleaning poses" and then see what comes up is one example and don't shy away from animations! They work with pose player, most without WW and can make for some great screenshots.

I load up all the pictures in Photoshop plus whatever templates I'm using (like the texting one or the dust overlays), and edit in order of sequence. This is where all the dialogue happens so sometimes I edit out of order if I know the dialogue for one scene already and maybe not the others. I hope i'm making sense lol. I spend a lot of time on this part because the words might change given which picture I've decided on (some scenes I take multiple screenshots of and multiple angles and then decide later which one to use). I go pic by pic, doing editing and adding dialogue individually then saving them, closing them and moving on to the next one. Once I'm completely done then I flip through them a few times as if I were the reader to try and catch any typos, etc.

This got really long but let me know if that helps or if I can elaborate more!!

#ts4 storytelling tips