#they’re always floating around in pretty dresses and it’s lovely | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gloomwitchwrites · 1 month

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By the Belt (3 of 4)

Mechanic John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: married couple, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Soap needs a distraction, and you’re going to give it to him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

It’s Sunday. John’s shop is closed on Sunday.

Even so, he’s always working on something, his hands unable to lean into idleness for a moment. They desire something to hold, to tinker and learn and explore.

It’s the late afternoon, and you stand in John’s personal garage located at the back of your shared property. His actual shop is nearby, just a mile or so down the road. This is sacred space. The place he goes to work on all sorts of personal projects. You are off to the right of him beside his knees. John is on his back, partially submerged beneath a lifted car.

That always makes you nervous, even though you know he’s careful about his safety. You always imagine the machine keeping the car aloft breaking, sending the vehicle down to crush him. The car itself is vintage, a special project that John has been working on for months. The paint is stripped and its mostly bare bones.

Beneath the car, you hear John sigh heavily. He rolls out from under the car, the wheels on the rolling bed squeaking as he does so. When he notices you standing there, he immediately grins.

“Hello, wife,” he croons, sitting up and draping his forearms over his bent knees.

“Hello, husband,” you reply, matching his tone. His smile widens and a warmth blooms in your cheeks. “Thought you could use a break.”

Grinning, he pushes up to standing, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of break?”

With boldness in your blood, you reach out and slide your fingers in the belt loops of his dirty jeans. John stumbles forward, nearly knocking into you. That grin briefly transforms into surprise before settling into a sultry smirk.

“Oh, aye. I could use a break.” He leans in, your mouths meeting in a lovingly gentle kiss that warms you right down to your toes. When he breaks apart, that lovely grin is back. “But I’d hate to dirty your pretty skin with my hands.”

You tug on his belt again, smiling. “What if I want to get dirty?”

John laughs, his stained, oiled fingers hovering just shy of your skin. “You sure, love? Because I can do that.” Your answer is a brief yank on his belt. John shakes his head. ��I warned you.”

You unthread your fingers and John makes a turn-around gesture. You comply, eagerness in your bones.

“Bend yourself over that table.” John points directly in front of you. It’s a workbench. There are a few tools but they’re off to the side, leaving the middle completely open.

Stepping up to it, you place your hands flat on the surface, bending forward, the angle forcing you up on your toes. John leaves you there. Lingering. Hanging. You have no idea if he’s watching you and enjoying the sight, or if he’s simply turned around and walked right out of the garage.

But you have your answer when John’s voice floats toward you.

“Lift up your dress,” he instructs, some rasp in his tone. He does not touch you, but you feel his presence. He’s close. You swear that you can feel his heat of the backs of your thighs as you reach back with both hands and lift your sundress up to your hips.

You are exposed to him. Utterly bare.

“Fuck. You dirty girl,” croons John, and you know exactly what he sees—or rather, what he doesn’t. “All bare under there. You knew what you were doing. Didn’t you?”

You did. You absolutely did.

Still, John does not touch. You hear the soft crinkle of his jeans as he goes down on his knees behind you, his warm breath brushing lightly against your pussy as he exhales.

“Spread for me a bit.” You shift your legs apart slightly. “Good,” he praises. “Like that.”

The moment you’re in position, John’s tongue parts your pussy with a slow stroke. He begins at your clit, moves upward, dipping the tip of his tongue into your sex before retreating. His hands rest on the table on either side of you, unmoving. Staying true to his word, John isn’t dirtying your pretty skin, but doesn’t mean he might not lose some control and touch you anyway.

Really, that’s what you want after all.

Using just his tongue, John traces circles, swirls up and down your sex, moves in languid motions that have you guessing. Every nerve is burning up like a sparkler. Your husband is teasing you, and fucking enjoying that he’s doing so.

He leaves nothing untouched, nothing untasted. Whimpering, John lightly kisses your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. It’s not nearly enough.

“Stay still,” he chuckles, when your hips buck with wanton irritation. “Let me finish my meal.”

John’s mouth promptly returns, and you know you’re done. Utterly done. Brain dead. Air rapidly leaving a balloon. He sucks on your clit, then penetrates you with his tongue, only to do it all again. With each, he sucks just a bit harder, bordering on painful pleasure.

The next one has you nearly coming off the table.

“I’m gonna fuck you after this, love,” groans John. “Bloody hell, you’re sweet.”

He dives in and your nails dig into the tabletop, your voice cracking as you orgasm. You feel his smile against your flesh before his mouth disappears from it, only to be replaced by the familiar sound of unzipping jeans.

The head of his cock presses at your entrance but doesn’t penetrate. John lightly guides the head back and forth through your slickness, the sound of it echoing loudly in the garage.”

“Will you be a good girl and take it?”

You nod enthusiastically, strands of your hair shifting to stick against the back of your neck. “Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

With a low moan, John starts to press in, your body not resisting, only wanting him inside. You both groan loudly as he bottoms out. Adjusting, John places his hands firmly above your head, anchoring himself.

He breathes deep, and reaches for your wrists, one at a time, trapping them against the table. John rolls his hips, thrusts lightly against you. It’s the perfect angle. You feel everything.

John increases the pace. Those light, almost shallow thrusts become languid and long, hitting deep when your bodies come together. From there, his thrusts turn sharp, a smacking pace that stings your flesh. You hardly care. John’s cock inside you is heaven, the thing just to ease the lust in your bones.

Every stroke is lovely, sending shivers of pleasure through your limbs. Your little moans become breathy exhales, your words leaving your lips silently, delivered only to the quietness of the air.

John’s head dips, his lips brushes over your exposed shoulder as he continues to thrust. “Gonna come inside you, love.”

It is not a question, and you will always say yes even if he asks.

His last few thrusts shake the table, the legs scaping against the concrete just before John holds his hips flush to yours. The groan as he finishes comes from deep within his throat. It’s a primal sound.

Glancing up, you watch as his grip on your wrists shift. He’s left some of that grease behind from working on the car on your skin. He said he wouldn’t mar it, but he couldn’t resist, and that feels like a victory.

John presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you tilt your head in his direction, seeking his gaze, even as he keeps himself inside you.

“Good break?” you murmur.

John chuckles. “Oh, aye.” He shrugs, nods toward your wrists. “But we need to get clean.”

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cherryjuiceblues · 1 year

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𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃

➯ Y/N AND HARRY GO TO A HALLOWEEN PARTY AND HARRY HAS THE PERFECT COSTUME. ✰ vampire!harry small warning for a minor encounter with some gross men. suggestive themes. 𝑤𝑐 4k

Halloween has always been disappointing for Y/N. Every year, the air gets colder and the leaves float down from their branches, and the shops start to stock spooky decorations and pumpkin spice candles. Warm orange and brown hues become the trendy colours and people finally snuggle down in their sweatshirts and jackets that they’ve had stuffed in their wardrobe all year.

It all sounds so perfect, and romantic, and every time October rolls around, Y/N thinks: this year will be better! She pictures herself watching scary movies every night, wrapped in her thickest blanket, with a warm drink and she gets giddy with excitement. And all the hype leading up to Halloween persuades her to stay optimistic. But then the day arrives and her best friend hosts the most amazing party, as always, and Y/N attends in her costume (which she is never completely satisfied with) and leaves inevitably underwhelmed.

Harry, on the other hand, loves Halloween. Well, maybe loves is an exaggeration but he never takes the freedom for granted when the day rolls around. Yet he never relents the rolling of his eyes and the pointing out of all the pathetic ‘vampires’—“We do not look like that,” he would grumble in Y/N’s ear, his mental script of complaints completely memorised in her head.

Of course, he’s never admitted that he doesn’t completely despise the holiday, but Y/N notices the way he ever so slightly lets his excitement show at the fact he doesn’t have to conceal his true self, even if it’s just for one night a year. So since meeting him, her disappointment has subsided; replaced with happiness for her boyfriend, and she’d never take that away.

However, currently, she is really dreading leaving their house, dressed in a costume that she knows is unoriginal. She thinks that’s the worst part of Halloween—the trying so hard to wear something new and cool whilst simultaneously maintaining the ability to blend it. It stresses Y/N out far too much for something that is supposed to be harmless fun. And it’s not like Drew Barrymore in Scream isn’t indisputably iconic, but has it been done too much? She’s staring at herself in the floor-length bedroom mirror, trying not to adjust her blonde wig for the umpteenth time and delaying the completion of the final part of her costume, just in case.

“Love? Are you nearly ready?” Harry pops his head around the door, catching Y/N’s frown before she can hide it. “Oh, you haven’t done the blood yet,” he walks over and stands behind her, brushing his lips along the shell of her ear. “Do you want my help? It’ll be undeniably realistic.” He catches her eyes in the mirror before making a dramatic noise and pretending to bite into her neck, shaking his head with exaggeration.

Y/N releases a stream of giggles and squirms in his grip. “Harry! Drew Barrymore wasn’t bitten by a vampire!” She’s smiling as he stops his relentless tickling and looks at her again, a shameless grin plastered on his face, fangs gleaming proudly.

“I know, but it made you smile,” he places a soft kiss on her neck and rests his chin on her shoulder, squeezing her waist. “Why’re you all pouty, hm?”

“I dunno, I’m just nervous about my costume,” she shrugs, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Do I look lame?” Harry lifts his head with a frown of his own.

“No lovie, never. Y’look so pretty, always,” he grabs at her fretting fingers, holding them in his warm palms. “Look at me,” he’s gentle in turning her around, away from the mirror that’s breaking her down. Pulling their joined hands up, Harry dots little pecks on as much of her skin as he can find, manoeuvring her palms open to continue his onslaught of affection.

“Harry—” she starts, watching him with big eyes.

“You look infinitely better than any of the morons that try to dress up like vampires. They’re lame. Your costume is unmistakable, yeah?” He looks at her expectantly, like he does when he wants her to show she’s listening. She nods, turning back around to see herself. “I mean, look at what I’m wearing. I’m not dressed up at all—bet that will really rile some people up,” he boasts, pride in his voice.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ve got a cape in my wardrobe somewhere,” Y/N teases, smiling at Harry’s sudden scowl. Immediately, his hands find her waist and he’s lifting her off the ground easily to turn her around in his arms, eliciting a squeal from Y/N as he trudges to the bathroom and places her on the counter.

“Don’t think I won’t bite you tonight. I’d get away with it,” he taunts, watching as Y/N’s eyes widen momentarily.

She gasps, “But that’s private, Harry! You don’t want anyone seeing me like that, I know you,” chancing her luck.

He only seems encouraged. “You shouldn’t have said that, love, now I’m tempted,” he smiles, pointed canines shining as his irises flood with red. “Come on, let’s get you all bloody,” he reaches for the bottle of fake blood sat next to Y/N. “Where do you want it?”

“Everywhere,” she grins.

ㅤ

Harry is right. His lack of costume does rile some people up… until he bares his teeth, and he’s met with ohh’s and what kind of vampire wears a sweater vest? Y/N thinks he looks perfect, because why would he dress any differently than normal? He was her Harry, in his flared trousers and sweater vests and chunky cardigans. She makes sure to tell him this as soon as the unimpressed crowd disperses. “Think all vampires should dress like you. You’re a fashion pioneer.” He looks down at her, an amused smile on his lips.

“A fashion pioneer? You’re cute,” he coos, as he gives her chin a little squeeze between his thumb. She begs to differ, right now, with the amount of fake blood that is caked in her sweater and up her neck, but she leans into his touch with a smile. “You want a drink?” he asks and she hums in reply, as he intertwines their fingers and walks them in the direction of the kitchen.

The atmosphere is electric, colour changing lights beating in time with the music that seems to be blaring from every corner, as they weave through bodies. Y/N catches a glimpse of the TV playing a horror movie in front of a sofa littered with people not paying it any attention. She’s hyper aware of the lack of recognisable faces, senses heightened with more anxiety than excitement. Harry squeezes her hand, noticing her wandering eyes, face not quite hiding her dazed expression. Her grip tightens in return, looking up at him with a small smile on her face.

“What do you want to drink?” Harry asks once they reach the kitchen, lifting her onto the island and moving to inspect the fridge’s contents.

She hums in brief thought, “Surprise me,” swinging her legs, gazing at her boyfriend’s back like it is the canvas Van Gogh painted The Starry Night on. Harry rolls his eyes at her unhelpful answer, and just pours a vodka lemonade.

“I’m sure you’ll be very surprised by this exotic beverage,” he drawls, handing her the cup and standing in between her legs with his hands on top of her thighs.

Y/N giggles as she takes a sip. “S’yummy though, thank you,” she says. “Gimme kiss.” Her lips form a pout as she tilts her head back expectantly. Harry pulls her to the edge of the counter, arms wrapping her up as he places a peck on her waiting mouth. She kisses back, attempting to suppress her smile and failing miserably. “Another one.”

“Manners, baby,” he teases, nudging her nose with his.

“Please,” she drags out, leaning forward, trying to catch his lips in hers but he doesn’t let her reach. “Harry,” she frowns. He relents and kisses her again as she relaxes in his grip.

“Y/N! You’re here!” The sound has the pair pulling away from each other abruptly, the shrill excitement coming from the lively woman bursting their bubble of contentment. Y/N smiles brightly at Sarah, in her Daphne costume, as she all but bounds up to the island in which she is perched. “And Harry, of course. It’s nice to see you too,” she teases.

“Sarah,” Harry nods, stepping away from his girlfriend’s body to allow her to jump down and greet Sarah as they always do; in a hug that would suggest they hadn’t seen each other in years. Y/N is careful to hold her glass away from Sarah’s back as she sways them from side to side.

“Do you mind if I steal her for a moment?” she asks Harry, arms not breaking the hug. Y/N’s back is facing him but she can almost hear his knowing smile, as if Sarah’s question had needn’t even been asked.

“I think I can allow that.”

“Will you be okay?” Y/N turns around to face him, a look of sincere worry on her face, aware that neither of them really know anyone at this party.

“I’m sure I’ll cope just fine, petal,” he reaches out his fingers to brush lightly against her cheek and she leans into him gently, eyes widening to take in as much as possible of the man in front of her.

“I’ll come back, promise.”

“Promise!” Sarah chimes in, “Promise, I’ll give her back.” She slips her hand into Y/N’s and softly pulls her along as they exit the kitchen. Just as they’re walking under the doorframe, Sarah leans over and whispers, “He’s so sweet to you.”

Y/N can only smile and reply, “I know,” picturing Harry leaning against the counter with a similar expression as he hears the words without even the slightest strain.

ㅤ

Sarah lets go of her hand once they’ve reached upstairs and stopped outside her bedroom door. They’re hardly settled on top of her bed until she’s asking, “So, what’s Harry come as then?”

Y/N smiles to herself, “He’s a vampire.”

“Vampires don’t dress like that,” she says, unconvinced.

“Says who?” Y/N shrugs, “They don’t exist, Sarah.”

“Yeah but—” she sighs, exasperated, “It’s Halloween! There’s nothing scary about a man in jeans and a sweater vest.”

Y/N hums, “I would argue that gives him the element of surprise, no? Looks unassuming so you barely give him a second thought, but then he opens his mouth to reveal rows and rows of razor sharp teeth,” her fingers prod into Sarah’s sides to elicit a squeal. “Pretty effective if you ask me.”

Sarah wiggles away and rolls her eyes, “Whatever. I’m just saying he isn’t winning any prizes for originality.”

Y/N cackles, “And you are?” she waves a hand at her great, but overdone, purple getup.

“Heyyyy,” she whines, swatting at Y/N, “let’s move on.”

ㅤ

About forty minutes and an undetermined number of drinks later, Sarah and Y/N are whirling in giggles, blathering nonsense so jumbled that no one else would even attempt to translate. They have long since caught up on each other’s lives since the last time they’d spoken (which, whilst they do text everyday, they don’t always dive into the details, leaving them with news to share when they finally find time to meet in person) and quickly delved into meaningless chatter which becomes less and less intelligible the more they drink, especially when Sarah remembers the bottle of wine she’s been keeping in her room for emergencies. (Y/N tries to argue that ‘no one keeps wine in their room for emergencies’ but soon ignores the peculiarity of it for the chance to have a nice swig from the bottle.)

They’re both lying on their backs on top of Sarah’s bed and it falls silent for a minute, the alcohol finally making them sleepy, and the lack of conversation to focus on, along with Y/N’s tipsy—bordering on drunk—state, is really making her miss Harry.

“I’m going to find H,” Y/N sits up slowly. Sarah has her eyes closed but she acknowledges her with a hum.

“I think I’ll call Mitch,” she yawns.

“Isn’t he downstairs?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna move,” she smiles sleepily, curling into her side and pressing further into her mattress. Y/N only giggles before nudging her phone closer to her idle hands. “I’ll see you before you go, yeah?”

“Of course you will,” Y/N assures, before getting up and shutting the door behind her. She takes the stairs slowly, aware that she is most definitely more drunk than tipsy and hoping that Harry is easy to find.

ㅤ

The crowds haven’t died down in the time that they’ve been upstairs and Y/N is reminded, as she is every year, that Sarah knows how to throw a really good party—which is unfortunate in this moment when Y/N can hardly see through the masses of people.

Deciding to go back to where she last saw Harry, Y/N heads towards the kitchen, blocking out her surroundings as much as possible in order to focus. She has a poor sense of settings when she’s sober, let alone drunk, so she really doesn’t see the footstool as she trips into it, hand shooting out to grab hold of anything that will keep her balanced. What she doesn’t equate for, is the thing she grabs onto being a complete stranger whose cup gets jolted by Y/N’s sudden movement, spilling the near entirety of it down his front.

“What the fuck?” The stranger startles, head whipping towards a very distressed Y/N who has her hands held up in surrender, apologies bubbling out.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She is merely met with a sneer, the faces of the rest of his group all matching his own expression as he tries to dry his arm off with a shake. Her cheeks are heated, heart thumping with embarrassment.

“Stupid bitch,” he spits. “Drunk girls like you should be more careful.” Y/N’s brows pinch, words slicing deeper than she’d like to admit; the half a dozen men in creepy costumes having their desired effect in making her uncomfortable.

“I—I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you—”

“No shit,” the man rolls his eyes and some of his friends smirk—stares patronising. “Now fuck off princess,” he pauses and Y/N can see his next words forming before he says them, “before I suggest you apologise some way else.” His friends all smile and Y/N feels her breath catch, foot stepping back and making its way to turn when her back collides with something.

She jolts her head to see and swears her bottom lip wobbles in relief when she finds it’s Harry, immediately melting into his chest as she feels his knuckle stroke her forearm softly.

“And what would you suggest, hm?” Harry asks in a seemingly unbothered tone, but Y/N can only imagine what his eyes are saying. She doesn’t have to imagine the look of regret on the man’s face at his sudden arrival.

He laughs awkwardly, “Ah, come on man, she knocked into me. Reckon you should keep an eye on her.” Y/N wishes she felt angry, but her emotions are frazzled from the alcohol and the way he’s talking about her is so mean and just plain sexist and she wants to leave. But before Y/N can turn around, Harry’s voice drops and he grits out:

“You’re a pig. Apologise to her,” and Y/N knows that voice—knows his pupils have widened and his jaw is clenched. She gasps slightly, surprised by his blatant public display.

The man stutters, face immediately apologetic, “I—I’m sorry,” he stammers, unblinking, but Harry isn’t impressed and he clears his throat, urging him to continue. “You’re not stupid, a—and I was in your way, if anything!” he laughs slightly but his face is void of humour, and Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, knowing they’ll look trapped.

“And you’ll treat women with nothing but the utmost respect, yes?” Harry pushes, fingers sliding down to Y/N’s own, telling her he’s nearly done.

“Yes! Yes, of course,” the man rushes out, head nodding maniacally, and Harry hums, seemingly satisfied before squeezing her hand and pulling them both away from the bemused group and their mesmerised friend. Y/N hears their instant jeers of what the fuck was that, you pussy? and that was weak, man—she’s heavily overwhelmed by the whole thing; Harry rarely displays that in front of her.

ㅤ

He guides her back upstairs but into the spare bedroom this time, before locking the door. Y/N lets go of his hand and immediately crawls onto the bed, flopping onto her stomach. Harry walks around the side and sits down, pulling one knee up onto the mattress. She’s frowning, bottom lip jutted out and eyes red.

“Are you okay, baby?” He brushes her wig away from her face, fingertips tracing the top of her ear.

“I’m drunk,” she blinks at him. “You did your scary vampire voice.”

He frowns, “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

“No silly, you came to my rescue. You always take care of me.” She feels her eyes well up, emotions overwhelming.

“Don’t cry, petal.” Harry cradles her face, leaning down to brush his lips against her cheek, and then his nose against hers. She rolls onto her back and pulls him on top of her with an ease that he makes available only for her. Fingertips digging into his back lets him know she wants his weight on her, as he drops his lower half down to meet hers and leans on his forearms that rest on either side of her head. A single tear escapes her eye and drips down onto the sheet before Harry has the chance to swipe it away with a thumb. She’s got a small smile on her face though, as she takes him in, pupils dilated.

“I love you.” She whispers. How could she not?

Harry’s heart nearly beats then; swear he feels it swell. He would never react any differently to those three words coming from her lips. “I love you too. Make me so happy, you know that?” He moves a hand to hold the top of her head. She nods softly, eyes closing as she feels him scratch lightly through the wig.

“Take it off.” she whispers as he gently pulls, the blonde bob coming away in his hand as Y/N lets out a sigh of relief that turns into a moan when Harry takes away the tie holding her hair in place and continues to massage her scalp. She leans her head into his hands, neck stretching out, and Harry leaves a kiss on his favourite spot. “Will you bite me, H?” His ministrations stutter slightly.

“I was only joking earlier, love.” He angles her head back up. “Look at me,” his voice is so soft it’s melting. She whines at the lack of movement in her hair but opens her eyes to meet his. The sincerity of his gaze would be intense if she didn’t know just how much he cared. “We’ve never done that outside of home before.”

“I know. Want you to. Please?” She knows Harry is questioning her ability to make rational decisions but she’s never been more sure of anything. “Makes me feel better. You make me feel better.” His eyebrows pinch slightly, before he’s dipping his head down to connect their lips. Y/N opens up immediately, making one of the little noises Harry has come to crave so much, pulling him into her—desperately clawing at his back. He pulls away with a quiet smacking sound; she tries to chase him and he can’t help the way his lips curve as he watches her blindly search for him. Her eyes blink open slowly, a faint frown on her face.

“Only a little bite,” his gaze hardens slightly, “okay?” pulling her bottom lip down with his thumb. She nods urgently and Harry can tell she’s one moment away from being unable to effectively communicate. So he complies, cupping her face and pressing a quick but ardent kiss to her mouth before trailing pecks across her cheek and down her jaw. Y/N can’t help but melt into the mattress, letting her brain switch off from any thought that isn’t about Harry and the way he feels against her skin. He is encompassing all of her senses entirely, just the way they both know she loves.

She keens when he nibbles her neck slightly—one hand cradling her jaw with the other one buried in her hair—angling her head the way he likes. When he kisses the spot he wants to mark and licks once, her breath catches in anticipation and he brushes his thumb across her cheek in understanding before sinking his teeth in; inexplicably grateful. Y/N twitches at the contact—much less than she used to when they first started doing this. Still, a fragmented moan gets caught in her throat as she feels his lips suction around the bite, feeding from her—although she feels she gains far more from this than he does, especially in this moment.

The floating feeling that Y/N knows she is safest in, that has slowly been creeping into her head ever since Harry found her downstairs, suddenly hits her full force when he groans into her neck—the weight of his body still comforting her endlessly. Her hands move from his back to grasp onto his hair which only makes him press into her further, heat swarming both of their bodies as they spur each other on.

But he pulls away entirely too soon, licking a fat stripe up her neck where a couple of drops have trickled and placing one last kiss over his tooth marks. Y/N whines, bucking her hips in a plea. Harry pulls away from her neck and she sees his red irises slowly ebb back to their viridescent hue.

“None of that, I told you it would only be a little bite.” He watches her pout, big watery eyes ready to beg. So he changes his tactic, leaning his mouth down to her ear before whispering, “Can’t take care of you properly here, don’t want you getting too worked up, yeah?” He smiles against the shell of her ear when she whines again. But he’s serious, looking at her again in her disheveled state. “And you’re drunk, my love,” but Y/N doesn’t want to hear it, too far gone to accept that he is right, as she tries to pull his head back down to hers. He doesn’t budge, hands firmly planted at either side of her head.

“Please, Harry, please,” her bottom lip wobbles; she hates it when he resists like that, not even letting her pretend she’s strong enough to shift him. “Please.” She feels her eyes well up at his furrowed brows. His thumb brushes across her own eyebrow and then under the eye that a tear escapes from, and he feels very reminiscent of about ten minutes prior. Only this time he can tell there’s something off; she is overwhelmed for a different reason.

“Are you feeling floaty, baby?” he asks, gently stroking her hair. And that’s all it takes for her face to scrunch up and her nodding to shake more tears down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” her voice is thick, “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, don’t apologise. Done nothing wrong, okay?” He kisses her tears away, and then he’s kneeling back, pulling her with him and onto his lap, guiding her legs to cross behind him. “You’re so good.” He tucks her head under his chin and Y/N feels herself melt into him immediately, ear pressed over his heart even though she knows it won’t beat. “Never apologise for feeling floaty.” She nods against his chest and he tightens his grip around her. “How about I take us home and run you a nice bath, yeah? Would you like that?”

Y/N immediately lifts her head up, glistening eyes hopeful. “Yes please,” she stares up at him, “Will you get in with me?”

“Of course I will, darlin’,” Harry traces her features slowly with his forefinger, smiling as her eyes flutter closed and she leans forward slightly. “And I’ll make you feel good in the morning, I promise.” Heat dances across her cheeks, fighting the urge to squirm in his lap—instead pouting her lips and waiting for him to comply. He does and it’s soft, delicate, the most gentle feeling in the world. A kiss to keep her perfectly blurry around the edges as she falls further into the luxury that is someone else’s control. “Let’s go say goodbye,” Harry says into her mouth, standing himself up and letting Y/N stay latched on as they make their way to bid their goodbyes and manoeuvre through the crowds.

ㅤ

She doesn’t bother to hide the bite mark.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #writing #vampire!harry #fanfic #imagine #blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #vampire #halloween #vamprry

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wrenramblings · 3 months

Text

girlhood

a poem about growing up under the patriarchy and how…weirdly saccharine and subtle it feels. for a while, anyway. thank you for reading I love you

Before he was a boy he was a child, but she had always been a girl.

She learned it like language, her side of the line— there was no linear study, no moment it clicked, no conscious separation of consonant and vowel.

Like language she was immersed and floating from her first inhale, from her first sound.

She hadn’t the words to describe it then: all stuff of life was hunger and satiation and pain, so yes let’s call it hunger.

They look at her and they are hungry.

For what, she doesn’t know but she is stronger than her cousins (boys, or more precisely, children) and that she knows well.

She has wrestled them to the ground and she has quelled their crying more times than she can count,

but in the world of pretend where she is free to fly if she dreams it, she assumes the role of the damsel without prompt.

Watches her cousins sword-fight from cardboard castle windows and to the grown-ups, those rough and rowdy children are small athletes,

but she is a girl, so when vintage dolls are excavated from the basement they are excavated for her, and to her own resentment she knows exactly how to play.

She plays differently when the grown-ups are around.

At her great-grandmother’s funeral, her cousins (boys, or more precisely, children) are dressed in suits unbecoming of youth and they sit in church quietly learning to grieve.

At her great-grandmother’s funeral, her mother teaches her that girls in dresses must cross their legs while sitting

and she says, they’re doing it! pointing to her cousins but mom says they are allowed to spread their legs because they are boys,

and people are always trying to get her to slow dance.

She does not want her grandfather to teach her how to slow dance,

not after he taught her cousins (boys, or more precisely, children) how to drive his little boat through the shimmering chop.

She rode in the back that day pink life vest sun beating down and waited her turn, for she is a girl and she has never been a child, so surely—

but her turn never comes,

she does not learn to drive a boat, she is not invited on the long hikes, she is not taught to play ping-pong, or foosball, or pool, she is not privy to conversations about sports and politics.

By the time she realizes there is a door, it is already closed.

Locks hands with a friend on the playground, innocent as spring, and a group of boys (or more precisely, children) tail her endlessly making smooching noises embarrassing her for a love she doesn’t feel,

and when she does fall in love, early schoolyard love, he tells her girls shouldn’t jump off rocks and she falls instantly out of it.

Sentiments repeated as she ages, do you have a boyfriend yet? such a pretty girl, just like the ones I dated in college— substantial though, not a small thing, are you?

Her cousins are asked polite questions about school and work.

She comes of age and what most strikes her is that there is no difference between girlhood and womanhood, no fucking difference at all—

gender, sexuality, etiquette, even the soft, tenuous topic of her young body:

they have been on the table from the very beginning, from her first inhale, from her first sound, exhibited like a rosy-hued feast.

They look at her and they are hungry.

She emerged one night, long ago, in pajamas so neon pink they burned with sunset-fire, and she was proud enough to hold her head high.

Her grandfather laughed and said, girl, they’ll see you coming from a mile away.

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pursuedbyamemoryy · 3 months

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Can I get a match up with a bg3 character if you're not to overwhelmed or busy ofc :)

(Also love your work holy crap!)

I'm a gender-fluid, around 5'7 with dark hair.

I love music and I always play as a bard class too! I'm a very chaotic neutral kind of person. I’m quite at the start but become wayyy more chaotic the closer I get with people. I have a really snarky/ jokingly mean personality 😭 (I’m mean to the ppl I love<3). I love reading, cooking and staying up late! I’m also goth! I love putting efforts into outfits and makeup. I’m also pretty stubborn and struggle to let people help/ do things for me.

LOL so sorry for the rambling! You 100% don’t need to write this if you don’t want to ofc!

author’s note : tysm for requesting, im glad you like my writing, it means a lot :,) i also really like doing these match ups they’re so fun!! ft. a picture of astarion from my own gameplay :p

i match you with… astarion!!

honestly, the second i read your request i just knew. it’s astarion. you two? chefs kiss, perfect match.

i feel like out of all the companions he’s the one who would match your personality the best. especially when you start to warm up to everyone and you ( lovingly ) make fun of them. he’s joining in, actually.

he’d do your hobbies with you, for sure. he isn’t as big of a reader as gale for example, but he won’t shy away from a good book every once in a while. i feel like he’s also and awful cook, i don’t know why. all i know is that you cannot trust this man in the kitchen by himself. if he really wants to, he’ll take the time to learn with you as you cook, and it can be an activity that you guys do together! and staying up late? it’s an every night thing for him, he’ll stay up with you until you guys inevitably fall asleep, preferably in each others arms, if you’re okay with it.

i feel like he’d also take an interest in your style, and he’d definitely be curious about it. he’d watch you do your makeup in passing glances, not making it obvious that he’s intrigued. i think he’s also interested in fashion, so he’d love to see all the different outfits you come up with and how you style everything. might even ask you to style him one day… maybe… dress him up perhaps… can vampires see absolutely nothing in the mirror, or do they see floating outfits?

astarion is someone who values one’s autonomy and independence, so if you struggle with letting people help you, he won’t push you. unless you REALLY need help with something and he can see that, he’ll step in. because he does care, he really does.

i feel like as long as you show that you love him and allow him the space and time to be vulnerable when he needs or wants to, you guys are set <3

#dawn’s valentines event 💌#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader

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eflen-n-reegee · 8 months

Text

Museum of Science and Industry Field Trip

Hi hi! My family decided to get a membership to MSI, so here’s a little self-insert fic! As usual, the reader is an age regressor and the author is their caregiver. All pictures were taken by me. Brief mentions of Pompeii are included, just FYI. Hope you enjoy! :)

Alright kiddo, are you ready for the museum? You’re right, it’s not the one we usually visit - we’re going to the science museum today!

Alright, careful on the escalator… And here we are! What do you think? Yeah, it is a little noisy today. Are you okay? Of course we can take a break, whenever you need to. Now, what would you like- Oh, you’re right! Let’s look over there!

How do you think they got so many airplanes up on the ceiling? It must have been tricky… Yeah, maybe a crane!

Can you read what that sign up there says? Good job, ‘Queen of Speed’. I guess this train is pretty fast. Not as fast as my kiddo… I know I’m being silly, but you CAN be pretty quick.

Which do you like better, the big trains or the little ones? I think the little trains are pretty cool. And these models show trains traveling all over the country - look, Chicago’s over here!

Before we go see the Pompeii exhibit, come over here. I want to show you something… I know, they’re pretty cute, aren’t they? No, sorry sweetheart, you can’t pet them. But we can look at them and watch them playing.

Now, we’re not going to go to the other part of the exhibit today. Because the other part is a little scary. Pompeii was a city that was destroyed by a volcano, and the other part has a little movie about the eruption. I know you’re a brave kid, but I really don’t think we should go see it today. Maybe when you’re older, alright? Oh, don’t pout, silly bug. We can still look around here and see what Pompeii was like before it was destroyed. What do you think of the statue?

The weather exhibit has a lot of fun stuff - look, it’s a little tornado! Now tell me, what do we do if there’s a REAL tornado? Go to the basement, exactly! You’re so smart.

Here, turn this little prism and look there… Yes, you made the rainbow move! Good job, sweetie.

Alright, when the Tesla coil turns on, it’s going to be very loud. Are you ready? Three, two… Wow! Isn’t that neat? Look at the lightning!

Oh, there’s the plane we saw downstairs! I didn’t notice the people inside before. Mannequins? Are you sure? Well, if that’s what you say, it must be true!

What cool clothes. A coat that can bark, a dress that lights up… Oh wow, look at these neat backpacks! I wonder if we could find one for you…

The Idea Factory is quiet today. Would you like to go inside for a few minutes? No, I think it’s okay. Come on. Look at all the cool machines!

Ooh, I think I like this the best. See, when you press the button all these cool little things go up and then float down - like a giant sensory bottle!

I love the I Spy hallway! In every display, there’s a list of things to find… Look, a mad scientist! Think we can find all the hidden things in the lab?

Wow, this is a pretty cool farm, huh? Look at all the cows! I’m going to see if I can take you to a real farm sometime. Cows are beautiful animals, and it’d be great to see a real one up close.

Oh, this is my favorite part of the whole museum - the Fairy Castle. Isn’t it amazing? It’s like a giant, magical dollhouse…

Can I tell you a secret, sweetheart? The castle makes me a little sad. Well, because it’s so big and so cool, and I wish I could take it home and keep it. You’re right, that wouldn’t be fair - so many other people love it too, and they’d be sad if they couldn’t look at it anymore. But that’s still how I feel, and it’s okay. It’s always okay to feel things, you just have to be careful about what you do.

Ooh, this is pretty neat. This pendulum shows how the Earth is always spinning! It always swings in the same direction, but because the Earth is moving, it looks like the pendulum is moving!

Alright, I think it’s time we head home. Did you have a fun day, sweetheart? That makes me happy.

#Eflen writes #Eflen field trips #agere museum of science and industry #age regression museum of science and industry #agere museum #age regression museum #agere field trip #age regression field trip #age regression imagine #age regression fic #sfw age regression #sfw agere #age regression #agere

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ikigaitsuki · 2 years

Text

ᥫ᭡ WE’RE ABOUT TO LOSE EACH OTHER AND I’M FRIGHTENED | y.ji

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Summary — On this field, filled with trees and dandelions and daisies, is a pair of lovers who’s hearts must part but their souls never will. Who will lose in love but not in life. Who are afraid to part but know — they will find one another again.

Pairing — jeongin x gn!reader (they’re wearing a dress but that’s as specific as it gets)

Genre — smut, angst

CW — unprotected sex, kinda public sex, cream pie, marking (hickeys), it’s actually pretty tame

WC — 1864

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Hands, fleeting. Ankles brushing over the newly grown dandelions, sending the pollen flying everywhere. It dances in a strange way – it looks rhythmic, intentional, but in reality, it is as lost as the individuals running between it. It will land wherever it chooses, and grow in that space, awaiting more star-crossed lovers to disrupt its roots.

In his hands, he holds another. The skin warm to the touch, with each ridge and line indented into his memory. He never wants to forget this touch for as long as he lives. And in his other hand, he carries a picnic basket. It’s filled with sandwiches with only a small selection of fillings. There’s biscuits and fruit because he couldn’t quite think of what to pack. He counts himself to be no cook.

The weight of the basket feels so heavy in his arms despite bearing no weight.

His heart feels heavy in his chest, and he swears that this is the first time he’s ever been able to feel such a thing. He doesn’t know whether he wants to throw up or cry. Maybe both.

“Jeongin,”

His family resides on the richest part of the city. With large houses and seemingly everything within their attainment, it feels like an entirely knew world to someone who has never experienced such a thing. Jeongin knows no different, because he was always raised like this. Jeongin knew no different. But he is still kind.

His farther works in technology. It’s a recently new development, so he makes even more money than the average person can imagine. He’s humble, despite it all – a kind man who seeks pleasure from interactions with any sort of person. He likes to help people. He likes to be the reason for change. Most of all, he is proud of the man that his son is growing to be.

His mother is slender and kind – he has her eyes. She’s a surgeon, so she works long hours and on occasion, looks very tired. Although, that is a rarity. She also is well put together. She perhaps is a little shyer than Jeongin’s father is. She may not be the first person you can hear in a room, but she will be the first person you lay eyes on. She is simply gorgeous, and Jeongin is a beautiful reflection of that.

“Jeongin,”

His father recently received a new job opportunity. One that required the family to move to a new country. It may well be the turning point of his career, although that it itself is highly commendable. He sat for a while in silence whilst he processed the news. Here, this is where he lives. But he’s never considered this place home. This merely is a steppingstone. Now that his father has fulfilled his time here, he believes it is time to move on to the next place, so he accepted the job offer.

Yang Jeongin’s house looks bare. It is bare, because he’s moving across the country in under a day and his entire life has been packed into boxes and suitcases.

“Jeongin,” he is removed from his daze, “You’re crying,”

He touches his cheeks, which perspire with heat. His fingers return to his line of sight, and they confirm your statement, “Ah. So I am.” His voice comes out near a choke. He’s embarrassed.

You see, Jeongin feels like a dandelion seed. He was finally settled his roots, he has finally begun to grow in this place he had learned to call home. He had finally found everything that he wanted. But then soil was disrupted and he feels lost. He is floating around.

He wants the Earth to swallow him up. His tears won’t stop. He looks into your eyes and sees stars. He sees the entire universe. He sees the sunrise and the sunset and he sees the interchange of the seasons. He feels you in his orbit; he feels you running through his veins.

And then he realises that he has to leave you, and he sobs.

You’re in love.

It’s naïve and silly and people would probably question why the son of such a successful couple would fall in love with someone so ordinary, someone, that, if you passed on the street, would hold no significance at all. Replaceable, that’s what they’d think.

But Jeongin doesn’t think so.

Even as your lip wobbles as you try to pour him a drink of pink lemonade that you bought from the nearest convenience store. You look so beautiful, even in sadness. Even when you clutched at one another’s skin, feeling nothing but desperation on the night that Jeongin told you the news that he was in fact leaving.

“Please don’t be sad,” you beg a little. The last thing you want to see is your lover like this. You can see how his heart is hurting. You want to take away that pain.

You realise that you’re crying too.

“I don’t want to let you go,”

“Then don’t. Hold me.” His skin on yours feels just right. The way his hands hold onto you, regardless of where they find themselves positioned. In every way, he is made for you.

It stays silent for a few moments. Your eyes are closed, and you’re taking in the noise – of the city below the high field, of the swishing of the trees and their long leaves in the wind; the cool breeze that ensues as the sun begins to make its disappearance. There isn’t so much time left.

“Jeongin,” his name falls so easily from your lips. It intoxicates the air around it. The boy looks at you with so much sorrow; looks at the dandelion seeds that blow with the gentle breeze, and realises it is much too late to wish for things to change. “Jeongin, make love to me,”

“Here?,”

“Here,” you kiss his tears, “Here on this land and let’s claim it as ours.”

He wastes no single moment, when your body falls into the grass and you feel like the soil yourself. You keep Jeongin rooted. Jeongin helps you grow.

Your sundress is made of a fabric which is soft to the touch. It’s light and easy to fiddle with, so Jeongin can keep dancing with your lips as he pulls it up. He’s not completely hard yet, so he takes his time to grind against you as you lay breathless beneath him. You’re aroused by your own desperation.

“Now,”

“Now.” Jeongin frees himself, carefully pushing aside your underwear before he fits inside you perfectly.

It feels at once as though everything and nothing matters at all. Not that the sun will set, nor rise again, not that the picnic is being discarded, not that Jeongin looks so pretty when he cries, and not that he thinks the same about you. But it also feels as though every second that passes is moving too quickly. It feels as though this is too much – that all of these things are in fact happening, and Jeongin and yourself will part, and your heart will not deal with it.

You clutch onto his biceps as his hips move slowly and rhythmically, something he’s become practiced in when it comes to you. And his eyes never once leave you. He’s grinning at you, but his tears do not cease. He’s moaning above you, but his cries sound pained.

You pull him down further, so that the angle in which he enters you feels deeper, and so his face is clearer to you. Must you not forget every mark on his face, every follicle in which a hair sprouts. His breath hits your neck as he speeds up, and his cries turn to grunts, and your wails turn to desperate utterances for more, to cum, to feel him and to be here.

His lips are soft – but then become harsh. He sucks against the flesh until you feel pain, and you know what he’s doing. You are his, after all. And though the marks he wishes to leave behind will not last forever, he knows that his intent will. He has ruined you for anyone who could ever come after him. This son of a businessman, this son of a surgeon, he lives such a blessed live that he has only cursed you with.

“I’m yours,” you cry out, when the pain becomes insufferable, and it blurs into pleasure.

He lifts his head so that his nose brushes yours, “Even after I’m gone, tell me I’ll be yours,”

“Forever.” you kiss, softly, and it burns. You can’t tire of his lips.

Love is a silly thing. It makes us feel such emotions, makes us become weak without realising, makes our hearts beat faster until they are ripped out before us. You will not stop loving Jeongin once he’s gone, and neither will you forget him. You will wait, and live this ordinary life, and hope that he doesn’t meet someone new once he settles in elsewhere, somewhere in a place you can only imagine, and you hope that he’ll return and tell you that there wasn’t and will never be anyone other than you.

He pulls your sundress up further, and pulls himself upward so that he can gain a better view of himself entering you. Not much longer, and he will topple over the edge. The view of this, and of your cheeks stained with tears, and of your pupils enlarged as you look at him with absolute adoration – this will be enough.

“I’m going to cum,” you whisper.

He says, “Me too.”

And he interlocks his fingers with yours, feeling the blades of grass that slip between and that comfort you. His hips stagger a few more times, and your mouths are open, breathless and panting into one another’s. Jeongin closes his eyes and sees stars. You close your eyes and see the moon.

This is how it’s meant to be.

Not with Jeongin’s family finding success elsewhere, not with the fear of being forgotten.

You’re supposed to be here, let Jeongin roam your skin and let your fingers taint his body so that anyone who wishes to touch him only feels you.

This is how it’s meant to be.

“I’m frightened,” you admit. You grasp both sides of his face, just where his jawline is, “We’re about to lose each other, and I’m frightened,”

“I know,” he kisses your shoulder blade as he slowly pulls out because he doesn’t want to cry again, leaking his essence from you, “But stay here, alright? Stay here, for me.”

You hold him, because that’s all you can do. In this field where there are trees and flowers and animals and the disregarded picnic blanket, where an onlooker might find it all insignificant but to you it is the entire world, you sob. Because that’s all you can do. And that’s all that he can do, because he needs to go soon.

“Stay here,” he whispers, his voice wobbling, “Stay here, and let me find you.”

It’s quiet, aside from your cries.

“Stay here. And if years pass, I will find you. Let’s find each other, and we can learn how to love again.”

#jeongin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz drabbles #skz jeongin smut #skz jeongin

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poltergeist-coffee · 6 months

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Kidnapping²

Tubbo can't be stopped

Yeah, TMA looks cool, I have no idea if what the entities are but it sounds cool as hell

Philza really looked at us and asked "is anybody gonna give them depression?" And didn't wait for an answer

But yeah, Cellbit probably just wanted to help to decorate spawn, you guys don't that for Halloween?We don't have Halloween on Brazil, we don't know how it works/j

I can understand you about being shy about ships, but like, for almost anything I do

But dw, nobody is going to judge you pacman duo is fun, be it platonic or romantic

The question is: why not like pacman duo?

But about the gods of qsmp...

I think Kristin's desing is a mutual consent

Black veil in a hat, a lot of purple

But she deserves the galaxy aesthetic, it looks really cool and pretty and I think it fits the whole goddess of death vibe

And Mine, well, first I want to talk about cc Mike because he has pink hair like her and I think is cute they match:)

I don't know, but everytime I try to imagine her I aways think about some sort of sun aura if that even makes sense

I imagine those dress that are kinda loose but have something tying the waist and without sleeves that are hold by... That ring around on the neck? (Does that make sense? I'm currently can't find any image to help me) and maybe some gold bracelets? I dunno when I think of her I imagine pink, white and gold(because I think it matches with pink)

But I think that she wears a ring with a creeper face carved on it that Mike gave her :)

I've seen some Kari's designs where she has a lantern but I not quite sure for the rest

I've seen some HC that she's the goddess of the impossible, wich... Makes thing kinda hard for me at least

Like, what's is something that would fit that criteria?

The most I have is that I think she would wears braids, like those really intricated and complex braids because I think they are pretty

Taking advantage of the fact that we are talking about the gods of the qsmp to return to the subject of the Cellbit's discord

I think they are some sort of being with -how know how many - thousands? Minds

The chaos and, well, discord of so many minds crashing with different ideas and thoughts not aligned with human morals

Thinking about how would they look is kinda fun, like, how many faces could a creature like this have? Would them even be something the human mind would be able to process? Or it would collapse by simply seeing someone like that?

I think fictional religions and gods are fun to think about

- 🍽️

ramblings below vv

tried to draw some of the ideas you had :3c this one above is a drawing of Mine i did before. it’s inspired by her mc skin which is very pink, i think that’s one of the ways you’d be able to tell when she’s possessing mike because his skin will turn pink like hers and one of his pupils will also change to look like a flower/star!!

i think because for a while kari was faceless she wouldn’t have a very distinct face as a goddess? or like it’s always changing so she never looks the same because she’s like “impossible” so it’s always changing but the one thing that’s the same about her is her colors (lots of red and yellows) and that she has very intricate braiding in her hair. i also think she has like a billion hands. they don’t have to be connected to her but sort of like a biblically accurate angel she has a billion hands sort of floating around her at all times lol

YEES I LOVE FICTIONAL RELIGION/GODS THEYRE SUPER FUN TO THINK ABOUT!! on another server i liked they made Prime a god (like Prime subs on Twitch) because one of the members said it so much which i thought was really fun. Prime was like the common god/religion on that server

anyways cellbits discord!! i think it would be cool if it was like shadows? just like darkness that surrounds someone but if yiu look and listen closely enough you can hear a billion different voices and eyes watching you, especially if you’re doing puzzles then it’s way easier to spot them. they’re not able to take on many forms because there’s just so many of them as one “being” so unless they can all agree they stay as just shadows.

#✉️ asks or whatever #🍽️ anon #🎨 my art

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lorata · 2 years

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Okay this might be a little too spicy to ask, so feel free to ignore, but do you have any THG fanfic/fandom characterization/headcanon pet peeves? Aside from I assume one-note Careers. Mine is the way people erase the mentorship bond! I see so much Finnick stuff especially where he tells the writer’s chosen lover for him that they’re the “only one who sees the real him,” and I’m always like, hello, MAGS???

oh hard agree, plus I'm not a super fan of that even without the mentor thing. like don't get me wrong I love a good, codependent fictional relationship that would be absolutely destructive in real life (delicious) but everyone should have more than one person. there can be MULTIPLE codependent relationships! codependent fractal! a weird group of people with a weird shared experience that nobody else can hope to understand. FEED ME THAT LIKE SKITTLES.

(don't come for me about my fictional preferences. leave me and the fellowship ALONE)

on a similar note I also used to get tired of how everyone made all the mentors sexually and/or romantically involved with their victors (like Beetee/Wiress, Brutus/Enobaria or Finnick/Annie where he's her mentor, whoever.) like no shade to people who read or write it BUT I feel like there was a weird period where no one could envision ANY close relationship without writing it into a pairing. Maybe it's my aroace coming to the surface but I got a bit grumpy. So I wrote an endless permutation of complicated, intense relationships with absolutely no sex or romance aspect. what are ya gonna do about it!

one of my less controversial peeves is "peeta starts out dating glimmer who is vapid and promiscuous and cheats on him so he can get together with katniss who is perfect" like an early taylor swift song. it was E V E R Y W H E R E for a while. if there was a modern AU, Peeta was dating Mean Bitch Glimmer and she'd get her comeuppance around the end of Act I. why. please. one of Katniss' actual, literal, canon character arcs is realizing Glimmer was a person who was forced to act the way she was (her interview dress chosen by her adult stylist was SEE-THROUGH) and she died, alone, for an audience who immediately forgot she existed. and you're gonna "not like other girls" her for your wish-fulfillment barista AU. cool.

on the other end of the scale -- and this is a very personal trigger, so I don't blame anyone for liking it -- the District 5 repro girls / thin girls fanon that was rampant in 2012-2014 fanfic. a bunch of people incorporated it into their stuff but it is such a violent, visceral nope for me that if a story uses it I close the tab immediately.

characterization-wise, there is a fic i still see floating around where rue makes me scream. listen. rue is the oldest of 6 kids AND her father died when she was even younger than katniss. she has been working full time to support her family in a job where you are literally murdered for mistakes since she was nine years old. rue is calculating and intelligent, she tells katniss that peeta is "okay" when she knows he's bleeding to death because if katniss realizes he's dying she'll leave. PLEASE. respect the hustle, the girl is not naive.

ok you did say spicy so i will give you ONE (1) hot take. it drives me bananas when fanfic uses Cato Hadley and Clove Kentwell. they first appeared on wattpad in 2010, when fandom tossed a few names around for a while and hadley and kentwell were the ones that stuck. but IT'S NOT THEIR REAL LAST NAMES STOP ADDING THEM TO THE WIKIS AND TELLING PEOPLE IT'S CANON AAAAAAAAA.

there's my one petty hunger games post, lol. i am pretty live and let live, generally if I don't like something I scroll past or filter it out. the annoyance happens when it's stuff like, trying to read fic about Careers and the first page of results is just them background tagged in an ensemble fic about the main characters -- but that's a minor character in juggernaut fandom problem, that's EVERYWHERE. i do the "search within results summary: name" trick to solve that

#lorata answers #anonymous

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rose-margaritas · 1 year

Text

A First-Timer’s Thoughts on the January 27th Performance of Phantom of the Opera (The Day After 35th Anniversary)

The main trio I saw was Paul A. Schaefer, Emilie Kouatchou, and Bronson Norris Murphy (!!!)

I originally thought that I would be seeing Ben Crawford as the Phantom and John Riddle as Raoul, so I literally squealed when I saw the updated cast.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m finally seeing this in real life or have seen the show online way too many times, but I was focusing on the background characters more than the main ones.

During the Hannibal rehearsal, I saw Mme. Giry fixing Meg’s posture all the way to the left of the stage, and later the slave master practicing (or flirting?) with another slave girl to the right back of the stage.

Raquel Suarez Groen is such a wonderful Carlotta, as always (Carlotta my beloved 💕)

There were quite a few Reyer/Christine moments, with one being him kissing the back of Christine’s hand after her performance.

The tight, squeeze hug between Meg and Christine in the dressing room was so cute!

Meg mumbling “Rehearsals… always rehearsals…!” as she stormed out the dressing room was adorable! (Can you tell that I love Meg?)

Paul’s Phantom was actually pretty good. The unmoving arms during MotN though… he just doesn’t have the grace that people would expect of the Phantom.

Paul’s got the creep crawl during STYDI, it was fast too.

During Prima Donna, Firmin gave a rather firm tap on Carlotta’s shoulder, and she leaned father away from him and closer to André afterwards, while giving Firmin wary looks.

Sassy Piangi for the win.

I never knew that the Phantom’s voice floats around the back of the theatre when they’re reading his note! It was such a wonderful experience, and I was actually looking around the theatre, following his voice lol.

Paul’s laugh was sort of… lackluster during Il Muto

Nehal Joshi is the best. André. Ever. His shrill calls for the ballet and his prolonged presence on the stage with the ballet dancers was so entertaining.

The Shepherd and the ballerinas deserve a medal for giving such a funny performance without muttering a single word.

Bronson’s Raoul looked like he genuinely believed in Christine’s fear for the Phantom. He was quite diligent when he looked around for the voice 🤭

Bronson grinning and spinning with his arms wide open during AIAOY was so cute!!!!!

He also spun Emilie around so many times that I lost count! Truthfully, he’s the first Raoul that made me genuinely ship R/C, and that’s saying something coming from someone who’s a hardcore E/C shipper.

I never noticed that the angels lower from the top of the frame for the AIAOY reprise, and I was slightly shocked to see Paul appear from it too (I don’t know what I was expecting honestly).

During Masquerade, the mannequin with the wings and a leg up the railing kept stealing my attention >:(

Piangi and Carlotta flipping the Opera score upside down and then back, trying to understand what they were looking at during Notes II.

Piangi subtly showing Christine where they are in the score always warms my heart!

Not Reyer clapping first and then saying that Piangi was wrong.

Paul sat so still during PONR that it made me wonder if he was simply a statue.

There were so many Raoul/Mme. Giry moments! During Notes/Prima Donna, after Masquerade, and the descent to the Lair.

Poor Barb suffered two concussions. One from hitting the edge of the stage frame, another from hitting the ground.

Paul’s “You. Try. My. Patience.” was so powerful and ferocious! Good job Paul! (I felt that he may have been saving his energy for the second act)

Raoul tried to look away from the kiss? Not sure.

Still not very used to the way they’re getting the lasso off now, but the sound Bronson emitted when the lasso was loosened definitely made up for it 🫣

The audience that night was a jovial bunch. They were incredibly responsive and laughed and clapped at all the right moments. I felt that this group were mainly people who wanted to experience the show again before it closes. I also chatted with some of the audience members at the stage door, and they were all so nice! They warmed the heart of an incredibly reclusive introvert. 🤗

If any of you guys want to see clips from that night, @symphony-in-a is currently posting them here on tumblr!

#poto #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #poto broadway #show review #poto e/c #poto r/c #paul a schaefer #emilie kouatchou #bronson norris murphy #nehal joshi #eristine #raoulstine #a night to remember #erik the phantom #christine daae #raoul de chagny

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eddieredmayneargentinablog · 2 years

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Happy Father's Day!

On this special day, here's this article published by "HuffPost" for Eddie's birthday in 2020, tittled:

"Lovely Quotes About Parenthood From Eddie Redmayne"

"Eddie Redmayne knows the highs and lows of raising little ones.

The “Fantastic Beasts” star and his wife, Hannah Bagshawe, have a daughter, Iris, and a son, Luke. Since becoming a father in 2016, the actor has spoken about sleep struggles, flying with infants, baby noises and more.

In honor of his birthday, here are 13 lovely quotes about parenthood from Redmayne:

On Parenting Advice

“The amazing thing is that everything that everyone has ever told you ― all of the clichés ― you become the person starting to spout out the clichés as if they are the newest thought.”

On His Favorite Part Of Being A New Dad

“It’s in the morning. If Iris has managed to sleep through the night and then you hear a gentle squeak and you go in [her room] and turn on the light ... and the massive grin that’s like, ‘It’s a whole new day.’ That’s probably the greatest thing.”

On Baby Noises

“Hilariously, she’s learned to shout. She doesn’t cry much, but she’s learned to shout. ... It’s hilarious ― she’ll just be sitting there going, ‘Behhhhh!’ Like, what is that noise? From this tiny little thing.”

On Priorities

“I have two little children — Iris is now two and a half and Luke is 8 months. So honestly, life is about trying to keep the children alive. But they’re wonderful.”

On The Magic Of Parenthood

“All the things like different parts of your heart opening … it’s really extraordinary. There’s this amazing thing with children ― whenever you’re having a bit of a tired moment or something, it’s like she’s always just one stop ahead of you, smiling you along. It’s great.”

On The Parenting Power He Wants

“I would like a spell cast to be able to sleep through the night ― that would be perfect … just that!”

On His Daughter As A Big Sister

“She’s fantastic. There are occasional moments when Hannah and I are both out of the room and we get a glimpse of Iris entertaining Luke. No one makes him laugh as much as she does. You can’t quite believe it. Like, these humans are interacting [by themselves], so that’s been pretty special.”

On How Parenthood Prepares Him For Work

“There was a moment last year when my family ― my brother’s obsessed with getting dressed up at Christmas, or New Year actually, and so he decided that ‘Fantastic Beasts’ was going to be the dress code. So we got Iris dressed up as a Niffler ― then a baby Niffler ― and the way she behaved as a Niffler was very inspiring in the next film when we actually had the baby Nifflers. She’s running around, causing chaos, and so I felt like I got really method on the baby Nifflers.”

On Sleep

“Iris is heaven, but before you’re a parent you hear people talking about sleepless nights, and then suddenly you’re the guy who’s floating in constant jetlag with an IV of caffeine! I’ve become that person. But occasionally there’s that amazing thing where it’s 3 o’clock in the morning and you’re sort of gently furious, yet you get a little smile, your heart breaks a bit and it’s all totally worth it.”

On Flying To The Rio Olympics With A Baby

“We went to the Olympics when Iris was 8 weeks old. It was sort of the most outstanding invitation. I’ve always had this utter fear of flying with children and this was the first time she was flying. Of course, we were on a flight with basically most of the British Olympic team and there was this fear that what if she cries lots and they don’t sleep and they blame all of their lack of sleep on Iris, but she was amazing.”

On Small Wins

“One night Iris slept all the way through and we were like, ‘Our lives have returned!’ only we got sucker-punched the next night by being woken at all hours.”

On Family

“Marriage is the most wonderful achievement of them all for me because that has given me this platform to be a dad ― the best dad I can be.”

On Work-Life Balance

“I’m happy to give everything to [a project], but I need to make sure that they will bring my family.”-

#eddie redmayne #eddieredmayne #redmayne #Eddie Redmayne #hannah bagshawe #happy father's day #june 2022

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motownfiction · 11 months

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homecoming

Sadie’s a true romantic. As such, she always spent a lot of time dreaming about school dances. From the second she was allowed to attend them (the end of sixth grade, when the junior high threw a dance for sixth graders only), she thought about how the perfect dance would go. She’d wear a beautiful dress, either green or blue, and she’d dance with Daniel. It never mattered that she was taller. It only mattered that she loved him. She could turn that into a great dance.

Semesters, years, and dances went by. Sadie attended all of them, but Daniel was never her date. She never even snagged him away for one dance, one little sway, even in the corner of the gym. But this year is going to be different. This year, they’re seniors. This year, they’re girlfriend and boyfriend. This year, Daniel DeLuca is Sadie Doyle’s date for the homecoming dance.

But this year, Daniel DeLuca is voted on the homecoming court.

And Sadie Doyle is most definitely not.

Everybody says it’s all well and good. People on the homecoming court can have dates who are not. Most of them do, as a matter of fact. But Sadie doesn’t care what the rules are. She cares that she just got the boy she loves, and now, he’s homecoming royalty.

Will and Sam tease Daniel about this without mercy. None of them are supposed to be on the homecoming court, the prom court, or the student council. They’re not supposed to do anything flashy or productive for St. Catherine’s, the oppressive institution that can excuse racism but draws the line at an untucked shirt. Even Lucy’s glad not to be their valedictorian after all. But here’s Daniel, with no choice but to don a pretty white sash and smile and wave on top of a homecoming float. It’s funny, actually. Hilarious. So long as you’re not Sadie, who has to watch him sit on top of that float in between Kim Campbell and Gina Lumetta, both girls Daniel burned through before making his way to her.

Daniel promises her it’s just a formality. He doesn’t really want to do it, but it doesn’t even seem like an option to refuse. He tells Sadie it’s just one night of their lives, and they’ll have plenty more without sashes, crowns, and weird floats. Sadie believes him – really, she does – but that doesn’t take the sting out of her chest when she sees Kim put her hand on Daniel’s shoulder.

She was hoping she wouldn’t be the jealous type.

On the night of the homecoming dance, the members of the court are supposed to dance with each other. Their faculty advisor, Mrs. Quimby, picked the song: “Forever Young,” Alphaville, in a move so transparent, you’d almost miss it. And when it starts, when the homecoming royalty parades down the gym floor, Daniel is arm in arm with Gina. He starts to dance with her.

And then he doesn’t.

And then the music stops.

Sadie’s breath hitches a little. She looks around the room and finds Sam with the DJ, throwing her the biggest “thumbs up” of his life. The music comes back on, but it’s not Alphaville anymore.

You always won every time you placed a bet ...

It’s “Still the Same.”

It’s “Still the Same,” and Daniel is asking Sadie for this dance.

“I really shouldn’t have doubted you,” Sadie says.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Daniel laughs. “You think the guys who stole the Millennium Falcon couldn’t pull this off?”

“Well, yeah, but didn’t you want to dance with Gina?”

“No.”

“But …”

“No.”

Sadie smiles. She draws Daniel closer to her. It doesn’t matter that Mrs. Quimby is giving Sam more detention than he can handle, that the rest of the homecoming court is freaking out, or that Daniel is even shorter when Sadie wears heels. He did this for her. And she has nothing to hide.

#drabble #ch: sadie doyle #ch: daniel deluca #ship: still the same #year: 1984

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fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years

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Things the MC would bring back to their demon bois from the mortal realm:

Lucifer:

MC goes to second hand stores and vintage shops always on the look out for vinyl records that they think Lucifer would like.

Most of the time they try and bring back stuff he'd actually like, such as Tchaikovsky or Vivaldi

Once, they brought back Stravinsky's Firebird Suite and Lucifer wouldn't stop kissing them (once they were in the privacy of his room of course)

Sometimes the MC will bring back more modern music just because it makes them think of him

"I dunno, I just listen to Hozier and think of you"

Lucifer doesn't like all the modern music they bring back but he appreciates the sentiment just the same

Then there's the gag gifts...

Any kind of music that has a reference to the devil or Satan or hell is fair game

These gifts usually elicit an eye roll from the eldest brother but he keeps them all the same

This is why Lucifer owns a copy of "The Devil Went Down To Georgia"

So when MC brings back a copy of Giuseppe Tartini's Violin Sonata in G minor, they're a little surprised at Lucifer's delighted reaction

"You know, I was the one who visited Tartini in his dreams."

MC's mind = blown.

"Also, this copy is cursed. I know you know how much I enjoy cursed vinyls."

"I- wait... What?!"

MC is very upset that they had a cursed vinyl in their possession this whole time

Mammon:

This boy loves stuff, and he loves MC, so he's gonna love any gift really

But MC knows he loves treasure and jewels and as much as they'd love to just bring him back nice watches and jewelery...

MONEY IS A THING, AND MC IS NOT MADE OF IT.

So MC settles for semi-precious stones instead

They always find fun and beautiful stones at museums and those metaphysical stores and they always pick out one that reminds them of Mammon

They're really nervous when they give him his first gift

"Hey, I got this for you and I know it's not fancy or expensive but I saw it and thought of you and I just wanted you to have it."

Mammon will love them until they die. He is really just so touched that MC thought of him. He'll try and play it cool though

He totally fails. MC won't tell him that though

MC brings him Lapis Lazuli and tells him it reminded them of his eyes and Mammon is now a puddle of lovesick goo on the floor

Mammon puts more shelves in his room dedicated to all the gifts MC gives him

One time MC brings him back some fool's gold in a teeny little jar on a chain, so that he can wear it

"Fool's gold? Why cuz I'm a fool?" Mammon asks with a roll of his eyes.

"What? No, cuz I'm a fool for you."

Mammon only love MC until they die? WRONG.

He's gonna love them forever now

He was gonna do that anyways

Leviathan:

C'mon, this boy is easy. Anime/manga stuff and TSL. Need I say more?

At first he'll be suspicious of MC wanting to give him gifts, but once they've convinced him that they're doing it out of the kindness of their heart he's really touched

The first thing the MC brings him is a pen with a little Ruri-Chan on the end of it

"I know it's not much, but I just happened to see it and I knew you'd like it"

Like it??????

HE LOVES IT! HE'S OVER THE GODDAMM MOON.

He's never seen anything like this in the Devildom and he doesn't think about the small stuff usually because he's too busy trying to get the big collectors edition items. So he actually really loves this.

MC continues to bring him cute small stuff like buttons and keychains and Levi loves them all.

His favorite item(s) that MC brought him is a pair of Lord of Shadows and Henry BFF enamel pins

He definitely tackle hugged MC when he got them

He gives the Lord of Shadows pin back to MC so they can each have one and show off their BFF status with them

Satan:

MC loves going to second-hand bookstores to shop for Satan.

Satan also appreciates new books, but there's something special about how his face lights up when he finds something old or rare. Anything with a little bit of history to it.

Of course, finding rare books for not a lot of money is a rare event in itself

So a safe bet is to bring Satan non-fiction, the boy loves to learn

But he really loves it when MC puts thought into finding fiction books that he would like

"I just really feel like you'd like Dean Koontz so I brought you one of my favorites by him."

Satan loves those gifts the most because he can talk to MC about the books afterwards

Satan's absolute favourite gift is a leather bound copy of Arabian Nights though

"I was thinking we could read this one together"

"Like you read it to me and pretend to be Scheherazade?" Satan suggests.

MC is flustered at the connotation of the suggestion but agrees anyways

The time they spend together reading that story will forever be one of Satan's favorite memories

Asmodeus:

He's a little harder to shop for than the MC had originally imagined

They tried bringing him make-up and skin care, which Asmo always graciously accepted, but he never seemed super excited about the gifts

But what else is to be expected from the guy who already uses only the best products?

MC suddenly gets an idea when they send Asmo a selfie of them at the park

- OMG! You're so cute! And the background is pretty too!-

MC starts dressing up and going to nice and beautiful places just with the intention of taking pictures

Botanical Gardens, museums, downtown skylines, anything that would make for a good picture

MC goes full on aesthetic art hoe just for Asmo

Only the best pictures get sent to Asmo

Asmo is LIVING for the looks their MC is serving up

- You are absolutely STUNNING! I'm in awe at these AMAZING pictures-

MC makes a scrapbook of the best pictures to give to Asmo the next time they see him

Asmo loves it and keeps it on display in his room always

Also, Asmo definitely makes MC their personal photographer after seeing the wonderful shots they took

Beelzebub:

Obviously, the boy loves food. He's always down to try new snacks from the mortal realm.

But MC wonders if there's something better that they could bring him

One day MC is at GNC for supplements for themself when they notice the workout supplements and get an idea

They grab some fun flavored protein powder and some BCAAs and a really nice shaker bottle just for Beel

Beel is actually really excited to get these gifts!

The Devildom doesn't have fun flavors of protein powder and the shaker bottle is such a great idea!

MC always brings new flavors of protein back for Beel, doing their best to find the weirdest flavors for him to try

Beel's favorite is definitely Birthday Cake.

MC starts bringing him new stuff to try too, protein bars, recovery supplements, collagen, and superfoods shakes

Beel tries everything and tells MC what their favorites are

"I love the BCAAs, I just wish the Devildom had them..." *sad Beel noises*

MC may or may not talk to Diavolo about researching BCAAs and getting them produced and sold in the Devildom

The supplements MC brings actually help Beel with his workouts and to control his hunger (a little)

Beel actually gets hotter??? Who knew that was possible???

MC definitely takes advantage of Beel's new 8-pack 😏😏😏

Belphegor:

What do you get the boy who only wants to sleep?

MC has gotten him stuffed animals and blankets and even a couple of nice pillows, but nothing seems to excite him

... but maybe that's just his personality??

It's not until MC accidentally leaves a sweater in the Devildom, that they figure it out

- You left your sweater down here- Belphie texts MC.

- Oh no, I'll just get when I come to visit y'all again-

- That's fine. I like having something that smells like you-

And the light bulb went off in MC's head.

Every time MC goes to visit they leave a shirt or sweater behind for Belphie, so that he can have something that smells like them.

Belphie loves how MC smells, its like a sweet dream all the time. It helps him sleep better when they're gone.

Belphie starts to complain when MC is gone longer than the item they left smells like them

(Which is every time)

So MC will start leaving Belphie more than one item, packing them in airtight bags so he can use them one after another until they return

Belphie can and will fight anyone who tries to take MC's clothing

"Mammon, you have two seconds to put that sweater back or I will kill you."

And Lucifer probably won't stop him

Diavolo:

He's honestly the easiest to please.

He's so fascinated with any thing that humans do that he'll enjoy any gift from the human world.

MC's first gift to him is a rubber duck.

"The duck is wearing a crown so it made me think of you and I just thought it was cute."

"I love it! What's its purpose?"

"Uh... to float around in the bathtub with you and look cute?"

"Isn't that what you're for?"

Diavolo loves the rubber duck so much it gets his own silk pillow to rest on when it's not taking a bath with Diavolo.

MC brings him cute pens, and keychains sometimes bottles of wine if the bottle is cute.

"The bottle is shaped like a cat! Isn't that delightful?!"

MC's proudest moment was when they found a full and intact tea set at the thrift store

Diavolo immediately fell in love with it.

He insists on only using that set when having tea with MC

But his favorite gift will always be the rubber duck.

Barbatos:

He'll insist that he doesn't need any gifts but that won't stop the MC.

MC is with him in the kitchen in the Demon Lord's Palace when they get an idea.

KITCHEN TOYS.

Barbatos works so hard, he deserves some things to make his life easier and liven up the bland kitchen

MC's first gift is a vegetable spiralizer.

"You use it to turn zucchini and squash and the like into noodles so that you can do fun stuff with vegetables!"

Barbatos accepts it graciously, but he'll probably never use it.

MC brings him spices from the mortal realm and Barbatos actually really loves those.

When MC brings him a food processor, he offers to cook for them right then and there

Despite all the weird gadgets MC ends up bringing him, and there are plenty out there, Barbatos's favorite is a ladle that looks like a stegosaurus.

It's far more whimsical than anything he would've ever picked out, and he'll never use it, but only because he's afraid of ruining it, not because he doesn't love it.

At some point, Barbatos does ask MC to stop bringing him kitchen gadgets

"Why? Do you not like them?" MC asks with a pout.

"I appreciate all of them, but I have everything I need when you're in the kitchen with me."

If MC wasn't already in love with him they are now

Smooth bastard just doesn't want anymore shit in his kitchen

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elkdiaries · 2 years

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every day i wake up and think about byler at the snowball.

imagine just how many jitters will had before he arrived, fidgeting with his dress shirt over and over because maybe today’s the day. maybe today he’ll actually find a boy who’s like him, and the two can live out a little nice dream of will’s that he’s kept locked up in the back of his mind for ages. he and the boy could sit together on the bleachers while everyone slow danced, and when they met eyes, he’d offer will his hand under the bench they were sitting on. they’d stay like that, warm in each other’s company, until the next fast song played and they could blend in with the friends who all spun each other like it wasn’t a big deal.

for once, maybe he’d feel normal.

he gets there, hands all knit together to calm his nerves, only relaxing after he comes across lucas and mike. seeing them is like a breath of fresh air. they both regard him kindly, with lucas whistling and chatting him up while they stand around.

but mike. oh, he can’t help but notice the way his tie is all messy because he’d never been attentive during his fathers’ boring instructional lectures on how to tie them properly. will’s gaze flits about mike’s brown blazer and the way he adjusts the cuffs every five seconds because they’re a bit too short for his lengthy arms. his hair is curlier than it had been only a month or two ago.

it’s hard to look away.

dustin and max show up, both stealing the show in unexpected ways with their untraditional outfits and big hair. as the three gabble over each other, unintentionally omitting mike and will from the conversation, mike leans his elbow against will’s as he always does. it’s natural, normal at this point, yet still draws up a tiny thrill in will that takes a moment to shake.

and then mike says softly, almost as if to no one at all, “you look pretty.”

“me?” will responds after a moment.

and he looks up for confirmation, but mike’s already gazing.

“yes, you.”

with that comment on his conscience, will’s floating around for a good ten minutes. his legs are no more than clouds, being pushed to and fro based on the direction of the party. mike’s compliments, no matter what they are, end up in a special corner of will’s brain— typically unreachable, but unnervingly passionate when they arise once again. the wishes, the dreams he was clutching onto back at home are bountiful as ever once the first slow dance gets fired up, and couples drag each other onto the gymnasium floor like they’ve been doing this for years.

a girl approaches their cluster. he glances over at dustin, figuring that his nest of hair must’ve worked as a beacon in attracting dance candidates, but instead he hears something else.

“hey zombie boy, do you wanna dance?”

his stomach sinks. not just at the nickname, but the fact that this ruins everything. impulsively, he looks at mike with the hope he’ll be kept in the circle, the excuse “he’s just not feeling up to it today” giving him some time to fulfill his real wishes.

it’s not like dancing with a girl will kill him. but as he’s ushered forward by his closest friends into a sea of boy-girl pairs, will begins to think that he’s never felt more alone.

they dance and it’s normal and he tries not to damage her shiny peach shoes, but the smile he’s plastered on his face is beginning to slip as well as his memory of how to dance like a normal person. instinctually, he looks to the bleachers and hidden by an array of paper streamers is not a boy waiting for his company, but nobody at all.

he tells himself with a clot in his throat that he should never have wished.

mike enters his vision once again, not as dejected as he looked after will left the group. he’s out on the dance floor, grin as wide as can be with a girl clinging onto his shoulders. it’s eleven. and god she looks stunning, with sparkly eye makeup and a nice blue dress, and mike is so clearly in love with her that it makes will yearn for a time when mike looked at him that way. when he looked at will and gave a compliment or a laugh or a nudge to the hands, hair, shoulder. when he looked at will like he brought the sun into the sky and made oceans move. had it ever actually happened? had mike treated him as he did el, with a manner that expressed nothing but soft, real love?

will doesn’t know, not anymore.

it is then that will realizes that it’s been mike all along. mike who he wants to sit in the bleachers with, fingers laced together. mike who he wants an arm of comfort from to wrap him up and keep him protected after everything’s gone to shit. mike who he loves. mike who he’s lost.

mike who promised to go crazy with him, but who left just as quickly as he came.

to retain a smile, will repeats to himself, it was all just a dream.

#byler #stranger things fanfiction #mike wheeler #mike wheeler is gay #will byers #will byers is gay #stranger things #stranger things 2 #the snowball #the party #will x mike #mike x will #short story #malcom writes

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

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and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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parkersbliss · 3 years

Text

Diamonds | K. Brekker

pairing; kaz brekker x female!reader

warnings: cursing, I think that’s it

wc; 2.3K

synopsis: dirtyhands doesn’t need anyone, but he wants you, even if he can’t have you

prompts: 001: “why do you care?” 047: “please just let me in.”

a/n: this went in a very different direction then I planned but I love it??

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

Kaz Brekker was a lot of things.

Emotionally unavailable was one of them.

But you never thought much of it. You didn’t think less of him because of that. Surviving the barrel meant being cold, ruthless, and cunning.

Everyone had to have some dark side to them. It was a given.

But Kaz’s dark side never turned off. He was always in a constant state of brooding, thinking about all the ways the plan could fail or coming up with a new heist.

His brain never shuts off.

You never considered that a bad thing, but everyone has to rest eventually.

But rest wasn’t a word in Kaz’s dictionary. For him, resting meant thinking about other things.

Things that he wanted to forget.

So he busied himself with work, numbers, and other things to push the other thoughts out of his mind. Sometimes they were about Jordie and the harbor, sometimes they were about Rollins or you.

Kaz never wanted to forget you, but he didn’t want to think about you either. About the way, your lips curved up into a smile every time Jesper threw his arm around you. Or the way you throw your head back every time Nina makes a joke, the way you sit patiently with Wylan when he tries to read, the way you train so gracefully with Inej, and the way you make fun of Matthias’ accent.

He wants to push it all out of his mind because he doesn’t understand it. He doesn’t get how he manages to notice every detail about you.

It would cost him eventually, which is why he didn’t think about it. It’s why he tried to busy himself with things that have nothing to do with you.

But sometimes, it doesn’t always work out that way.

It was moments like these where Kaz is in a constant state of don’t fuck up and don’t say anything.

Which never goes in his favor.

The plan was simple, break-in and walk-out. There were three separate sections to the museum, and the event kept everyone pretty busy.

All you had to do was get in, steal a few jewels and then blend in with the crowd for the rest of the night.

It should be easy enough.

You all dress in your best attire, at least, the best attire that wouldn’t slow you down if you have to run. Kaz’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees you. Silky fabric, exposed skin, and all your beauty.

He nods at you as you fall into step behind him.

“You look nice,” You said.

“Thank you. So do you.”

You all find yourself in an ally by the museum as Inej scales the roof for her way in. You know she’s successful when the back entrance pops open, and she leans against the door frame with a satisfied smile on her face; her green dress trails along the floor as you make your way inside.

Bright fluorescent lights illuminate the hallway, and the sound of heels and Kaz’s cane echo down it. Kaz pick locks the three doors with ease, signaling for the groups of you to go in.

Matthias and Nina are responsible for the smaller riches, Inej, Wylan, and Jesper take care of replacing them, and you and Kaz get the big stuff.

The room sparkles with diamonds, almost blinding you. To Kaz, it smells like money. For each piece stolen, the two of you replace it with a cheaper place holder.

By the time anyone noticed, you would be gone.

You grab a ring off a stand, slipping it on and examining it in the light.

Kaz coughs, and you turn to face him.

He holds the most expensive piece in his hand, a diamond necklace.

It’s worth more than a quarter of a million kruge.

“Woah,” you breathe out. The diamonds are arranged in such a way that it sits close to the neck, and looks like small interconnected leaves.

“Wear it,” Kaz said.

“Kaz-”

“You would look… pretty with it,” The last part is barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” You agree, taking the piece from his hands. Your fingers barely brush his gloved ones as you take the necklace, clasping it around your neck.

Then, Kaz steps back. “I think we got most of it.”

You can’t take all of the riches, but you can take enough to make some serious bank. You exit the room, Kaz locking it after, and meet back in the hallway with everyone else. Inej and Nina both drip in equal expenses and gasp when they see your necklace.

“I almost want to keep it,” You said, touching the diamonds.

“It does look stunning on you,” Nina said.

“I’m sure we have enough to keep that piece,” Inej said, gesturing to the jewelry between you all.

“I do not understand the need for stones to prove one’s worth,” Matthias said.

Nina pats his shoulder, “It’s like you Fjerdans and your fur coats.”

"Witch," Matthias mumbled under his breath.

Kaz takes the lead, directing you to the main room. You can hear the sounds of people chattering, classical music floating in the air. You all split into smaller groups, mostly pairs, to avoid detection.

You and Kaz stay towards the center of the room, observing everyone else and waiting till the event ends.

As Kaz’s eyes sweep the ballroom, yours sweep over his face, familiarizing yourself with his features.

He has sharp cheekbones, fair skin, and a pointed nose. His lips are drawn down into the softest frown, and there are bags under his dark eyes. His eyebrow twitches ever so slightly whenever he sees someone he doesn’t like, and he runs a gloved hand through his hair, slicking it back more if it’s possible.

He was beautiful.

After a few more moments of mingling, they prepare to bring the jewelry out on display. You and Kaz back towards the exit, just in case something goes wrong.

The fake one sparkles just the same, and a clear difference can’t be seen. It’s only glass that Wylan had managed to craft by himself.

The servant gulps, taking careful steps with the case in his hand. His hands shake, and as he takes the first step up the stairs, he stumbles.

It shatters.

The glass scatters across the floor, the fake necklace you planted aside does the same, the pieces landing everywhere.

You can practically feel Kaz tense next to you when the crowd gasps; actual diamonds wouldn’t break.

“Don’t move,” Kaz whispers. He makes a hand gesture to the rest of the Dregs around the room that means remain still. “Act just as surprised.”

On any other occasion, it would be easy, but when the original necklace is dangling from your neck, it’s like an open target for anyone with eyes. Murmurs flow through the crowd, but no one pays any mind to the Dregs because you all look like you belong here. They’re looking for the black sheep among the white.

But they all look just the same.

“We will be conducting manual searches,” The guards announce.

“Saints,” You whisper, hand instinctively grabbing the diamonds on your neck.

“Plan B,” Kaz said. He meets Jesper’s eyes across the room, nodding his head, and Jesper smirks. He grabs one of his revolvers, firing a single shot and tucking it away before anyone notices. The crowd screams, everyone rushing to the exits as more shots are fired from various parties (some from Jesper, some from guards, or others who just love chaos).

You all make a run for it, using the main exit where guards were desperately trying to keep everyone in.

You watch Inej slip through with ease, Nina and Mattias next. Jesper gets held up, but he managed to talk his way out of it as Wylan tugs on his sleeve.

You and Kaz are last, taking your time to avoid being pushed in by the crowd. You could run ahead, get out before Kaz, but you don’t.

You stay by his side and maintain the slow pace, even when there’s a quarter of a million kruge hanging from your neck.

As you approach the exit, you’re one foot out when someone grabs your arm.

“I got her!” The guard shouts. He starts dragging you back inside as you try to dig your heel into their foot.

Then, in the span of a second, a cane comes down on his arm, a clear snap ringing out.

You stumble from their grasp, unknowingly using Kaz’s shoulder to steady yourself. He hisses but says nothing more because as soon as you notice, you let go.

“Nina!” You scream as the guards come pouring out the entrance.

It was clear who the target was.

The heartrender holds up her hands, effectively dropping their beat, but you underestimate how many there are.

“Run!” Jesper shouts.

And you do as you’re told. The guards open fire, and you bunch your dress in your hands, running through the streets of Ketterdam. Kaz begins to fall behind, and you slow down your pace.

“Jes, throw me a revolver!”

“What?”

“Throw it!”

Wylan rolls his eyes, fishing the gun from his boyfriend’s pocket and tossing it at you.

“What are you doing?” Kaz said.

“Saving your ass!” You reply.

“I don’t need your saving!” Kaz retorts, glaring at you.

You roll your eyes, “Fine, I’m covering you.”

“I don’t need that either.”

“Kaz-”

“I don’t need you!”

You nod, turning away from him to hide the hurt on your face. “No, of course, you don't."

You fire a single shot at a guard, busying yourself in taking a few out, so Kaz doesn’t get hit. When he’s a good way ahead, you sprint after the rest of the Dregs. You see the tail of Jesper’s coat disappear down an alleyway.

You fire one last round of shots and duck behind it. You move past Kaz, catching up with Jesper and thanking him.

He smiles, bumping your shoulder. “Anything for the lady.”

The slat is in sight, and you sigh in relief, happy to rest and unload all the jewels everyone is dripping in.

You could only imagine the amount of kruge you’d come up with.

Jesper opens the door for the Dregs, and you all practically collapse on the couch. You Nina and Inej are all on one, kicking off your heels.

“I hate heels,” You said.

“You’re telling me,” Inej replied. “Never again.”

Nina shrugs, “Annoying as hell, but they do work in place of a knife every now and then.”

“I am never without my knives.”

“We know.”

Kaz walks past you all, limping a bit worse than usual and going up to his office.

You don’t bother following after him. Instead, you all dump the jewelry on the table.

“Oh, saints,” Inej gasped.

Jesper leans back in his seat, “I think we’re set.”

“You’ll gamble it all away before we even cash it in,” Matthias said as Jesper scoffed.

“It’ll take me at least a few months to lose that.”

“Months?” Wylan asked.

“Like six tops.”

Everyone begins to argue, and you tune them out. You forgot about the most expensive piece hanging from your neck, absentmindedly playing with it. When you remember, you figure the best thing to do with it is give it up to Kaz.

With a sigh, you stand up, the fabric of your dress falling back into place.

You don’t bother knocking on his door, you know you should, but you didn’t care all that much.

“Here’s your necklace,” You said bitterly, dropping it on his desk.

“(Y/N)-”

“A quarter of a million kruge, enough to set you for life. That’s all you need, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure felt like it,” You snap.

“I just-,” Kaz sighed, avoiding your gaze. “Keep the necklace.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You don’t?” Kaz asked, eyebrows raised. “I thought you liked it. You should have it if that’s the case.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.”

You click your tongue, “Keep the fucking necklace, Kaz.”

Kaz curses himself, tugging at his hair. He was making the situation much worse. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn't piss you off. He thought the necklace would be like a peace offering, a sign of his thanks.

It backfired on him.

He’s bordering the line of being cold or grateful. When grateful didn’t work in his favor, he went for the other.

“I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Please, take it.”

“It’s worth money. That’s far more important to both of us.”

Kaz shuts his eyes, “(Y/N), please.”

And you know this isn't about the necklace anymore. It never really was.

You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. You were tired of pretending to brush off your feelings. It was killing you. Every time you tried to do something, Kaz pushed you back. You couldn't keep doing this to yourself.

“You either want this, or you don’t. Which one is it?”

“Please,” he said softly.

You sigh, blinking harshly. Your heart hammers in your chest. You take a breath, trying to calm yourself.

“Kaz, I need you,” You said softly, “Please just let me in.”

“I can’t,” He said, voice strained as he fights his demons. God, he wants to, but he's scared. He's scared of pushing you away or hurting either of you in the process. He couldn't go through that kind of loss again.

“I will wait,” You said. “I will wait as long as you need. I just need to know that you’re in this too.”

Kaz meets your eyes. His are glassy as he holds the necklace tightly in his hands, running his gloved fingers over the diamonds.

He could lose you.

And that is far worse than not having you at all.

He slowly peels his gloves off. His movements are slow and deliberate, taking his time. When they’re off, he grabs the necklace and stands up.

You hold your breath as he stands behind you, brushing your hair out of the way. His fingers just barely dance across your skin, but they’re there.

He clasps the necklace, and you turn around to face him.

“Kaz?” You question.

“I need you too, (Y/N).”

“I’m not leaving," You assure him.

“Good. We’re in this.”

“We’re in this.”

#IM OBSESSED WITH HIM #I love kaz #I am speedrunning this requests #hehe #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker #grishaverse #six of crows imagine #six of crows #soc #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #s&b

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