#LISTEN.....i have so many ideas for them and this one popped into my mind and i've been so excited to share it

[wexhappyxfew]

stray bullets

(a/n): it's been a long time coming, but.....i am beyond excited to share this piece. focused on some early days with kennedy x bucky, i wanted to dig into kennedy and her character (and her fun internal monologue) and introduce exactly how she's connected with bucky - because let's be honest, even she doesn't know how it happened. please enjoy!! :D (also...it's a bit of a long one - i was having some fun haha!)

The silence around the interrogation table was enough to mess with any person's head; whether they were the command pilot, like Lieutenant Bradshaw, or a tail gunner, like Marianne Salinger, they all seemed to sit in reserved quietness as they festered in the happenings of just an hour ago.

Sweat trickled down the sides of her face as she leaned against the wooden table, picking at pieces that were peeling up, trying to keep her eyes away from the maps sprawled out, and that big leather-jacket notebook where Bessie kept all her notes, coordinates and documentation for what planes had gone down - when and where. The other tables were much more lively - louder, chatty, a bit of yelling even. The Silver Bullets table was quiet, and they were all sure it had to do with the notable lack of their flight engineer, who was currently at the Med-Bay, bloodied and unconscious.

Margie Harlowe was on all of their minds it seemed.

And the thought of having to recount the events leading up to that point, made Kennedy want to vomit. The hit had come just as they were on the 90 degree turn to get the bombs ready to drop. Achterberg had taken control of the plane, with Bradshaw and Montez working to guide the B-17 swiftly to the side, as the onslaught of flak and bullets sprayed from the German fighters swinging around above them.

Kennedy remembered the yelp and anguished cry of pain that had come from her headset, the blood-curdling scream for help that had Kennedy forgetting about her .50 cal and racing towards where the top turret was. She couldn't get that look on Margie's face out of her mind; sobbing, horrified, the blood covering half her face, Stagliano trying to calm Margie down the best she could, while waving off the sad excuse of help that Kennedy had been. Freezing up like that, what was she thinking?

"Sergeant Farley." Kennedy's head snapped up - she didn't realize she'd blanked out, staring at the dried blood on her hands, shoved up underneath her fingernails, and had her name being called all at once. She met the eyes of the interrogator and swallowed.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said you were there when you got Sergeant Harlowe out of the top turret." the interrogator started, "Can you recount that for me?" Kennedy stared at him, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone at the table and some of the surrounding upper brass, on her.

Colonel Harding had stood in the background, hand nervously resting on his upper lip, eyes masked in worry as the group had come in - it seemed whenever something happened to Silver Bullets, he was always at interrogation, especially their table. Making sure wrongs were righted and that whatever was going on, was fixed. He looked out for them.

"I was, sir," Kennedy managed out, shifting a bit, as more sweat dripped down her face, briefly catching the worried look from Judy just a few people down. Her eyes caught on Vivian's gaze opposite her own. She then found Francis watching her, and tried to avoid her emotions that she felt as she noted the ones in their co-pilot's own. The only thing keeping her steady was Lieutenant Bradshaw's presence beside her.

In some innate way, having Lieutenant Bradshaw there kept her from losing it.

"It was quick," Kennedy said, "I figured flak or….something from one of the fighters. German fighters. Bullet spray." Kennedy saw Paulina nod her on encouragingly.

"Sergeant Ratcliff was manning her post….so, I went to Sergeant Harlowe," Kennedy said, her eyes filling with tears, her voice breaking, "I got her out of there. As quick as I could. I…I laid her down. There was blood…..everywhere…." Kennedy trailed off. She was staring at her hands again, covered in blood. Margie's blood.

"I was able to stop the bleeding from both the side of her face and her shoulder. Took what bandage was there and wrapped her shoulder. Set it in a splint." Paulina said quickly, her words firm and much more logically-backed and confident than Kennedy's would ever be, "I ensured that there weren't blocked airways and she could breathe. It was a joint effort, Sergeant Farley and I, to ensure her safety." Kennedy looked to Paulina and gave her a slow nod of thanks, to which Paulina nodded back. Because that's what they did for each other; having each other's backs like this.

"Alright," the interrogator said, making a few extra notes before clearing his throat and looking towards Lieutenant Bradshaw, who was sat there stoic and quiet, "we lost Browning and Alder. How many chutes….?"

Kennedy watched in a reeling bit of slow motion as Judy sat there and recounted the number of chutes she had seen, Marianne and Francis chiming in with their own recounts and visuals. How many more chutes would they have to count, planes going down all around, before this would be over? Before this nightmare would end?

Kennedy looked to the empty chair where Margie would've sat and felt her heart sag and her throat tighten with emotion she had been forcing herself not to feel. It was eerily similar to when Captain Faulkner had taken the hit. When she had died. They still had sat around this stupid interrogation table, having to talk about that mission, about what had happened, with Captain Faulkner's chair left open, her presence highly gone. They all remembered that. It hurt.

Whether it was the fact she was sat at that table, or was used to a constant presence of eyes, she glanced upwards and found, from the middle opening space where some of the brass would linger in times like this, Major Egan watching her, his hands placed on his hips, and his eyes seeking out her own.

Kennedy had never been wrapped up in any sort of long-winded conversation with Major Egan - their differences in rank and formalities were already a larger factor than needed when it came to talking to him and she didn't want to incite any sort of inappropriate ideas past that. They'd debated about baseball a few times - her, a raging Red Sox fan, him a stupid Yankees fan - and they'd even had a few conversations that were outside that realm. But it was never anything much more than that. And she intended to keep it that way. Yet, something in his gaze made her not want to look away from his face, from his eyes, from his presence stood there in the center of the room.

"Sergeant Farley?" She snapped her head away from his eyes and back to the table - many of which of the Silver Bullets girls were currently watching Kennedy with sorrowful and worried expressions, while Lieutenant Bradshaw eyed her curiously.

"Sorry?"

"The number of chutes from Browning. That you saw?" the interrogator asked. Kennedy righted herself and straightened her back.

"Right."

When they were dismissed, after Kennedy had been sat, blanked out for a greater portion of her time there in the seat, Lieutenant Bradshaw had caught her before she could run away, pulling her to the side, with a warm hand on her shoulder and a soft look in her eyes.

"You should go visit her," Annie said quietly, "I can tell by the look in your eye that you won't change out of these clothes or eat until you do." Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw did know her rather well in that sense.

"Yes, ma'am, I will," Kennedy said firmly, reaching up to wipe at the beads of sweat still trickling down her face - whether from the stress still circulating her body or the idea of Margie there on a cot, unconscious, she wasn't sure, "you do the same." Annie watched her with a smile before reaching up to squeeze her shoulder.

"I will, Farley," she said, before patting her shoulder, "and wash up. A few of the girls were planning on heading to the flying club tonight. Destress and all." Kennedy smiled softly and nodded.

"Will do." she said and Annie smiled before turning and heading off - leave it to Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw to instill what comfort they all needed after something like that. Birdie used to do much of the same - Annie even had the same look in her eye as Birdie usually did after a mission. Kennedy smiled slightly.

"Sergeant Farley." The achingly familiar voice struck her system and she turned to her left to find Major Egan walking towards her, as she watched him approach with that slow, even and swaggering gait, his crusher cap a bit lopsided on his head, sweat dropping down the sides of his face, as he wore that stupid, beige sheepskin jacket that she had offhandedly made fun of him for that one time (and proceeded to rub in her face ever since).

"Sir." she said, saluting him quickly as he came to a stop in front of her and shook his head, reaching up to bring her arm down from the position she'd taken up.

"Nah, nah, don't worry about that bullshit," he said and she raised her brows, "Harlowe. Sergeant Harlowe - is she good? Is she alright?" Kennedy stared at him, her heart pulsating inside her chest in a way that made her unable to get her breathing entirely under control. She watched him, tilting her head to the side and then managed to find her footing.

"Not entirely, but she's alive," she said firmly, with a nod, "flak hit up top. Or….stray bullets. Either way, she was hit and knocked out. But she's fine now." Kennedy watched him as she spoke, his eyes refusing to leave her own as he stared down at her, his larger-than-life presence soaking up every part of the view in front of her, the worry in his eyes, covered with that joking nature a slight surprise and the deep breaths he was taking enough to make her fail at controlling her own.

"And yourself?" he asked her, the corner of his lips poking upwards, a smile fighting to be on his face.

"Me? Sir, I, uh, I'm fine," she said quickly, sputtering a bit like a small child, "I'm fine seriously-"

"Good, good," he said quickly - they were pretty quick with whatever they seemed to be talking about here, "just…..when the planes came back and Harding said something about Silver Bullets taking a hit, I thought…..thought the whole goddamn plane had gone down from the way he was fucking talking so." She stared at him. He stopped talking and then stared at her, before running a hand over his face and nodding to her. She stared back at him, unsure of what to say.

For probably the first time in a long time, looking at him, she did not know what to say. This panicked approach to this sudden stillness and quiet. There were voices all around them, nurses bustling about with medics and doctors, and pilots with their crews meandering away from interrogation like limp horses, dragging gear that was nothing but a pile of garbage behind them. And the smells - like gasoline, smoke and death wafted through the air, enough to make a person want to vomit. She needed to go see Margie, and she was beyond sure that Major Egan had somewhere better to be as well. Kennedy wanted to move her feet, but she couldn't. No part of her was moving or even ready to move. Major Egan was stock-still in front of her as well.

"Is there….something else, uh, sir?" Kennedy didn't know what to do with Major Egan sometimes - call him sir, but he told her not to bother? Call him sir because he was the one who held rank? Major Egan continued to watch her and then ran a hand down his slightly sweaty face and shook his head.

"No." he said quickly, firmly, "You should get a check on Sergeant Harlowe. Make sure she's alright when she wakes up." If she wakes up, Kennedy thought, but that sour idea in her mind disappeared as Major Egan nodded to her. She stared at him for a moment longer, before she slowly nodded to him, turning away from him. She took a few steps before she could hear his footsteps and feel the placement of his hand wrapped around her elbow.

"Farley," he said, his voice quieter, as she stopped her paces and turned, her eyes searching his own as she looked at him, "seriously, you alright?" She stared at him, slightly surprised at the way his voice had grown softer, his eyes less vibrant than normal.

"Yes," she told him, but as he tilted his head towards her, she felt her heart race a bit faster than normal and couldn't help but take a shaky step back from him, "it was just a lot today that's all. But it's a lot every day. Nothing new. Can't complain." Major Egan watched her, like he was trying to diagnose whatever the fuck was currently wrong with her, acting like she didn't just watch their flight engineer and closest companion almost die.

"You like the jacket?" he asked her quietly, and it didn't take long for what stress she had in her mind and heart to roll back into that violent ocean crawl of waves and a small laugh to leave her lips.

"Is that why you came waltzing over here?" she asked him, her voice low, as she crossed her arms, "Because if that's all this was about, I'm just going to head to the Med-Bay now." Major Egan let out a dry chuckle and looked to her.

"And if I told you it was?"

"I would happily discard that jacket for you, even start a bonfire." she said, "We could get real fancy." She stared at him. "It looks ridiculous."

"You sure about that?" he said, popping up the collar, which made her roll her eyes, "I think it fits me pretty well."

"I would beg to differ," she said, "seriously, an A-2 would do you one better."

"You going sweet on me, Farley?"

"Since when did that idea get into your head?"

"You like me in my A-2, admit it."

"It would look better than that shitty thing."

"C'mon, Farley, don't leave me hangin' now." She raised a brow at him as she crossed her arms across her chest and smirked his way.

"Goodbye, John." she said, with a grin, turning away, only to have him placing his hand on her shoulder and turning her back around. She looked up at him.

"For someone so hellbent on making his rounds, you sure seem to like hanging around me." she said quietly, with a small smile, watching as his eyes seemed to twinkle in the hazy afternoon sunlight.

"Consider it a compliment." he offered her.

"A compliment?" she said with a small smile, "Didn't know you handed those out. And for free?"

"Farley…." he said with a slight groan in his voice that made her laugh as she reached forward and nudged his shoulder.

"It's okay to admit that, Margie says I'm a grand friend to have anyway," she said, watching his gaze soften at her, "it means a lot, truly."

"Friend's a word." he said with a shrug, his face tensing up slightly as she stared at him.

"Yeah." she said, with a nod, "And so is goodbye." He stared at her and she smiled up at him.

"I'm only kidding," she said, before her face fell a bit, "seriously, you okay? You weren't even on the mission and you look seriously fucked up." Kennedy had hoped that keeping up with this banter, this light-hearted, dare she call it flirting, maybe would lift his worrisome and lonely spirits, but he seemed drawn into himself and concave again and she wasn't sure what more to say.

Hey, even going as far to compliment his physique's correlation to an A-2 was pretty nice of her!

And something she wasn't actually lying about - not like she had spent too long staring at his broad shoulders over breakfast the other day (but no one except her knew).

"Didn't know you handed out compliments with a side of self-degradation, now huh?" he said and she let out a scoff and crossed her arms to look at him again.

"Seriously, John, what's wrong?"

"You can call me, Bucky, remember?"

"John."

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing, just…." he looked around, that lazy smile on his face, and looked back at her, hands rested on those hips of his again and looked to her, "does anything have to be wrong when I come to talk to you?"

"Usually there is something wrong."

"Kennedy-"

"Alright, look," she said, "if you don't budge, I'm gonna head to the Med-Bay, check in on Margie." She was playing her emotions really well, so well she had almost forgotten the mission altogether.

"So, you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to decode it from you myself? Beg on my hands and knees? Don't make me look that pathetic." Major Egan watched her with a slight smirk and she shoved his shoulder again.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like whattt?" he said as she rolled her eyes with a laugh, "Oh, c'mon, Kennedy, I'm supposed to hear that Silver Bullets took a hit and not think about you?"

Kennedy's smile dropped and it seemed the realization hit Major Egan at the same time and for a moment, they were just standing there, staring at each other like deer in headlights. She couldn't look away from his eyes, because for the first time there was something more than besides his usually flirty, joking self. Hell, that was just how he normally was - no stake in the ground with a soul, moving with the wind, taking him where the Lord put him, all that bullshit. For a second, she almost thought she wasn't hearing him straight and was going to leave it at that. But no, he'd said that and she was sure her face matched the color of her dirtied ginger hair and her strawberry-blonde ends.

"Egan!" The two turned from each other, in what had been a…rather intense stare down and found Crank coming towards him, "Harding needs us!"

"Give me a fucking second, Crank! I'm talking here!" Major Egan yelled back before turning to her and gulping, before parting his lips as if to speak. She stared at him still, unable to find the words that would amount to much of anything.

"Don't give me lip, Bucky - look, we gotta go!" Major Egan turned.

"Just a minute, Crank, seriously." Major Egan called out before turning to her still stood there.

"You really should go." she finally said, her voice somewhat hoarse as she did so, like she couldn't get the words out right, "Colonel Harding-"

"I don't care what Harding thinks right now," he said firmly looking at her, "look, Farley, I-"

"It's fine." she said quickly, plastering on a smile quickly and a nod, "I'm fine." Major Egan looked far from convinced in that moment. Because she wasn't convinced herself.

He had heard Silver Bullets took a hit and suspected immediately it was her?

That's why he had looked at her like that?

In interrogation?

She wasn't much to him, so she thought, at least - what…the few conversations they'd share? She'd practically egged him on into conversations about baseball where it was less of a discussion and more of a debate. If anything, he should've heard Silver Bullets and suspected about Annie or Francis.

"Go on," she said, shoving down her feelings and emotions, offering a small smile, "Colonel Harding sounds like he really needs to talk to you. Plus, if you must continue to talk about your stupid sheepskin, I'll be at the flying club later. Maybe I'll even beat you in darts. Again." Major Egan stared at her, for the first time, a little wordless and nodded.

"Kennedy, I-"

"It's fine." she said, convincing herself the very same - if she acted like she didn't hear it from his lips, then it never happened. He never said those words, never looked at her like that, never even bothered to tell her he was worried about her after hearing about Silver Bullets getting hit. If she ignored it, it wasn't what had happened.

And it was better that way.

"Bucky-"

"A second, Crank, please!" Major Egan yelled over his shoulder again, before looking at her and sighing, jabbing a thumb behind him.

"I gotta…." he started, his words fading as he managed a weak smile at her.

"Yeah, yeah," she said quickly, with a nod, and a forced smile.

"Let me know how Harlowe is…?"

"I will." she said as he began to backpedal backwards, his eyes holding hers still. Then, she watched Crank come up to Major Egan's shoulder and spin him around before pointing and frantically talking. Then they were walking away and disappeared. Kennedy stood there like the wind had just been taken out of her sail. Why'd she act like that?

"Hey! Kenny!" Kennedy turned and found Judy coming up to her, with Bessie and Carrie behind her, splitting a few cookies in their hands, "Here you are. We thought we couldn't find you." Kennedy stared at Judy, who came up beside her, with bright eyes, before looking to Bessie and Carrie, who shared a look before looking at Kennedy.

"You alright, Farley?" Bessie asked her, glancing in the general direction of where Major Egan had wandered off to, "What'd Bucky want?" Kennedy snapped into her usual collected self (which took far more effort today than usual) and ran a hand over her hair, cringing at bit at the smell of oil and grease that followed - which undoubtedly Major Egan had smelled - and sighed.

"Heard about Margie." she said firmly, cooly, kind of quick at that, like she couldn't get the words out fast enough to cover her ass, "He knows we're close and wanted to check in. Make sure things were okay."

"Always sticking his nose into all our bullshit," Carrie muttered, crunching off a piece of the sugar cookie and shaking her head, "you know I heard the other day he was trying to ask Bradshaw for a tour of Silver Bullets. Next thing you know, I'm tearing into him, telling him he touches my area, my shit, it's over for him-"

"He just wanted to make sure she was okay, Bergie," Kennedy said with a shrug, "guess it just gets old, hearing about losing people. Over and over."

"Especially someone from Silver Bullets." Judy finished for her, "Bucky's always been sweet as peaches to me, anyway. It's mighty kind of him to come and check up on you. Knowing how close you two are. He's got an awful soft-spot for Silver Bullets."

"Some soft spot." Carrie said with a slight chuckle and smirk, glancing at Kennedy, who rolled her eyes, ignoring the looks, and glanced back to the direction of where Major Egan had gone.

"Let's go to the Med-Bay," Judy said, "I'm sure Margie would want to see us when she wakes."

"What this face?" Carrie said, "We all look like sorry excuses for circus clowns."

"At least a little flak never scared off that charisma, Bergie." Bessie said as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the whole group burst into chuckles as they headed towards the Med-Bay, sharing cookies and smiles.

But all that was on her mind, until the hit the Med-Bay doors was that Major Egan had thought of her, when Silver Bullets was said to have gotten a nasty hit.

Her.

[chastiefoul]

regret | alhaitham

a/n: a very messy drabble based on some idea that popped into my head. basically about a y/n who's very in touch with their feelings vs alhaitham handling those feelings (to nobody's surprise, it didn't end well)

tags: angstyyy

part 2 here

1.5k words

to say that you get along with alhaitham would be a stretch.

anyone would agree that your interactions consisted only of you always pestering him and alhaitham barely tolerating it. this causes amusement but also worries, you both being the polar opposites and all.

the arrogant and cold scribe versus the bright and cheery you. there’s a line, a wall if you will; that made everyone wondered, how long would the strange dynamic last before something eventually went wrong.

and it finally did.

❀

hanging out with kaveh is something of a routine, with you studying the same subject; architecture. people were always naturally drawn to you, kaveh wasn’t the exception. you both get along with each other pretty quickly, and he’s been a close friends since. you even got to know alhaitham through him.

alhaitham said once, that you both were pretty similar albeit with different words—or to quote him as he spoke with such exasperation, “archons, now there are two of them.” still however alike, he quietly also thought there’s a key difference, a very apparent contrast that he couldn’t help but notice, even he didn’t try to.

you and kaveh both were very in touch with your emotions, meaning all of your actions often solely driven by feelings. although with kaveh he wasn’t ashamed of this, always stating clearly—or unnecessarily,  if something had upset him. but you on the other hand chose to hide that displeasure, masking it with an uncertain smile, one that’s clearly forced. as though wanting to halt any further argument. that somehow infuriated alhaitham.  

everyday you would always greet him without any care in the world. even though every conversation you had with alhaitham, somehow always turned into something he had to won, that he had to have the last word. he also couldn’t figure it out himself what got him so worked up every time he talked to you.

❀

“kaveh, don’t you think alhaitham is a nice person?” one a peaceful lunch you asked. he shot you a disgusted look, as if the question had offended him. “are you in your right mind?” he quickly retorted. “well despite him looking so fed up and all that, he still talk to us, doesn’t he?” you played your food with your fork. “... and that’s why he’s ‘nice’? dear god the bar is in hell—no it’s even below the devil’s foot itself.” he sighed, really couldn’t believing his ear. what got you so infatuated with him anyway? in all honesty kaveh was having a hard time remembering if there was ever a time where alhaitham was nice to you, he only recalled your cheery attitude getting shot down by alhaitham’s apathy every single time.

wait. he knew what this is.

“you like him.” kaveh suddenly said. you couldn’t turn your head to him any quicker. “what?” you panicked. “you heard me. now i just need to hear you admitting it.” there’s a playful smile on kaveh’s face, he’s teasing. “you won’t, cause i don’t.” you said, trying hard to be calm while eating your food. “mmhm,” kaveh hummed knowingly, an annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you know what? i don’t have to listen to this, i’m leaving.” you pouted, gathering your stuff. “yes, and you know what your in-denial self should listen to instead? me.”

“shut up!”

❀

“good morning, alhaitham!” you greeted him per usual with high energy. he hummed a reply, acknowledging your presence. when you just lingered there showing no sign of leaving he sighed. “how many times do i have to tell you my office is not a playground where you can hang around however you please?” he asked, preparing to sort out the documents from the fresh pile that just came. “i was just—nevermind that, do you need any help?” you asked with a smile. however the harmless question just tick something unpleasant inside of the scribe, he knew you meant well, truly he knew that. “do i look like someone who’s incapable of doing my own job?” he questioned in a cold tone.

“of course not! i just thought since i was a little free-“

“right. you thought, that never went well though, did it?” the viciousness was out of nowhere, you were caught off guard.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you narrowed your eyes at the harsh words—like he was saying that you were some kind of an idiot. he was always ill-tempered towards you, but he didn’t need to be this harsh over a mere offer to help.

alhaitham could feel he was being unreasonably mean, but he just couldn’t stand it. your useless kindness, your warmth, your concerns over his well-being all of these were so strange for him and his initial reaction was to reject and mock them. alhaitham felt like he was above it, it was too troublesome. he was fine living up to this point without the concerns from other people, and he was sure as hell he wasn’t going to start not being fine without it anytime soon.

 “why do you always think i need help? or do i need someone to remind me when to have my meal, or telling me to be conscious of my sleep schedule? frankly, it made me very uncomfortable,” once he started he felt like he couldn’t stop. alhaitham was mad, but if someone had asked him why he also wouldn’t be able to find the words to explain. he just was.

“well excuse me for trying to look out for my friend!” you raised your voice.

“friend? i never once thought of you that way,” he said. that shut you up real quick. the confession left your mouth agape, your chest ached. just what you are to him then, for the past half-year? but then when you think about it again, when has he exactly treat you as if you were something more of an acquaintance? in the end it was on you to assume, but it still hurts nonetheless.

in the brief silence alhaitham found the answer as to why was he so aggravated every time he talked to you.

alhaitham was blunt, he was ruthless in commenting on things that are out of place according to him. he was arrogant, often thinking that he’s above everything else, this include his way of life. a life of solitude; without the need of other people. but then you came, and his principles was shaken. alhaitham was a lot of things, but none would say that he’s fickle. yet, his rage right that second was a living proof that perhaps alhaitham was never the winner of those meaningless conversations he had with you. that truthfully, you already had him at the first good morning greeting you had given him with a bright smile.

and that is alhaitham’s hardest pill to swallow. you, a single person managed to make him almost change his entire life principles he had believed his whole life. and that’s as terrifying as it is infuriating to him. he couldn’t let you sway him more than this.

after what felt like eternity you finally responded.

“there’s a limit to being heartless, don’t you think?” you weakly said, you don’t even know what you were hoping for as a reply honestly. “there’s also should be a limit to your groundless assumptions.” he didn’t even look at you as he said these things, which perhaps good since you seriously couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

you had never believed rumors about people, as you will never know the truth unless you verify it yourself. but there, standing quietly as your tears wet the floor; there was no denying it anymore, alhaitham was indeed a heartless man who has zero empathy towards other living being.

“maybe i was wrong about you, alhaitham.” you smiled sadly.

it’s better this way.

“you were. now if you don’t mind, i have work to do.” he stated firmly, meaning: get out. which you will do gladly once you said your piece.

“it’ll do you good in the future to not be so driven by your emotions,” he still thought he was in a position to lecture you.

“yeah? and it’ll do you to good get off your high horse once in a damn while, you’re not fucking better than everybody else, alhaitham.”

“maybe so, but i certainly know i’m above acting solely over any emotion i’ve felt in the moment. i stopped doing that after i turned six, actually.” to think he'd mock you for crying.

“fuck you, alhaitham. enjoy your ‘alone’ time, i hope it stays that way forever.” you walked away from his office, swearing to yourself that it will be the last time you set foot on that damn place. alhaitham rarely see you frown, and to see you that angry and he was the cause of it.. silence got the better of him, the insides of his chest was swirling, he wasn't sure what to feel.

when your footsteps was finally out of hearing, alhaitham brought his palm to his face, his emotions getting the better of him. he saw the the hurt in your face, it was beyond saving. there’s nothing he could possibly say or do to get you to forgive him. and that was his intention of course, to get you to hate him. but he never thought he’d be ready for that.

alhaitham days quickly returned to the monotous routine. a quiet cycle, he thought he loved that. it's easy to realize that he did not anymore.

he's already so used to you. he kept waiting for you every morning, maybe if he wished hard enough you’d forget everything and just came back like nothing happened. but those days didn’t come, the memory quickly turns into anguish but more than that, regret.

aside from his ego, perhaps this regret is also something he would take to his grave.

-

part 2 maybe??

[minihotdog]

Whose Wife Is This?

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.

a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*

word count: 1k

***

John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.

Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties. 

“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.

“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”

Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”

“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.

“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?” 

***

The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.

He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.

He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.

He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-

Wait a second?

He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.

He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.

Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.

“John?”

He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.

“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”

He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.

He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.

“Love, what are you doing in my house?” 

“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.

If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”

He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Day 12: Office Sex

♤♡-Pairs: Neuvillette x gn!reader

☆☆-Warnings: semi-public(someone's in the room), desk sex, stressed neuvi, male anatomy (for neuvi), dragon-like cock, cum, needy and messy neuvi, enjoy bbs (:

It could be said that the Chief Justice worked hard and nonstop. Rarely did he ever get the time for the two of you to enjoy eachothers company let alone time for intimate moments. He felt bad, but you always reassured him that you understood. That you wouldn't have agreed to date him otherwise. But with this, came...ideas and little experiments. Though he didn't have the time, you two sure made some. It was unconventional but honestly? It was hot. And after having not been touched for at least a decade, he couldn't be bothered to care.

Currently, he had you tucked underneath his desk. Your face a mess of cum and spit, licking fervently at his ribbed cock. His face was stoic, safe for a slight tinge of red on his cheeks. And honestly he should be listening to the officer, they were discussing a very important case right now. But the way your warm mouth wrapped around him again, he couldn't help it. His hand was tangled in your hair as he nodded, doing his best to pretend he was listening. He would just read the report later, it was fine.

"Monsieur Neuvillette..?" He blinked. Guess he spaced out more than he thought. "Apologies, another matter is on my mind. Leave the documents on the desk and I'll review them later." The officer nodded, doing as he instructed before leaving. Neuvillette rolled back, looking down at your form in between his thighs. His gloved hand rubbing at your cheek. "You're servicing me so well, but I know you're needy to. Come up from there."

He watched as you let go of him with a pop, rising to your feet. Turning slowly before laying yourself across his desk. He sucked in a breath, standing now as he rubbed at your ass. "Is this how you want it?" When you nodded, a small smile played on his lips. With a firm grasp, he guided himself inside you. And watched as his thick, ribbed cock split you open. Engulfing him so sweetly that he had to pause a few times so he didn't cum. No matter how many times you do this, he's just as sensitive as the first. "So warm," he commented, rubbing the flesh of your ass. Feeding more of himself inside you, he eventually bottomed out. Hissing as beads of sweat already formed on his brow. "Hold onto the table. You'll need something to ground you."

Pride swelled in his chest as he watched you do exactly as he said. And he didn't waste anytime either. His hips pulled and snapped forward, setting a delicious pace for the evening. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Mixing with the groaning of the desk, the papers being scattered and falling to the floor. A perfect melody, he thought. Accompanied sweetly with your moans and his whines. Praises falling from his parted lips. It honestly wouldn't take him long, you had been sucking at his cock for a good hour. In that hour, you'd made him cum twice. He was close just as the officer had left the room. "Hold tight, my love. I'm cuming." He voiced, his hands grabbing your hips as he sped up. His dick pulsating inside you until one particular thrust had him filling your insides. Neuvillette let out a pathetic moan as he rested against your back. Breathing heavily, his lips ghosting against your skin.

"Let's clean you up." He murmured, always making sure to take good care of you after these moments.

Masterlist

Prev. ☆ Next.

[another-random-paradise]

Hey!! I was wondering if i could request what you think some housewardens would be like with a S/O who makes a lot of references? Whether it's anime, video game, pop culture etc etc, I don't mind which ones you choose as long as Idia is there!! Thanks :D ur underrated

A man of culture

Thank you so much for the request and the kind words, it really makes my day <3 I mostly kept the references vague, because as much as i love them, i am horrible at coming up with them- Hope you enjoy!

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

Reader makes a lot of references

Characters: Idia, Malleus, Cater

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Idia

-You're on a somewhat big bolder, looking down at him "It's Over, Anakin, I Have the High Ground!" He is down on one knee with a ring, Or at least he would be were he not way to socially anxious he is so in love with you it is unbelievable

-Because it would most likely mean that you not only make references, but would also understand his! He won't have to switch to normie language nor constantly explain everything!!

-I feel like he'd be a lot more comfortable around you, because he feels more 'normal' with you; he knows you won't judge him for his word choice nor his interested, because you do the same!

-Of course his social anxiety won't disappear completely, he is still anxious around you, especially because your important to him, and there might be some days were it's worse and needs time to himself, that of course won't change that he loves you and tries to be as open as he can be with you (Speaking from experience here lol)

-If you two are dating/really close, he'll let you still chill in his room, even during some of his worser days, just don't expect much conversation. 

-Don't be afraid to look over and make a joke or reference based on what he's currently watching/playing, you'll make his day! He might not reply, but you can hear him laugh :)

-On his better days, chances are the two of you are having a date in his room, watching anime or playing video games in wich he definitely won't get competitive, noooo while eating snack and you're just almost exclusively talking in references, just going back and forth-

-In fact, not just during dates, during the few times he is outside it would be the same!.. much to your friends dismay, because most of the time, they can't understand a word you say. Cater might understand one or two from pop culture or if they're popular memes but that's about it

-Ortho also understands because he can just look it up! He very much approves of the two of you, because thanks to you, his brother is outside AND smiling for more than a few seconds, that's an absolute win in his book! :)

Malleus

-He doesn't understand a word you're saying, but he loves you anyway.

-Most of the time he just lets you say your references, happy you're comfortable enough around him to be yourself, even it confuses him!

-If the reference directly impacts the conversation though, or if one just happened to catch his interest. He'll listens very intensely to your explanation, almost scarily so! Not that you would ever find him truly scary <3

-You'd probably hold back from making to many references around him, not wanting to confuse him. When he finds out, he tells you not to. He wants you to be able to be your authentic self, and if he gets to ramble about gargoyles to you, then it's only fair that you get to make as many references as you want, no? He just needs some explanation some times

-That gives you an idea! You make a slideshow about the most common/popular, as well as your favorites, to show to him!.. Turns out he doesn't know what a slideshow is, but he is intrigued!

-So now you have a date teaching him how to make slideshows and help him make one about gargoyles! Now you have a slideshow date at least once a week, where you explain refrences and he talks about slideshows :)

-He is actually really happy about it, it shows your comfortable enough to be yourself around him and your slideshows lets him understand a bit of modern media, making it just a tad bit easier to get along with his classmates!  

Cater

-He either gets all of them or none of them; it really depends on the type of references tbh

-If it's pop culture, then he would get most of it, you'd be the type of couple who flirts through references and memes

-Half of his tweets would just be stuff like "[Insert popular hot character] ain't got nothing on my s/o" and his fans have a field trip every time. He'd also sends you like a bunch of memes and "Happy spouse, Happy life" videos

-So if you do the same? He'd love you even more than he already does! He really loves all your references that he does get, they never fail to make him laugh! You two would just be out and about, till you spot a dog that can jump very high, "Oh wow, that dog can jump higher than super Mario himself." You look to your side and see cater giggling to himself, a genuine smile on his face   

-And if you compliment him through references? Suddenly, he is very flustered!

-It might take him a while to accept the compliments though; You can't tell me he isn't actually insecure behind that influencer act. But once he does, he'll be a flustered mess every time, stuttering while trying to come up with an equally flirty comeback, BUT once he gets used to it, you two will absolutely go back and forth trying to out-reference-complement each other

-If it's anime or video game references, i feel like it'd be a bit different, since he would probably not get them unless they're really mainstream- I don't see him too invested in stuff like that 

-He'll still encourage you though, because he adores the how you'll excitedly compare something to your favorite scene, or how monotonly you'll compare someones stupidity to a character that's known for their stupidity 

-He loves it all, even those that he doesn't understand :)

This was so fun to write!! also, first time writing Cater, kinda nervous

Feedback is welcome, just be nice :)

hope you have a nice day/night!!

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt. 2

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1

Warnings: none, this is a pretty relaxed chapter

WC: 2.8k

A/N: thank you so much for the support on what is now Part 1. Due to how many people requested a continuation of this fic, I figured I’d go for it! This is more of a filler/plot mover part of the story. There will be at least one more part that will be a lot more interesting but if there’s enough interest and I have the ideas, maybe it’ll be many more parts.

It had been a couple weeks since you had talked with Jessie on the field in San Diego. You haven't heard anything from her, not that you were expecting to after she had told you she had a lot on her plate. Not hearing from her had bothered you a bit in the beginning, thoughts of her constantly popping up in your mind. She was a minor distraction. As time went on and you didn’t hear from her you went back to the way you had been before you had seen her. You were able to brush off the thoughts of her easily, getting back into your routine as if you hadn’t even seen her.

Something deep down hoped you’d wake up to a text from her. That hope diminished as the days passed. It wasn't until the week before your team was supposed to take the trip to Portland to play that you heard from her.

Unknown: Hey, this is well overdue but I just wanted to apologize, I was rude to you after the gold cup game. Not an excuse but I was in a pretty rough state. Thanks for what you said too.

Unknown: by the way this is Jessie, I had to get a new number to use in the US. Feel free to delete my UK number. Keep the Canada one, I still use that.

Unknown: I got your number from Coffey.

Unknown: Hope that’s okay. You can just delete this number if you’d rather.

Reading her texts made you smile and let out a small laugh, she texted exactly how she would talk. You can practically hear her voice while reading through the texts, how she probably sat there overthinking each text only to then feel guilty for not just double or triple but quadruple texting you. You clicked on her number, changing her name in your phone to Jessie (USA).

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard as you thought about responding. Deciding against replying at the moment, you lock your phone again and climb out of bed. You throw on your clothes for training then head to your kitchen to make a quick breakfast and coffee.

Training was rough. It was less that the physical workout was hard, it had actually been a lighter day being only 2 days away from game day. It was rough because you couldn't focus.

Your mind kept drifting to the few texts you had received from Jessie. Had she been thinking about you all these weeks? Why did she wait so long? Maybe she was only thinking about you since you would be seeing her this weekend. But maybe she was thinking of you for other reasons. Maybe she was ready to start being friends? Maybe you could end up as more? All the thoughts related to her were swarming around your head, leading you to be in a fog at practice.

It was embarrassing to say the least, missing touches, overpowering or underpowering your passes, even tripping over your own feet a couple times. After you had fallen to your knees while doing individual dribbling drills, for the third time that day at practice Quinn stepped over to you extending their hand.

“Are you good?” Concern in their eyes as they pulled you up.

“Yeah, just in my own head today.” trying to give a convincing smile shaking your head at your own behavior. You had managed to push Jessie so far back in your mind for years, why was she messing with you now.

“Alright, if you need to talk let me know, or go see the psychologist. The team has them for a reason. We need you to stay on your feet Saturday.” They pat you on the back and go back to finish their dribbling drill.

“Thanks.” You gave Quinn a smile, knowing damn well you wouldn't bring yourself to talk with them. They were one of the best listeners on the team and had heard out your other issues, anxieties and just general venting. There was no way you were going to talk to Quinn about their own national team teammate. You didn’t need it coming back to Jessie that she was on your mind.

You were so thankful when you were called to huddle up and end practice. Heading back to the locker room you peeled your sweaty jersey off, throwing a sweatshirt on instead, grabbing your phone and heading to the trainer’s room. You greeted the staff, walking over to the ice bath and hopping in. The icy water causes goosebumps to appear across your skin. It felt good, you knew it would, you often would use a cold shower to clear your mind, but this counted as your recovery as well so it was a bonus. You stripped off your sweatshirt leaving you standing shivering in your sports bra. You took a deep breath and let your knees give, sinking your whole body under the water.

Under the water was peaceful, quiet, the freezing water causing your brain to go blank, no thoughts of the bad training, no thoughts of Jessie, no thoughts of what to make for dinner tonight, nothing. So you waited, sitting on the bottom of the tub prolonging your peace. Running out of air, you resurfaced to find a few teammates and members of the training staff to be looking at you. Feeling suddenly self conscious you grabbed your sweatshirt throwing it back on. “What?” you harshly asked in the general direction of your teammates. None of them responding, shaking their heads or just looking away.

Before you could make it out of the locker room you heard your name called and saw your coach standing behind you.

“Can you come to my office before you head out?” She asked.

“Yeah no problem, just give me a second to change my shorts, I’ll be right up.” You tried to appear calm on the outside. On the inside you were stressing. Why did she need to talk to you, maybe you were being traded and you'd be able to dodge Jessie longer. Maybe she was taking you off the travel roster, maybe she was going to yell at you for your performance today. You quickly changed into some dry pants and walked over and into the coaching office.

“Go ahead and shut the door.” She pointed behind you when you walked in. Her words make your stomach sink. You sat down, not saying anything, just looking at her across the desk. She finishes up something on the computer, hitting the power button and turning back to face you. She taps her hands on the desk and starts talking. “Look, I’m going to tread lightly here, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Your best attempt at a smile comes across your face.

“You realize why I have to ask, right?” you just nod at her question. “I don't mean to be crass but that was the worst practice you've had since you started here. I get it, everyone has an off day, but that to me looked like a lot more than just an off day.”

“I’m good, I just had a bit on my mind.” She wasn't telling you anything you didn't know but hearing her criticism of your performance hurt, you didn't want to disappoint her.

“Do I need to take you off of our roster for this weekend's game?”

“No!” You're quick to protest her offer. “I promise, I’ll have it sorted by then.” Not sure if you're trying to convince yourself or your coach at this point you keep talking. “You can count on me.”

“I want to believe that, I do. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt on this one, I’ll leave you on the roster, we really need you for this game, but I’d rather not put you out there if your performance is going to look like it did today.”

“Yes Coach, I understand. I’ll be good.”

She turns back to a stack of papers, grabbing off a small slip from the top. She hands it to you, you look at it recognizing the name and contact information of the team’s sports psychologist and the team’s standard psychologist. “Take this, I’m not saying you need to talk to anyone, but it's good information to always have.”

You look up from the paper, thinking it's silly how now two people had recommended that you needed professional help, all over the fact that you had a silly little crush on an old teammate.

“Thanks Coach, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You stood up pushing in the chair behind you, leaving her office. You walked down the hallway back toward the locker room to grab your bag. Before you head out you quickly pack your travel back, throwing in your boots, shin pads, extra socks, tape before dropping the bag at the front of the room where your teammates had placed theirs. You moved back

Part of you cursed Jessie for reaching out, you had been able to push your thoughts of her back in your mind after you had talked but now that she had reached out she was back in the forefront. Opening your phone as you walked out of the training facility, you opened your messages and clicked on Jessie’s name. You opened her contact, frustrated from your performance at practice and causing your coach to consider benching you, you wanted to blame it on her. You hover your finger over the delete button. You then moved your thumb to where it read Block This Number. Before you could think twice you pressed it, the messages from her disappearing, no trace of her new number on your phone. While you were at it you proceeded to delete her number from the UK. You left her Canadian number, she never used that one to talk to you, no harm in it staying. You were hoping blocking her new number would also block the thoughts of her.

You learned very quickly though the night that if anything, blocking her number made Jessie more prominent in your mind. She was in your mind while you drove home. You thought about her while you stood under the cold water of your shower, she was in your mind while you cooked. Trying to distract yourself you grabbed a book and the book worked. It kept Jessie out of your mind until you realized how much you liked the book, one of the best ones you had read in a while. You decided to open GoodReads, immediately closing it when the first thing you saw upon opening the app was Jessie’s name, she had recently rated a book. You had forgotten that you were even friends on the app, you hadn't read or rated a book in a long time. Deciding you’ve had enough, you pull yourself off the couch and into the bedroom to try and get some sleep.

Setting your alarm for the next morning, you climbed into bed, deciding to count sheep to prevent your mind from wandering. It took many minutes of tossing and turning before you were able to fall asleep. Despite the long day you had mentally and physically, sleep did not come easy. Unfortunately, once you were asleep, you didn’t stay asleep long, feeling restless when you woke up for the fourth time that night, the sky was still dark outside. You roll over checking the time 3:18am. Still half asleep you reach for your phone, sliding it open. Squinting at the bright light you find your settings, opening your list of blocked numbers, finding Jessie’s you click unblock. You open your messages, type in her name and then a message.

You: No problem, see you Saturday.

You're not sure what you're saying no problem to, if it's because she apologized, if it's because she thanked you for talking to her or if it's to the fact that she had asked Sam for your number. Sleep is still fogging your brain. You hit send, shut off your phone and roll over hoping you can get some more sleep before your alarm wakes you.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. You gave yourself an extra hour in the morning to pack before you had to meet at the stadium to travel. You threw on your travel sweats and shirt before throwing an assortment of sweatpants, t-shirts, and shorts into a bag, not caring what you packed for the 3 day trip. Moving into the bathroom you packed your toiletries, before heading back to your bedroom to grab your phone and the charger.

Jessie (USA): See you Saturday.

You do a double take at the message, last remembering that you had blocked her number. You open it, seeing that you, in fact, had not blocked her but instead you had texted her at 3 in the morning. “Oh you idiot,” you insulted yourself. You threw your phone in your pocket while packing your charger in your bag.

It wasn't long until you were sitting on the bus, stretching your body across two seats, trying to get comfortable. The buses had to be one of the most uncomfortable parts of playing, unfortunately Portland was considered too close to justify a plane ride. You were reading over the itinerary that had been handed out. You were scheduled for a light practice this evening followed by designated stretching and recovery time, then it was dinner and lights out. Looking to Saturday you saw the early arrival time, the game starting at Noon, pitch walk just before that, and time to warm up. After the game you had recovery for an hour followed by the words “Free Time” It wasn't uncommon for you to get freetime after game days when you were traveling, it was nice to explore where you were playing or just getting to hang out, unregulated, with your teammates. Sunday consisted of a practice in the morning, then more free time, followed by the bus ride back in the evening. The large amount of free time on this trip caught your eye, giving you an idea as you dig your phone out from your pocket. You open it to Jessie’s messages again and start typing.

You: If you're up for it, dinner Saturday night?

You realize that feels a bit forward, adding a second message.

You: You can bring a teammate too if you want, it doesn't just have to be us.

Seconds after you send it you see the bubble indicating Jessie is typing pop up, you lock your phone and toss it as if it's on fire into the seat that your legs are resting on. You feel it vibrate against your calf, indicating she had responded. Instead of reaching for your phone you remain still, staring at it. It’s only once the phone vibrates again reminding you that you had a text that you reach and pick it up. Involuntarily you hold your breath and turn on the screen.

Jessie (USA): That would be nice.

The gray bubble appears again.

Jessie (USA): just us

You let the air out of your chest, feeling relieved at her response. She wanted to see you. She wanted to see you, just the two of you. A smile grows on your face as you read over her messages again and again.

You: sounds good, may need some recommendations on dinner locations

This time when you see her typing you hold onto your phone. Watching as the bubble appears for a few seconds before disappearing and reappearing

Jessie (USA): I’ll figure something out and let you know

You begin to type out “sounds like a date” before deciding that it’s a little too forward, against it, deleting it and changing it.

You: perfect!

You waited, seeing if she would respond, not that there was much to respond to but part of you hoped she’d say something else. When she doesn't you shut off your phone. You lean your head back so it rests against the window and you're looking at the ceiling of the bus. You let out a sigh of relief. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest for the first time in two days. You now knew she didn't completely hate you, you knew she was willing to let you talk with her again.

Feeling last night's lack of sleep catches up with you, your eyes close and you’re able to drift peacefully asleep, your brain no longer filled with anxieties or concerns about Jessie, you remain asleep until the bus stops and you hear your teammates gathering their belongings to get off the bus. You were finally in Portland.

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hi! could i req lando x old money!reader blurb? maybe like meeting her parents, or going to her father’s annual christmas gala together, i dunno..

thanks!!

A/N: Hii! Omg I love this idea. Actually it popped up in my brain last summer but I never really wrote it so big thanks for requesting! Let me know if any of you are interested in a part two!

Word count: ~1.8k

Saint Tropez - one of the most popular places in French Riviera. Known for its beautiful weather, sun-kissed beaches and picturesque landscape. Every summer Y/N's family would spend at least a month there. Cruising on a yacht and resting in a mansion could get quite boring when done alone so last summer Y/N's parents invited the Norisses. The two families had been friends since the early 2000s, famously attending many high-society galas and events. Their kids used to know each other but haven't met in a long time due to their hectic lives. Lando would be a bit ashamed to admit but he was excited to spend his summer break there. Being with his parents made him feel like a teenager again. Not only that but also the fact that he couldn't wait to meet Y/N. He had heard about her from his sisters but in fact, has little to no memories of her.

As the families met at the dock, the yacht swaying in the background, the two couples hugged and laughed leaving the young ones to awkwardly greet each other. Y/N, taking off her sunglasses that protected her eyes from the sun reflecting in the blue water, approached with a subtle smile that held a hint of curiosity. She extended her hand, a gesture in a formal but warm manner. "Lando, isn't it?" her melodic voice hit her companion's ears. Lando, with his easy charm and green-blue eyes that would make most of the ladies lose their minds, clasped her hand in a firm yet gentle handshake. "That's right. A pleasure to finally meet you." His words were accompanied by a genuine smile, a sigh of relief.

The first evening brought the families together for a two-family dinner on the yacht's deck. The air was infused with the scent of sea salt and the warm sun was just to set. The table, covered with crystal and silverware, glowed in the soft light of candles. Y/N and Lando found themselves seated next to each other, their parents subtly orchestrating the arrangement. At first, they didn't talk to each other much - focusing mainly on the food and wine while also encouraging their parents to tell some stories from when they were young. The two of them exchanged glances and smiles still waiting for the other one to make the first move. After the last course, as the dessert and coffee reached its end, Lando found a moment to break away. Leaning towards Y/N, he suggested, "Would you care for a stroll around the yacht? The night is too beautiful to be just sitting here.". With a subtle spark in her eyes, Y/N agreed. The two of them excused themselves as they slipped away from their parents.

Under the moonlit sky, Y/N and Lando strolled along the yacht's deck, the soft glow of the ship's lights casting a warm ambience. The Mediterranean breeze whispered through the night, and the distant sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They paused at the railing, the yacht gently rocking beneath them. Y/N leaned on the side, her eyes fixed on the horizon. Lando joined her, the moon casting a silvery glow on his face. As the conversation flowed, they peeled away the layers of their lives, revealing dreams and aspirations. They went from talking about Lando's work to more deep, secret thoughts and feelings. Y/N wanted to avoid the Formula One subject, she knew who he was but didn't want him to think that it was a category she put him in. She spoke about her love for literature, and although Lando didn't have much to say in this field he was more than happy to listen. He found himself getting lost in her beauty as she shared about her passion. The night held an intimacy, a shared exploration of vulnerabilities. Y/N, confessed her love for the quiet moments, the beauty found in simplicity. It was surprising to her when Lando agreed with her "I know I'm rather a fast-paced life guy but I feel like my lifestyle allows me to appreciate moments like this even more". Y/N finally looked up from the shiny waves crashing to the side of the boat to see the man next to her looking at her with admiration. They held eye contact and smiled in silence, the chillness of a summer night ignored. That night they both felt a connection forming between them.

A few days later, as no clouds hung over St. Tropez, Y/N found herself once again on the terrace. Immersed in the embrace of a plush chair, she was captivated by the ending of one of the books she found on a bookshelf. Lando, drawn to the lovely scene, approached with a warm smile. "Mind if I sit here with you?" he asked. "Of course, Lan. Please, join me," Y/N responded, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. As he settled into his chair, warm sunlight washed both of their bodies. Y/N, bookmarking her page, looked up with a soft smile. "Have you read 'The Great Gatsby' before?" Lando shook his head, "No, but I've heard it's a classic. What's it about?". Y/N went on trying not to say too much and Lando listened, captivated by the vivid imagery painted by her descriptions. After a comfortable pause, the girl looked into her companion's eyes "You know, they turned this into a movie. How about we watch it together later?" Lando's grin widened at this idea, "That sounds fantastic. I'd love to.". "Great, meet me in my room at 9pm, I will figure out some snacks." she said, got up and left him alone.

Lando found himself standing outside Y/N's bedroom door at 9 sharp. The air was filled with anticipation as he raised his hand to knock. A soft sound of footsteps and the clinking of plates hinted at Y/N's preparations within. Y/N opened the door, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Right on time. Come on in," she welcomed. The aroma of the room was very comforting, Lando couldn't explain it but it reminded him of Y/N a lot. He stepped into the dimly lit space, the flickering light from scented candles creating a cozy ambience. The room was decorated with touches of luxury, reflecting the social status of the family. Y/N, wearing comfortable yet stylish pyjamas, gestured towards the plush seating area she had arranged. "Make yourself at home. The movie is all set up," she said, her enthusiasm evident. As they settled in, the glow from the movie screen bathed the room in a soft luminescence. The cinematic adaptation of "The Great Gatsby" unfolded. Y/N and Lando shared the experience, their thoughts and emotions reflected in the glow of the screen. Throughout the movie, their laughter and shared comments added a layer of connection to the evening. The subtle tension between Gatsby and Daisy echoed in the room, mirroring the unspoken bond developing between Y/N and Lando. As the credits rolled, Y/N turned to Lando with a satisfied smile. "What did you think?" she asked, her eyes searching for his reaction. Lando, his gaze lingering on Y/N, grinned. "It was incredible.". To be honest, he didn't remember half of the movie as a beautiful person next to him captivated his attention. Y/N mirrored his smile. After a pause, Lando asked, "Do you think Gatsby's love for Daisy was genuine, or just an illusion he created?". Y/n leaned back, thinking about the question. "It's a bit of both, I think. Gatsby's love was genuine, but the illusions he created were born out of his desperation to recapture a past that had slipped away." Their discussion flowed seamlessly, weaving through literary analysis and personal interpretations. Deep eye contact was comforting and neither of them wanted to end it. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Maybe we can make this a tradition. You should pick the next movie" she suggested, her eyes holding a promise of more shared movie nights.

And the days passed just like that. On the last night, as the clock struck midnight, the yacht sailed under a blanket of stars, the moon casting its silver glow on the deck. Lando, overwhelmed with his thoughts, wandered outside. The night air was infused with a sense of bittersweet anticipation. There, on the deck, he found Y/N, a alone figure under the dark sky. The distant sound of waves protected them from the silence. Y/N sat in contemplation, a cigarette in hand, the soft moonlight illuminating her features. "Mind if I join you?" Lando's voice cut through the serenity, and Y/N looked up, a small laugh escaped her lips as she retrospected on one of their first interactions. She allowed him to, the smoke from her cigarette to twist into the air. Lando sensed a subtle shift in Y/N's demeanour, a quiet sadness that hung in the air like the sea mist. "You seem a bit distant tonight," he remarked, his eyes tried to focus on the horizon but seemed to be too curious of her. Y/N took a drag of her cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I guess I've been thinking about tomorrow," she confessed, her eyes didn't even dare to look at him as it would cause even more pain. Lando nodded, a shared understanding passing between them. The unspoken bond they had formed over the past weeks had transformed the usually boring yacht trip into a place of shared laughter, quiet conversations, and stolen glances, making both of them feel like stupid teenagers who would sneak around behind their parents' backs. The impending departure, however, indicated an end to this state. "I'll miss this," Y/N admitted, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. "I don't want this to end just because the trip does," Lando confessed, his voice steady. "Maybe we can explore what this could be beyond St. Tropez. I'd love the chance to continue getting to know you, to see where this could go." Sea, once the witness of shared stories and vulnerability, now observed the promise of possibilities.

Weeks passed since Lando and Y/N parted ways. Mornings felt different for Lando, mainly due to the lack of two things: sun and Y/N. He often catches himself wondering what Y/N could be doing at this very moment. Yes, he could just open Instagram and DM her but he felt like he needed to do something more refined. Although they got to know each other pretty well, he didn't want her to think that he was just a cocky, young fuckboy who wants nothing more than just a body. He had to show her that he truly cared about her. Then, one morning, a letter arrived. The envelope was outstanding, decorated with intricate patterns and sealed with a wax emblem. Lando's heart quickened as he recognized Y/N's handwriting, the anticipation building with each passing moment. As he carefully opened the envelope, Lando realized that their story was far from over. Whatever that envelope contained held the promise of a new beginning, a chance to reignite the spark that had ignited in the hot, summer days. With trembling hands, he opened the letter, his heart racing with anticipation.

my masterlist

here's a fic i wrote last summer that reminds me of this scenario

feb 5 2024

[alastor-simp]

Vice Dorm Leaders + Ruggie & Floyd with a reader who sings like the Japanese singer, "Ado"

🍀Trey Clover

-Trey enjoys listening to music especially when he is baking in the Heartslabyul kitchen. He doesn't really have any favorite music genre, as he just listens to whatever is playing or whatever Cater sends him. He had no idea you could sing so well until he heard you singing softly next to him when you were helping him bake tarts for Riddle. "Wow Prefect, you never told me you could sing so well. Its very nice." After your baking session, Trey learned about your video channel and listened to all of your songs in about a week. He knows it must be a lot of work to be a very popular singer, so whenever he has time, he bakes sweet treats for you and brews you tea to soothe your throat. His favorite song of yours is "Eien No Akuruhi" , he loves how it expresses the theme of falling in love.

🍩Ruggie Bucchi

-Ruggie is not really focused on social media and all that other stuff, as his mind is occupied with donuts and making some money. He discovered your talent when he came to the botanical gardens to wake up Leona, until he saw the both of you there, with Leona laying on your lap and you singing a lullaby to him. You stopped singing when you heard Ruggies famous "Shishishi" laugh, and saw him walking closer to you, then lay down on the grass next to you, arms wrapped behind his head and a cheeky smile on his face. He told you he came to get Leona, but he changed his mind and told you to continue. Great job! You got a cute hyena boy as your official cheerleader, as he would always pop into your recording sessions, quietly cheering you on and dancing to the beat. His favorite song of yours is "Odo", he thinks the beat is crazy and loves how energetic it is.

🍄Jade Leech

"Oh my, you seem to very talented, Prefect-san." Jade is always interested in the unknown, so he was very elated to discover you could sing without him knowing and that he found out without using his unique spell. He happened to hear your beautiful voice, when he was serving customers at Mostro Lounge and heard you at one of the far tables in the back, humming some lyrics, while writing some words on a notepad, most likely coming up with ideas for another song. Once you realized Jade was next to you, you greeted him and thanked him for the drink he made. Jade gave you his best gentlemen smile and said it was a pleasure, but before he left, he walked closer and leaned against your ear, whispering "You have the voice of a siren, Prefect. I wouldn't mind listening to you more, in private, of course." Chuckling, he walked away to finish his duties, leaving behind a flustered you. His favorite song of yours is "Love ka?", he loves the oceanic vibe of the song and how slightly twisted the song is.

🦐Floyd Leech

-If there is one thing to know about Floyd, is that he loves music. Music is his best subject at NRC, and he is a very talented dancer as well. He came to discover your singing, when he was training in the gym for an upcoming basketball tournament, and noticed you sitting at one of the bleachers, with headphones in yours ears and you quietly singing. Giggling to himself, he slowly came up behind you and lunged towards you in a bear hug, making you jump in fright. "Ehe~ Koebi-chan~, you're amazing", Floyd squeezed you tighter, super happy that he learned something new about you. After he let you go, you told him about your channel, but before you could talk more about it, he had already taken his phone out and subscribed. Floyd was a very chaotic supporter, as he often spammed the comments section with silly phrases and happened to squeeze you in happiness whenever you uploaded a new video, but you found his support sweet nonetheless. His favorite song of yours is "Rebellion" , he likes how its about breaking free and how he relates to it as he is a slight delinquent/rebel himself.

🐍Jamil Viper

-Jamil was a man of many talents even though he tends to hide them from others around him, but despite being skilled in cooking and basketball, he also happens to have a great singing voice and amazing dancing skills. He happened to discover your singing talent from Kalim, as Kalim was enthusiastically jumping up and down in joy, telling Jamil about your singing voice and that a celebration should be held. Jamil was annoyed that he had to prepare for another celebration again, but he was interested in your singing voice and wanted to learn more about it. He did come to wonder why you don't show your face in your songs like most other singers, but once he found out that is what you preferred to do, then he wouldn’t question you further. His favorite song of yours is "I'm Invincible" , he likes how describes the feeling of being confident and achieving their dreams.

🏹Rook Hunt

-"Oh la la! Your singing is merveilleuse, Trickster!" Rook hunt is a very interesting fellow, he is very poetic and loves to express his joy for findings things beautiful, but he tends to become a bit stalker-ish, when he finds a person very interesting. Well, enjoy being stalked around by this hunter, he is going to be following you 24/7. He is the definition of an obsessive fan, just minus the craziness. Vil has noticed that Rook has become a huge fan of your talent, but he rather it be you then Neige LeBlanche, yet he does tell Rook to suppress some of his antics as he can imagine how much stress it may cause you. Rook is always present whenever you are singing/recording for a new music video, swooning over your voice and holding up signs that say "BEAUTE! 100 POINTS!" It's very hard for Rook to chose a favorite song since he adores every one of them, but he does tend to listen to "Yoru No Pierrot" more out of the others. He loves the colorful animation of the video

🦇Lilia Vanrouge

-Lilia is very up to date with the latest trends and is the most knowledgeable about pop culture, like Cater. He is very talented in the music field himself, as he is shown to have a very beautiful singing voice and is part of the Pop Music Club with Kalim and Cater. He was on his way to his club room, when he heard the sound of singing nearby and went to go explore. He saw you in one of the empty classrooms, sitting on top of the desks, singing to yourself. While in the middle of your singing, Lilia had appeared above you, and gave you quite a scare. "Kufufu, your singing is quite lovely," Lilia said as he placed a hand on your cheek, while still staying upside down. Blushing, you thanked Lilia and he asked if you would be interested in joining his club. Before you could give your answer, Lilia had already dragged you out of the room and ran towards his club room. Lilia was happy to found out you had a channel on Magitube, and became your second biggest fan as Idia had already won the title of number one. Lilia was the most understanding of you not revealing yourself in your MV's , as he believes that you are already expressing yourself enough with your voice, and that it shouldn't matter whether you show your face or not. You did mention wanting to collaborate with his band, and make a song together, to help them gain some popularity. Once you told Lilia that, he was overjoyed. His favorite song of yours is "Tot Musica" , he can't get enough of how powerful your voice is and how intense the lyrics are.

credit to Japanese singer, Ado

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Ménage à trois | Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

Summary: A typical movie night at Stu's turns into a ménage à trois

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (m receiving), non protected p + v (this is the 90s), anal, any incoherence are part of the world of Scream...just enjoy the smut that took way too long to write

Request: Threesome with billy and Stu plsss There's barely any fics for them

I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a while, but I couldn’t find characters that fit (i tried so many!). This is my first Billy fic and it’s sort of exciting since I’ve been crushing hard on him (well, Skeet Ulrich) since forever. Although I like his character, I am not into Stu, so that was challenging for me to include him in the scene. I hope it's good enough!

—

The best thing about Stu’s house was that his parents were often out of town because of their job, making it the perfect spot for hosting huge parties without having to worry about parents coming home and ending the fun. It was also perfect for private parties.

Stu brought out a stack of VHS from the blockbuster while you made popcorn in the kitchen, getting ready for the horror movie marathon. Billy was out getting beer and other snacks, needing your sweets with the popcorn.

The kernels were almost finished popping and you felt someone press against your back, pulling you flush against them. The familiar cologne filled your nose and you leaned into Billy’s presence. He pressed his lips on your neck, distracting you from your popcorn duty.

‘’Stop, I’m gonna burn the popcorn,’’ you told him, trying to push him off you but Billy was not letting you go. ‘’Did you get the blue—’’

‘’— lollipop with the sour dip powder? Yes,’’ he confirmed. ‘’I also got a candy necklace and a roll of sweetarts.’’ Billy pulled them out of his jacket’s pocket and your mouth twisted into a smile.

After the popcorn was ready, you brought it to the living room and joined Billy and Stu who were already drinking beer and talking nonsense.

At least they had not started the movie without you.

‘’What are we watching first?’’ you asked, taking a seat on the couch.

Stu offered you a beer in exchange for a handful of popcorn. ‘’The Exorcist.’’

Although considered the scariest movie ever made, you wouldn’t say it’s scary. It was definitely iconic for the horror genre. Some scenes were a bit shocking and disturbing, but it didn’t keep you up at night.

‘’I’m gonna stuff you like that later,’’ Billy whispered beside you as the ‘best parts’, according to him, were not edited out.

The scene was in no way turning you on — that would be disgusting —, but his promise and the sultry rasp in his voice so close to your ear made your core tighten. You bit back a sound as he squeezed your thigh, a wave of arousal running through your body.

‘’What are you kids whispering about?’’ Stu asked, sticking his head in your and Billy’s personal space.

Billy shot a glare at his friend.

‘’Oh!’’ Stu smirked, figuring his line of thoughts. ‘’If you want to fuck, feel free to use my bed. Last door on the left.’’

The offer was tempting, but Billy declined the offer quickly.

‘’So your perverted ass can listen and jerk off while we fuck?’’ He shook his head, knowing his best friend a little too well. ’’Not happening.’’

Stu gasped dramatically. ‘’I would never do that!’’ Billy gave him a ‘I know you’ look, and he sighed. ‘’Okay, maybe I would, but that’s your fault for not letting me join.’’

A wicked idea crossed your mind. ‘’And what if we did? Let you join, that is.’’

The taller one’s brain short-circuited. ‘’W-what? You want me to join?’’

You shrugged, not seeing an issue. Him and Billy have been close friends for years and you’ve always secretly wanted to do it with another partner. This was your chance.

‘’If you’re in.’’ You looked at Stu, then Billy, needing both their approval. Although you were the one getting to experience them both, you didn’t want to force anyone into doing something they didn’t want.

‘’If I’m in?’’ Stu repeated. A grin spread on his face, excitement shining in his eyes. ‘’Babydoll, I’ve been dying to tap it.’’ He ghosted a hand on your other thigh, getting very close to your crotch.

It was no secret that Stu had his eyes on you — even while he was dating Tatum. You had caught him shamelessly staring at your breasts a handful of times. But you were his best friend’s girl, so he would never make a move on you…unless he was given the permission to.

‘’Don’t get too excited, she’s still mine,’’ Billy was quick to remind Stu, pushing him back on his side of the couch.

After making eye contact with Billy and silently agreeing to the plan, you detached yourself from your boyfriend and joined Stu, taking him by surprise when you crashed your mouth on his. The kiss didn’t match the perfect mix of tenderness and intensity of Billy’s kisses, but it wasn't less enjoyable. He expertly hooks his hands under your knees and drags you on to his lap, swallowing the gasp you let out into his mouth, lips never leaving each other. You subconsciously pressed yourself further into Stu as his hands ventured up the sides of your thighs, guiding you on his lap.

You didn’t mean to drag the kiss for too long, not wanting to give Stu all your attention, but you started feeling his cock stiffen beneath his jeans and took it as your cue to pull back.

He groaned in protest. ‘’It was starting to get good…’’

‘’We have all night, there’s no rush,’’ you told him, crawling back to Billy and kissing him in turn.

Unlike with Stu, everything was easy with Billy. You knew what he liked and how to get him going, and vice versa. You slipped your hands under his shirt, your palms covering the soft planes of his stomach and chest while his tongue caressed yours, causing you to let little moans and sighs slip into his lips.

Stu watched excitedly, feeling his cock twitch underneath his jeans. He never thought he would be so turned on by watching his friends make out.

You tugged at Billy’s shirt, trying to pull it off. He broke the kiss and you helped him discard it, crashing your lips back on his right after.

For a moment, you almost forgot that someone else was there, watching and waiting. You blindly reached behind you to wave Stu over. He scooted toward you and nipped at exactly the right spot on your neck while you started to rock your hips against Billy, feeling his cock press at your core even under his jeans and underwear. His hands moved to your hips, following your moves and eliciting a beautiful groan from him.

The temperature was quickly rising in the living room, so you undid the buttons and peeled it off, revealing your delicate bra. A mewl escaped Stu’s lips at the sight, dying to unclasp your bra and see those tits he's been dreaming about. He reached for it, but before he could, Billy smirked and undid the clasp with one hand, letting your bra slide off your shoulders and breasts.

‘’How does it feel to live your dream?’’ you teased your friend, turning to give him a better view.

His eyes zeroed-in right on your full breasts, glistening like a kid getting the toy he wanted on Christmas morning. Without saying anything, Stu cupped them, slender fingers kneading into your tits and thumbs rubbing your nipples into hard peaks. You threw your head back as the contact sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

While you and Stu were having a moment, Billy loomed behind you and started working on the button of your pants as he attached his lips to your neck, suckling on one spot and leaving a hickey behind. Your head rolled back on his shoulder, your soft moans evolving into a choked cry when Billy’s finger found your clit. He grinned against your neck, his erection digging into your ass.

Screams came from the TV, but you paid it no attention — no one was listening anymore —, pressing into Billy as he continued rubbing his finger over your clit and causing more slick to pool in your panties. They’re gonna be fucking soaked by the time you take them off.

‘’Give Stu some pleasure, baby. He looks left out,’’ Billy said into your ear.

You nodded and reached down for the growing bulge in Stu's pants, grasping at the firm mass beneath the fabric, forcing a whimper to escape Stu's lips as he finally felt some form of stimulation.

‘’Ah, fuck,’’ Stu breathed out.

Before taking things a step farther, the three of you moved to Stu’s bedroom. Stu led the way, eager to get the 'party' started and get his dick wet. You and Billy followed behind, a laugh bubbling out of your lips when he scooped you by your thighs and threw you on his shoulder.

When your ass touched the bed, you grabbed Stu by the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his hard, swollen cock. It was more lean and lighter in color, but with a nice mushroom tip. You stroked it up and down before playing with the tip, a glint of mischief in your eyes as you watched it glisten with a bead of pre-cum.

‘’Mmh, keep doing that, babydoll.’’

Billy snuck behind his friend, a knowing smirk on his lips. ‘’Wait until she’s got her mouth around you.’’

He glanced down at you and you got the hint, getting off the bed and on your knees as the tall boy quickly pushed his clothes down to his ankles, then shrugged off his sweater seeing as it was getting in the way. The sight alone made Stu slightly dizzy. It wasn’t every day that your friend brags about how excellent his girlfriend is at giving blowjobs and lets you try.

You grabbed him and kitten-licked at the leaky slit of his cock, licking up all the pre-cum that dribbled out and sighing as the taste of him landed on your tastebuds. Stu hissed, getting pleasure from the small attention to his sensitive tip.

Now that Billy had bragged about your skills, you didn't want to make him come off as a liar. You needed to give Stu a blowjob worth remembering.

You moved to lick a broad stripe on the underside of his cock, lips wrapping around the tip before taking him inside your mouth. Your hands flew to Stu’s hips to steady yourself as you took him deeper into your mouth, your warm mouth enveloping him, causing Stu to groan and slid a hand through your hair, keeping a grip at the back of your scalp.

On the left, Billy palmed himself over his jeans, the sight of his girl on her knees making him even harder. He rid himself of his jeans and boxers, wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke himself — and relieve himself — while he watched Stu’s cock disappear past your lips slowly. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, making Billy wish it was his in your pretty mouth.

‘’What a little slut. Sucking your boyfriend’s friend's dick right in front of him,’’ Stu said, pushing you deeper on his cock and making your eyes water.

You took it all, letting him use you until his breathing fastened, getting close to cum. Your knees were starting to hurt on the wooden floor, but you didn’t stop and sucked Stu so hard he knew it was only a matter of time before your lips were covered in his come.

Once he did, you swallowed and released Stu’s cock with an audible pop, moving back with a sly grin, a string of saliva connected from your lips to his cock.

‘’Holy fucking shit!’’ he exclaimed as he released his grip from your hair and took a few moments to collect himself.

You glanced over at Billy, looking so pretty in his naked glory, and wiped your mouth.

‘’That’s my good girl,’’ he praised with pride in his eyes.

The corner of your mouth lifted up.

Billy pulled you up and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, catching the little bit of cum and you wrapped your mouth around it, sucking it clean. ‘’Get undressed, babe.’’

You didn’t have much clothes left on, just your pants, panties and socks.

Then, you got on the bed and pulled Billy with you. His mouth magnetically found yours and you spread your legs to give him room to get closer. He rubbed two fingers along your folds and his cock twitched as they got wet with your arousal.

‘’Mmh, that sweet little pussy’s so wet,’’ Billy said against your lips, sliding two fingers inside and making you instantly moan. His fingers knew exactly where to go and what to do.

Your hands came up his shoulders, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

You felt the bed dip and Stu flopped on the bed, already getting hard again and wrapping his hand around his cock to stroke himself at the sight of you getting fingered. He couldn’t wait to be inside your tight wet pussy.

‘’Have you figured out who’s going where?’’ Stu asked, keeping his pace slow and steady.

Billy nodded, answering in your place as you grinded down against his fingers. He curled them, eliciting a series of mewls from you. ‘’You got any lube in here?’’ BIlly said over his shoulder.

Stu scrunched his face in mild disgust. ‘’Eh…no. Why the fuck would I have lube?’’

‘’For—’’

You forced yourself to hold your next moan. ‘’It’s okay,’’ you cut in. ‘’You…you’re good to go. I prepped before coming here.’’

Billy groaned, the thought of you prepping yourself making his dick twitch.

You had not planned for Stu to join, but you did plan ahead for a good night of sex with your boyfriend — including for anal. You didn’t do it very often due to the preparation it needed, but you liked it from time to time.

‘’I knew you wouldn’t have any on hand and I was not gonna let you stick it raw and risk ripping tissue. My ass is gonna be sore enough in the morning, I don’t want to sit on a bag of frozen peas like the first time,’’ you explained.

Stu looked between you and Billy. ‘’She’s let you in her backdoor?’’ he asked his friend, jealousy in his eyes. ‘’Tatum never lets me.’’

Billy grinned at you. ‘’Fuck, I love you.’’ He kissed you hard.

Stu situated himself on the bed, getting ready for you, and you climbed over his lap, facing him. You took hold of his dick and tapped the head of his cock over your clit to tease him, then down your folds, coating it with your slick.

Stu lowered his eyes to where your genitals were rubbing, cursing at the sight. ‘’Mmh, rub your sweet pussy on me.’’

You did it again and he smacked right over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

‘’Cut the teasing and get to it, will you?’’ Billy told the two of you.

He didn’t want to rush you, but he was the only one who didn’t get any preliminary care and he was starting to get impatient.

You nodded and lined Stu up at your entrance, secretly eager to know what it felt like inside you. You lowered yourself on his hard cock, swallowing him between your soaked folds.

Stu was unable to contain the groan crawling from the pit of his stomach as you finally bottomed out. ‘’God, you’re so tight,’’ he whispered. He felt every detail of you, from the way you clenched to your lower lips and your puffy bud just peeking from under its hood. A mischievous grin curled on his lips and he reached to rubbed your clit, making you moan and causing your walls to clench around Stu absentmindedly. ‘’Ahh, fuck.’’

Billy chuckled, knowing exactly what happened.

He came and positioned himself behind you. ‘’You good?’’

You nodded, rolling your hips and slowly riding Stu's length.

With a hand on your shoulder, Billy gently leaned you forward, getting you in a better position. He spat on his fingers and stroked himself a little, pre-cum mixing in, and lined it up with your ass, carefully slipping in and easing himself inside. It stung at first, making you curse Billy's girth.

‘’Fuck, you’re tight,’’ Billy gritted out.

He didn’t move, staying still as your body adjusted and then pushing more in. After a moment, the burning subsided, making its way into pleasure.

Billy gave the first thrust and sighed, feeling you tight around him. ‘’This is even better than last time.’’

Beneath you, Stu figured it was okay to do the same and thrust up, eliciting a soft moan from your mouth at the simultaneous sensations. You had never felt more full.

‘’How does that feel, babydoll?’’ Stu asked, watching your face twist with pleasure.

‘’Feels so fucking good. So fucking full.’’ You rocked back against Billy, signaling for him to go again.

He did and soon enough, Stu was snapping his hips up and ramming into you at fast speed while Billy grabbed firmly at your hips and drilled into you, your loud moans echoing through the four walls of the bedroom. Your body was in overload, every sense heightened, every feeling magnified.

‘’Fuck, right there!’’ you cried, throwing your head back as Billy smacked your ass cheek.

‘’You take our cocks so well,’’ Billy praised, seeing both himself and Stu slip in and out of your holes, eliciting a series of mewls from you. ‘’Looking so fucking good stuffed like that.’’

Unable to form words, you just moaned.

You would have wanted the intense pleasure to never stop, but all good things had an end. You gave the boys a warning that you were about to cum and, just as you were about to conclude, your walls clenched around Stu and he spilled inside you, joining you in your orgasm, cumming all over his cock as Billy continued his assault on your ass before following shortly.

You fell against Stu’s chest, completely and utterly exhausted. A wince of discomfort stretched across your lips when Billy pulled out. He smiled as he watched his cum slip out of you and dripped down to where Stu's softening cock was still inside you.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully

[slut4daviii]

character(s): i.hashibira

pt: 01/01

cw: phone sex, masturbating, voice kink, toys, overstimulation

summary: sleep, sometimes it was just so overrated.

a/n: fem-aligning | minors DO NOT INTERACT also, if anyone wants to request, imma make a masterlist inna a few hours.

title: a thump in the night

wc: 1200+

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“oh shit!” your voice trailed off, casually descending Inosuke’s walls, the mumbling of his own voice practically desensitized next to your hoarse, unwaveringly powerful tone.

he hissed out a groan, similar to you but much more needy. his fingers; index and thumb, came up to his pink nipples, rolling the bud between themselves. he let out an uncharacteristically soft moan, using his right hand to edge himself— stemming closer to his imminent orgasm

within his room, there was a soft humming noise, muted by the sound of your consciousness game noises, none of them being unfamiliarized to him. he heard the rapid gunfall, followed by hushed footsteps, then an unexpected burst of sound.

but what stuck out to Inosuke Hashibira was the sound of his own boyfriend. the way he would groan at each death, or suck in a quick breath to prepare himself to go around a corner, or even curse under each unprovoked breath.

another muffled moan left Inosuke, this time to the sound of you stretching. your voice was deep, almost lucrative in tone. and as each one of your joints popped, you would usher out a deeper more firm groan.

of course, in your case this wasn’t sexual by any measure. but Inosuke was a spectacle not too many people got to know. and for this reason.

you two had been dating for two years, and in that timespan, Inosuke had asked you to fulfill a few of his… fantasies.

the first being “[name]! oh [name]! I got an idea!” you should’ve left right there, but you didn’t, feeling obligated to listen to another one of your boyfriends dumb ideas. “you should fuck me!” was all he said. cut clean and dry, right? wrong. “you should handcuff my hands behind my back and wrap a collar around my neck!”

ok, not too unusual for him. it could be worse right?

“and do it while I’m hanging out of a window!”

you stopped, looking at him like he’d grown a second head. “what?”

expecting him to back down was the first of your mistakes, thinking that the muscular broad was going to back away from you. no, instead, he repeated his order request.

“you should handcuff me and fuck me while I’m hanging out that —he motioned to the window perched right in front of your door— “window with a collar around my neck, choking me and threaten to drop me!”

the word butchered into your mind, imagining what that would look like. it was pretty. but you shook your head. “Inosuke.” you started softly, “we live on the tenth floor.”

“I know! I know! it’ll make it more fun! and then people can see how good your dic—“ you placed your hand over his mouth.

“no.”

Inosuke whined against your hand, his eyes looking up at you full of lust and desire. “Inosuke, I’m not fucking you in a window.”

that was your second mistake. thinking that Inosuke would just take that. so, from that moment on, Inosuke would come up with a new idea everyday. each one more chaotic than the last.

and you would know, you kept a list in your phone. for education purposes obviously

WAYS AND PLACES TO FUCK INO-CHAN

hanging outside a window

in the middle of a mall

in front of his parents

(with tanjiro)

(with mr.tomioka)

(with mr.tengen)

(with mr.rengoku)

until he blacks-out (then keep going until he wakes back up)

when he’s doing laundry (specifically, he wants to get ‘stuck’ in the dryer and have me pound him until he’s came enough time to fill up a cup)

children’s playground

against a tree

on a train (let anyone join)

on a priest alter (on a sunday)

the produce aisle (so he can snack)

while playing the game

with a gun pointed at his head (NOT doing that)

gangbang with at least 10 people present, but only 5 have to join.

view 264+

Inosuke was a wild card, but who could blame him, whenever the two of you do fuck, he cums at least four times, making sure you do the same.

but right now, the —in his mind— greatest idea in the world had been bestowed upon him. phone sex

you were still playing your game, giving it your full attention, believing that Inosuke had fallen asleep several hours ago.

Inosuke on the other hand, pulled the vibrator from his hole, leaving it slightly agape, rapidly clenching around his any movement.

“[name]…” he called to you, the sound suppressed by a moan. “nhgm… [name]! I—I need you!”

your ear twitched, not knowing if you were a) hearing things, b) hearing your boyfriend, or c) hearing something from the game.

you took your headset off, it falling to your neck in one swift motion. you strained to hear the sound again, also looking for your phone. “where did I—“

“[name]! mgh!” slick sounds rang from the corner of your bed, followed by another row of heavy pants. “[name]… I wan’to see you!”

you finally found your phone, pulling it from under your blanket and stared at the sight blaring from your dimly-lit screen.

Inosuke, with his legs parted and fingers crossed into himself. he was blushing madly, sweat falling from every inch of his skin. “mghm! [name]! [name]! lemme— your cock! I wan’tsee your cock!”

you felt your pants swell at the intonation and words, he was panting heavily, lust practically dripping from every word that left his mouth. “In—“ you gulped back your words, fumbling to find the right ones. “I—Inosuke..”

the boy tilted his head back, the raspiness of your worn out voice hitting him like a truck “fughk! [n—name]! say again! talk t’me, please!”

again your cock grew, impatiently throbbing against the silk lining of your boxers. you didn’t know what to say, it was a bit of anomaly, usually Inosuke was the one speechless, bound and hanging by your every word, but now it was you.

“w—what do I say?”

Inosuke increased the speed of his hand, moving it along his length like the bullet of a shotgun. “an’thing! call m’slut! tell m’what yer gon’ do t’me!”

a flash of heat hit you, making you sharply inhale. you brought your hand behind you, finding your chair and sitting down. you pulled at the waist of your sweatpants, yanking your boxers off.

like a reanimated corpse, your dick sprang upwards, bobbing against your abdomen. by this point, Inosuke had noticed your quiet nature, thinking you went back to your game and tilted his head to look at his phone. it was perched up against something you couldn’t see, but when the two of you made eye contact, he came. his hole rapidly clenching then unclenching.

you propped your phone against your controller, moving quickly back to your painfully hard erection. you curled your fingers around your throbbing length and began tugging, feeling. like you could cum at any moment. “Ino, I need your voice. c’mon, talk to me.”

Inosuke shuddered, never moving from his revealing position. he looked at you through lidded eyes, watching as your hand traveled teasingly slow up and down your thick shaft, muzzling the tip in a full 360 spin before repeating.

“mgh! I want that! want daddy to fill m’up! wanna—“ he fell back panting, this stimulation from his screen too much. “want you in m’stomach. playing w’my organs. wanna clench around your big fat cock.”

Inosuke’s were only jumbled mumbles now, barely audible. but from what you could hear, you loved it, moving you hand faster, adding spin occasionally. it felt like your tip was on fire, begging to be released.

“c’mon babyboy, what’s my name?” you asked, your cum tickling up the middle of your shaft.

“d—daddy.” he mumbled, cock twitching with rigor. “you—you’re ngh! daddy!”

“oh yeah.” you croaked, your cock teetering on Inosuke’s every word. “say it again, cum for me, please.”

the word please made Inosuke weak in the knees, moving his three unused fingers to his empty hole and plunging them deep. he let out a string of moans, the sound instantly going to your cock.

“fu—“ you bit the insides of your cheek to suppress your moan, but the pleasure was too much— overpowering your body. “fughk! fuck! Ino-chan! haah! hah…” your orgasm maneuvered through your every vein, stars dancing within your blood vessels.

Inosuke was close, relentlessly thrusting his fingers into his hole “close! clo—“ his orgasm spoke faster, ripping forth from his slit, spraying thick, milky white ropes of semen all over himself. “ngkh! mgumh! fuhgck!” he seethed, the feeling too much.

another round of semen shot from him, this one not as powerful but just as plentiful, coating his chiseled abdomen and pubic hair, slowly trailing to his hole, outlining it in a temptation too strong to resist.

you picked up your phone and spoke with haste, “I’m coming over.”

assembling your things, you went straight to your bedroom door, hearing the click of a knob before a voice brought you to a screeching halt.

“[name], what the fuck was that?!”

your online friends, all clamoring over the sounds they’d just heard.

“fuck, you don’t know what you do to me, Inosuke.”

without another glance, you left your friends, blushing and talking amongst themselves about how you were masturbating.

“but… why was it hot—“ one said, earning a loud disturbance from the other two.

“SHUT UP!!”

[00belle00lovely00]

HeadCanons for DogDay x CatNap,

NOW‼️‼️‼️‼️🫵🫵🫵🫵

OKAY OKAY OKAY-

HOLY MOLY YA'LL APPEARING OUT OF THE THIN AIR IN NUMBERS

No seriously- PLEASE have mercy on me there are SO MANY COMMISSIONS-

☀️🧡🌙💜☀️🧡🌙💜☀️🧡🌙💜☀️🧡🌙💜☀️🧡🌙💜☀️🧡

I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. SUN CHARACTER X MOON CHARACTER>>>>>>>>>

I absolutely adore the Sleepyday ship name.

I think we can all agree on why the fandom took this ship by storm. I mean, come on, it's literally opposites attract. I may not personally like or even come as close to agreeing to the in-game Dogday and Catnap (since it's either fucked up or even more fucked up in every sense) BUT THE CARTOON VERSIONS? OH MY GOSH. CUTIES. ABSOLUTE CUTIES.

Literally extrovert x introvert.

LISTEN I ONCE FOUND ABOUT THIS ONE MASTERPIECE WHERE THEY HAD MATCHING NECKLACES THAT- LIKE- IF YOU PRESS ON IT IT KINDA VIBRATES AND YOU ONLY TOUCH ON IT WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE YOU MISS THEM. AND IT WAS SUCH A CUTE CONCEPT AAAAAAA.

Their date GOTTA BE watching the solar eclipse. ONE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY- WHY HAVE I NOT SEEN ART OF THAT? I DON'T KNOW. BUT I KNOW THAT IF IT DOESN'T POP UP SOON I'LL DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

They are like gay without knowing what gay means. They just think that whenever someone brings it up they mean "happy". As in "happy friends".

Call me crazy but I LOVE my headcanon of Catnap knowing ASL either just because of knowledge OR because this man is so quiet people think he is a mute, which for him is good, and saves him a bunch of time. And besides, why talk when you happy go-happy Dogday to come along and talk for you?

OH TALKING ABOUT THAT LAST HEADCANON. WOULDN'T IT BE SO CUTE THAT DOGDAY ONLY UNDERSTOOD "I love you" IN ASL JUST BECAUSE CATNAP SAID IT SO MUCH ARGSDJFNSKLJDBFMSJKBASJDBFKJASBDFKJASDBFKSAJBD

They're so boyfriends I LOVE THEM! I'm pretty sure they'd be completely confused if they ever got to hear the myth that "cats and dogs hate each other"

PDA?... EEeeeh.. depends, on whether Catnap is awake at the moment?

I heavily am basing myself off from AO3 fanfic I read and absolutely adore, but CATNAP AS A NOCTORNAL GUY IS THE BEST HEADCANON EVER!!!

THEY ARE SHARING THE SAME BLANKET AAA

They outta have a picnic date someday where Catnap is trying out vanilla cupcakes and Dogday lavender tea.

I'd say that Catnap, on rare occasions, of course, likes to show very subtle and rather gentle affections like holding hands, intertwining fingers, locking arms or wrapping a tail around Dogday's leg. Meanwhile, Dogday is just: "❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭😭😭" on the inside.

BRING THESE TWO. TO KARAOKE NIGHT. THEY ARE SINGING ALL NIGHT LONG!!! Well, if Catnap approves of course.

Dogday when asked if he likes Catnap: "W-what? OOOoooh! OH! Uh-.. that! Heheh, well it DEPENDS you know? I mean... As in, like like or like liking like? BECAUSE- don't get me wrong! I LIKE Catnap! I like ALL of you! But I kind of.. like... like... like-" and that just goes on and on for hours.

Catnap when asked if he likes Dogday: "I love him. Why do you wanna know?" ever so casually. No hesitation.

Ngl the way I worded that last headcanon now sounds like that one line of Jessica Rabbit saying "he makes me laugh" LMAO.

OH MY GOSH. HEAR ME OUT YA'LL. HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. WOULDN'T CATNAP LOOK ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS IN A DRESS? Okay. Yeah, no, I changed my mind, he would be all sassy throughout it. Yup... but at least Dogday is content.

They adore astrology, wanna know why? Because that's the one thing they commonly love. While everyone else has no idea what they're talking about.

THEY'RE CUDDLE BUDDIES!!!

I'm so normal for them. BUT SERIOUSLY I LOVE THEM AH-

[vviolets444rroses]

dating ethan landry pt3

my HEADCANONS <3 :

SFW only :)

part 1 | part 2

👻; he hates hard liquor. so you’ll just be sitting with him drinking something tropical. i feel like he secretly likes pink whitney, though.

👻; he loves raves💯 he always goes shirtless too. he used to be so self conscious about it, but now he’s chillin.

👻; he likes gorillaz, tyler the creator, deftones, pierce the viel, roar… (what do you think he’d listen to?)

👻; never broken the law once in his life. once when he was little, he accidentally took a push pop and cried when he realized he had it. (guys we’re ignoring the fact that he’s GF 😋)

👻; obsessed with action, sci-fi, and thriller movies. he makes you watch them, even if you’re afraid. you don’t mind because you have him to hold you.

👻; you guys slowly started developing each other’s mannerisms and habits. i.e., you laugh like him and he makes the same weird gestures that you do.

👻; he is always updating a playlist he made for you. he notices that you fall asleep to it when he’s doing homework late at night.

👻; he likes to rub your back while you sleep.

👻; he’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick.

👻; you’re always reminding him where he last had something. he forgets so easily.

👻; you don’t have room on your bed anymore because he buys you so many stuffed animals. you guys named them all.

👻; ^^ he won a lot of them at the fair. he will not stop playing until he wins.

👻; he loves mario kart and literally any fighting game. you can never win against him.

👻; dude… he has to be good at dance central and/or dance dance revolution.

👻; his bed smells like you. he even bought a bottle of your perfume so it never goes away.

👻; whenever you lose something, he buys another one for you. except he doesn’t even tell you. he lets you believe it just showed up.

👻; his favorite holidays include halloween and thanksgiving. one, you can’t fight him on saying halloween isn’t a holiday. two, he just likes to eat at thanksgiving.

👻; ^^ makes you wear a couple costume with him. it’s always something you don’t entirely understand. all these old timey shows that you slept through whenever ethan put it on.

👻; i bet he’s really clumsy. always getting hurt.

👻; he can’t tie a tie for the LIFE of him. he bought the clip ons, so he wouldn’t have to keep bothering you to help him.

👻; he probably slaps your ass after a few reps when you guys work out together. (is this sfw? idk i had to say it though😭)

👻; he def used to wear axe body spray☠️ you made him change it.

👻; now i think he would smell like something woodsy or like the ocean…

👻; when you fall asleep during a movie, he really wants to wake up up, but he doesn’t. he just ignores the fact that you’re asleep and talks quietly to himself as if you’re awake and listening to him😊

👻; he reminds me of these songs…

die for you (remix)

love you more than me

one more love song

i’m running out of ideas so send requests :) all of these are my opinion and just that. so please be nice! like and reblog if you enjoyed 🫶🏼

[familyvideostevie]

i will always be right there

a quick fluff fest for emmy of @upsidedownwithsteve, who convinced me to get out of my writing slump with the following prompt: you come first.  you’re always my first choice. | 1.8k, fluff, fem!reader

You stare at the phone in the break room for at least ten minutes before you decide to pick it up. It takes you another few breaths to punch in the number. It's only 1pm on a Friday but the entire week weighs heavy on your shoulders and a few too many people have yelled at you already and you just want to sit at home alone tonight. 

But you told Steve you'd go to a party with him. He's you to be ready at 8 for him to swing by and grab you before you spend hours in someone else's apartment having a nice time. But you just don't want to anymore. Your mood is plummeting by the minute and the thought of disappointing him makes it fall faster.

Not that he'll be disappointed -- he never is, not with you. So there's no reason to be nervous as you listen to the line ring. 

"Steve speaking, how can I help you?" You can hear voices in the background so he must have picked up the front desk line. 

"Hi," you say, softly. You twirl the chord around your fingers and imagine him leaning against the counter looking effortlessly handsome.

"Hey you," he replies, voice light and pleased. "You on your break?" A child shrieks somewhere near him. 

"I am," you say. Best just to get it over with. "I don't want to keep you too long but...I don't think I want to go to the party tonight anymore."

"Oh." There's some shuffling as if he's moving the receiver from one shoulder to the other. "That's fine. Are you okay?"

"Just tired," you tell him. "A little down. I don't think I'll be much fun tonight."

"Well, I'll just come by when I'm done with work and we can have a night in, no biggie--"

"Steve," you interrupt. "You're meant to be bringing the beer. And honestly, I really don't mind. You should go." He doesn't reply for a few seconds and you chew on your lip. It's not that you don't want to spend time with him or don't want his comfort. It's that you haven't been seeing each other for very long and you don't want to come off as...needy.

"Are you sure?" he says. "I don't like the idea of you being sad and me going to a party." It sounds like he's knocking his fist on the table in a random rhythm as he talks, something you've noticed he does when he thinks. "Unless it's the kind of sad where you want to be alone?"

"If you want to come over to my place after the party and spend the night I wouldn't be upset about that." You gave him a key to your place only a few weeks ago but he's yet to use it. Part of you wants to take up his offer and ask him to abandon the party altogether, but he really did promise to bring like, three cases of beer and you know Steve is the kind of guy who follows through. And you want him to have fun and not be weighed down by your own fatigue. 

"Okay," he says. "Okay, I'll come over later." Someone yells his name. "Shit," he says. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go. But I'l see you tonight, okay?"

The rest of the day passes by slowly. You almost talk yourself into calling him back and telling him that you'll go, but then you close your eyes and feel so tired you can barely stay on your feet. You feel sad and guilty and bummed and you just want to sit on the couch and do nothing.

So when you get home, that's exactly what you do. You change into an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that might be Steve's and order some pizza. You hum to yourself as you wait for it, gathering blankets and pillows and tossing them all on the couch before selecting a tape at random from the pile Steve brought over last week and popping it in the TV.

The clock on the wall reads 8pm when your doorbell rings. You pad over it in socket feet and a twenty in your hand and open the door, half expecting it to be Steve, but it's just a delivery boy. You thank him and take your pizza straight to the coffee table in front of your couch and plop down on the floor. You open the box and turn it so that your side of the pizza is closest -- you got Steve's toppings on the other half in case he's hungry when he comes over. 

The movie is fine but forgettable and the pizza is pretty greasy but satisfying. 

You don't know how long has passed but you've almost eaten half of the pizza when someone knocks on your door. It's a silly knock, a rhythm only evident to the person doing it, and it makes you smile. "Come in, Steve," you yell. You hear him fumble with unlocking it a little but but then the door opens and there is he, hair a mess and a plastic bag from the supermarket in his hand. 

"Look at you eating on the floor," he says. "Gross." His voice is so fond you want to hide your face in your hands. 

"My house my rules, Steve," you say. "What do you have there? And what time is it? Did you go to the party?" He toes off his shoes and hangs his coat and wanders to the kitchen. 

"Ice cream," he says. "If you want some. It's around 9, I think?" He must check his watch but you can't see it over the couch. "Yeah, just after 9. I went for a little." He hops over the couch suddenly and you yelp but he's careful not to displace the pizza as he slides down onto the floor next to you. You get a good look at him for the first time all day -- jeans and a long sleeved cream shirt, cheeks a little pink from the cold and hair floppy like he's been running his hands through it. He looks relaxed, happy. 

"It's early, Steve," you say, frowning just a little. He slings an arm around you as he wiggles a little on the carpet, trying to get comfortable as the movie continues to play quietly. 

"Well, I dropped off the beer and said hi to some people. Who all say hi to you, by the way." He toys with the hem of your borrowed t-shirt. "And here I am. I thought I'd hang out with you, if that's okay." You know that he'd leave if you told him you wanted some alone time, but that's the opposite of what you want. You always want to be near Steve.

"Of course it's okay," you tell him, softly. "I'm glad you're here." He grins at you before leaning in to place a feather-light kiss to your temple. 

"Can I have some pizza?" You nod and turn the box towards him. "Did you do that half for me?" He groans in happiness and you roll your eyes at his boyish attitude.

"You didn't have to come over, Steve," you say as he takes a bite. He chews quickly and swallows.

"Yeah, but I wanted to." The crease between his brows deepens and you reach up to smooth it out with your thumb. How do you convey this to him correctly?

You take a deep breath. "I just don't want to be the girlfriend that makes you miss things because she's feeling kind of down." Steve's jaw works as he listens. The arm around your shoulders tightens a little and he brushes his fingers along your bare arm. 

"Good thing you're the girlfriend I love so much I want to hang out with her when she's kind of down," he parrots back to you. He looks petulant as he says it before biting into his piece of pizza for emphasis.

"I guess that's fine," you say. "But do you understand what I mean? I don't want you to cancel things for me, or change plans because I don't want to go."

He wipes his hands on a napkin you put out and turns so that his torso faces you entirely as his legs press against yours. His hand cups your face, thumb stroking the skin of your cheek. "You come first," he says, gaze firmly on you. "You're always my first choice. Whether you're sad, or sick, or tired, or happy, or anything else. Always."

The moment feels a little too intense to occur while you're sitting on the floor eating pizza, but that's just how being with Steve is. He says the most loving things to you at random moments without even thinking about it. Loving, for him, seems to be as easy as breathing. It's overwhelming and wonderful and makes you feel like you are flying. 

"You're my first choice, too," you tell him. He releases you but stays turned towards you as he reaches for another piece of pizza. 

"And what about the feeling down part?" he asks. You notice a bit of pizza sauce on his lip and you wipe it away with the pad of your thumb before licking it off of your own skin. His eyes are shining and his mouth is curled up at the end as he watches you. 

"I'll be fine," you say. "But it's nice that you're here." When you first started dating, Steve might have pushed you a little to tell him more, to find a problem that he could solve with trinkets or food or something else. But now he knows well enough that he's not responsible for that -- that he can believe you when you tell him that he helps just by being around, that you'll be honest if you do need something. So he just hums and scrunches his nose as he finishes another piece. 

"Can we sit on the couch now?" he says. "This carpet is making my ass hurt."

You flick his bicep. "Sure, pretty boy." He hops up and hauls you after him, his hand warm and firm in yours for just a few seconds. "Ice cream in a bit?" you ask. 

He grins. "I got like, four flavors. So we can have an ice cream bar. Do you have hot fudge still?" You nod. He starts to clean up the pizza, picking up the box and napkins and heading for the kitchen, but before he can you tug on his arm. 

"Hey," you say. "Thank you for coming over." He smiles at you, boyish and charming and a little amused, as if he's saying where else would I be? So you lean in to kiss him on the cheek, the beginnings of his stubble prickly against your lips. He whines a little when you pull away and you roll your eyes but go in for a real kiss this time because he just looks so lovely and he's yours.

"What movie are we watching?" he says when you pull away. 

"I honestly have no idea, Steve," you say with a snort. He laughs and you realize that it's your favorite sound in the world. 

tags: @cheerupbarry @srrybutno @97soroka @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee@sunshinehollandd @katsukis1wife @imherefortea @spideyboipete @lonelywidow @louderfortheback @actual-mom-steve-harrington @steveharringtonscarkeys @pennyllanne @ducky-is-dead-inside @ih3artcry1ng @escape-in-time-x @sea040561 @manyfandomsfanvergent @blandyton @liberhoe @annaisweird @dahliamae @bufusregularis @vecnuthy

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[ashesbreadandbutter]

Vox x Alastor || Tell Me Who Did This, Now.

So I know I know, commission work yes yes I'm getting to it BUT! I wrote a little blurb for that little comic @milariro drew for radiostatic which is literally like my favorite ship I think. 👀

Anyway hope y'all like it! ÙwÚ

Word Count: 2k

Rating: PG(?), maybe PG-13. Mostly angsty ish feel?

-

It isn't the first time he's lost track of him somewhere but every time it happens Alastor hopes it's the last. 

He hasn't seen Vox in days and considering how close they are… it's strange, worrisome. 

Vox usually keeps up with him, taking the time to send messages and letters and pop up at the most sudden of times and Alastor always responds. Life in hell has been growing on the two of them, Vox has been so excited recently… so eager to announce that he had a dream, one where he could publicize the two of them, where they could happily pursue their goals… together and Alastor both loved… and despised the very idea. 

Really he himself is fine with his little following; those few sinners, Vox included, who seemed to always tune in but he'd be a liar if he told himself that he didn't see this …new behavior that seemed to jump out of his friend. Vox was a big dreamer, they had spent many long hours talking to each other, laughing and joking while also spewing their deepest hopes and dreams…well usually it was Vox who did so while Alastor listened and encouraged him but he couldn't help but want to stop the other at the same time.

To tell him that he didn't need to go out there and get big and famous or whatever because Alastor likes the way Vox already is but his friend, his silly friend had his hopes for their pitiful, shameful lives down here so who would Alastor really be to stop him?

To put it lightly, Alastor is anxious over the other demon who was still just hardly taller than Alastor's own shoulder. He's worried that something might have happened to his friend considering how long he's been missing now. After all, Alastor had noticed the way they seemed to draw more attention these days when they were out together… the sneaky glances and judging gazes the other sinners would give them.

Alastor doesn't care, couldn't care less especially considering how easy most demons are to get rid of but… Vox had seemed to grow rather conscious of his presence outside because of it all. 

There's been times where he's even mentioned it, brought it up when it was just him and Alastor together.. Alastor could never forget it, the first time it was ever brought up… the way that Vox seemed to look over his shoulder and double check locks and doors with the excuse of making sure they were ‘safe’. 

It angers Alastor. 

Annoys him so bad to the point that he'd kill them, split their skulls and the ground they walked and before Vox’s very own feet but… for some reason whenever Alastor gets to that point… the point of nearly no return, Vox will lightly brush his hand against his own and while that kind, warm smile and tell Alastor that it was okay. 

That they didn't matter. 

That he didn't care. 

And so on and so forth. 

Alastor moves through the room now, annoyance dripping into the air around him as he seems to get ready to go somewhere… to go look for him because after everything they've been through so far he could admit that he didn't… like it when he couldn't keep tabs on Vox. When they weren't together so Alastor could defend him if needed. When he couldn't hover around Vox like a hawk threatening to peck out anyone's eyes who dared to even spill a drop of liquor on his shoes. He's smiling but he's anything but happy as he gets dressed to go out and hunt down Vox himself..

It's not until he's all ready, a clawed hand reaching out to his front door when his ears suddenly perk as the sound of knocking from the other side fills the room. 

Alastor freezes for a moment, his mind simply going blank in that very moment except for the thought of Vox that lingered and as he shifted gears and continued to reach out and turn the door before another knock could be heard, Alastor found himself faced with Vox. 

Immediately there's a surge of electricity that rushes through his body at being faced with his friend. 

He's relieved, for starters, just seeing him but then that turns into confusion, then slowly into unbridled rage when he takes in the sight of the other more closely. 

“Al..” Vox chuckles softly, that little chuckle that Alastor had grown rather fond of over their time of knowing each other even in those moments when he did it after telling some stupid joke or when it happened when they seemed to press close to each other in the moments when they could. He usually loves hearing it but this time he does not. 

Especially because it's glitchy, corrupted from what he can see. 

Not while Vox stands before him looking like a stray, beaten dog who practically limped its way back to its owner.

“I know I'm later than I said I'd be but hey, I'm here now yeah?” Vox starts off, or at least attempts to through riggidy default settings and his scratchy voice box though Alastor seems to understand him anyway. 

He doesn't want to though. 

He doesn't want to be faced by him when he's like this and all Alastor manages to do is let out a glitchy sound himself though unlike Vox he's not tired or worn, he's energized, livid. 

His eyes move over Vox's form; looking at his heavily dirtied and wrinkled shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons then they look at the way Vox seems to cradle one of his arms and of course Alastor takes in his screen which seemed shattered, clearly punched in. 

Rightfully so, Vox seems to grow self conscious as the way Alastor hasn't responded yet. He knew that appearing like this at such a late hour would be one thing for the man but it's so strange to see Alastor so… serious. Vox laughs a little, lowering his gaze as if shy, unwilling to show his face as he slowly looks down to his shoes.

A moment of silence washes over them and Vox can't help but rub his already sore arm.

Maybe he shouldn't have come after all? Perhaps Alastor was even angry with him for doing so after already being hours late… Vox knew he shouldn't have come, should have just dealt with this on his own like he preferred to do so but they both knew Alastor would have come looking for him if he hadn't shown up because that's just who Alastor was when it came to Vox. 

His rushing thoughts come in bundles, so much so that the silence becomes deafening and Vox can't help the way his body wants to just naturally step back and walk away as if he never came to begin with, and maybe that was for the best? He hates bothering Alastor, hated not being strong enough to always hold his ground or to scare others away like Alastor so easily seemed to do and maybe it makes him feel inferior, unworthy of being with the other man which always makes his heart ache when he comes down to such a conclusion. He has so many dreams for them but at times much like these ones he wondered if he was just getting reality messed up with said dreams. 

It's not until a finger slips under his screen and lifts it to make Vox's gaze focus on Alastor's once more but this time… Vox seemed to freeze at what he saw on the other's face, his functioning eye growing wider at the scene as he finds himself suddenly holding his breath. 

He's distorted, glitching and reversing, sigils forming in the air behind him as his eyes look into Vox's. His neck twisted over to the side and eyes big, red, and ticking in a way that makes it seem that Alastor is just barely clinging to patience… like he could burst at any moment in a fit of claws and teeth and as Vox stares up at him, shocked, he can feel shivers run up his back as Alastor continues to hold his head in place. He's gentle but firm, refusing to let this go which was something Vox would also say to him..

To just forget it and move on but no, nonono.

Alastor refused not to be pissed and as far as he knew, he had worked to do..

People to punish, bitches to burn. 

“Who… Did this.. to you?” He says and with the way the room seems to shake it's clear that Alastor is not in fact asking but instead demanding to know. Vox can feel the bloodlust leaking off of the other demon, the fury he carries and Vox was sure that if he was anyone else in hell in that very moment that Alastor probably…wouldn't have hesitated to spill his blood and the ground he stood on. 

Vox recognized the look, his eyes slowly lowering again now while Alastor shifts his hand to caress the side of Vox's face, running his thumb over the undamaged side and though it's a kind gesture Vox can feel the way Alastor's hand seems to lightly shake. 

Vox makes a soft sound, something that he didn't make often and closes the gap between the two of them, wrapping his arms around Alastor and clinging to him and at first the taller of the two freezes at the reaction before slowly but surely… calming, at least as much as he could right now. 

It takes a moment for Alastor to immediately respond but Vox doesn't mind, not when he can feel how warm Alastor was and smell his scent so closely and after everything it seems to take some pressure off the TV demon. When Alastor does hug him back his hold is a bit firmer, a bit tighter, like he may get upset if Vox dares to pull away from him now. 

“Alastor, please…” Vox sighs softly,  brokenly and though Vox's voice box is fucked Alastor still makes out those words and the gentle way Vox seems to speak to him. 

“Please just…just leave it.” He says next, moving to bury his head in Alastor's chest and stepping in closer only to tumble forward onto a knee making Alastor jolt and quickly grip him closer before he finds himself in both of them. “Please let it go… I'll be okay, I'll recover. I always do don't I?” he says, practically begging the other man and Alastor feels his face twitch and he's never before more angry at his own curse for not being able to show just how upset he is right now. Yes of course he was sure Vox would be okay but he despised the idea of the other growing used to being treated this way by others...

“I'll be okay see?” Vox tries to convince the other or maybe… he's trying to convince himself now as he lifts his head and gives Alastor that silly, stupid smile again and it both annoys the deer demon but also convinces him enough to not leave right now and go hunt down however did this for there was all the time in the world to do such later. 

Vox had come to him at this time for a reason and even if the reason was simply because Vox had no one else Alastor didn't care. He'd help him just like he always did… and so with a huff Alastor looks down to Vox with that everlasting smile though it does seem strained. 

“Come inside… I'll take care of you.” He says and though Vox still feels guilty for showing up and possibly ruining Alastor's day with his appearance he also feels… grateful knowing Alastor was there just like he always was. So Vox gives in, sighing and nodding softly, gathering himself and getting to his feet and as Alastor holds the door wide open for him he trails in before the door closes back and snaps shut behind the two of them now allowing them to be alone together, where they were always guaranteed safety from the hellish world around them. 

Where Alastor could continue to keep a close eye on him for just a while longer. 

~

[comicgeekery]

Sherlock and Co.

So I just listened to the latest episode, the conclusion of A Case of Identity. I have to say, it was deeply disappointing. For the most part I've been really enjoying Sherlock and Co. It's been fun and engaging. The actors are great. It's a solid new take on "Sherlock Holmes but in the 21st century". I love that they're going through all the stories of the original canon and giving them modern updates. So many Sherlock Holmes adaptations seem to have the basic trappings of the characters and premise without any interest in the original mysteries. This show is clearly being made with love and deep attention to detail. Also, on a personal note, my heart melts every time it explicitly (and even casually!) confirms that Sherlock is autistic and that that is a DISABILITY for him. He gets overstimulated. It gives him an often restricted diet. He hurts people's feelings from not picking up social cues and feels bad about it! There's also a lot of hints that Sherlock used to struggle to interact with others FAR worse than he currently does, to the point where he has never graduated from any school he attended. And John is kind and supportive, understanding the situation as a friend and a doctor, while also having his own understandable limitations. He gets annoyed with Sherlock sometimes and they need to hash things out. It's not perfect between them, but I can see how they're growing closer as they come to understand each other. John Watson is also handled very interestingly in this podcast. He's clearly got some issues of his own he's going through. There's some obvious PTSD from his time in Afghanistan, but also more mundane issues. He feels unappreciated by his mother and still grieves the father that died when he was ten. He's clearly massively insecure, as he constantly expresses jealousy of other people's wealth, good looks, and success. He seems to perk up every time he hears of an idea that could, in theory, make him rich or successful. He constantly second-guesses himself in any social situation because he's so afraid of looking foolish. I even think the reason that he himself decided to call their detective/podcasting business Sherlock and Co. (rather than Sherlock and Watson or something more evenly balanced) is because of his profound insecurity. He doesn't think anyone would care about the role he plays in the business. Clearly Sherlock is the only interesting person there.

But for all of that, I think this is the most competent, helpful, and good Watson I've ever seen. (ACD's Watson is excellent, but the stories almost always really downplayed his role in the crime-solving.) He is shown, again and again, to be an excellent doctor and more than that, one who is very calm and capable under extreme pressure. (Which makes perfect sense with his history as an army doctor.) If someone gets shot at your wedding, Dr. John Watson is the one who will have the skill and the presence of mind to use an expired condom as a tool to save their life. And he's also a good co-detective. He regularly helps Sherlock see connections that Sherlock might have missed. Things relating to pop culture, to social norms, to anything medical, not to mention all the support and encouragement John offers. And Sherlock genuinely appreciates it! These two are an actual, real team! It's excellent! (I have a soft spot in my heart for Nigel Bruce's Watson, but I can't deny that he inspired a real line of idiotic, totally a sidekick, why-are-you-even-here Watson portrayals. Granted, we've gotten away from that in most modern portrayals; Liu, Freeman, and Law were also very capable, though I think Liu was easily the smartest. It's just refreshing to have a Watson I can respect.) But all of that is a pretty roundabout way of getting to my point of what disappointed me with A Case of Identity. So, in the original Case of Identity story, a woman comes to Sherlock and Watson saying that her fiancee has disappeared. The eventual solution is that everything about this fiancee was a lie. He was actually her evil stepfather in disguise "wooing" her with the intention of disappearing mysteriously and leaving her too heartbroken and loyal to think of marrying anyone else (and thus depriving her stepfather of her fortune). The Sherlock and Co. adaptation has a solid update to the story. It's now about a rich, though insecure, man who's being cat-fished. He loves "Angel", even wants to marry her, and has given her tons of money for two years now. He's only going to Sherlock at all because he has a friend who thinks the situation is sketchy. In a parallel to the original story, it turns out that "Angel" is actually Des, the client's stepfather. It started off as a scheme from Des and the mother, Clara, to keep Miles from dating women they didn't approve of. Then Des went behind Clara's back to keep the charade going and get more and more money, consequently getting more and more intimate with his stepson the whole time. I was already a bit nervous at that point, because Des was coming dangerously close to playing out a transphobic stereotype. Being a man who pretended to be a woman for personal gain, and willing to completely betray and deceive the people closest to him. It also didn't help that John had made a point of saying that there was nothing wrong with being a Tory mere minutes before. (Which to me read as more of his insecurity and need to not alienate the in-universe listeners but certainly wasn't interrogated.) But I tried to be optimistic and kept listening. Unfortunately...it was even worse than I'd feared. Des turned out to not only being grifting his stepson through a semi-incestuous cat-fishing scheme, but he had a split personality. Angel had become real through Des having a mental health crisis. And she could spontaneously take over, which she did in order to grab Clara and hold a knife to her throat when the truth came out. Finally, Angel/Des tries to kill themself, which is something the show has the audacity to make a joke about before the audience knows if Des lived or died.

Sooooo, yeah. That's incredibly offensive on so many levels. Angel, while not quite a trans character (I think?) plays into transphobic rhetoric beat-for-beat. It's also an incredibly cliche representation of split personality disorder that plays into extremely tired representations of people with mental illnesses being violent dangers to society. And that's especially disappointing because of the attention Sherlock and Co. usually pays to portraying mental health issues with sensitivity. What the fuck, Sherlock and Co.? Did you get a new writer for this one? Did they time travel directly from the 1950s? This is cheap drama that hurts. It hurts trans women. It hurts people with mental illnesses. And it hurts the wider queer and disabled communities. Which, if you're trying to get popular with the most vocal Sherlock Holmes fans today, are largely the exact people you most want to like you.

Cards on the table, I've been really hoping this show would finally be the adaptation where John and Sherlock would become an actual, explicit couple. It's something fans have longed for for literal generations and now that all of Sherlock Holmes is in the public domain it can finally definitely happen. I felt like Sherlock and John had good chemistry and were maybe even flirting in previous episodes, but I'll save those theories for now. My point is that this is a show where I believed that could happen. I trusted Sherlock and Co. to be respectful and thoughtful. And I'm not saying that all my goodwill is gone now. But it has taken a hit. Sherlock and Co. has been overwhelmingly clever and interesting, finding creative ways to recast the classic stories while still keeping their hearts. I love the acting, I love the action and mysteries, and I haven't even come close to expressing how much thought I've put into what overarching plot threads might be getting established in each episode.

But I won't be able to continue to enjoy those parts if I come to spend my time listening more concerned about if a plot twist is going to leave me feeling attacked. I don't know who writes for this show and I don't know if you read any reviews on Tumblr, but I hope you do. And I hope you do better in the future. An apology and some good trans representation in the future would be nice. Please, I really want to be able to obsess about your show peacefully!

[sweettjrose]

Quick question for you cuz you seem to know very well the little guy

Do you think Mickey has any bad sides? Bad qualities/Habits

Ooh! I was hoping someone would ask this question. It was sitting in my mind for a while. I love sharing my thoughts on this little guy.

I do think it is important to remember that when it comes to characters like Mickey it can be challenging to ascribe specific traits to him since there are so many interpretations with differing personalities. Mickey in the black and white shorts is different from Mickey in the Gottfredson comics who is different from Mickey in the Paul Rudish shorts and etc. So some traits may fit better for some versions than others.

I don't know if I can say I am the Mickey expert. But I do think about him a lot and if I came up a list of what I think are bad habits or flaws that he has, based on how is generally portrayed and my own personal interpretation, I would say:

Stubborn - To start off, I feel like a common flaw for Mickey is his stubbornness. Once he sets his mind on a certain idea or situation, he has a hard time being convinced of anything else. It can be really difficult to change his mind, though not impossible. I don't think it comes from a place of seeing himself as better than anyone though, but rather from his desire to hold fast to what he believes in. And in some cases, it can have beneficial results. Such as when he is investigating some kind of mystery he tends to drop everything else, unable to change focus until he finally solves it. This usually gives him the push to solve problems most people give up on. But unfortunately, it tends to result in him ignoring the world around him which can be frustrating at times, especially for Minnie. Sometimes I think Mickey even uses these situations as an excuse to push aside things he doesn't want to do and focus on something he would much rather do.

Untamed Curiosity - I feel like this is actually an offshoot of his earlier personality. He was much more mischievous in his earlier appearances, but that was somewhat tamed over the years. However, I do think one element that has remained is this mouse's curiosity for the unknown. It seems like Mickey can't help himself but stick his nose into things he probably shouldn't. Whether it is listening to a conversation, checking a locked room, testing out a weird machine, or even following an odd feeling. I also feel like his stubbornness doesn't really help as it seems like once a curiosity is in his focus, he can't let it go. Mickey rarely likes to cause problems, but if his curiosity overtakes him, he usually ends up being a troublemaker. Sometimes this usually leads to him catching a crook. But other times it results in a big mess that he would have to clean up. I do think though that his mischievousness isn't entirely gone and does pop up every once in a while. Especially when trying to get out of things he finds boring or doesn't want to be in. And sometimes he just wants to be a prankster and have fun with his friends and family. Which is funny until things get out of hand.

Overthinks - Mickey is very intelligent and can come up with pretty clever plans when trying to solve problems. Unfortunately, this comes with the side effect of him overcomplicating even simple situations. This is usually why Goofy is such a vital friend for Mickey. Mickey tends to come up with complex solutions while Goofy tends to show the easier option Mickey tends to overlook. I think part of this does come from Mickey being afraid of being wrong and making mistakes, so he tries his best to be as thorough as he can be, which unfortunately can lead to more mistakes.

Lack of Self-Protection - One positive about Mickey is that he cares about others and would stand up to protect them. But unfortunately, this doesn't always extend to himself. He is not a doormat but tends to lean more "Turn the other Cheek" approach when he is the only one getting bullied (unless things go too far or if others get involved). To be fair, it is important to know when to pick your battles, but this tends to lead into other areas as I feel like he doesn't really share his problems and tends to keep personal issues to himself. I personally see him as the kind of guy you really have to pry to get him to talk about what he is feeling as he would much rather bottle it up to not cause any trouble. I also feel like he rarely is one to ask for help and tends to try and solve it all on his own, especially if he is worried that others may get hurt. The issue is, he doesn't seem to worry about whether he would get hurt.

Takes on Too Much - I also feel like this connects to another flaw as he tends to take on too much and constantly puts himself in risky situations. Whenever a life-threatening situation comes up that could help everyone but is extremely dangerous, he is usually the first in line to do it. It feels like Mickey doesn't even consider his own safety or limitations at all. Sometimes it feels like he is overconfident in his abilities and just believes that he will be okay, which works until it doesn't. It also doesn't help that Mickey has a hard time saying "No", so even if he didn't want to do something or knows he is not capable of doing it, he would probably still do it, not wanting to disappoint anyone. He rarely thinks of himself. And seldom considers what would be best for him. Usually, his friends are the ones to think about his safety and needs.

Need to be Perfect - Though I feel like part of the reason Mickey takes on so much is his need to be the hero. He feels like he has to be a perfect, selfless, and brave role model who does everything without a single complaint. I feel like he overexerts himself because he is afraid of what happens if he doesn't. He is afraid of not being needed or wanted. He is usually the underdog, a small mouse in a world with characters twice his size, and if he isn't constantly proving himself people will leave him behind. I also feel like he has a hard time admitting to mistakes (which connects to his stubbornness) because he feels like he can't make mistakes, or that would show that he isn't as capable as people think. I also think this explains why he has more of a heated rivalry with Mortimer. Mortimer somehow taps into his insecurities in the ways others don't. I feel like Mickey is kind of jealous of Mortimer because he tends to be taken seriously (at first) while Mickey usually needs to earn it. I also kind of wonder if he is worried that if he starts messing up, Minnie and the others will leave him for someone like Mortimer, so he feels like he can't mess up. Ever.

Lack of Self Worth - Unfortunately this means that he is very reliant on others for his self-worth. Luckily Mickey is really good at making friends. But he tends to rely on the existence of his friends for his worth. I can imagine that if for some reason they all stopped existing, I don't think he would even know what to do with himself. While he doesn't need everyone to like him. He does need at least one person to like him to help ground him or I can see him going into a deep depression. I feel like he would really struggle with being alone for too long unless there was some hope of being able to be with his loved ones soon.

But yeah these are the bad qualities that I feel like Mickey generally has. There are probably more, especially ones more specific to certain interpretations, but these are the ones I was able to come up with. As nice as Mickey is, he isn't perfect and his insecurities, overthinking, stubbornness, and curious nature tend to get him in trouble. But fortunately, he is also just as capable of getting out of trouble.

I would honestly love to see other people thoughts on this as well.