#and i'm obsessed with the fact that the people who look down their noses at him for his maverick attitude towards magical application

[talentforlying]

what fascinates me about constantine is that he is well-known for being a very skilled and powerful magus, but at the same time, most of his fellow magic users in the world of hellblazer consider his particular brand of magic to be cheap as sin; one of his more popular monikers is even "the gutter mage". and a lot of it has to do with the way that maguses in hellblazer tend to actively create their own forms of magic, tailored to their strengths.

magic in hellblazer is constantly being reinvented by its users, to the point where some people have created entire subfields that had never been considered before — like ritchie simpson inventing quantum magic, being able to interface with technology in astral form; like map being able to symbiotically draw on the energy of the entire city of london in a way that no other mage Has ever or Will ever be able to duplicate. those two are some of the most powerful magic-users in that entire universe, solely because of their ability to invent. imagination, diligence, and intention are the cornerstones of hellblazer's magic system.

and then you have john constantine, who from the perspective of most of the older folks in the magic community just . . . kinda trails around after them, picking up their bread crumbs. his kit of choice are rituals and spells and artifacts and varieties of magic that already exist, rather than building his own. sure, he's innovative with how he uses them, but there's this general air of like: how the fuck did you accumulate a reputation that puts you in the ranking with all these "Actually Authentic" maguses for being the equivalent of a walking, talking dumpster of other people's used-up skills???

( the trick is: he's fucking worked for it. he's a survivor. he has a reputation as one of the most powerful magic-users because he is one of the most tenacious, the most innovative, and the most ruthless. he's able to be the most tenacious-innovative-ruthless because he doesn't turn tail and run at the first threat to his life. people like map, like clarice sackville, like nathan arcane, they feel that they are crucial to the continued existence of magic and need to stay alive for the greater good of the world, and that's why they will fail where constantine will succeed (and also why they'll call him to do the dirty work for them): because he has absolutely no need to preserve himself or safeguard his skillset beyond his basic human desire to live. because he has no magic that is unique to him, nothing that would go extinct if he did first. because as far as the forward march of magical progress goes, in the eyes of the magic community and himself, he contributes nothing that necessitates his future survival, and he is fucking fine with that, because he's the one who actually helps people. )

[sigmalaussene]

Top ten weird ways Oswald Cobbepot gets called in Gotham

As I was rewatching Gotham, I decided to write down every name that people in the show canonically call Oswald Cobblepot aka the Penguin. It was a wild ride. Please enjoy

10. "Funny looking fellow"

(season one)

We start with a simple one. This isn't even an insult, it's just a fact. He is, indeed, a funny looking fellow. I'm pretty sure they say it more than once too.

9. "The Dapper Gangland Kingpin"

(season two)

This one it's just silly, especially since it was written on a newspaper. Just... that's weird ? Idk it's silly it makes me chuckle

8. "Yellow rat snitch"

(season one)

We start getting a little weirder. Why a rat? And, more importantly, why yellow???

7. "Stupid lame birdbrain"

(season four)

Just so mean. Especially since this scene it's his dumb husband making a room full of people chant it

6. "Golden goose"

(season one)

Right back to season one and it's incredible dialogue. This one is particularly amazing thanks to Oswald's reply to it, which was, of course: "Honk honk". I can't even start to describe that scene. It's a classic.

5. "Beaky nosed freak"

(season five)

Definitely the best nickname the last season had to offer. Like, you know that moment when a guy kills your bestfriend/girlfriend and you call him the silliest name you can think of? This is one of those times.

4. "Scaley faced bitch"

(season one)

This is the first one in the show, directly from the first episode. I am a firm supporter of calling men bitches when they deserve it, and he did, so I wholeheartedly approve this message. Adding the scaley face part just makes it more poetic.

3. "Sad little breadhead"

(season two)

This one from never fails. Imagine it delivered with the most condicending tone in the world. Just amazing. Makes me laugh every time.

2. "Fruitcake leprechaun"

(season two)

This. This is the one that started it all. It was thinking about this one that I decided that this rewatch I was gonna write down all the nicknames. I dont know if it has something to do with english not being my first language, so I don't have the background of the word "fruitcake" used as an homophobic remark, but this name is one of the funniest things I have ever heard in my life.

1. "Limping little chickenbutt second banana"

(season one)

This couldn't not be on the first place. I am obsessed with the writers of this show, i want to get inside their brains. Because like what does it mean? How did they come up with this? I need to know every thought that crossed their mind for them to write this. This is art. This is poetry. Incredible. Amazing. Absolutely insane. Kudos to the actor who played Maroni because if they gave me that line I wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face.

Bonus:

(For the fans, he is also called "the only thing Nygma cares about". Just... you know, in case you forgot)

Some recurrent nicknames are: "Pengy", "Ozzie", "freak", "cockroach", "punk", bird related names (bird/birdman, feathered friend, chicken, turkey...) and "little"/"tiny" followed by almost anything (man, friend, dirtbag, bastard, creep, twerp, freak, weasel...)

Edit: i realize i didn't mention "Major Crumblepot" and that's on me sorry guys

His haircut is described as "disco vampire hair" at one point (another classic)

He is also called "specimen", which is really funny, and "dewdropper"?? for some reason I don't remember but it was in my notes and I couldn't ignore it lmao

[heizlut]

Monsterfucking with full form enjou

i’m obsessed with this and with everything you added when you messaged me! so i present to you:

Sacrificial Lamb

cw: blood, monster fucking, two tongues, degradation, size difference, belly bulge, squirting, loss of virginity, breeding, corruption, insecurity/comfort, labelling this as dark due to the blood

tags: virgin sub fem!reader, dom!enjou/abyss lector, mostly proofread (i tried my best)

m!list here

nsfw under the cut

a/n: this is a long one, so buckle up, keep both hands on the device, and enjoy the ride😉

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆.𖤍.⋆•. ๋𖥔. .𖥔 ๋ 𖤍.

You weren’t unaccustomed to the traditions your people from the Dark Sea had when it came to worshipping those from the abyss. You grew up being told that in order for the abyss to live on and grow even stronger, women of your people were sent as a sacrifice to become an abyssal being’s bride. Whether that was a fact or not, the information intrigued you.

As you grew older, your fascination with the abyss and the creatures that come from it grew into an obsession. You prayed to whatever was listening that you, too, could be the sacrificed bride to one of their beings. Little did you know, your prayers were being answered.

Enjou was the one who heard your pleas to the abyss and he had taken quite an interest in you. He made sure to stay hidden as he watched you go about your days; enamored with the way you looked, talked, laughed, especially the way you often had your head buried in piles of books as you read anything you could find that had to do with the abyss. You were perfect for him.

It didn’t take long for you to get the news that your dreams were finally coming true. Your people dressed you in beautiful, thin white dress that grazed the ground as you walked. When they were done with their preparations, they wished you all the best with bright smiles, yet you failed to catch the hint of fear in their eyes. They knew it wasn’t likely that they’d ever see you again.

Once you reached the edge of your nation, a dark, swirling portal appeared in front of you. You were practically shaking with anticipation; the moment you've been dreaming about for years... From the portal steps a...regular looking human? Sure he stood tall at 6'1", but he seemed so..regular for something that was coming from the abyss.

He looked down at you with the most elated expression, but quickly schooled it as to not alarm you. He pushes his glasses up his nose and gives a soft smile, "Hello, dear~ Let me introduce myself, I am Enjou." You study him for a moment with furrowed eyebrows. Although confused by his appearance, you feel something in your heart pulling you to him.

Your expression shifts into one of sweet innocence as you smile and introduce yourself, "So, I'm your bride or..." You peek around his shoulder at the swirling portal. Enjou chuckles, amused by you, "Are you not satisfied with what you see? Were you expecting me to appear as a monster for our first introduction?" Your cheeks go red and you look down, too embarrassed to meet his golden eyes.

You were so innocent... Twisted thoughts flooded Enjou's mind and he reaches out, gently taking your jaw between his fingers and raising your head, "No need to be embarrassed, darling~ Come with me and I'll show you everything." The sound of his voice and the way he interacted with you made you feel as though you were melting. He releases your jaw, holding his hand out for you to take. With your hand in his, he takes you through the dark portal.

You feel a bit dizzy once you make it through, instinctively leaning your body against his toned one. Enjou laughs softly, feeling like he's falling even harder for you. You were so sweet, naive, and fragile. He wanted to ruin you, but with the best of intentions of course. Once your blurry vision adjusts and you regain your footing, you find yourself in a grand hall. It was dimly lit and seemed to pulse with the energy that feeds into the abyssal realm.

Your breath seems to get caught in your throat from the overwhelming power within and you wince. Enjou stops, standing in front of you now with a look that seemed to be a combination of pity and perverted delight, "You'll get used to this feeling." He leans down, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks in a low, suggestive tone, "You may even grow to crave it." You shiver at his words, but can't help the arousal that begins to pool between your legs.

Enjou straightens up and beckons you to follow him. He leads you to a large bedroom that was bigger than the home you used to reside in, "Welcome home, darling..." You look up at him with round eyes, your lips parted slightly, "This is for me?" That look on your face made his cock twitch and he has to restrain himself from ruining you right then and there, "For us", he corrects you.

Your gaze falls to Enjou, studying him once more, "Can I... See your other form?" Enjou's smile grows wide as he takes a step back, "Eager to see your husband in his true form?" His laugh is dark as his transformation begins. Now standing before you, much taller than his human form at almost 10' tall. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the pyro abyss lector with sharp, long fingers, a dark mask adorned with five curved horns that hid his face, and glowing orange eyes.

Enjou's laugh is much deeper now, "See something you like?" Even in his abyssal form, he was still a tease. You nod timidly and he steps towards you, "I'm sure you're aware that in order to consummate our marriage, you'll need to take me in both forms. And once we do so, the abyssal energy will make you immortal like me." "Yes, I'm aware...", your voice was soft as usual, but your cunt pulsated at the thought of taking him in his current state. "Then be a dear for me and take off that dress~"

You freeze. Obviously you knew you had to be bare before him, but you had always been particularly insecure about the little scars left all over your body from insect bites and the body hair between your legs. You feared he would find you unappealing and send you back. Sensing your hesitation, Enjou tilts his head slightly, "Is something the matter?" You sigh as you fidget with the material of your dress, "What if you don't like how I look? What if you..." You trail off and he takes your small hand in his large one, "I highly doubt that."

His tone was so sincere despite being distorted by his abyssal form. You chew at your bottom lip and finally give in. You slowly slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting the thin, white material fall gracefully to your feet. Enjou is speechless at the sight as he took in every inch, every scar, and the cute patch of hair between your legs. You took his silence as disgust and you quickly reach down for your dress, but he stops you with the sound of your name.

You look up at him in shame that you had no real reason to be feeling. "I've never seen one as beautiful as you. Please... Don't cover yourself from me", his voice deep, but soft. You look up at him as if he hung the stars themselves, "Then... Where do we begin?" If Enjou could smile in this form he would, "Lay on the bed and spread your legs." Your breath catches once more as you lay on the bed, shaking slightly when you spread your legs open for him. The view alone made him want to devour you, but he couldn't discount the fact that you were a virgin. Oh how he planned to take his time teasing and corrupting your sweet little body and mind...

Enjou squats down, now eye-level your untouched cunt. Your eyes widen when two unnatural, pointed tongues slithered out from under his mask. Enjou chuckles darkly, "You'll enjoy this, darling. Trust me." Before you could protest, one tongue begins to leisurely flick against your clit while the other begins to prod at your tight hole. A drawn out moan escapes your lips, a noise you'd never heard yourself make before.

The sensations were so overwhelming, you dropped your hold on your thighs, making them squeeze against Enjou's mask. Without pulling away, he smacks your thigh and his voice growls from within him, "I told you keep those legs spread." With a whimper, you regain your grip on your thighs, trying your best to keep them spread as he demanded. "There's a good girl~", his tone dark and dripping with lust as his tongues begin to move with more fervor.

It doesn't take long for you to come undone, your juices coating the tongue that had been poking at your hole. To his surprise and great delight, the taste of your virginal blood was on his tongue. Your legs shake with overstimulation when Enjou gives a final flick of his other tongue on your swollen clit.

He leans back, satisfied with his work, and begins removing his cock from under his armor. Your lips part slightly as your eyes take in the throbbing length. Enjou's large hand encircles it, squeezing the clear pre cum from it's tip as he lets out a breathy groan, "Look at you... Fucked out already when I haven't even gotten to the best part~ Go on. Lemme hear you beg for me to ruin you." Your own arousal begins to leak onto the sheets, "Please make me yours..."

Your sweet voice carrying such a naughty request drives him wild and he wants to keep teasing to hear more filthy things comes from your lips, "Be specific, dear~ What do you want and where do you want it?" Your voice trembles, not just from nervousness, but from unbridled desire, "I... want your cock in my pussy." Enjou's laughter is twisted and dark as he positions his large body over your small one. One tongue licks its way up your neck while the other trails over your breasts, "As you wish~"

Enjou lines his reddened tip against your glistening entrance, gently pressing against it. You squirm as you feel a newfound pressure, "Wait, no! It won't fit, please!" "I'll make it fit", and with that Enjou, pushes his length into your tight, gummy walls with growl that claws at his throat. You cry out as you're stretched beyond what you could handle and you desperately claw at his shoulders. Once his cock is buried to the hilt, he speaks, "I'm going to move now."

You try your best to protest, but he begins to thrust in and out, slowly at first. Enjou looks down to where you two are connected, letting out a choked laugh that morphs into a groan when he sees your blood and sticky arousal cover his cock, "Look at the mess you're making all over my cock~ I want more."

He pulls out, leaving just the tip inside, then slams into you, beginning a ruthless pace. He was going feral at the sight of your lower abdomen bulging with the outline of his dick. If Enjou had been in his human form, you certainly would have drawn blood from the way you clawed at his back.

Your cries morph into moans of pleasure as his cock bullies into you, shaping it to fit only him. The flood of abyssal energy bleeds into your mind as something begins to shift inside of you. What was originally blinding pain came a new, dark and twisted sensation of uncontrollable lust. You wrap your legs around Enjou's toned waist, pulling him ever closer to you. Needing to feel every inch of his cock as it ruined you forever.

With a deep growl, Enjou's cock throbs wildly inside of you as his orgasm draws closer, "I'm gonna breed this slutty hole. Fuck you so full of my cum til your stomach aches with how full it is." He presses his hand to the outline in your lower abdomen, "Look how full of me you are already. Your body is so greedy~" Your eyes roll back as you let out a loud moan. Your cunt clenching around his length as you reach your climax, squirting all over his cock.

The mess before him and the way you clench so tightly around him bring him over the edge. Seemingly endless spurts of hot cum fill you up as the abyssal energy surrounding you two grows even stronger. After giving you both a moment to catch your breaths and come down from your highs, he slowly pulls out of you. A mix of both your releases and blood leak from your ruined hole. He simply can't resist using one of his tongues to lick it up, not caring that his own cum was amongst the mix.

After licking you clean, Enjou stands up and shifts into a semi-human form. Your eyes were glossy as you tried to prop yourself up on your forearms. You were fully affected by the abyssal energy that consumed the both of you and you needed more. Needed him. Enjou's golden eyes take you in. You looked even more beautiful panting and looking so desperate. He gives you a soft smile as he gets on top of you again, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "I hope you haven't forgotten that you need to take me in this form too."

Your lips curl into a tired smile, the new energy within you giving you confidence you didn't know you had. You take Enjou by surprise when you straddle his lap, grinding your pussy against his still oversized length. Enjou's surprised expression turns to a smirk as he places his hands on your hips, grinding up into you to meet your pace, "My beautiful bride... Are you really so needy for me~?" You nod you head as you keep up your movements on top of him, letting your slick coat his length.

Enjou chuckles, his voice gritty and low, "Then by all means, take what you desire." You reach behind you, taking hold of his thick cock, lining it up to your core once more. Your head rolls back and your eyes flutter as you sink down onto him. His grip on your hips tightens, letting out a hiss when he fills you up. Once you adjust to the feeling again, you being to move. Bouncing on his cock with your hands on his chest to keep you steady.

Enjou is mesmerized by the way you move. He leans up, opening his mouth to let his two tongues explore your breasts. One tongue flicks one nipple as the other wraps itself around the other nipple. You open your eyes, meeting his lustful gaze makes him smirk at you. Fuck, he was really something else. The tongues toying with your breasts and the way his cock makes your lower abdomen bulge as it drags against your walls...

It doesn't take much longer for your cunt to squeeze his length again as you let out a such a filthy sound when you cum. Enjou groans deeply when he releases inside of you for the second time that evening. You collapse on top of him, breathless and not caring that he was still inside of you. Your head rests against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. Enjou runs his fingers through your hair, peppering your forehead with kisses. The action makes you nuzzle into him with an embarrassed groan, "Quit that..."

You were so cute, Enjou couldn't help the laugh that escaped as he puts his fingers under your chin to have you look up at him, "Why would I quit kissing my bride when she's the most beautiful and sexy thing that I'm lucky enough to have?" Your cheeks blossom with red, but before you can hide your face in his chest once more, he kisses you on the lips with a gentle passion that makes you feel whole. Enjou looks deep into your eyes with a look of undying love for you, "My sacrificial lamb... Forever mine."

.𖥔 ๋ .•⋆.𖤍.⋆•. ๋𖥔. .𖥔 ๋ 𖤍.

a/n: whew, i put my heart and soul into this one. i would’ve kept going but it’s long enough as it is 😅

[kyokutsu-sama]

_____________________________

My Future Queen

A/n: Nothing to say other than I'm obsessed with this man🛐🛐 Julius Daddy Novachrono, I love you so much❤️👑

Tw: Nsfw under the line

_____________________________

You entered the bedroom and let out a long, tired sigh. Today had been a tiring and busy day for royalty, a ball was taking place in the palace's great hall. Probably by now some of the nobility guests should be saying goodbye since some had already drunk too much and others were also tired just like you.

Julius must still be down there with a bunch of people around him. He was always the main star and the life of the party, something that the king of Clover would never be even with a crown on his head. Even for you, Julius was the true king.

You took off your shoes and arranged them at the entrance, then you walked to the table next to the bed and placed your accessories there. You ran your fingers over the diamond necklace that Julius offered you to go to the ball, it sparkled so much that you felt sorry for taking it off so you kept it on. You approached the window and saw the capital through the glass. It looked beautiful both night and day.

The door opened and you looked back to find your king walking in with a smile on his face and rosy cheeks. Probably due to alcohol, he was an excellent drinker and would last longer than anyone else.

"Good night my beautiful queen" He said walking towards you and hugged you from behind. "You left the ball early. Are you okay?" His voice next to your neck gave you goosebumps. You were right, there was a certain smell of alcohol coming from him when he spoke to you.

"Yes, I was just a little tired, that's all" You said looking to the side to see his face

"I was worried, I was already thinking that something had happened or that someone made you uncomfortable"

"No, nothing like that. Apart from the fact that some were a little nasty to me" You commented, remembering the scene in which Julius had to intervene after seeing another idiot trying to hit on you. As soon as the man found out that you would be the Wizard king's future wife, he was speechless and left after almost kneeling down and apologizing a million times. You couldn't contain a smile after seeing and remembering the scene once again.

"Are you referring to that man? Don't worry, he knows who you belong to now" Julius brushed the tip of his nose against the skin of your neck before kissing you, his arms tightened around you and pulled you against him

You closed your eyes and enjoyed a little of that pleasurable feeling he was giving you, you were on your way to witnessing a man who was a little different. Julius was a very respectful and affectionate man with you, he always treated you like the queen that you are but when exposed to situations like that he would go crazy and could get a little more harsh and if you still teased him with that, it would be the last straw.

"I never thought that being your future wife would make me a desired woman" You teased, smiling and he turned you to him and looked into your eyes

"It's a shame that none of them can have you because you belong to me, dear" He said before kissing you

His hand remained firm on your waist and the other on your face, his lips seemed soft initially but his gaze was lascivious and so it didn't take long for things to heat up and the kiss became more needy. His hands hurried to remove the white lace dress you had worn for the occasion, the same one he looked at and wondered what it would look like on the bedroom floor.

You then took your hands to your king's cloak and took it off his shoulders, he picked you up and took you to the bed and laying you on the soft sheets. He knelt on the mattress in front of you, looking at you and delighting in you lying in front of him, his hands running over your body before he leaned forward and kissed your neck and marked your skin. He removed your bra and kissed your breasts slowly, your fingers passed through his short blonde strands and your lips opened to sigh heavily, the excitement between your legs was only increasing the more he touched you. Julius moved away and opened your legs, licking his lips at the sight of the wet fabric. His eyes met yours and you felt a certain heat cover your face, he loved how cute you looked blushing like that and kissed you.

"You look so perfect now" He whispered against your lips."The necklace suits you beautifully"He said, appreciating the shine of the precious crystals

His fingers caressed you through the fabric and you shivered, he ran two fingers over your wet slit before removing your last piece of clothing and exposing you to him.

He positioned himself between your thighs and lowered himself to taste what he had been craving all night. Your back formed an arch and your legs weakened, his tongue opened your slippery folds and gave you goosebumps, your king was hungry.

"Julius..." You moaned his name, feeling a wave of pleasure running through your body

The fingers of his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs, his mouth turned his attention to your sensitive bud. You rolled your eyes, hands gripping his hair as you held him closer. You knew he would take out that slight jealousy towards the other idiot just because he messed with you. He was a peaceful man, but don't touch what belonged to him. He didn't express what he felt but those purple irises didn't hide anything from you.

It didn't take you long for you to came on his mouth, which ran down your slit and drank it. The man stood up, licking the corner of his lips and taking off his clothes, you just enjoyed the show, panting and with a slight smile on your face.

"Your smile makes me think you were thinking about this before, don't you?" He asked, running his fingers up your thighs as he looked at you.

"Would it be wrong for a queen to want some attention from her king?"

"No, you could have said it sooner, you know. I like spontaneity" He smiled

"And would you fuck me in the middle of the dance if I asked you, your majesty ?" You sat on the mattress and got closer to his face, only to see a the serious and thoughtful expression on his face, probably imagining the scene, changing to the smile again

"If you insisted..." He suggested and you giggled. "Who would I be to deny something to my future wife and queen?" He closed the distance between you both with a deep kiss as he laid you back on the mattress

One of his hands slid down your body and grabbed your thigh, you moaned against his lips when he took his dick and passed it through your folds, teasing your throbbing entrance.

"Do you want this?" He asked with his forehead against yours and you nodded.

He then kissed your forehead and entered you, your hands ran down his back leaving future red marks. His body started moving against yours, your legs hugged his body closer and his eyes on yours made you feel a little tense from the intensity.

The pace increased and he moved away a little, placing both of your legs on his shoulder, holding them with one arm and resting one hand on the wall behind the bed. The position allowed him to go deeper while he saw you squirming and your hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. The moans were heard even outside the bedroom, Marx would probably be shocked if he could hear it.

Poor baby, too innocent to imagine Julius in a situation like that.

"If that man could only see you now..." The wizard king said, breathing heavily. You felt the blush on your cheeks again at those words. "You will be my queen and everyone will know"

You whimpered beneath him, feeling him go faster and faster as he spoke, it was pushing you to the limit.

You could no longer think straight, much less feel your body, he was giving it his all and you knew you would be sore later. Your half-open eyes caught sight of the man in front of you and you could tell he was close.

"Will you be my good queen and take everything inside you?" He said, thrusting deeper and you writhed with pleasure

"Yeah...yeah, please, I'll take it all" Tears of pleasure prickling the corners of your eyes as he reveled in the sight

You fell apart at that moment, unable to hold it in any longer, he then filled you until you were taking everything and couldn't let it leak. His arm let go of your legs and he bent down kissing your lips, now it didn't seem as rough as at first, it was somehow softer but the desire was still there on his tongue. You moved away from the kiss for a moment to catch your breath since you're both panting now.

He took one of your hands that was holding his face and kissed it gently as his eyes met yours once again.

"You're beautiful, my queen" He whispered and then commenting on your rosy cheeks. "Why are you blushing again?" He joked

"I'm not blushing" You looked away but he turned your face towards him again and kissed your lips once again

"Don't hide your face, I love seeing you like this"He declared with a chuckle, laying down next to you and pulling you to lay on top of him. "We're going to get married soon and have another ball, but I'll make sure this time I hold your hand everywhere and I'll protect you from everything" He promised, kissing the top of your head

You looked into his eyes and saw his confidence in keeping his word. You would undoubtedly be in good hands if you married him.

[usedtobecooler]

if it's not with you | tom grant x fem!reader

Pairing | Tom Grant x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, general banter, flirting, all around fluffiness.

Word Count | 5k

A/N | eeeee i'm so excited to share this fic with you all!! honestly i've fallen in love with tom all over again writing this, i hope you all enjoy this flirty fluffy cuteness!!

This caravan park was easily the worst place you’d ever been on holiday to. You couldn’t even lie to yourself — the entertainment area was outdated, the food was far from good, the staff were mostly rude and unhelpful, and the caravan you’d rented for the week was the biggest piece of shit.

Your idea of a nice, relaxing beachside break from the city was basically down the pan the moment you arrived, though you had to admit the one saving grace was in fact the gorgeous beach, barely thirty steps away from your rental, all golden sand and crashing waves. It was peaceful, quiet — the school summer holidays were over so it only left the caravan owners and the odd few stragglers without kids behind. 

Summer was barely clinging on, the nights were beginning to close in fast and the air was feeling that bit crisper once the sun set, like it had done every Summer since you could remember. There was still the odd humid, hot day, and this was one of them. 

Muggy beyond belief, despite the cool sea breeze rolling in from the East. You were sweating, skin feeling sticky as you sunbathed in peace, laid out in a one piece on your towel. Regardless of the factor thirty, you already knew you were going to burn — you always did, no matter what. The harsh rays from the sun were unforgiving to your sensitive skin, leaving you flushed and freckled.

You feel the figure looming over you pretty quickly. The slight darkness on your left hand side as said person blocked the sun. You let out a deep sigh, using your hand as a makeshift sun visor as you open your eyes carefully, squinting up into the sun.

You spy the caravan park logo on his polo shirt immediately — site worker, clearly. He’s all curly hair, pale skinned and a goofy grin on his face as he clutches onto the magazine you’d taken with you to read, obviously blown off in a gust of wind when you’d been blissfully unaware, “Think this was trying to do a runner on you,” His voice is unexpectedly deep, though still chirpy, as he extends his arm out with the magazine rolled up in his hand.

“Thanks, mate,” You bark out a little embarrassed laugh, propping yourself up on an elbow and taking the magazine from him. Your fingers brush, and you can’t help the flush that creeps up to your cheeks at the barely-there touch, “It’s shit anyway — one of them magazines people get paid fifty quid to share their fake stories to, y’know.” 

The man snorts, shoves his hands into the pockets of his cargo shorts, “I know the ones, my mums obsessed with them. Surely nobody believes the ghost stories?” He’s making conversation, not in any rush to get off, and it’s strange. He’s maybe the second worker you’d encountered who was genuinely an alright person. 

“Oh I know, in this one they’re claiming the ghost made toast in the middle of the night. Didn’t realise they could open a loaf of bread, who’d have thought it?” You humor him, and he properly laughs at that, kicking his toes in the sand as he looks down at you. 

He’s awfully pretty, you notice, as you look up at him properly now the glare of the sun has been blocked a little. Big brown eyes and a freckled nose, tinged pink from too much sun and not enough sunscreen, no doubt. Nice full lips and a cute chin, chains dangling on his neck. Very typical English boy, but that was always your type.

Your mouth runs dry, now that you’re suddenly aware of how attractive this man is and you’ve just called him mate. Ground swallow you now.

“Anyway, I’ve got to get going,” He looks sullen at that, nose scrunching up a little, “Duty calls — these old fuddy-duddies who arrive this time of year always find something to moan about.”

“Well, you enjoy that…” You blush, giggling like a dickhead, suddenly aware of the fact you’re lusting over a man who’s name you don’t even know,  “Sorry, I never got your name. No nametag?”

“Tom,” Tom digs in his pocket, a small triumphant noise escaping him when he pulls the old nametag out between two fingers proudly, showing you it, “I usually don’t wear it. Can’t be fucked when these arseholes complain about the staff and name us to management.” 

“Well, I’ll make sure to name you to the staff when I check out and let them know you were a very helpful young man, Tom,” Your voice drips sarcasm and humour, and you know you’ve got him hook, line and sinker when he bellows a true laugh, throwing his head back and exposing the vast expanse of his neck, veins protruding. Your thighs clench.

You’re both shook out of the little bubble when somebody starts shouting Tom’s name from behind you both, startling you. He rolls his eyes, tapping the watch on his wrist, “Gotta go, darling. You need anything just ask for me personally when you phone, yeah?” 

You nod, dumbstruck as he smiles wide at you, pearly white teeth on display. He takes off in a jog, and for the first time you truly understand the term ‘hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave.’ 

You bump into him again two days later, in the laundry room as you’re banging on the washing machine that currently had four days worth of clothes and underwear locked in it. It’d swallowed your token, locked the doors then refused to start, and you were raging — three quid down the fucking drain, just like that.

He knocks up behind you unexpectedly, his hip catching on the soft flesh of your ass as he leans over to pop a token into it. You suck in a breath and hold it, watching with awestruck eyes as the tendons in his wrist flex when he turns the dial. The machine whirs to life, water beginning to fill the drum in just mere seconds.

“What’d I tell you about just shouting for me if you needed anything?” Tom’s smug, lips so close to your ear they’re almost brushing the shell and you have to literally shove down the gasp that almost makes its way up your throat. He’s so close to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body, and a shiver ripples up your spine. 

“I didn’t expect to need maintenance help for washing my underwear,” You bristle, trying to act calm as he brushes past you and opts for leaning against the machine, hands once again buried deep into his pockets — he’s wearing grey joggers this time, clearly to match the miserable and dreary weather outside. You avert your gaze from the obvious bulge in his trousers, willing yourself to just get a fucking grip.

It doesn’t help when you lock eyes with him, and he’s all gooey brown orbs and long eyelashes. It’s embarrassing how much you fancy him, and now you feel like a right slob — down here in your leggings, hoodie and crocs of all things. Hair up in a messy bun and no makeup on, on account of the severe sunburn on your nose and cheeks.

“C’mon, we’ll go back to the token machine and I’ll get you your money back,” Tom nods towards the door, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You want to tell him you don’t need the money back, but a little part of you wonders — and hopes — that he’s offering to do this so that you have an excuse to wander off with him.

“Sure, lead the way my saviour,” You joke, extending an arm out towards the open door. He scoffs, rolling his eyes with a look that could only be described as fond on his features as he saunters past you. You feel your cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the sunburn this time.

“What’s brought you to Cornwall, then?” He asks conversationally — you’re bumping arms you’re that close, and the corridor isn’t even that narrow, he’s just naturally gravitating towards you. You plod along slowly and he matches your pace, your heart thudding in your chest as your hopes were confirmed; he was being nosey, interested in getting to know you.

“Not much, I like the beach but I live in London so I don’t get to see it much,” You admit, shoving your hands into your hoodie pocket, “I work from home, too. So I thought I’d maybe get some work done whilst I was here. The wifi is shit, by the way.”

Tom winces, shooting you an apologetic look, though it’s clearly a mockery, “Yeah, this place doesn’t have much going for it, darling. Though it’ll give you an excuse to actually enjoy your break instead of worrying about work, right?”

You’re walking so slowly you may as well be at a standstill, and you know it’s because the token machine is barely ten feet away, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” You admit, because it’s true — you’d hardly even thought about your job since you got here, enjoying your time soaking in the sun and the peace away from your roommate, “What about you? You from around here?”

“Born and raised,” Tom shrugs. You glance to the side, watching as his adams apple bobs up and down when he swallows, “I live on the site now, though, have done since I was sixteen. I’m here all year with Kai, you’ve probably seen him around, angry looking dickhead with a buzzcut. A girl called Jade used to live here too but eh, she’s gone now.”

You hum, acknowledging what he’s saying. You want to pry, the way his voice changed when he spoke about this ‘Jade’ character leaves a bitter taste in your mouth — an ex, maybe. But you were basically a stranger to Tom, so why would he explain that to you? 

The both of you stop right at the token machine, and Tom fumbles for his set of keys, flipping them until he finds one with a red tag on it. You watch his hands the entire time, thirsting silently — god, his hands were so nice. For a maintenance guy, they were clean, nails manicured, the skin soft. You could tell he took care of himself, and that made him all the more attractive to you. 

He slips the three pound coins into your hoodie pocket, knocking you out of your daze. His hand bumps against your waist when he pulls it out of said pocket, leaving you feeling flustered. There’s no way he’s just being nice, he’s flirting, albeit subtly. 

“Thank you,” Your voice is breathy, catching in the back of your throat as your eyes search for his again, though it doesn’t take long before his eyes are locking on yours once more, “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Or that three quid, actually, that’ll get me another shitty magazine from the shop and a bottle of Coke.”

Tom laughs, showing off his ridiculously perfect teeth once again, “You’re right, it will. Hopefully the ghost story in this one’s a bit better —” 

There’s a sudden harsh knock on the window behind your head that has you leaping out of your skin. He glances up to where the source of the banging came from, and he’s huffing, rolling his eyes, “Gotta go, darling. Another dickhead to deal with. Remember what I said, need anything just shout for me, yeah? Enjoy your magazine.” 

He lands a soothing hand on your shoulder just barely before he’s taking off, and your skin burns even through the thick material of your hoodie. 

There’s one day left of your holiday. One miserable day. You hadn’t seen Tom at all since your encounter in the laundry area, and you had to admit you were feeling deflated over it. You hadn’t been avoiding him, in fact quite the opposite, but your paths had just never crossed again. 

The weather was unbearably hot once more, worse than the first day you’d met Tom, not even a breeze coming in off the sea, and you were desperate for a cold shower to rinse off the sweat from your now sunkissed skin.

The caravan door slams shut behind you as you step foot inside, basking in the little bit of cool air in the living area that’d been bathed in shade the entire day. You strip off your two-piece without a second thought — your caravan doesn’t look onto any others, and you don’t see anybody around, so there was nobody to scar when you stripped naked. 

At the beginning of your holiday you didn’t believe you’d ever become accustomed to the tight living quarters, especially the bathroom, but now that you’d been at the park for a week you almost couldn’t imagine going back home to your shitty little flat in Central London. You actually enjoyed the peace and quiet, and you were saddened about leaving.

You couldn’t deny that Tom was part of that, too. Though you’d hardly gotten a chance to know him you were drawn in, and the thought of heading home the next day and never seeing him again was weighing heavy on your shoulders. 

Stepping into the tight shower, you twist the dial to turn on the water, only to be engulfed in a roaring hot heat that has you yelping and gasping. The sharp sting of the scalding hot water hitting your sunburnt chest brings tears to your eyes, your hands flapping to turn the dial back until the stream stops.

You jump out of the shower, grabbing for your fluffy towel that you’d set in the open window that morning, pulling it around your bare body and tucking it in until it’s sat nicely. The ends of your hair drip wet, the water cooling fast, an almost pleasant feeling in comparison to what you just felt.

There’s not a second thought before you’re dialing 0 on the phone in the living area and asking for a maintenance person to come look at the shower, reeling off that the water was scalding hot and had burned you. The person on the other end sounds bored, uninterested and far from shocked when you tell her what happened. You hang up and, in your anger, stick up your middle finger at the phone. 

You didn’t even think to ask for Tom. You perch your ass on the arm of the U-shaped sofa, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your leg as you wait, wondering who it’d be that showed up to your call. You really, really hoped it’d be him.

Not even five minutes go by before you’re hearing a rapping of knuckles on the glass pane of the door, and you answer it quickly, all street smarts going out the window as you pull the door open just clad in your towel. Tom stands on the narrow step, clutching onto a metal tool box, and you breathe out a sigh of relief that it’s him.

“Fucking hell, that burn looks sore,” Tom looks with bug eyes at your chest, taking in the look of your skin tinged a deep red, much darker than the rest of your sunburnt body. You flush, moving out of the way to let him in, “If you put in a claim for that this place would be shut down.”

He laughs about it, but visibly looks nervous. You can’t help but wonder if, as much as he complained about the job, he genuinely liked it. Or maybe it was all he knew, which was also probably true, considering he had told you he’d been here living since he was just a teenager. A pang in your chest asserts itself at that realisation.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, it’s my own stupid fault for stepping into the shower before turning it on like a silly bitch,” You shake it off, a wobbly little laugh escaping you, “Nothing a bit of lotion won’t fix, Tom.” 

“No, it’s fucking ridiculous that this even happened,” Tom grunts, stepping past you and wandering the short distance into the bathroom. You follow him like a lost puppy, clutching at the top of your towel with one hand, standing in the doorway as you watch him flip his toolbox open, grabbing for something and banging the shower door open. 

“Dunno why they still rent out this caravan every summer there’s so much shit wrong with it, told the manager it was fit for the scrap yard two years ago,” Tom’s conversational, unscrewing the shower tap and fiddling with it as if you’re not standing there basically naked and still slightly damp from your failed attempt at hosing off.

You’re trying to look anywhere but right in his direction. It’s hard, though. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his arm bulging and straining under the tight material of his polo shirt as he uses his wrench to tighten a bolt, “S’okay, I got it pretty cheap. I’m away home tomorrow, didn’t want the next poor sod to get burnt like I did.”

Tom shoots a glance at you, brows marrying for a moment until he’s turning back to the job at hand, “I didn’t realise you were away so soon, fuck sake. If I’d known I would’ve come and seen you earlier. You’re alright, y’know?” 

“Thank you?” It comes out as a question, and you can’t help but feel somewhat offended by his choice of words, “I suppose you’re alright yourself. Probably the only decent member of staff I’ve spoken to this entire week.” 

“Yeah, the nice face and banter are just a bonus, eh?” Tom flashes you his teeth again and it has you rolling your eyes, though a fond smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “Not like those posh London boys, they’re stuffy and boring.”

“You’re right about that,” You agree, watching as he throws the wrench back into the toolbox blindly, the tool landing correctly in its place. It’s now or never, you think, as he screws the tap back on. This is it, after this last chance meeting you’re not gonna see him again. “Who’d have thought something as simple as catching a blown away magazine would have a girl weak at the knees?” 

You cringe at yourself, though Tom’s head shoots around. He looks at you with a confusion etched on his features, and you have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Surely you were being obvious enough, right?

You watch him dumbly step out of the shower, even going as far as to shut the screen door behind him, “What do you mean?” He asks, quirking a brow. Clearly you weren’t being obvious, then. 

“Is it not totally obvious that I’m into you?” You scoff, wanting to lean forward and rattle that devourable looking neck. He’s clearly so clueless, it would actually be kind of endearing if you didn’t find it so infuriating. 

Tom balks at you, taking a step closer to you, which has him almost right up in your face, with how enclosed the space of the bathroom is, “Really? I’m really shit at reading signals, sorry, love.” 

Love. You melt at the pet name, going all gooey. You take your chance, fingers tugging at your towel until it’s loosening on your body. He watches you with curious eyes that soon turn lust filled, when you let the towel drop to the floor and pool around your feet.

You blush under his intense gaze, taking in the swell of your tits, the pebble of your nipples, the curve of your hips, the mound of your cunt. He takes another step, so you’re basically toe to toe, and he exhales loudly.

“Not done this for a while,” Tom admits, as his large hands engulf your waist, pulling you closer to him until your naked body is flush against him, the soft material of his worn-in work polo a pleasant feeling against your skin, “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod, far too fast, too eager, but he clearly doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in until his plump lips are capturing yours. You melt into it, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him in closer, fingers burying in the hair at the nape of his neck.

Tom deepens the kiss quickly, tongue running over your bottom lip and you open up willingly, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. His own tongue glides along yours deliciously, has your pussy clenching and your legs shaking. He moves you blindly backwards, like he knows the entire layout of this caravan — which he probably does, has probably been here many a time.

The backs of your legs hit the bed and you let yourself fall backward, opening your legs for Tom to nudge between them, one hand still on your waist tightly, other slipping down your leg, fingertips digging into the meat of your thigh. You shiver, unable to contain it, the feeling of the hands you’d thought about so much the last week finally on you was almost enough to drive you crazy.

Tom’s hand skates higher and higher up your thigh, until he’s cupping the heat of your cunt. He’s the one to break the kiss, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes properly, like he’s looking for confirmation that you’re still good and you’re okay to keep going, “You okay if I touch you?” 

You melt. You nod, and he dives in, kissing the side of your neck with spit-slick lips, leaving you gasping and writhing below him. He bumps his hips down into you, and you feel the outline of his hard cock brushing against your inner thigh.

Suddenly, your carnal desire for him overcomes your every being, your hands falling from the back of his neck to fist into his shirt, bunching up big handfuls of the material, “C’mon, you too?” You beg, voice whiny, completely distracted by how Tom bites and kisses at your neck, “Need to see you too.” 

He sits back on his haunches, smirking down at you, hands leaving your body and in turn leaving you cold — though it’s not for long, as you watch him pull his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. He dives back down into you quickly, bumping those godforsaken hips down against your pussy this time, leaving you gasping.

That stupid, shit eating grin never leaves his face until he’s burying his face back into your neck, peppering your skin with kisses, hand nudging between your legs again, until the pads of two of his fingers finally dip in between your slick folds, gathering your juices on them. He grunts against you, rutting his hips down again, “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He mumbles, caught off guard by it.

“Mmph, all for you,” You gasp, breath catching in your throat when he finds the swollen, sensitive bud of your clit and starts rubbing in small, tight circles, until your hips are pushing up into the air, “Oh God —!”

You lose yourself in the feeling of Tom lathering you in kisses, the way his plump lips ghost along the stinging, burnt skin of your chest and soothe it, his fingers working on your clit until your cunt is gushing wetter than before. He’s so sensual, passionate, taking the most attentive care to your body, and it’s driving you wild.

“You feel so good on my fingers,” Tom groans in between kisses, looking at you with those pretty, chocolate brown eyes, now mostly blackened with lust, “Can’t wait to feel you on my cock, babe.” 

You squeal, a moan punching out of you when his fingers leave your clit just barely to dip into the entrance of your pussy and glide back up, taking some of your milky wetness with them. You clench, quivering at his words, a deep heat blooming in the pit of your belly, alarmingly fast, “I’m so close,” You admit, losing yourself in the pleasure of Tom’s fingers catching on your clit, winding you up tight, tight, tight.

Tom kisses the swell of your breast, lips dragging down until they latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking until you’re crying out. He can’t take his eyes off of you, watching every contortion of your face as he makes you fall apart. Your fingers grip into his curls, tugging lightly until he’s groaning, vibrations echoing up your chest.

His fingers work at that same torturing pace, sliding in circles until you’re arching off the bed slightly, coil in your tummy snapping, your entire body tensing and going lax just as fast as your orgasm washes over you, a gush of slick slipping from your hole as you shake through it.

Tom works you through it until you’re jerking away, fingers unwinding from his hair and pushing at his shoulders instead. He presses a light kiss to your nipple, pulling himself up and slipping his fingers from your cunt, “Was that okay?” He asks, though he’s smiling, proud of himself, clearly.

You nod, catching sight of the prominent bulge in his grey joggers, sudden desperation to get to his cock overtaking you — you lean up, tugging at the waistband of the offending material until it’s bunched around his thighs, uncut cock springing out proudly, you gasp, “No underwear? You always wander around like this, you slag?”

Tom laughs, shaking his head, “No, I wasn’t on shift but took the call because I knew this was your caravan,” He admits, and you giggle, a little swell of pride in your chest. That little admission was enough for you, he did like you as much as you liked him. 

He dives back into you, capturing your lips with his own, and you take that opportunity to get a feel for his cock, deft fingers blindly wrapping around the length and giving him an experimental tug, pulling the foreskin back. He gasps into your mouth as you work him up and down, your thumb swiping over the tip, and he’s punching his hips into your hand.

“Keep doing that an’ I’m gonna cum before I get to fuck you,” He mumbles against your mouth, nibbling at your bottom lip just a little. You take that as your cue to stop, hand dropping from his cock and instead wrapping around his bicep.

He makes a show of it, like an arsehole, grabbing a hold of his cock and sliding the tip through the mess of your cunt, catching on your clit and gliding it back down, until you’re gasping and silently begging for it, digging your nails into the meat of his tanned arms.

“C’mon, Tom. Please?” You whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes, and he takes the bait — he slips his cock into you in one fluid motion, until his balls are flush against your ass. You couldn’t have been prepared for the sheer thickness of him stretching you from the inside out, a gasp escaping you when the head of his cock brushes along your frontal wall.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Tom moans, burying his head into the other side of your neck this time, kissing and biting at your flesh until it’s raised. He pulls out, slamming back into you to the hilt, and you clench around him, unable to help it, the curved head of his cock brushing against the spongey part of your cunt perfectly, “God, babe, don’t do that, I’ll cum so quick.”

You moan, clenching around him again until he’s groaning, fucking in and out of you properly, your cunt sucking him in, gushing around his length. You’re overwhelmed by the feeling of him all over you, his lips and teeth on your neck, his hair tickling your face, his toned torso crushing down into yours, his cock sliding in and out of the tight heat of your pussy.

“You feel so good around me, fuck,” Tom’s mumbling against you, words almost getting lost in your skin, but you’re fucking melting for it, the praises having you keening up into him.

You feel your orgasm building quickly, unaware of how loud you’re moaning until Tom’s picking up the pace of his thrusts, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing in the room, the wet schlick of your pussy mixing with the other sinful noises. 

“M’gonna cum,” You cry, tears pricking at your eyes as your tummy blooms with heat once again, orgasm building a lot quicker this time than the last time, and Tom pulls himself away from the crevice of your neck, looking at you with his lust blown eyes, swollen red lips open in a constant moan, “Fuck, Tom, s’good, so good,”

You’re babbling and Tom groans, fucking you so rough you’re sliding up the bed — your high hits you so hard you see stars, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt flutters and gushes around the girth of Tom’s cock, fingernails biting into his arms so hard that you know you’re going to leave behind broken skin.

“Oh shit, oh fuck,” Tom’s voice goes high pitched, eyes rolling into his skull as your pussy grips him like a vice, and he’s coming too, hips stuttering as he paints your walls in his release, cock pulsing in the tight heat of your cunt.

You mewl, spent body giving into everything. You feel like you’re floating, unable to comprehend what just happened. Tom’s looking down at you with this big dopey grin and you smile back, leaning up to kiss him languidly as his spent cock goes soft.

Tom slips out of you with a hiss, collapsing down next to you, chest still heaving on breath, “You sure you’ve gotta go home tomorrow, darling?” He asks, voice quiet as he tugs you into him, those big arms engulfing you in a tight cuddle. Your whole body melts into his, your mind blank of anything but him. Maybe you didn’t have to go home just yet. 

“I suppose I could see about hanging around for another week… or two,” You admit, and Tom cackles in triumph, squeezing you tighter until you’re giggling into his chest, heart swelling.

[halfway-happyyy]

cool my desire (rooster bradshaw)

AN: hi friends! i got sent this message a couple days ago and have been obsessing about it ever since. 18+ only! this piece is under a cut for obvious (sexual) reasons. warnings include: public oral sex (f receiving) masturbation (f&m), dirty talk, swearing, etc. hope you enjoy 💕

Pairing: rooster bradshaw x female reader (she/her pronouns)

song inspo: i'm on fire - bruce springsteen

Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman sitting directly opposite him. The second one is that she’s just announced that she’s never had an orgasm. He thinks he misheard her the first time around, so he strains above the rock music blaring from the bar's jukebox and asks her to repeat herself.

“I've never had an orgasm.”

It exits her mouth in the kind of nonchalant way in which one might announce that it's raining outside, or that they're hungry.

Rooster glances at Hangman who wears the same confused expression, and suddenly she laughs, and Rooster reckons it’s a sound he'd be happy to listen to until his dying day.

“Gosh, if I got compensated for every time I got the same reaction I could retire and live happily on a private island somewhere. For some reason it’s a concept most people have a hard time coming to terms with.”

Bob is just as floored as the rest of the gang. He pushes his wire-frame glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and asks, “When you say never?”

Rooster watches her shrug.

“It’s been my experience that in the heat of the moment, most people just don’t care.”

And Rooster suddenly thinks- I care.

Coyote tips back the rest of his beer, setting the bottle on the wooden tabletop with a resounding clank. “I’d accept this challenge any day, and all I would need is ten minutes to do it.” He tosses her a wink and Rooster’s cheeks flame from equal parts envy and second-hand embarrassment.

“Wow, Coyote. Ten minutes only? Not exactly selling the experience here, are you?” Her teasing tone and wry smile causes the rest of the group to dissolve into fits of low whistles and peeling laughter.

“Wait- so you mean to tell all of us that you fly combat planes for the United States Navy for a living and you’ve never experienced an orgasm?” Hangman’s Texan drawl is incredulous.

She nods her head, her dazzling gaze narrowed. “I can’t imagine how the two are related, but yes Jake, that is what I’m saying.”

“I think it’s sad.” Bob murmurs lowly and Rooster can't help agreeing with him. “More people could benefit from taking the time to consider their partner’s pleasure.”

Hangman snorts. “Sex is sex, Bob. Remind me again which fairy tale you’ll be reading before bed tonight?”

“Yikes Jake. I pity anyone who has the misfortune of sharing a bed with you.” She turns to Bob and offers the unassuming pilot a reassuring smile. “Thanks Bob.”

Rooster clears his throat, suddenly self-conscious of the fact he chose not to partake in the festivities this evening. “For what it’s worth, I think Bob’s right. Making sure your partner gets there is most of the pleasure already. At least for me, anyway.”

Hangman slaps his hand on the table twice, his expression triumphant. “Well, there you have it, kid. If you ever get desperate for a lesson, I’m sure any one of us would be happy to offer our enthusiastic assistance.”

She laughs again, and this time it causes goosebumps to bloom on Rooster’s arms. “How generous of you, Jake. Guess I’d have to be pretty damn desperate though, huh?”

Despite every effort, Rooster doesn’t get much sleep that night. Instead, he spends most of his waking moments trying not to think about how she would look spread out before him, ready and waiting and so willing to do anything he tells her. His cock swells at the mere thought of it all, and he knows the only way rest will come for him is if he carves himself out a shred of release. It won't be enough, but it'll be something. Snaking his hand down the front of his body, he palms the erection straining the crotch of his briefs.

“Fuck,” He breathes out and dips a hand beneath the elastic waistband to pump slowly along the length of his thick shaft.

His eyes fall shut as he pictures her before him; can practically see her arousal drip from her as she touches herself the way he wants her to- the way he knows will have her coming undone for him. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he continues working steadily along his cock. He swipes the rough pad of his thumb over his sensitive slit, swirling the pre-come around it and reveling in the feeling of it as it drips down the underside of his shaft. “Oh god,” He whines out into the still air before him while he shamelessly fucks his fist. He imagines her fucking herself on her fingers; imagines the filthy noises that fall from her lips the closer she gets to her rapture; imagines that he is the sole orchestrator of her pleasure and all of it is enough to get him there. His hips rut desperately into his tight fist, his head falls back against the pillow in unbridled ecstasy, and he comes hard all over himself, his lower abdomen painted with his hot, sticky seed.

Sleep descends on him heavily after that.

~

“Would you like to go for a drive with me?” It’s been over a week since he’d first thought of her, and he asks her on a whim because he knows if he doesn’t do it soon, he’ll regret it for a lifetime.

She looks hesitant; doesn’t know which angle he’s playing at which is fair, because he’s not entirely sure either. “A drive?” She asks, her head cocked to the side.

Rooster nods. “A drive. We can get drinks or food, whichever you prefer.”

So, she agrees. They drive to a local pizza joint, pick up a large ham and pineapple pie (though Rooster detests the ungodly yellow fruit) and park on a deserted end of beach, their legs hanging off the back end of Rooster’s 1975 Ford Bronco.

“I’m fairly certain I can do it.” He squints out at the setting orange sun as it sinks low over the Pacific Ocean before them.

She washes down the last bite of her pizza with a swig of beer from their shared bottle, her eyebrow quirked high in amusement. “Do what?” She asks, but the glint in her eyes tells him she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

Rooster turns to her, his jaw set. “Give you an orgasm.”

She shakes her head, folds her arms across her chest in defiance. “Believe me, Rooster. Many a brave soul have tried and failed before you. I reckon I may just be broken.”

He gives his head a half-shake. “You’re not broken.”

It’s certainly not your fault no one’s ever taken the time to learn your body.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her voice quiet.

Rooster nods.

“That night at the bar last week, when I so readily shared with everyone that I had never had one?”

Rooster nods again, encouragingly.

“I went home and I touched myself.” Her admission is so quiet, Rooster almost misses it.

He swallows hard- tries in vain to keep his voice level, even. “You touched yourself?”

She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and nods her head. “I was thinking of you.”

It’s Rooster’s turn to bite his lip to keep from groaning out into the humid air before him, and his cock stirs in the crotch of his jeans. “What were you thinking about?”

Her cheeks redden in embarrassment and God, Rooster doesn’t know what to do with himself. “I was thinking about your fingers, your mouth, your cock. I was thinking about how good it would feel to finally be able to come for you.”

“Jesus,” Rooster breathes out. “Did you finish, sweetheart?”

“No.” She murmurs, her tone thick with disappointment.

He gives his head a half-shake, his hazel gaze sharp. “That just won’t do, will it?” Slipping off the edge of the truck, he turns to her, and the urge to reach out and touch her is almost too much to bear. “I want you to show me.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I want you to show me the way you touched yourself.”

She glances around at the barren beach, silently weighing the pros and cons of his demand. “Right here?”

“Right here.” Rooster affirms.

Leaning back, she hikes the sundress she’s worn over the tops of her thighs and Rooster’s throat dries like sandpaper when he notices she’s forgone underwear for the evening. He watches with half-lidded eyes as she sucks two fingers into her mouth- gets them nice and slick with her spit, and then dances them slowly down the front of her body to her clit. Rooster braces his arms on either side of her legs and watches her work her magic. She starts off slow, by pressing firm, steady circles into her swollen bundle of nerves. Just as he had predicted over a week ago, her arousal nearly drips from her slit and he has to take a deep breath to center himself to keep from swiping a fingertip down the length of it. He just knows it tastes heavenly. His cock jumps at the mere thought of tasting her- and he doubts he’ll be able to put off touching himself for much longer.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

Her eyes flutter closed and all she can manage is a low, desperate mewl.

“You want more?” Rooster asks and all she can do is nod her head. “Give yourself more, then.”

She does as she’s told and inserts a finger into her hot, wet core, and it’s all Rooster can do to keep from groaning out, loudly. “Like this?” She gasps, and he nods above her in approval.

“Exactly like that, sweetheart. Keep going.”

“Wish it was your cock,” She whimpers, and Rooster swears to God, this is the sexiest thing he’s ever been privy to. Her words send what feels like every ounce of blood in his body to his dick, and he palms the front of his crotch, needily.

“It will be soon, baby. Just need to be patient. Need you to be a good girl and come for me.”

She inserts a second finger into herself and cries out at the full sensation, her other finger still pressing roving circles into her clit. Rooster peppers kisses over her the expanse of her exposed collarbone, encouraging her through it all. “That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so good. You keep going like this, and you and I’ll both be coming apart in no time.” It’s quiet while he studies her; the only audible noise between them are the obscene sounds her fingers make as she fucks herself with them, and the sweet moans that rip from her throat every couple of seconds. Rooster can feel her start to tremble beneath him; he watches her eyes widen as the realization becomes apparent to her. “That’s right, sweetheart. You’re so close,” Nodding in encouragement, he watches a thin sheen of perspiration bloom over her chest and neck, her lips part and her head drops back, and he doubts she’s ever looked more breathtaking. “Don’t stop now, you’re so close…” He whispers in earnest. “I’ll get you there, I promise.”

Her hands are all but frenzied movement now as she’s trembles violently beneath him and he presses his lips to her temple to keep her grounded to him. “Rooster,” She gasps. And he nods against her.

“If its time, let go. I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Her fingertips grasp at the impossibly hard, warm skin of his shoulder blades. She clasps on to him for dear life as pleasure blooms inside of her like fireworks on a warm July evening, and Rooster’s doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last like this. “Fuck, I’m going to come, Rooster.” She throws her head back and finishes hard around her fingers, her entire body quaking from the effort that took. Rooster holds her to him while she comes down from her high, her body entirely alive and electric with sheer energy.

“God, you did so good just now.” Rooster’s voice is hoarse and wrecked and thick with lust. “Look at you,” He whispers and presses a kiss to her flushed cheek. “How did that feel?”

She swallows hard, still in a bliss-induced trance. “I can’t believe it…”

Rooster chuckles against her. “You ready for one more?”

Before she can answer, he pulls her to the edge of the truck, dropping to his knees in the warm sand. His cock throbs uncomfortably and he brushes a rough palm over it to glean some form of friction. He hovers above her soaked entrance; the sheer, heady scent of her is nearly enough to have him coming in his jeans. He rubs the warm palms of his hands up and down the outside of her soft thighs and glances up at her. “May I show you another way?”

She nods wordlessly, with eyes half-lidded and blown over by hunger for him.

Rooster wants to take his time- wants to savour every single second of this in case it never happens again, but the urge to taste her is entirely overwhelming. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thighs and works his way up, the all-encompassing heat from her leaves him dizzy and breathless with want. He palms his erection, stroking it fervently through the fabric of his jeans and moans against her at the rough sensation of the denim on his sensitive skin.

“Are you touching yourself?” She asks, breathlessly.

Rooster swears to God, he feels her get a little more wet as he nods against her.

He licks a long, wet stripe up the length of her soaked slit with the flat of his tongue and nearly groans out at the taste of her. It’s an unendingly perfect combination of slightly salty and sweet, and he reckons he could get drunk off it if he had enough.

“Holy shit, Rooster.” She whimpers, and her fingers find purchase in his auburn hair.

He nods against her, and grazes his teeth over her swollen clit, earning him another obscenely sexy moan. “God, you taste good sweetheart.” He pulls away from her heat to tell her that, and his breath as it fans out over her warm wetness causes her to quake violently beneath him. He doesn’t allow her a moment of respite before he’s back at it, lapping at her folds like a she’s the most delicious treat on the planet. And to him, she is. His skilled fingertips dance along the length of her thighs, her hips, her ass. He wants to memorize every inch of her body that he can, lest he’s not lucky enough to experience her again.

“God damn it, you’re good at this Rooster.” She swears, and her thighs tighten involuntarily around his head. He grins against her, wickedly. Without warning, he inserts three thick fingers inside of her and the wonderfully full feeling they bring her causes her to cry out into the warm evening air before them. Rooster doesn’t give a flying fuck if anyone hears them at this point; they are exactly where they’re supposed to be. He could die doing this, and he would die a happy man. He fucks his fingers into her with reckless abandon; the first sign of her looming release is in the feeling of her clit against his tongue; how it swells and throbs the longer he sucks at it. “Oh, Rooster…” She keens, desperately. Her fingers tug at his hair, and the sharp burst of pain it brings him causes him to moan against her and the vibrations from that alone are all it takes before she’s falling off the precipice and into his willing arms. Rooster presses a free hand to her lower tummy as she spasms around the fingers still buried to the hilt inside of her and a flood of wetness bursts from her, soaking him and everything around them within a certain radius. Rooster's fingers fall from her, and she whimpers at the sudden loss of fullness. He rests his head in her lap, closing his eyes and trying to focus on regulating his breathing. He’s still so fucking hard right now, it’s a wonder he’s even upright at all.

“Jesus, Rooster, that was something else.” Her voice is raspy and shot from their recent activities and Rooster smiles softly as he listens to the fervent hammering of her heartbeat against the top of his head.

“Told you I could do it,” He laughs, breathlessly.

She giggles against him and his heart soars. “What about you, though?” She cards a hand through his damp hair.

“I’ll be alright.”

She shakes her head, her gaze knowing. “I want you, Rooster. And I’m going to have you.”

Of two things Rooster Bradshaw is absolutely certain: the first one is that he is helplessly in love with the woman beneath him. The second is that he doesn’t know when- and he doesn’t know how, but he is going to spend the rest of his life having her come apart for him like that.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

First off, love your writing, IT MAKES ME FEEL THINGS😭😭 but…

Can we please get more of yandre emo boy Ashton I JUST READ IT AND IM DROOLING SCREAMING CRYING GIGGLING AMD KICKING MY FEET😭🧎‍♀️🤪🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

THANK YOU❤️❤️🤭🤭🤭

(If not that’s okay, ignore this bae🫶)

Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo and his beloved popular bitch

Ayo, thank you for the compliment! I'm glad my writings made you feel things (I don't know what though LMAO)

Actually, I'm not planning to follow up Ashton, but hey, at least it would break my writer's block (lol it's just laziness) so here ya go!

Sorry that it took days though 😔

FOR THIS ONE, I RECOMMEND READING THE FIC FIRST BEFORE THE DRABBLE (this one).

Read the yandere emo fic here!

💌Little Ashton was misunderstood a lot as a child. He never really liked the same things the other children liked, and he had this morbid curiosity with death and occult.

💌Of course, this undoubtedly scared his family, making him out to be some sort of psychopath.

💌This irked Ashton of course. He's just... That. He still loves his parents, and nothing would change that.

💌But the fact that they're so conservative that it's actually bringing Ashton down is what drove him over the edge to find a school far, far away from his family.

💌A small, quaint town, yet filled with teenagers. It was kind of a nightmare when Ashton found out, but he gritted his teeth and thought that maybe, with the current years, maybe they won't judge him. Maybe.

💌So, he indulged more in his Emo lifestyle. He religiously listened to green day, Panic! At the Disco, My Chemical Romance...

💌He even got into writing poems as a way to put out his feelings that he never got to tell other people.

💌 He's actually very sensitive with emotions and feelings. So technically, he should be a great friend candidate, right?

💌But once he got into the school year, that's when he knew, that his life would be living hell. Stereotypes left and right. Mean cheerleaders and jocks that ostracized his choice of clothing, snobby rich students that turn their noses on him just because he's not that rich, geeks and nerds that keeps getting in his way, thinking he's one of them.

💌"Fuck. Get me out of here. Nobody understands me."

💌He didn't realize himself, but he's also slowly being a stereotype. Always alone, writing poems, and being unnecessarily nihilistic.

💌Until of course, one day, you transfered. You, your pink rover, and your slutty little outfit.

💌God, just looking at you and your charming personality made Ashton hard fall for you.

💌He wants you. So bad.

💌So he dabbled back into the occults. He found an old book in an abandoned "witch's hut" that he went on a mad hunt for weeks. Apparently, the witch that lived there was a matchmaker witch, who gave love potions to those really desperate.

💌At first, Ashton didn't believe it. Especially that it involves sampaguita, a flower not native to his town. How did the witch even get the flowers?

💌But there he was, mixing and creating the potion under the moonlight and putting your hair and his in the pot. Creating a love potion that smelled like the sampaguitas he had to smuggle in.

💌He wrote you letters everyday, obsessing and hyper fixating on your allure and beauty. Confessing over and over again on paper that looks old and aged with writing that looks like it came from a fountain pen. With a spritz of the love potion, he would put it in your locker.

💌God, who knew that it would work?

💌Day by day, he watched you read the letters. At first, you were disgusted (much to his dismay) but slowly, you started to read the letters with a neutral face, then a smile, then with a squeal and then a desperate plea for him to come and fuck you already.

💌Maybe putting his... Semen on your love potion got you desperate for him carnally, rather than romantically.

💌But no fretting, he would just make you fall for him.

💌And as you moan and scream out his name as he pounds into your tight hole like the feral, fuck machine he is,

💌He was pleading to the moon to see his bleeding heart and bare soul to make you his.

💌And if the moon won't allow it,

💌Well, it's nothing more love potions won't do.

💌"my beloved, why don't you drink this sweet tea I made? Why is it pink and smells floral? It's a new tea from Japan. Sakura, from what I know. It's glowing? Nonsense, love. It's probably just the lighting."

💌"Now drink up, don't let a drop go to waste."

[auteurdelabre]

Losing our Minds Together (Part 3) Dad!Joelxf!Reader

Part 3

Summary: Forget when Harry met Sally, this is when Frank met Bill… plus some other important stuff

Rating: 18+ (for future chapters)

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) , Bill x Frank, Ellie x Riley, Tommy x Maria

Warnings: This is saccharine slice of life with smut and a Softish!Joel. You have been warned. There is smut, but when it gets to those chapters you will have plenty of warning.

A/N: I hope you like it and if you do please reblog and all that good shit. Thanks y'all!

masterlist

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

Ellie comes for sweet tea three times in the following week. Only approaching when she sees you out in your yard, either sun tanning or trying to make your backyard look presentable.

You won't admit it, but Joel's prettying up of his yard makes yours look like shit. It propels you off the couch to mow your overgrown lawn and trim the bushes that separate your yard from his. It makes you power wash your driveway and consider painting the house before you remember you don't have the money for that.

When Ellie stops by, hovering on the property line between your two homes like a lonely ghost you always greet her with a "hey honey". After the second time, she stops cringing at it. 

You never deny her request for sweet tea; never tell her that you're too busy. But you do involve her in what you're doing when she asks during a task.

"I'm pulling weeds today kid," you tell her, Fanning your overheated face. "I'll trade ya some sweet tea for some weed pulling."

She smiles, already clamoring over to you. "Deal."

Ellie gets down on her knees, grunting in the sunshine as she helps you pull weeds one afternoon. 

Joel watches this, fingers parting the blinds as he watches you smile behind your sunglasses, waving Ellie over. 

She talks a bit during these times with you. Not much and never about life before the move. Usually just stories about books she wants to read or television programs she's watching. 

She complains that Joel is always up early wanting to unpack and get their house ready. That he always insists she eat breakfast, even if she's tired. That makes you smile softly. You wonder why he's Joel and not Dad, but you don't press. 

She talks about feeling lonely here and that you're the only one in the neighborhood who isn't "weird". You try not to be too flattered by that (but you are). 

You find out from Marlene that her daughter Riley is at camp for the next week when the two of you get your mail at the same time. You mention Ellie and their ages and Marlene agrees to encourage Riley to set up a play date of sorts. 

"Or whatever teenagers do now," she says with a shrug that has you smirking. Marlene is one of the cooler people on the block.

When you see Joel in the backyard the next morning you consider telling him all of this. But you don't. 

You still don't know what you think of him. 

///

There is just something about Bill.

Something that makes Frank go weak in the knees. Is it his serious countenance? The single minded way he goes through life? The fact that he doesn't give a shit about what others think of him? 

Maybe it's all of that. Maybe it's the focus he has for whatever his task at hand might be and Frank imagining how that focus would translate into the bedroom. 

Whatever it is, from the second Frank watched Bill first come into the coffee shop and he mumbled out an order for a "normal coffee, none of that whipped cold brew fancy shit", Frank was gone. 

Obsessed with the man's steely gaze looking out from almost cherub-like features with his wide eyes and delicate nose. Frank thinks he has facial hair because of such features, hiding the soft round of his face behind a beard and sandy hair he needs to tuck behind his ears. 

Frank has never had trouble finding men to warm his bed and spend his days with. Frank is handsome, fit, dresses well. The nature of his job meant there were no shortage of creative men who loved fiercely. 

Bill is so single minded. He knows exactly what he wants and how. Frank just knows that when Bill loves, he does so long and deep with that same focus and drive. Frank just knows that his kind of love abides all seasons. 

He decides that today he's going to go to the cafe around the corner. He's going to ask Bill how he is. Something subtle. Something casual.

He's just desperate for an interaction. 

///

It strikes you as hilarious when you head out the next week to go to Frank's gallery and notice Joel's front door open. It's not the fact that the door is open that strikes you as funny, more the collection of women gathered outside of it. 

Kathleen, Marlene and even a neighbor from down the street you don't even know.

Apparently the news going around is that Joel wears no wedding ring and no wife or girlfriend has been seen in the vicinity. Subsequently they've all come to spy the latest bachelor armed with casserole dishes and painted on smiles. 

You see Joel's grinning face chatting with these women and you realize you had him pegged correctly right from the start. 

Self centered egomaniac.

The kind of person that waltzes up to a stranger with their hands full and asks for bags. The kind of man who loves the attention of these women desperate to inject their dull suburban lives with a bit of intrigue. 

You pull yourself into your car, your eyes hidden behind sunglasses and glancing over to the far window of Joel's house to see Ellie looking glumly out of it. She isn't staring at anything in particular, just sort of zoning out, but her eyes look troubled. She looks lonely. You recognize that look. 

The look you used to wear when you were her age. You sigh, pondering a moment before getting back out of your car. You saunter across the lawn, your eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. 

Your neighbors greet you with tacit smiles as you come up behind them. Their eyes fall to your empty arms bearing no welcome-wagon-type offering. 

"So this is where the party is," you offer drolly. The women smile, some laughing softly. Joel looks truly taken aback to see you here willingly. Every other time he's seen you you've ignored him. 

"We're just welcoming Joel here to the neighborhood," Kathleen says matter of factly. "That's just how some of us were raised."

You roll your eyes behind your sunglasses but Joel darts his eyes to the smug looking woman. 

"She already introduced herself," Joel states firmly. "First day I got here in fact."

"Really?" Now it's Kathleen's turn to look put out. You raise a curious brow behind your sunglasses at Joel and he grins.

"Yep. Sure was memorable."

You feel your mouth fighting not to curve into a smile at that. You turn your attention to why you came over in the first place. 

"You mind if I take Ellie on a little adventure?" 

Joel for the first time since you've met him looks anxious. His mouth thins and he darts a look at your car. 

"I'm a safe driver and you know where I live." You let your mouth curl into a smile at that. "But I understand if it's not okay."

The women seem to be observing this interaction and have gone quiet, eyes ping pointing from you to Joel and back again as he considers. 

He stares at your car a long time before his dark eyes move to your face. He blinks and then nods before he's turning to call out over his shoulder. 

"Ellie? Neighbor's here. The artist."

You raise a brow curious at that. You hear the padding of feet and Ellie's pinched face appears around the corner. When she sees its you it relaxes into a sort of shy tight-lipped grin.

"Hey."

"Hey you wanna come to an art gallery with me? Help me pick some stuff up?"

"Hell yeah."

Ellie is already pulling on her sneakers. You smile, tilting a nod at Joel. The other women are offering hellos to Ellie, but she ignores them and you can tell they're irritated at your intrusion.  You’ve messed up the flirty flow they had going on.

"Don't worry, I'll have her home by supper," you call over your shoulder at a pensive looking Joel. "Unless I sell her off."

Ellie smiles at this and you make sure she's buckled in before you back out of the driveway. She gives a wave to Joel and the image of him surrounded by women with casserole dishes grows small in the rearview mirror.

"Looks like the whole welcoming committee came out," you say with a wry grin as you turn the radio station to something without static. 

"Yeah. Fucking annoying."

"I bet."

"Is it always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Neighbors bringing food?"

"Only when the neighbor is hot, male and single," you say with a laugh. "When Shelton moved in with his wife all they got were a wave and a nice to meet you."

Ellie wrinkles her nose at the thought of Joel being considered "hot". She looks out the window, watching as downtown Austin eventually comes into view. 

"You bored?"

"Kinda."

"You're a kid. Should be exploring."

"That's what Joel says," Ellie sighs, leaning back in the seat. 

"Why do you call him by his first name?" 

"Cuz I'm adopted."

Your surprised by this. With their dark eyes and strangely similar demeanor you'd never have guessed she wasn't biologically his.

"And he's only been like, a dad to me for three years." 

This surprises you even more. 

"We don't have to talk about it," you offer and Ellie seems to relax at this . She nods, easing back into her seat.

///

When you arrive at the gallery with a teenage girl in tow Frank is impossibly sweet. He comes out into the gallery as you enter, bright smile on his face. 

"And who is this? Are you a fellow artist?"

Ellie shrugs, embarrassed in that classic teenage way that wants attention but feels humiliated when it's given. 

"We're working on it," you tell Frank with a wink. "For today she's just helping me pick up that stuff I brought to the kiln."

"That's just great," Frank gushes. "Did you bring some of that new stuff you showed me too?"

He's talking about that big piece you made in a fit of anger. That canvas currently hidden under a towel. The one you don't like looking at for too long because it hurts your stomach to look at it too long. 

"Nah," you shrug. "Wouldn't really go with the rest of the exhibition."

Frank fixes you with a concerned look. "Your choice."

"This place is amazing."

You both glance over to see Ellie wandering the gallery, her eyes wide as she views the current exhibition.

"I'm gonna go grab my stuff from the kiln," you tell Frank. Your voice rises. "Ellie I'll be right back. You take your time wandering."

Frank watches Ellie slowly going through the gallery, eyes widening when she sees something she likes. When she leans forward to read the bio of one artist, Frank, ever eager to share his love of art with the younger generation saunters over, hands in his dress pants pockets. 

"Jan Cruzant," Frank says. Ellie nods, eyes flitting behind him to where a large abstract sculpture rests. 

"I really like this one too," Ellie says, pointing to it as she and Frank approach it. "Jan whatever her name was so this one?"

"No that's a Stephenie Granatta. She made this of two female lovers she had," Frank says patiently smiling, falling into the old traditional teachers way of his. "She says there's nothing more beautiful than a woman's form in a pleasured state."

He watches as Ellie's cheeks go a deep red before realizing that perhaps this was too much information for a teenager. She mumbles something about sculptures before moving back to look at a more neutral landscape piece.

Thankfully you break the awkward silence by kicking open the door to the studio, your arms full of finished pieces in a heavy cardboard box. Your face is slick with sweat.  

"Frank! Why is it so fucking hot back there?"

"Broken AC," Frank says with a frown. "Been out since Thursday."

"Something is in the air," you grumble. "Mine's out at my place too. But you actually have money! Why is yours still out?"

"Repair guy isn't in until next week."

"So get someone else," you insist, your hair sticking to the back of your sweating neck. 

"Apparently the building operates off a very old system," Frank frowns. "Needs a special kind of repair guy."

"You should ask for a deal on this month's rent," you grouse, hefting the box into your other arm. 

Frank snaps as if remembering something and he goes to his office. Ellie wanders over to you just as Frank re-emerges with a white envelope. 

"I totally forgot, one of your pieces sold this morning," Frank tells you. "After commission that's $500 for you."

Ellie's eyes widen. Five hundred dollars? That's so much money! 

"Well this sounds like a celebration," you say taking the envelope excitedly from Frank. "What's say we head to the cafe for some lunch? My treat for once!"

///

The three of you are halfway through your sandwiches and drinks when Bill comes walking into the cafe. Frank is the first to notice and he freezes up, the conversation about the latest movie he's seen grinding to a halt. 

"Frank? What's wr-" you glance over your shoulder to see where his eyes have gone.  Ellie turns in curiosity and soon all three of you watch Bill with a newspaper under one arm grab a coffee from the barista and head to a small table. 

"Who's that?" Ellie asks curiously. 

"Frank's crush. He loooooves him," you coo from beside Ellie, the two of you giggling gently as Frank's face flushes and he lifts his cup to his mouth, making his rosy cheeks even rosier.

"Shuddap." 

"So if you like him why aren't you talking to him?" Ellie asks after taking another bite of her lunch. 

She doesn't have any real experience with romance, never really liked a boy enough to want to date one. She doesn't get what all the fuss is about. But Frank obviously likes this guy. She can see it in the soft way he looks at the man. 

"Tell me you've at least said hello," you insist, eyes sharp. When Frank gives a non-committal shrug you sigh and stand abruptly. 

"Fine. I see I'll have to play Cupid myself."

"Don't you fucking dare," Frank warns you, but you're already moving from the table winking over your shoulder as you approach Bill. Ellie grins at your back, fascinated at the complicated lives of grown up romance.

Frank feels his throat tightening as you approach Bill, forcing his eyes to his drink. He can't watch. You sail up to Bill's table, smile wide and voice sweet as sugar. 

"Hi, Bill is it?"

The man doesn't look up from what he's reading in the paper. You notice it's a review for a local theatre troupe

"Do I know you?"

Oh shit. Your smile falters only a moment. You point to his coffee mug where "Bill" has been scrawled on the lid in felt. His light eyes dart to it and he nods, satisfied with the explanation. Whew, close one.

"This might sound weird but I was just wondering if you knew anything about air conditioning units?"

You see the back of Bill's neck flush a soft pink immediately at this attention. He’s a quiet man who wanted to come in for a quiet coffee so he could quietly read his paper.  His light eyes dart to your face and then back to his rustling newspaper.  

"A little. Why?"

"It's just my friend was just curious. His unit is broken and he really needs it fixed."

"And who's your friend?"

"Frank. The guy who owns the art gallery around the corner? He's sitting right over there." 

His light eyes travel to where you point and Bill, who had previously looked so irritated at being disturbed suddenly flushes a beet red, so red that he's almost glowing as he forces his eyes back to his coffee. 

You feel delight blooming in your chest because this right here is the only sign you needed. 

Bingo.

"I wouldn't normally ask, it's just he's desperate and-" you want to say more, you want to set things in motion but Frank has gripped you by the upper arm and jerked you back to your table. 

“Excuse us,” he says quickly to Bill before tugging you into your seat and thrusting himself into his own. He leans his head down at you across the table, his voice low. Ellie is trying not to giggle behind her emptied cup. 

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"I figure he's a mechanic, he might know how to fix ancient AC units."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever-"

"You uh, you needed someone to look at your AC unit?"

You watch as Frank raises his head and blinks up at Bill who has come to stand next to your table. Frank swallows thickly and you and Ellie smirk covertly at one another before you both stand.

"We gotta get going, excuse us." You tilt to give Frank a kiss on the cheek goodbye before moving your mouth to his ear. "I've set the pins, you knock 'em down." 

Frank wants to wring your neck. All he wanted was to say hi to Bill. An easy, achievable goal. And now he's standing there looking delicious. 

The two men watch you both leave before an awkward silence descends. It's Frank who breaks it, feeling the need to explain. 

"I'm really sorry about my friend," Frank says laughing awkwardly. "She uh, she can be a lot sometimes."

Bill stares at him as if analyzing him. It makes Frank look away embarrassed. 

"S'fine," Bill finally shrugs. "She just cares about you."

Frank is surprised by this insight. He nods, giving a nervous smile up at Bill who is folding his newspaper under his arm again. 

"Uh, would you like to take a seat?" Frank asks, trying to sound confident. "We can talk about that AC repair if you’re interested."

Frank tries not to blush when Bill gives a soft smile and nods.

"I'm Frank," he says extending a hand as Bill sits across from him at the table. Bill looks at Frank's hand, almost studying it. 

"Bill," the stout man says, taking Frank's hand in his meaty paw and shaking. "Nice to meet you, Frank." 

///

Ellie never enjoyed being around grown-ups. Not before Joel and Kimberly. They welcomed Ellie into their home and gave her a life that felt safe. One where she didn't have to worry about hoarding food under her bed. One where she didn't have to worry about foster parents who threw broken bottles and covered up her bruises when the child protective services arrived. 

One where she had a sister who was her polar opposite and yet she never felt more comfortable around. A sister that sat for her sketches, a sister who helped teach her to swim, a sister who could have been so jealous at the split attention from her parents but never was. 

And now, Ellie finds, you have an air about you that so much like Sarah. Auden how you look or how you act, but just in who you are. A cheery sort of lightness that amuses as well as cuts through the bullshit of everyday life. Like a child wearing an adults body for fun.  

"You think you could be my teacher?" Ellie asks you as your old car sputters home to rancher street. "Joel would pay you. He said he wanted me to join a class."

You know this is a big ask for the girl. You've not known Ellie long but you can tell she's a girl that doesn't ask for much. Doesn't lay her heart on the line like this very often. 

"I charge thirty an hour for private lessons," you tell her. 

"Okay."

You smile at her eagerness. You'll have to check with Joel of course but this doesn't seem too awful an idea. A bit of extra money for you, some time spent doing art for Ellie.

"Alright then. It's a deal on my end but I gotta talk to your D- to Joel."

Ellie smiles and the sight of it makes you grin right back. 

///

Joel watches you coming up the steps with Ellie, the two of you chatting companiably. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since this morning. The effortless way you are with his daughter despite barely knowing her. 

He watches the swing of your hips and the curve of your body as you approach.

"Brought her back in one piece and even fed her," you tell him with a smile. "Although with all the casseroles this morning maybe I shouldn't have."

Joel laughs, looking to your face. He doesn't know why but you wearing sunglasses makes him feel... Something. It's mysterious having your eyes hidden from him. He never knows exactly what you're thinking. 

Ellie gives you a farewell wave before disappearing inside to use the bathroom. You turn your eyes on Joel deciding now is as good a time as any. 

"Was wondering if you had a sec?"

"Sure," Joel says, face a little uncertain. He wonders if he should invite you inside to his messy house. "You wanna come in for a drink?"

"Sure."

You follow in after him, glancing around at all the cardboard boxes. Many are half unpacked, furniture still askew in the new place. Some things are leaning up against walls and you notice the take out boxes with a smile. 

The furniture catches your eye and while Joel goes to the fridge to grab you two beers you take a chance to observe some pieces up close. 

"I like this," you tell him as you drag your hand over the coffee table. "Looks hand carved."

"It is," Joel says nodding, looking like he's going to say something else but doesn't. "Beer okay?"

"Sure."

You take the chilled bottle from him, taking a small swig and holding in a grimace. It's a bad brand, too hoppy, but you don't say anything. Wouldn't do well to insult a potential lead. 

Joel sees you've taken your sunglasses off and now he takes a moment to really look at you, under the guise of drinking. 

Pretty. Very pretty. 

Guilt immediately washes over him at the realization. He shouldn’t be thinking you’re pretty.

Ellie returns from the bathroom wiping her damp hands

"Can I have one?" She grins when she sees you and Joel holding beer bottles.

"There's a coke in there with your name on it," Joel tosses back. 

You hold in a smile at the banter. Joel is annoying for sure, but he's sweet with Ellie.  

"Did you ask yet?" Ellie says coming up to you, coke in hand.

"Not yet."

"Alright now I'm a bit concerned," Joel observes wryly. "This sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a scheme." 

"No scheme," you promise crossing your fingers theatrically. "Just something that Ellie and I were talking about in the car. She wanted to see if you’d go for it and I’m here to answer any questions you might have."

"Okay," Joel says slowly, the suspicion clear on his tanned face. The three of you still standing in the kitchen like some Western shoot-out. Joel crosses his broad arms over his chest as if preparing for the worst. 

"Ellie wants to know if I can teach her art," you explain. "Private lessons in my studio."

"Really?" Joel looks stunned by this. His dark eyes go to his daughter. Ellie nods, smiling brightly.

"You said you wanted me to join a class."

"That I did," Joel nods, scratching absently at his facial hair. He looks concerned. "I'm starting work next week so I won't be around during the day."

"I know."

"That means you're responsible for getting yourself there on time."

"I know."

"That means eating breakfast before and finishing chores when you get back."

"Joel, I know."

Joel's mouth breaks into a grin and for a moment you can't look away from the little dimple in his right cheek. He turns his warm gaze on you. 

"How much do you charge?"

"Thirty an hour," you reply, forcing yourself to take another swig of the beer. "I usually suggest at least once a week with a three hour block."

"Seems fair," Joel nods. "I've seen your set up. Seems like you got a lot in there."

"You been peeking in my windows?"

Ellie smirks as Joel begins to sputter a response. Joel feels the tips of his ears go pink as you laugh. 

"I'm just teasing," you say, eyes merry. "I know you can see everything from outside. I like the natural light from the big windows so I never close the blinds. My own fault if people are curious." 

Joel visibly relaxes. For a moment he was terrified you thought he was a creep. He doesn't want you to think that. For some pathetic reason thinks he wants your approval. He finds he really wants you to like him.

"Well I think you two have a lot of casserole to get through and this beer is terrible," you say handing the mostly full bottle back to a smiling Joel. 

"So, next Wednesday at my place work? Twelve until three?"

Ellie looks at Joel who nods. She grins happily up at you. 

"Yep!"

"I take cash or cash," you tell him. "And don't worry about supplies just yet. Let's see what you like first before you go buying everything in the art shop."

"Great," Joel says, meaning it. He can't remember when last Ellie looked this excited. 

"Alright, see ya then,” you say cheerfully giving a two-fingered salute. Joel and Ellie watch you leave, seeing your figure slant across the lawn through the window. 

Ellie can’t help but notice that the way Joel is looking at you is awfully similar to the way Frank was looking at Bill. 

[somebluemelodies]

almost gave up on writing this bc all my progress got deleted over a couple weeks ago but i am nothing if not determined (read: a stubborn shit) so i finally came back to rewrite cross-posted to ao3 here :>

As a kid, Roier was obsessed with the sea. He loved everything about it. Including the merfolk.

Every book about mer and their lore he could get a hold of, he read. They fascinated him to no end.

It's why he's never trusted the Federation. Why he never told his abuelo about his fascination. Roier knows what they do to the mer they capture.

His abuelo is a long-time Federation officer, and he remembers overhearing many a work-related discussion at night when he was younger, or reading his classified documents when he wasn't home.

The Federation "studies" mer, asking people that if they ever see a mer, to report the sighting to an officer. And by that, they experiment. All under the guise they preach to the public of "studying" them.

(Deepsea mer get it the worst. Labelled as aggressive, human-killing monsters, the Federation has made everyone fearful of them. Roier pushes everything he's ever read about a captured deepsea mer to the far back of his mind.)

(Surely they can't be that bad, can they?)

When Roier was old enough, he took off to live a life on the sea. A pirate, if you will, because that's what the Federation calls everyone smart enough to not conform to their overbearing ways. And he's been thoroughly enjoying his life ever since.

As it stands currently, he and the rest of the crew - friends, really - have been docked for a few days now for reparation and selling purposes. He tries to ignore the fact there's a plethora of Federation officers wandering the town, with a base of operations just outside of it, and instead spends much of his time wandering up and down the beach.

It's what he's doing this late afternoon. About to walk past a cave, a slight glint in his peripherals has him glancing into the mouth of the cave and freezing in his tracks.

Roier finds himself staring at a mer, who appears to be tangled in a net. Their tail almost looks black, but under the light of the sunset, he realizes the scales are actually the deepest emerald green he's ever seen. Looking around to make sure no one - no officer - is watching him, he slips inside.

His boots in the shallow water catch the attention of the mer, whose head snaps up at the sound. Piercing blue eyes almost seem to glow in the dim light, glaring daggers at him, and Roier freezes, holding his hands up. "I just want to help! I'm not here to hurt you or something. Can I help you?"

(Can the merman even understand him?)

The silent question is answered by the snarl on the mer's face gradually dropping, followed by a hesitant nod. His eyes continue to follow Roier closely, though, who tries to mask his surprise at the fact he's just been comprehended by a mer.

Kneeling next to the mer, he's able to make out more detail. Most notably, a bunch of scars, be it a long, thin one stretching across the bridge of his nose or the sheer amount littering his arms.

(It looks like there are more on his torso, but his arm is covering the lower half. Alarmingly, Roier swears he sees red underneath, too.)

(One step at a time.)

Roier pulls out his dagger, and starts the process of carefully cutting the merman free from the net. While doing so, he notices one signature detail of the net.

It's white.

"Did the Federation try to capture you?" he asks, sparing a brief glance up at the merman's handsome face. "And you managed to escape?"

(Focus. Focus.)

The mer nods. Roier sighs. "Fucking hate those guys, man."

He perks up a bit, as if to say "you too?" and the pirate offers a small smile in turn. But it fades after a moment. "I know what they do to you guys. It's not fair."

Silence befalls them, save for the slicing of his dagger against the net. It takes a bit, but he's finally able to pull the netting off of the mer and toss it off to the side.

The mer looks some semblance of thankful, although it turns to a grimace when he goes to move his arm that's been wrapped around his stomach this whole time, and it resumes its original place.

Roier frowns. "You're hurt. Let me see."

He doesn't move his arm, though, and it takes Roier gently prying it away so he can inspect the damage. Doing so reveals some type of stab wound, but from what, he isn't quite sure. It's not life-threatening, that much he also knows, but it's certainly bad enough to warrant concern.

(And he's very concerned.)

But he quickly realizes yet another problem. Said problem being that he has no medical supplies on him. Granted, he could go back to the ship for some, but that means either running into another member of the crew or worse... someone else stumbling upon this mer.

(Is it worth the risk?)

"Okay, bad news," he speaks up again. "I don't have any supplies to help you on me, but I might be able to--"

Roier is cut off by watching the mer reach for a satchel he didn't even realize the latter had. "Oh, shit-- Do you have your own supplies?"

The merman nods, but before he can take out any of the supplies on his own, the pirate is reaching out to take the satchel. "I can help you again," he offers. "It'll be a lot easier than trying to fix yourself, you know?"

He seems surprised by the offer, but holds out the satchel after a few moments, watching him with a look Roier can't quite decipher.

(Apprehension? Fondness? Incredulousness?)

(All he knows is those bright eyes are a lot less scary than they've been made out to be.)

The patching-up process takes a little longer than the untangling, and Roier has to light up the lantern he brought with him now that the sun has set, but he finally finds himself wrapping the mer's torso, sitting back slightly on his knees to inspect his work. "I think that should do it. Just... be careful, okay?"

Another nod, and Roier takes another few moments to study him. Between the glowing eyes and the scars, the slight rips in some of his fins, thinking about his initial attitude...

"Are you a deepsea mer?" he asks after a beat.

The mer freezes, watching him closely and seeming to scan him for any signs of hostility. Roier only looks back at him, though, making no subtle movements, and he finally nods slowly.

Roier hums. "I figured. But for all the Federation talk about you guys being ugly monsters... you look like the opposite." The merman looks stunned. "You're... very pretty, you know? Handsome."

(Beautiful, even.)

It's his turn to be surprised when the mer smiles for the first time. A relatively small smile, but one nevertheless, and it's one that makes something warm start to bloom in his chest, everything feeling just a little fuzzy.

The mer then picks up his satchel again, rummaging through it until he pulls something out. He grabs one of Roier's hands, holding it up and gently placing something smooth in his palm before closing his fingers around it.

(Roier mourns the loss of the brief contact, and then immediately mentally kicks himself in the ass for the fact.)

("Please be careful, okay?" Another nod.)

With the high tide coming into the cave, the merman is able to start making his way out with relative ease, sparing a brief glance back to Roier and waving before disappearing under the water with a glint of emerald under the moonlight.

For several moments, he stands there in silence, processing. And then, he looks down at his hand, opening it.

A sizeable piece of dark green sea glass rests in his palm, and he can't help the smile that etches its way onto his face.

The pirate carefully pockets it, and, on his way back to the ship, can only hope to whatever god is listening that this isn't the end, but only something just beginning.

[kitasgloves]

"Follow You"

event masterlist

— ♬ "So you can drag me through hell. If it meant I could hold your hand"

— ♬ Tendou x Reader, timeskip, SFW, gen reader, established relationship, brief mentions of stalking, no beta

The afternoon was cloudy with the pavement still freshly soaked from rainfall. Tendou Satori knew he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be walking down this path, he shouldn't be wasting his time like this, and most of all he shouldn't be following you. Well, he was technically stalking you but he doesn't want to be honest with himself. In his defense, this only happened today and he doesn't intend any harm. He could explain that he's only keeping an eye on you, making sure you're safe. He could argue that he has the right to do this because you were his. But his eyes linger on you for more than that reason alone.

His head was haunting him and his heart felt like a ghost. He needs to feel something 'cause he's still so far from home. Tendou hopes you'll cross your heart and hope to die, promise him you'll never leave his side. When you meet each other for lunch the following day, Tendou doesn't mention how he followed you home yesterday. He didn't intend on repeating it so he thinks it's unnecessary to bring it up.

"And then she said..."

You were talking miles per minute and Tendou just listened to you with a loving look in his eye. He could listen to you blabber about the most absurdest things and he'll be beyond contented. Tendou adored everything you did beyond what a normal person would consider. You could consider him obsessed and he won't shy away from that fact. Tendou knows the things that made you smile down to all of the things that make you tick. He knows what makes you laugh and what makes you crinkle your nose in disgust. He knows the flavors you hate and the food you love. He even knows the toothpaste you use. He knows everything that you're willing to put out there.

Tendou found it wild to imagine that he managed to find someone who loves him for how he is, it would be foolish to let you slip away. Evers since he asked you to go to prom with him back in high school, you stuck with him. You stayed with him even after college. You stayed with him despite his flaws. You took him into your arms with no room for hesitation, even if people told you how weird he was, and even if the world showed you how he's not good for you. Show him what he can't see when the spark in your eyes is gone. You got him on his knees he's your one-man cult. Tendou crosses his heart and hopes to die, promise you that he'll never leave your side. 

The redhead has always made it his mission to express his love for you in various ways. Making you chocolates, lending you his hoodie, dancing with you in the kitchen, and singing you to sleep. Tendou made sure to reassure you that there was nobody else that made his heart beat so hard that it would break out of his ribcage. He looks at you with a tender stare and a gleam in his eye, 'cause he's telling you you're all he needs. He promises you you're all he sees. He'll never leave.

"Are you sniffing my shirt?"

You enter the room with an amused smirk. Tendou pauses brings your shirt down from his nose and cracks a smile at you through the doorway.

"And what if I am? What are you gonna do?"

"I dunno, punish you?"

"Don't you think I'm already punished enough with you snoring like an elephant?"

"Hey! I don't snore!"

You pout as you throw a pillow at him that you grabbed from the bed. Tendou cackles and discards your shirt on the floor to sprint at you at full speed, you squealed as he scooped you in his arms and attacked you with pecks and kisses. You burst into a fit of giggles even if he went in to bite your right cheek. The two of you decided to spend the afternoon in bed watching a movie and cuddling under the sheets. The film was one of those typical zombie apocalypse ones.

"Satori, would you love me even if I get turned into a zombie?"

"Yeah, I'll even let you bite me"

"Well, that's stupid"

"Huh? Do you want me to keep you around my house and feed you dead humans until I die?"

"Babe, what the hell?"

You laugh at him and he joins. Tendou thinks back at the conversation at the end of the movie, everything he said was serious but he had a feeling you knew that already. He wasn't even trying to hide how he adores you uncontrollably. And he likes it when you say nothing about it and just let him do his thing. Come and sink to him and let him breathe you in. He'll be your gravity, you'll be his oxygen. So dig two graves 'cause when you die, he swears he'll be leaving by your side.

"Happy anniversary, Satori!"

Tendou gasps when you hand him homemade chocolates that you managed to hide from him. He grins from ear to ear and goes to kiss you on the lips before pulling you into a bone-crushing embrace. He opens the box and sniffs the saccharine scent of the chocolates, he pops one in his mouth and all the flavors melt on his palate.

"Baby, this is delicious! Dare I say better than mine"

"Oh my god, really?"

"Uh-huh. Dang, I better watch out or my business is gonna die because of these chocolates"

He jests and you slap his arm with a chuckle. Tendou fetches his anniversary gift for you and hands it to you wrapped in red like his hair with a white bow. You tear off the wrapper to see an expensive black jewelry box and your breath hitches. Tendou bites his lip, a smile already erupting on his face as he watches you eagerly open the box.

"Satori, you didn't..."

"Oh yes I did, my darling"

"This...oh my god, thank you!"

You pounce at him and he laughs. You gave him a few aggressive kisses on his face before staring back at the gift he gave you. It was the necklace you've always wanted since you graduated from college, you remember how you would sigh and complain to Tendou about how your life would be better if you got that necklace. You were beyond astonished that your boyfriend went out of his way to give it to you. Tears well up in your eyes.

"Now now, no need to cry, my dear! Let me help you put the necklace on!"

Tendou carefully takes the necklace and drapes it around your neck, he secures it and then kisses your left temple. You rushed to the mirror to see the necklace glimmer around your neck and swoon at your boyfriend giving you one of his loving looks. You trudge over to him and wrap your arms around his neck as he grabs your waist.

"Thank you, darling"

"Anything for you, [Name]"

You lean towards him to pull him into a quick but passionate kiss. Tendou couldn't possibly be happier. You remain to hold onto him as he sighs softly under your gaze.

"I can't believe I managed to bag someone like you, Satori"

"I should be saying that"

"You'll do anything for me, huh?"

"You can drag me through hell if it meant I can hold your hand"

Tendou says. He will follow you 'cause he's under your spell, and you can throw him to the flames. He will follow you follow you. And from that familiar knowing look in your eye, Tendou knows that you know he will definitely, inevitably follow you.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[teejaystumbles]

Well, since the idea of it is what got me to go watch Hannibal...Do tell about Unsustainable (Dreamling Hannibal AU)!!! :D

(I think you probably know all there is to know already 😅 because sadly I didn't work on it one bit since its inception... I know, I'm sorry. The Hannibal mood is a hard one to achieve and stay in for long enough. But I still love it and hope I'll write more for it someday. I think it can only profit from me gaining more writing experience in the meantime!)

Unsustainable is a Dreamling AU with the premise that Dream comes out of the fishbowl broken, and with a grudge. Here's a good summary I wrote a long while back:

Hob doesn’t know Dream personally. He got his immortality from Death, he has a standing appointment with her, not Dream. Dream has only watched those meetings but always declined his sister’s invitation to join them and get to know Hob. He has started to watch him and his dreams more closely though after 1689, has sent him appropriate nightmares after 1789, has in fact indulged more and more in watching him. So much, that he is focused on Hob alone as a possible ally after his escape. His imprisonment has made Dream cruel, almost feral, but his exemplary control allows him to hide that dark side rising inside him. He approaches Hob and finds it not hard at all to convince him to help him get revenge after a few meetings. Dream becomes more and more obsessed with Hob, he wants him to be the mongoose under the house when the snakes slither by. He also wants him in every other conceivable way. Hob is not averse, not at all, he’s head over heels for this beautiful brother of his stranger, he has finally found someone who knows him, needs him, can be there forever if he doesn’t chase him away, so he’s careful and kind. He soon realises that Dream does not want him to be kind, though, does in fact seem to revel in it when Hob loses his temper. The things Dream asks him to do are nothing to an ex-soldier and he believes he is giving bad people their just desserts. The weird behaviour of some of them, as if they are dreaming, makes him wonder, though.

It features a lot of dark themes - revenge; murder and violence; Hob being into near-death experiences; Morpheus praising the Corinthian instead of atomising him; mind fuckery and gaslighting-

it's a heavy one and I honestly don't know if I can ever pull it off, it's a bit different from the things I usually write. But I might just be in the mood to explore it again one day :3 until then, have a bit of what I've already written (I've forgotten if I've already shared it, sorry):

The King of Dreams! What a wonder! Hob loves this. "Pleasure to meet you, Morpheus. Your majesty. What do you prefer? But I warn you, I am not a fan of monarchy and a peasant at heart. So forgive me if I, ah, behave like a boor." He winks cheekily at the other and sees his nostrils flare in irritation. He does not seem angry, though. He looks... curious. "Morpheus is fine. I will not stand on ceremony with one I...would like to call... friend. Hob Gadling." He leans back in his chair and tilts his head back a fraction, looking at Hob down his perfect long nose. He gives a miniscule smirk and adds: “I also believe you to be perfectly capable of quite a number of things. Including courtly manners. Do not sell yourself short… Sir Robert Gadlen.” Hob sucks in a breath and twitches his fingers restlessly. He can barely refrain from jiggling his leg, so thrilled is he. This man, this…being, knows him! Knows him like Death knows him! He grins and leans back to hide his twitching fingers under the table and grip his trouser leg instead. “So tell me, brother of Death. Why did you decide to meet me? I believe she has invited you to join us a number of times. You never came. Why now?” The red pinpricks of light in the Dreamking’s eyes flicker. His smile grows for a moment before his face becomes deadly serious. “My sister has praised you, Hob Gadling. You are. A good friend to her. She believes you can be a good friend to me as well.” He leans forward and puts his hands on the table between them, palms up like an offering, an invitation, a question. “I am in need. Of a friend. Someone who will help me. Retrieve what was stolen from me.” Morpheus’ blue eyes are boring holes into Hob’s and Hob shivers and blinks. He licks his lips again and then, cautiously, reaches out for one of the bone white hands on the table. The moment he comes into touching distance Morpheus pulls his hands back, eyes wide. He flicks his gaze down and away and then up again to meet Hob’s once more and Hob feels like he has just stuck his hand into the cage of a tiger. Morpheus’ eyes burn with a fiery red light. He swallows and Hob tracks the movement of his Adam's apple, feeling his own throat go dry. He clears it awkwardly and puts his hand palm down on the table. Clearly touching doesn’t seem to be a good idea just yet. “If you are in trouble, I am happy to help”, he says, smiling gently at the other who still looks like a spooked animal ready to attack. At Hob’s quiet words the man blinks and, in a second, regains his composure, his face giving nothing of the obvious discomfort he just felt away. Hob breathes an inconspicuous sigh of relief, feeling like he just avoided getting his throat ripped out by a feral beast.“I would. Very much appreciate that.” Death’s brother says in his deep rumble of a voice and Hob signals the waiter for another pint. “Then let’s talk.”

[eva-knits12]

Can we behave like adults, and not middle schoolers?

Because of some recent controversy involving Chris Evans, can we please start behaving more like adults, and not like middle schoolers? Since a lot of people are angry about the last few days, and today, guess what? You're feelings are valid. If you feel upset and sad, guess what? You're feelings are valid. If you feel calm, and know that this is going to blow over in a day or so, guess what? Your feelings are valid. If you think that Chris Evans is a horrible person, guess what? Your feelings are valid. If you think that the trash princess is the greatest thing since sliced bread? Your feelings are valid.

Guess what? We are all adults. We are people. We are people who have different feelings and we are people with different opinions.

If someone has a different opinion than you, fine. That person's opinion is valid. If you think someone is wrong, don't get angry at them, when a simple I disagree will suffice. You are all angry and shocked again over a few rings that are making this whole thing laughable. You had to see this coming again. You are giving this attention, because this is what the trash princess wants. This is the last time I'm going to say this, but the less attention you give this entire PR stunt, the better, and guess what? The sooner it ends.

I've said what I needed to say, so I'm going to stop saying anything about this right now. I've expressed my opinion, and my opinion is just as valid as anyone else's, but guess what? I'm adult enough to express my opinion and move on, I don't try to shut the other person down, I don't get angry and I don't force my opinion down someone else's throat. Instead, I'm grown up enough to let them express their opinion, and if I disagree with that person, then a simple I disagree suffices. There's no need to act like a bunch of middle schoolers because both teams seem to be the in-clique to be in right now.

There's other things we can talk about. Talk about obsessed. I think both Team PR and Team Real are too obsessed about every little thing Chris Evans does. I don't even pay too much attention to the tabloids, in fact, I don't read them. But guess what? If I don't want to read an article, then I don't read it. If tabloids are even claiming that this is PR stunt is BS, that's saying something!

Team PR, you're feelings and your opinions are valid. Team Real, who I think are delusional, their opinions and feelings are also valid. Can we all stop pretending to be in middle school cliques? Guess what? If you don't want to respond to a person, then don't respond to them.

Your pissed because Chris did the same thing on a TV show that nobody watches? Boy, I don't even feel sorry for anyone right now.

I know that this is PR. I don't watch The View, so his appearance on it was no skin off my nose. Guess what I did? I went to the fancy mall in my area, Somerset Collection, had lunch with my mom and aunt, then we went and picked up my mom's package. We went shopping after, and didn't buy anything. We were looking for ideas for Christmas presents. In other words, I got out and was living life.

Now, I'm watching Cinderella in my PJ's and knitting a keyhole scarf. Yes, I'm a Disney adult. I have other interests, too. I'm complicated.

I'm 44 years old. To quote Danny Glover, I'm too old for this shit.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Be excellent to each other.

[anaisbebe]

Tartarus Infernus: Character Introduction

Welcome to the third part of Red Veil of Order character introductions! The first part is here, and the second is here.

CW: Mental struggles mention

Basic Information: Tartarus is a 224-year-old demon. He Mexican. He uses he/him pronouns and identifies as gay.

Physical Description: Tartarus is 5'4. He has yellow circular eyes for the majority of the book, he has (bleached) blonde hair. He has three bald spots due to his stress response (ripping his hair out). His nose is button shaped. He is chubby and has bright red skin. He has a long, furry tail and ram horns. His pupils are horizontal. Tartarus is slightly wrinkled and looks to be in his early 40s. He has a round face and a cleft chin.

Personality Traits: Tartarus Infernus is a Entertainer, also known as a ESFP-T. He is bold, enthusiastic, and observant. He prefers heart over head. Tartarus is passionate in what he believes in, and considers himself an activist. His flaws are that he is sensitive, conflict-averse, and completely crumbles under stress. He is extremely easy to manipulate.

Background: Tartarus knows almost nothing about his background. He remembers waking up in year 1800 and being shipped off to foster care.

Motivations and Goals: All throughout the three acts, Tartarus has one main goal- to be with Chaos. He follows this to wherever it takes him, even when it ends up horrifically gruesome. In the first half of Act One, he is shown to try to diplomatically convert Beatrice to his ideals, whereas Chaos sends her away to Bootcamp as a punishment.

Relationships: He struggles with relationships. Although he is technically Beatrice's father, she does not consider him as such. He goes through constant relationship-cycling with Chaos. Beatrice doesn't trust him due to his constant attempts to "convert" her. He has a quite loving relationship with Erebos, although this goes down the drain in Act Two. His unstable relationship with his best friend, Sven, starts in Act Two.

Skills and Abilities: Tartarus is not powerful. He is a normal demon. He is skilled at public speeches and writing nonfiction, like laws.

Character Arc: His character arc is backwards. Instead of improving throughout the story, he becomes worse and worse. He struggles with severe mental problems with no known cause. Due to his amnesia, he cannot remember any sort of trauma that could've influenced this.

Internal Conflicts: Internally, he struggles with mental health. He suffers from hallucinations, delusions, and more. He cannot tell the difference between his nightmares, daydreams, and reality. He is often seen talking to people who are not there. He gets angry over situations that never happened.

External Conflicts: Tartarus's external conflicts are Erebos and Chaos. After finding out about their affair, he grows very angry despite his own affair. Erebos's psychological conditioning does not help his case. Erebos is known to engage in his hallucinations and confused state, ensuring him they are real. His conflicts about Chaos are: Chaos is creeped out by his obsession with him.

Tag list: @honeybewrites <33

Fun Facts: Tartarus and I share the same personality type. He was originally created to be a self-insert, but I twisted his character, so he is definitely, definitely, not.

Tartarus is my Absolute Favorite. I Love Him. :-)

Look At His Cute Face I'm Dying.

[cer-rata]

Can we talk about Catwoman, Bruce Wayne and maybe a little about the concept of crime?

Just gonna get it out of the way: Yes Gotham war is bad for many clear, obvious reasons. It reads like like crack fic, though I personally believe that's more on editorial than Zdarsky, as this is perhaps one of the most clearly top-down, artificial, corporate plots since Civil War II.

But I'm not going to focus on the genuinely hilarious ideas here, and instead talk about the original sin: Selina's big idea.

It immediately falls apart under any basic scrutiny: How is she convincing all of these wildly different people to become cat burglars? That's not an easy skill set to teach, especially at this scale. If the whole issue is as simple as a lack of work skills, why didn't she teach them anything else? Literally anything? If she has this level of reach and status to be able to convince 75%(!!!) of the underworld to throw in with her why would she use it this way?

On a level Catwoman has always had her nose closer to the ground that Batman could ever. She lives in the gray areas of Gotham. She gets, on a personal level, the ways that society fails the little people and she's been pretty consistent about going to the paint to help people in bad situations. So her wanting to really support people and get them a better shake is very in line with her character.

But she's never been dumb or blindly idealistic and certainly not naive. In fact if anyone should be able instantly suss out the logical problems with this concept, it would be the woman who probably understands Gotham's underbelly better than anyone else. She understands how the business works and would know that you can't support an entire criminal economy on stealing from the homes of the wealthy. Selina has been so successful because she's the BEST at what she does, and because her style is uncommon enough that most people aren't expecting to get hit by her. Suddenly there are what, thousands of cat burglars just running around every night? Then the rich just increase their security, and then what? The idea that it worked at all is such an assault on the suspension of disbelief. And it implies a fundamental misunderstanding of crime and what Bruce/Batman is even trying to do.

See there's an implicit suggestion here that Selina is trying to take care of people while Bruce only cares about penalizing offenders, and that's just...a really bad fanon take honestly. It stems partially from the problem of using "criminal" to describe a class of people. The idea that some people are just criminals to be stopped because all they can understand is crime. That's not a helpful or realistic way to look at crime. I think we understand that people turn to crime for many diverse reasons. We flatten their narratives because there's no time to go into the complex motivations of each Two-Face grunt, but in better written works it's implied to be there regardless.

On numerous occasions, it has been made very clear that Bruceman understands this. How could he not? He's one of the most intelligent creatures on the planet, and his autistic special interest is criminology. Like, he knows, he obviously knows, especially at this point in his career. A lot of damage has been done by the idea that Bruce Wayne and Batman are fundamentally separate people. there's plenty of drama in the discussion of being torn between a normal life and the obsession, but the obsession is always there, mask or not. Batman isn't supposed to be some bizarre divergent personality, and no I am not going to talk about Zur and you can't make me! He has historically used his money and influence to support less fortunate Gothamites since always. He's not some out of touch uber-wealthy person who thinks that beating poor people is the only answer. He's been written like that before by people who wish he was Rorschach instead, but that is not the overarching norm of his character. It's a sin comparable with forgetting that Clark Kent is an actual investigative reporter. Bruce Wayne works to counter the structural inequality that leads to common crime, and Batman steps in to protect people from violence, and uncommon, existentially different criminals. Penguin, Black Mask, Falcone--sure Batman will stop a mugging, but he really exists to punish the people who are benefiting off of the suffering of others. Even then, he'd still prefer if they redeemed themselves and moved on.

This is from the 2004 The Batman cartoon tie-in, but I think it illustrates the point really well.

Like I've said before in other posts, violence is a tool in his belt, but he knows it's not the solution. Batman dissuades, Bruce Wayne offers support and options. Unfortunately, popular discussion on Bruceman has lost a lot of this plot, and focuses on the eye catching brutality that the movies and popular dark adaptations have championed. So what we get is this weird meta commentary that is supposed to make Batman look like a violent totalitarian punching down on people and missing the point when in reality, he gets the point! He super gets the point! The reason he doesn't kill is that he believes everyone deserves to try to be better, that concept makes no sense with a Batman who doesn't see criminals as people! Selina doesn't even have a point! She's supposed to represent a more socially conscious, compassionate, realistic perspective, but she's just not correct! It's an insane nothing-burger even before he completely loses his mind because of the plot. There are legitimate ideological issues to be pulled out between he and Selina. If she had become a crime boss like Jason tried to (and once did herself if I remember correctly) and used that to suppress the worse actors in a way he couldn't, you could really have them reckon with what they're willing to do to keep people safe and where the line actually is. Because they're all criminals in the end, what matters is where they draw the line. Batman works with plenty of dangerous and formally dangerous criminals actually, Harley and Ghost-Maker and Jason and Damian and--he's not some stupid inflexible hardliner cop. Stories where Batman is zealous about crime as like an amorphous concept are insane because they suggest that he doesn't recognize that his extrajudicial nature already complicates matters. That's another reason he doesn't kill by the way! He doesn't think he's the law! He's just a guy! Why should he get to decide the value of someone's life? But even then, the idea that the whole family would fall into civil war over Bruce and Selina having an ideological tiff is such an affront to all of them as individual characters. None of them are stupid enough to deal with things this way. It's not an exploration of character flaws if you're just making them stupid.

There's a problem about writers coming onto Batbooks and revealing that they have done no research into why people commit crimes and it creates narratives where Batman also doesn't understand the point, when he has and should!

Tldr,

Writers, stop pretending that Batman doesn't understand the social/systemic aspect of crime, and also maybe look into how it actually works yeah?

[ryuichirou]

Miscellaneous Pomefiore-related asks

You have been in Pomefiore mood lately~ Can’t really blame you lol, I’m pretty much constantly in Pomefiore mood.

So if you sent us anything about Epel, Vil or Rook over the past couple of weeks, you’re very likely to find a reply in this post. I hope I haven’t missed anyone.

Anonymous asked:

I love how you ship Epel with men who would hunt him for sport. Rook and Floyd should have a competition to see who gets him first…

I can’t help it, Anon! Epel is just too darn huntable lol it’s his fault for looking like a widdle wabbit.

Rook and Floyd would indeed have a wonderful competition! Although I get the feeling that Floyd would get bored first lol

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Rook being a third wheel to everyone's ship and he finds it fun. Like seeing between Neige and Vil, which Neige is happy while Vil is a bit annoyed or the fact that he is between Leona and Ruggie that made them creep out to the hunter. Even him between Vil and Ortho.

This 100% sounds like something Rook would do. He hunts for love in all forms lol, both finds beauty in it and wants to participate... You never know with him, is he acting like a naturalist in a forest that watches animals perform courtship or is he just horny and wants to stick his nose into other people’s business. Well now I’m just describing a regular Rook Hunt lol

Whenever Vil goes, Rook would go with him and be an active part of his relationship, I feel like this isn’t even optional. Even if he isn’t a “boyfriend” boyfriend, he would always be there, sometimes in the bushes, sometimes in their bed lol

And if Vil tolerates it because he has a soft spot for Rook (any of his partners would tolerate him too, well, other than Floyd), I feel like Leona and Ruggie would freak the fuck out whenever Rook is around. Ah, wild animals~

Anonymous asked:

So all the dorms canonically wear make up, right? If Epel was in Savanaclaw like he wanted to be, do you think they'd have any easier time getting him to accept wearing makeup or do you think it would be harder?

I might be imagining things but I feel like someone has said at some point that some of the dorms use magic to apply makeup instead, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the Savanaclaw guys did this?? But even if they don’t, their makeup is SO subtle it barely exists. I think Epel would have no problem putting some paint under his eyes – it’s manly paint! For wild men! Leona-senpai does it too, so it’s cool! And manly!!

It’s nothing like using all of the products that Vil makes him use, I think.

Anonymous asked:

after this event I'm half tempted to ship Rook an Deuce together

Rook:"your stupid i love that in a man"

I COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT THEY HAD A MOMENT OMG YES YOU’RE RIGHT LOL

Deuce is so adorable, I like when cunning and dangerous men gravitate towards his earnest and not very smart self. Rook was definitely charmed lol

Anonymous asked:

GloMas fuck fest anon coming back yet again with another dynamic to offer you, imagine Rook finding out about Azul being able to grab Malleus horns and dominant him? He's already obsessed with trying to hunt him.. it wouldn't hurt to add Malleus onto his list, right?

Oh Rook is obsessed with anything that is animalistic and weird, so he would get so excited about this whole thing. We’ve seen Rook trying to kind of almost flirt with Malleus in his own creepy Rook way at least once…

He’s probably going to talk to Azul first though. To ask uncomfortable question about how exactly it went, what it was like, how Azul’s octopus instincts acted out during sex, is Malleus okay with someone pulling on his horns, does his tail show up, is it sensitive. Azul would freak the fuck out and tell Rook nothing lol

So Rook would have to try to hunt Malleus down himself once again~ But he’s better be careful about it…

And these two replies are related to this post about Epel and Neige making out lol

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I'm sorry but the pure idea of Epel seducing Neige to make Vil feel better about something negative a Neige-fan said about him is an idea that lives in my mind rent free. Even better if during a photoshoot, Vil gets a text from his Pomfiore Trio Group chat and when he opens it it's a video of Neige getting breathless making out with Epel before it cuts to a video of Rook fucking Neige's brains out in some grass, face and uniform shown and everything, all this so he has evidence of something to bring drama to Neige, or could be yandere for him

Damn what a crazy situation that would be lol yeah, you could take this thing very far and to a very dark direction! I like the idea of Epel seducing Neige.

But to be honest, this particular scenario is not really our cup of tea because of the dynamic and positioning (Neige being the one to get his brains fucked out lol), and still think that Vil would rather be freaked out if his boys did something like this. The latter isn’t a reason for them to stop of course.

Anonymous asked:

XxNeige_is_Vil's_Biggest_Fan53Xx: ffs, guys.they were making out against Vil's Pic. clearly it's all an attempt to make Vil jealous!

WhiteAppleLover69: plz. U VilNeige shippers are pathetic. Just accept that Neige actually has taste.

VilsFutureWife184; 1rst of all, the ship name 4 Neige and Vil is PoisonPrince. 2ndly, any1 who can't tell that this is just a PR stunt is the truly delusion 1. Like, when has Neige ever made any indication that he's even in2 men?

VilAnti: uh oh the self shippers have entered the chat

VilsFutureWife184: At least i don't project the actions of the characters an actor has played onto them as an excuse 4 petty hate.

VilAnti: vil doesn't love u he can't love u

_XXJUICETHEAPPLEXX_: WHY R U ALL DOGPILING ON VIL?! CLEARLY THE FLOOZY IS TRYING TO USE NEIGE 4 HIS FAME!!!

ApplesRn'tPurple: If he was using some1, wouldn't he go 4 Vil instead?

PoisonPrinceTruther: He probably got shot down bcuz Vil is obvi in luv with Neige and decided to take Neige ad range!

_XXJUICETHEAPPLEXX_: NOW URE ACCUSING NEIGE? WUT IS WRONG WITH U PPL!!!???

Deuce: Epel, what are you doing?

Epel: Vil's making me read the Magicam comments about my scandal as part of my punishment.

Deuce: ....That's awful.

Epel: I would rather clean all the windows in Pomefiore from outside again, if I'm being honest.

Vil: That can be arranged.

Absolutely priceless, Anon. I laughed so hard and got war flashback as if I’m also a veteran of the twisted wonderland in-universe rps shipping wars this felt TOO REAL lol

I also love the fact that Vil made Epel read magicam comments as a form of punishment. This is so so brutal and so Vil-like. Epel needs to learn how to behave himself LOL

[rainydayathogwarts]

ᴄᴏᴡᴏʀᴋᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴇx ᴘᴛ.3 (ꜰɪɴᴀʟ) - ʀᴏʙɪɴ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

pt. 1 | pt. 2

I'm sorry this took so long for me to write, I had the weirdest two weeks of my life and exams are coming like now. I hate this but I also love it. wc: 1.3k Summary: I'm not telling you, you need to go read the first two parts!! Warnings: Internalised homophobia, angsty? Idk they get into an argument. Reader gets defensive quickly and is kind of a bitch.

@gracieluvthemoon @darkd3sire

"Hi" She breathed out, looking over your shoulder and into the room ahead, clearly searching for some sort of distraction. "I'm so glad you're here. Oh-come in. Sorry" You rushed, moving out of the doorway to let the rosy cheeked girl in.

Your eyes caught on the car she had come out of in the background, vaguely similar to one you had spent sleepless nights in. A red BMW. Steve's red BMW. Realising you'd been looking at him, Steve awkwardly waved at you and you clenched your jaw, stiffly raising a hand to say 'hi'.

Why on earth was he so close to her? I mean, of course, they were friends even while you were dating. In fact, Robin was the reason you broke up. Not because he caught feelings for her, because you did. But what if he had as well? Or what if he moved on too quickly? Why did they just suddenly get closer once you two called it quits?

And then you were regretting decisions you made all over again. Maybe the looks Robin gave you were purely platonic and you had misinterpreted them to be something more. I mean no one, no one, liked someone of the same sex. No one but freaks and Robin was in no way, shape or form, one of those.

You snapped back to the present just as you heard Robin muttering a quiet "Oh, hi Nancy." You didn't have to turn around to see Nancy's curt nod back to Robin. Cringing internally, you spun on your heels, kicking the door shut and dragging Robin towards the living room, where the party took place. Next to you, Robing held her breath. Everyone in the room was from your inner circle, meaning either she would have a terrible night with people trying to make small talk with her or you really did like her the way she thought you would. "Could I get you a drink?" You ask, already making your way back to the kitchen. Following you like a lost puppy, Robin enters the kitchen, where you kick out some boys trying to steal one too many beers. You open one, taking a sip and offering the bottle to Robin. She crinkles up her nose and takes it from your hand. She brings it close to her face, before taking a drink from it and scrunching her face in disgust. Hearing your giggles, Robin opens her eyes, and quickly gives you the bottle back when you offer to take it. "How about some punch?" You suggest, and Robin eagerly nods. "So," She starts. "Literally everyone here is pretty much a jock. Why am I here?" You raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the blood rushing to your face. "Please, have you seen Nancy? What about her is a jock?" Robin opens her mouth, trying to argue back, but her cheeks flush a dark pink and she closes it again. "I-fair point. But come on Y/N, I'm a band kid! I've shared classes with some of these people, but I bet if you asked one of them who I am, they won't know." You sigh, putting your drink down. "Well, does it matter what they think if I'm the one who invited you? I just wanted people I like here, but if you really hate it, you can go." You clenched your jaw, looking straight into Robin's eyes, trying to keep your face blank from any emotions. She furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head, and started speaking even as her eyes glossed over with wet tears. "Steve says you do that when you're upset. Your jaw goes tight and you give people that mean stare until you start to cry and they have no idea what they've done wrong."

You scoffed, picking up an empty beer and throwing it in the bin. "Did he? Well I'm sorry you're so obsessed with my ex-boyfriend who asks me out again every single week that you'd come here to talk to me about it! I don't know what's happening with you guys, or what you think is happening, but he doesn't like you that way, I can tell you that! Did you just come here to mock me? To show off that you know him just as well as I do? To rub it in my face that you're the one who's with him everyday and not me? To make sure I know that you're the one listening to his dumb stories and listen to him talking about weird things he's noticed about people that any normal person wouldn't catch on to!? Is that it? Well like you said Robin, you're just a band kid, and that means nothing here!"

You're panting, tears running down your face and you aggressively rub the back of your hand against your nose. It goes scarily silent, the only exception of sound being your panting and the blaring music playing outside this door.

Ten minutes.

Ten minutes was all it took for you to throw out any chance of being in a relationship with Robin, and that was clear from the tears falling onto her rosy cheeks and the way her mouth fell open in shock at what you had said. "God, I-I can't believe it." Robin starts, and you can tell she's going to start ranting with the way she shakes her head faster than your eyes can keep track of. "I can't believe I thought you liked me. Like, not just like me like a friend like me, but like me like you liked Steve like me. But you just- you just like the attention don't you?"

"No, no Robin please."

"This entire time you just figured it out didn't you and you thought it would be amazing to keep not only my hopes high but Steve's, who continued to believe day by day that he still stood a chance with you while you played with my feelings, having me thinking that out of any universe, it would be this one where you liked girls."

You shook your head slowly, bringing up both your hands to rub at your eyes and mess the makeup you had spent a good hour putting on. "You could not be more wrong." You muttered. "You know why I broke up with him?" You asked, wiping the mix of makeup and tears on your trousers, and walking around the kitchen island to stand nearly chest to chest with Robin.

"I broke up with him because every time I walked into Scoops, I became more excited to see you than I was to see him. Because every time he took me into his arms and gave me the most amazing kiss I could ever dream of, I was hoping it would be someone else who did that. But clearly we don't feel the same way so feel free to leave."

You gestured to the door, but one of Robin's hands came up to cup your cheek and pull you into a soft kiss. Reluctantly, one of your hands came to rest on her hip as you returned the kiss, and you hooked a finger around her belt hoop, bringing her body closer to yours. You pulled away panting, Robin's eyes as wide as saucers. "Holy shit."

"I-uh, I'm sorry. For-" "No, no it's fine. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about liking attention and stuff. How about I make it up to you with uh- ice cream?" She asked.

You cringed. "Uh, as long as Steve isn't there. I think ice cream dates are forever ruined for me now."