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#but i really have no idea where i got that impression from so
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Listen, I love Fiddlestan as much as the next guy, but where did we start getting the idea Ford was cold and dismissive towards Fidds during their time working on the portal???
I could totally be wrong because I haven't read every single GF related thing (hell, my journals aren't decoded because I'm a slacker), but like??? The first time he saw him, he bought him his favorite snacks *and* a whole ass banjo and said he'd make it his mission that Fiddleford would be comfortable in his home.
They go adventuring together and talk about things like fashion trends and the future and go stargazing.
Ford is *so* happy when Fiddleford returns that he hugs him immediately. Abd then he feels bad that Fiddleford feels bad about his failing marriage that he throws him a holiday party even though he doesn't celebrate and hates the holidays honestly. And he put on Fiddlefords favorite song (which he despises and honestly? ME TOO FORD. I HAVE BEEF WITH THAT SONG) and drank seemingly spiked eggnog with him despite not usually liking to drink. So that he could make Fiddleford feel better.
He also just openly adores everything Fiddleford does. Maybe it's only in his journals. You could argue he doesn't say it out loud but, like, he exclusively describes him as impressive all of the time-
And I get where it's coming from in like a "oh he's a workaholic who has the pressure of Bill breathing down his neck that he has to be working on the portal 24/7." And like yeah, but in the pages he's a workaholic he's a workaholic practically begging Fiddleford to stay up with him because he loves working along side him. Fiddleford and him work *together.*
Like the page where they're sorta fighting with each other because Ford wants to work more its not "leave me alone Fiddleford, I have to do this" it's "hey! How come you won't stay up with me! Ugh this is so unfair that you're going to bed even though you know I plan to continue working for another hour."
I'm just saying if Fiddleford wanted to cuddle, I imagine Ford's response would be "Oh! Awesome, I love spending time with him 🥰🥰🥰" but he'd just end up using Fidds' back as a table for his studies. Or they'd do that thing where one of them is working on a desk and they sit on one chair in each other's arms.
And, while we're here, realistically? Emotionally stunted, slapped by more women than He's dated, "I can't cry in front of people, and the only thing I'm good for is my fists." Stanley Pines??? He's not cuddling shit. He's got that toxic masculinity ingrained into him. It doesn't matter how incredibly touch starved he is, cuddling is too emotionally intimate and "girly" for him. Honestly if Fiddleford tried to cuddle him he'd probably throw him in a headlock because he's also been on the streets for years now with people constantly trying to attack him.
And I'm not saying this to diss on Fiddlestan. Again, I *like* Fiddlestan! But when I read "Ford could never appreciate him like Stan could" I don't understand it.
They so clearly bonded well together, and if Ford truly was being an asshole (or not an asshole, but just generally unpleasant even when he wasn't possessed) the whole time, I doubt Fiddleford would've stayed. Nostalgia and physical attraction can only get you so far, and Fidds is already facing the horrors in Gravity Falls, Stanford has to be a hell of an amazing person to make someone want to stay. Like, he's a grown adult. Sure he really wanted to impress Ford and allotted himself to be "the tech guy to Ford's smarts" but if he wanted to leave, he could've. And there didn't seem to much keeping him there. Especially when he was having doubts on the portal.
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Oh, Sassy
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Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 3,610 Request: Anonymous. May I ask for Dean getting to know a car girl who is also a chef (like she loves food and stuff)? Take care of yourself and drink enough! Xx
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“Y/L/N!” Your boss called out, making you slide out from under the car you were under. 
“Yeah?” You called back as you got up and made your way to his office. “What’s up?” Leaning on his door frame, you crossed your arms. “I was just finishing up Mr. Carson’s car. You know the one you jumped down my throat about this morning?” You raised an eyebrow. 
Your boss gave you a bored look. “This is Dean Johnson.” He sighed, motioning to the man sitting across from him. “New hire. He’s gonna be shadowing you while he gets used to the garage. Probably only a couple days.” He shrugged. 
You gave Dean a small wave. “Why me? I work odd hours because of the restaurant.” You reminded him. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for him to shadow one of the guys who are here all day?” 
“Nate’s last day is Friday, he’s moving, remember? Then Gage threatened the last guy I hired within two hours and made him quit. Kyle is…Kyle.” All you could do was nod at that, knowing exactly what he meant. Kyle was nice, but a bit out there. 
Sighing, you nodded. “Alright. Well, I’m only here for another hour. It’s up to him if he wants to help me on Mr. Carson’s car or meet me here tomorrow morning.” 
“I’m here, might as well start, right?” He smiled as he got up. “Nice to meet you.” Dean held out his hand for you.
You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N/N. Let’s go get started. Do you have something to change into?” 
He glanced at his clothes, then at you. “Should I? I usually work on cars in jeans and a t-shirt. Sometimes I’ll throw on a jumpsuit.” He shrugged. 
“Yeah, we had jumpsuits when I first started, but we all got tired of wearing them.” You motioned for him to follow you to the car. “Right now I’m finishing up this old 1993 Pontiac Bonneville. Mr. Carson will be in first thing tomorrow morning to pick it up, so you’ll meet him then.” 
“You make it sound like he’s a grumpy old man.” He chuckled. 
“Sometimes.” You said simply, wanting to get back to work. 
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Finally, you were clocked out and walking through the parking lot. You lived just a couple blocks away, so you didn’t bother to drive. You had an hour and a half to clean up and get to your second job. “Need a ride?” Came Dean’s voice, making you look over. He was standing next to a beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala. 
“Nice car.” You motioned. “But I’m good. I live a couple blocks away.” You shrugged. “Thanks, though.” 
“Anytime.” He said simply before getting in. 
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The next day, you yawned as you walked in, downing a large Monster Ultra. “Those things will kill ya.” Dean told you from where he was leaning against the wall. 
“But it keeps all you guys alive after I’ve worked most of the night.” You gave him a sarcastic smile. “And why are you out here…and not in the garage? Are you in time out?” 
“Oh, sassy. Nice.” He smirked, making you roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been put in time out before?” 
“Gage got mouthy my first week here, so I might have superglued a couple of his tools to his bench.” You shrugged. 
Dean threw his head back, laughing. “Oh, that’s hysterical. My brother would do that to me. Don’t give him any ideas if you ever meet him.” He shook his head. “And no, I’m not in time out. I was told to wait out here for my ‘babysitter’ by one of the guys. He didn’t give me a name.” 
You nodded, motioning for him to follow you to the back. “That would be Nate.” You told him. “Bummed that he’s leaving.” He was a chill guy overall, and didn’t really get mouthy like Gage. And he was all there, unlike Kyle. 
“So, you said you worked most of the night. Second job?”
“Yeah, I’m a chef.” You finished your drink and tossed the can into the recycling bin. 
His eyebrows shot up. “So, you’re a mechanic and a chef?” Dean couldn’t tell if he was more surprised or impressed, then remembered hearing you mention a restaurant the day before. Now that made sense. “Couldn’t pick one?” 
Laughing, you pulled your hair into a pony tail. “Nope. I used to help my dad work on cars when I was a kid. He died when I was 13, and I kept it up. When I was 15 I got sick. I binged Food Network for a few days. I went to culinary school when I graduated. Couldn’t find a job as a chef right away, so I got a job as a mechanic right outside of town. After working there a year, I finally landed a job as a chef. Quit my other job. And that seemed to be okay for a bit, but something was missing.” 
“You missed being a grease monkey.” 
You nodded. “I really did. Started working here about 9 months ago. Bossman likes to get on my case. I think it’s because I’m the only girl, but he’s not a bad guy.” By now you were used to it, and just dealt with it. “What about you? What’s your story, Johnson?” 
“Traveled a lot as a kid, and kept it up after my dad died about a year and a half ago. Finally decided I was tired of it. So, me and my brother picked a spot to stay put for a while.” Dean knew he was omitting details, but he didn’t feel he was truly lying to you. How could he say he was wanted by the FBI? And that his family had hunted spirits up until recently? That his brother had psychic powers? He would be honest as much as he could, while keeping out other things. 
“Losing a parent is tough. I’m sorry for your loss.” You said honestly. 
“Y/L/N. Mr. Carson is here for his car!” Your boss called down the hall. 
“Coming!” You called back before glancing at Dean. “Ready to see if he’s a grumpy old man today?” 
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You and Dean got along great, and you found yourself crushing on him as the days went by. He was easy to talk to, and it was nice to have a friend at work. A couple weeks after he started, you approached him at lunch. “Hey, De? I have a question.” 
He grinned at you. “De, I like it. What can I do for you?” 
“There’s this awards thing for all the chefs in the state this weekend, and I kinda don’t want to go alone…” You explained awkwardly. “I was wondering if you’d come with me?” 
“Like a date?” He licked his lips, clearly flirting with you. 
There was no way to stop the blush that formed on your cheeks. “I-if you’d like.” Why turn down a date with a fun, nice, and handsome guy? 
“Do I need a suit?” 
“Unless you have a tux.” You joked. “But a suit should be fine.” 
Dean sipped his soda. “Guess we’ll have to exchange numbers. I can drive. We can arrive in style. Unless you have a nicer car than Baby, which I doubt.” 
“I have nothing as pretty as her.” You told him. “Dinner will be served at the awards, as well, so we’ll be well fed.” 
“Do I get to try your cooking?” He was curious, that was for sure. 
You pretended to think. “Maybe on our second date.” 
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Dean leaned against Baby as he waited for you downstairs. He stood up straight when he saw you come out. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.” 
“You look very handsome, too. You didn’t have to rent a tux, though.” You smiled. 
“It’s an awards thing, right? Gotta look good.” He brushed over the front of his jacket. “And clearly I needed it because you look… wow .” It wasn’t like him to be this speechless, but he was so used to seeing you in a tank top and jeans. He was used to seeing you with grease all over you, your hair pulled up out of your face. “Shall we?” He moved to open the door for you. 
Smiling, you stepped forward. “We shall. And hey, maybe you’ll be a good luck charm and I’ll win an award.” It would mean a lot to you if you did. 
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“Hi, Dean, come in.” You opened your apartment door for him. The date to the awards had been a blast, even if you didn’t win anything. When he dropped you off after, you kissed his cheek and asked him out on a second date for the next night. Dinner at your place. 
His face lit up when he saw you. “Hi, sweetheart.” He greeted you. “Oh, these are for you.” He held out a bouquet of flowers. 
Smiling, you took them. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” You shut the door behind him once he was inside. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, water, soda, milk?” 
“Beer. Thank you.” He looked around your living room as you went to put the flowers in some water and get him a beer. “So, something smells amazing.” His mouth was watering. 
“Thank you.” Handing him his beer, you sipped your own. “Baked potatoes are almost done, and then I’m making some steaks with butter garlic onions. Then, for dessert, homemade cherry pie.” 
“Love me some cherry pie.” Dean winked. “Sounds delicious, sweetheart.” One perk about staying in one place was not having to microwave his meals. “Maybe for our next date I’ll have you over for burgers. I make a mean bacon cheeseburger. I’m sure I can tell my brother to scram for a few hours.” He was already mentally planning a few dates for the two of you, wanting to spend as much time as he could with you. He pictured taking you to the movies, out to eat, to the beach, and to the fair. Maybe walking away from hunting was the best thing that happened to him because he’d met you. 
You smirked at him. “What? Are you worried your brother is more charming than you?” You teased him. 
He chuckled and shook his head. “More like I don’t want my baby brother around while we’re on a date.” He countered before taking a swig of his beer. “Want any help?” He asked when your timer went off. 
“Sure. Can you get the cheese and sour cream from the fridge and put them on the table? And how do you like your steak? Warning: you say well done and I’m kicking you out.” You gave him a playful look. You couldn’t help it, he made you feel fun . 
“You wound me. Do I look like the kind of douche that would order ‘well done’?” He put his hand on his chest. “Medium-rare, thank you.” 
“Good boy.” You winked before heading to start the steaks. Hearing Dean groan lightly, you giggled to yourself. 
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One year from the date of that awards show, you were moving into the house that Sam and Dean rented. You got along with Sam, and had no problems with him staying. If anything, you felt it was a really good idea. Because you had two jobs, there were technically four incomes for one home (also, because you worked two jobs…you did the least amount of housework, only doing it on your days off). “That was the last box.” You grinned as you saw Dean coming down the stairs. “I am officially all moved in.” 
“Awesome.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Sammy has to work until 5, so he said he’ll meet us for dinner.” He took the box from you and went to take it upstairs. 
“So, this means we have a few hours to ‘celebrate’? Just us?” You followed him, eyes on his butt. “I work tonight, so right now would be perfect.” 
“I like how you think, sweetheart.” The two of you just seemed to fit together perfectly. 
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“I’m home!” You called out as you shut the door behind you. 
“You’re early.” Dean glanced at the clock. “Like…4 hours early. What’s wrong?” He saw the look on your face and rushed to you. 
You sniffed. “Uh, remember Darla?” 
He nodded. “Yeah, the older waitress that told you she wanted to pinch my cheeks? Everything okay?” 
“She didn’t come in for her shift tonight, which is really unlike her. She has never missed a shift without calling, and even that’s rare.” You started. “So we sent Jimmy, the busboy, to check on her.” Your voice broke. “Poor Darla…Poor Jimmy.” 
“Baby, what happened?” 
“Her door was busted in. And sh-she was dead. Brutally killed.” He pulled you to him, holding you tight as you cried. “We closed early for the night, and the cops came to talk to everyone before we got sent home.” 
He hated that you were hurting, but beyond thankful that you weren’t the one that went to check on her. You didn’t need to see something like that. “Do they have any idea who killed her?” 
You shook your head. “I asked one of the officers how she died. The look on his face…” You breathed, pulling away slightly to look up at him. “He said he’s never seen anything like it, and if he didn’t know any better, that a bear got her.” 
“A bear?” He furrowed his brows. 
“That’s how bad she looked.” Letting out a breath, you stepped back. “I’m going to take a hot shower and take a couple sleeping pills.” You kissed his cheek softly. 
He nodded, rubbing your arm. “I’ll be up shortly.” Sam was supposed to be home from work soon, and wanted to talk to him about this. Something in his gut told him his two years in town were coming to an end. He watched you slip off your shoes and then make your way upstairs. He’d stay and grow old with you if he had the choice. Part of him had let himself dream about an actual future with you. The two of you working on Baby with a little you. Him watching you teach a little him how to properly chop on onion. Clenching his jaw, he forced down the tears. 
“Dean?” Sam paused in the door. “What’s going on?” 
Looking at his brother, he didn’t have to say a word. He saw that Sam understood what was going on. Sam knew that them living away from the supernatural was over. He was angry enough that he was losing his apple pie life, but even angrier that Sam was losing his. His baby brother had really just started letting his guard down in the last 6 months or so. Just in time for it to blow up in their faces. 
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Dean jerked awake when his phone rang. “Hello?” He yawned as you shifted besides him. “Bobby?” He sat up. Dean had called him now and then to check in, but Bobby never called him. 
“You still in that town you told me you settled in?” 
“Yeah, we are.” He said softly, glancing at you before slipping out of bed. He didn’t want to risk waking you up. 
Bobby sighed. “Been hearing rumors from the town about half an hour away. Sounds like a crossroads demon.” He warned him. “I don’t know if it ever went your way…”
Dean groaned. “It has.” He knew that was what tore Darla apart. “Y/N/N’s coworker must have been one of them. She came home upset, and I can’t blame her. Darla was always nice.” He ran a hand over his face. “We had planned to keep an eye out just in case.” 
“Not gonna lie, was hoping it woulda passed your town by.” Bobby told him. 
Standing in the kitchen, Dean looked out the window into the backyard. The same backyard that you had just been lounging in the day before, in the bikini you’d bought just to wear for him. “Maybe it’s a sign, Bobby.” He said, letting his emotions show. “Maybe it’s a sign I need to get out of town. What’s next? Werewolves? Vampires? I can’t let her die.” 
“Dean, you’ve been there two years.” Bobby pointed out. “In those two years I’ve heard you happier than I ever have before. You’ve sounded more alive than ever before.” He was clearly trying to talk Dean out of leaving. “That woman loves you! And from what Sam says, she’s perfect for you. Walk away now, and you’ll always wonder what could have been.” 
“What happens if we decide to have a family one day, and then something comes after them? What if I can’t protect them?” 
“Boy, that’s a question every parent has. To this day I wonder the same damn thing! You boys might be hunters, but you’re my boys. At least think about things.” 
Sighing, Dean closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bobby. We’re leaving.” 
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Waking up, you rolled over to cuddle Dean, but he wasn’t there. “De?” You blinked, slipping out of bed. Usually, if he couldn’t sleep, you could find him in the garage, so that’s where you went. “De?” 
He whipped around, blocking the trunk. “Baby?” He had clearly been crying. 
“What’s going on? What the hell is that in your trunk?” You moved over to look. “Why do you have so many weapons?” Your eyes went to him. “Why were you crying?” 
“Let’s go inside to talk. Sammy, why don’t you go start packing my clothes?” He glanced to Sam, who was off to the side. 
“Why does he need to pack your clothes?” Why weren’t you getting any answers? You pulled your arm from him as he tried to lead you away from Baby. “Talk to me!” 
“My name isn’t Dean Johnson.” He swallowed. “My name is Dean Winchester, and up until I moved to town…Sammy and I traveled the country hunting things.” 
You raised an eyebrow. “Hunting things? Like deer?” 
“I wish.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “Vampires, ghosts, demons, wendigos.” He listed. 
Blinking, you tried to let that sink in. “You’re telling me that’s all real?” You stared at him. “Say I believe you, why leave now? Why try to leave in the middle of the night?” 
“Because Darla was killed by a hellhound. She must have made a crossroads deal and her time was up.” He explained. “It was a wake up call. We can’t escape that life.” 
“You’re leaving me, us, because someone else was killed?” Of course you cared about Darla, but what did she have to do with your relationship with Dean? 
“What if the next thing that comes through targets you?” 
“By that logic- you running away from your girlfriend is running away from protecting her!” You countered. “What if something comes through, and you aren’t here? What then, Dean?!” 
“Us being here is like a beacon. Bad things just follow us.” 
You shook your head. “So, what the hell was the last 2 years? What bad happened then?” You locked your eyes on his. “What ‘bad thing’ followed you over these past 2 years?”
He looked down. “Nothing.” He admitted. “They were the best 2 years of my life. I let myself hope for things that I can’t have.” He managed. 
“Who the hell says you can’t have them? I’m here, aren’t I? I love you, and I think I’m pretty fucking good!” You threw your hands up. 
“Sam got out once. Had the apple pie life. It got his girlfriend killed.” He told you. “I can’t let that happen to you. I love you too much.” 
Clenching your jaw, you stepped closer to him. “So don’t let it.” You said firmly. “Teach me.” 
Dean whipped his head up to stare at you. “What?” He breathed. 
“Teach me. I’m a fast learner.” Your heart was pounding in your chest. “We stay right here while you teach me anything I have to know. I’m sure there’s a way to make this house safe, right?” He nodded a bit. “Then we do that. I’ll quit my job as a chef, and we keep working. All three of us. You teach me until you think I know what I need to know. Then we can leave.” 
“I can’t ask you to do that. You have a life here.” The pain couldn’t be hidden from his eyes. “You don’t want to live motel to motel. Eating shitty food and sleeping on crappy beds.” 
You cupped his cheek and gave him a soft smile. “You know why I want to do this?” 
“Why?” 
“Because I love you too much to let you walk away from me.” You kissed him softly. “I can’t see my life without you. We all have some money put aside, and we can put even more aside between now and when we leave. That’ll get us a couple nicer motel rooms now and then, right?” 
Dean looked in your eyes, wondering how the hell he got so lucky to find you. “You believe me?” 
You took a breath. “Mostly.” You admitted. “It’s a hard thing to wrap my head around, but I’m sure as you tell me more, and as you teach me- I’ll come around.” Your heart told you to trust what he was saying. “Please, let’s go back inside, tell Sam to stop packing, and talk.” 
“You won’t hate me for taking you from the two things you love? Cooking and working on cars?” 
“I’d hate myself for letting you walk away.” 
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amethystina · 6 months
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Hey! That ask you answered about protective Yo Han reminded me of this gem from the script book. I don't know if you're interested in anything script-related, but in case you are, here it is. A slightly different way the scene in E3 was supposed to go, when Yo Han came to the factory and attacked the man who put a bomb in the painting. (Also, 'forced' means 'Yo Han', all translators use this word instead of his name for some reason).
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Personally, I loved the "do you know who you hurt?", the madness "increasingly" filling Yo Han's eyes, and him glaring at K when he asked if this was about Ga On. I'm amazed that he got so protective of him so quickly, it's just E3. To think of what he'd do post-canon... thank God (and you, of course!) for your amazing story. I can't tell you how much I'm waiting for everything you're going to bring down on us.
Hope you're doing better!
I haven't gone out of my way to look for the script, no, but I do read the little snippets I might run into on Tumblr and such. So I'm not NOT interested? But also too lazy to go look for it xD
And, tbh, I don't want to accidentally mistake something that was written in the script — but then taken out — as something that actually happened in canon. I have a really good memory but I don't always remember WHERE I read/saw/heard a specific fact so there's a chance I might mistake it as a part of canon even if it's not x'D
But, all that said, I am FASCINATED by this new information, not going to lie. I think that the increasing madness was still captured pretty well in the final version, but the "Do you know who you hurt?" Oh yes, I'm into that. Because while it COULD still just mean that Yo Han is referring to himself, I like that it leaves room for speculation. Very nice.
Though, at the same time, I feel like I have to be a responsible person and point out that, most likely, the reason why Yo Han reacts so violently as early as episode 3 is probably because of Isaac, not Ga On. Like, at that point, I think Yo Han is still struggling a bit with separating the two. Not that he ever mistakes them for each other, obviously, but it's probably a little disorienting until he gets to know Ga On better and can see all the differences more clearly. So it wouldn't surprise me if some of that protectiveness is because Ga On looks like Isaac, at least this early. It brings back very bad memories, and all.
But post-canon? That protectiveness would be for Ga On only. And, as always, Yo Han would hold nothing back.
And we will be exploring that a bit in Who Holds the Devil, yes. Not quite on the level of "I'm going to bring the entire country to its knees," but hopefully still enough to satisfy everyone's need for protective Yo Han ;)
Thank you so much for sending me this! I hope you have a wonderful evening 💜
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thekimspoblog · 3 months
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Demon trying to feed on my insecurities: "You're a bad driver"
Me: "Of course I am. I hate driving. Going 80 mph surrounded by tons of metal is nerve-wrecking. I try to do it as little as possible. Of course I'm bad at it"
Demon: "You're a bad writer"
Me: "Well that part's simply not true. I never claimed I was the greatest author of my generation, but when I put pen to paper I know what I want to communicate and I usually do it well. If someone isn't impressed with my work, that's unfortunate but they're entitled to their opinion"
Demon: "You're a bad leader"
Me: "Well I don't know about that! I mean there was that one time when... Ok look just because people don't see me as an authority figure doesn't mean... 😠 You know you can be a real asshole, demon!"
#joking aside the reason I suck at helping people is probably not dissimilar from why I'm bad at driving#the joke is “having good ideas which would work if people let you boss them around” and#“having enough charisma to persuade people to let you boss them around” are two different skills and I don't have nearly enough patience#for the latter#but no really it makes me deeply insecure seeing sycophants rally around the most transparently incompetent and self-interested POS people#and meanwhile I'm getting called shrill and presumptuous for pointing out that the left-wing is poorly organized and I could do it better#can we agree it's at least a little bit because I have aspergers and no penis?#like I realize what I'm doing is the political equivalent of “but I'm such a nice guy!” and I'm literally complaining that no one#respects ma authoritah#but just saying: maybe I wouldn't come off as such a petulant misanthrope#if I wasn't constantly being asked to fix problems that could have been avoided if everyone listened to me in the first place#“nobody likes an i-told-you-so” yeah that's why democracies keep falling to fascism cus you want someone pleasant over someone correct#at the same time sooner or later you have to look in the mirror#and I can count the group projects I've successfully headed on one hand; maybe it's me#if it was just that people don't listen to me than yeah this would just mean I have an ego#but there are plenty of women the left could be rallying around and it doesn't because of minor scandals and anarchist ideals#it's stupid and I'm becoming a tankie just because i'm sick of the idea#that political goals can be accomplished without a clear chain of commmand#i don't need to be the leader but WE NEED A LEADER#the hatian revolution succeeded because Toussaint Louverture organized random slave rioting into an actual army#and I just wish I had that kind of magic myself but I might already be too bitter#ftr this isn't in response to anything that happened recently I'm just still mad thinking about an anarchist group I tried to join#on facebook five years ago where I asked point blank what the marching orders were and got blocked for being “obviously a cop”#and the mod comes at me with “anarchists don't have leaders IDIOT”#yeah well you're the guys always saying you only oppose UNJUST hierarchies idiot!#excuse me for thinking you guys had a plan beyond perpetual infighting#not everyone asking blunt questions about the anarchist platform are feds you guys are just paranoid and ableist#and when you block people for asking what game plan is it really sounds like you just plain don't have one (which is depressing)#I don't care how many books there are about how anarchism is more than just “wanting a free-for-all”#if you attack anyone who tries to impose a hierarchy just to get shit done it really seems like that first impression of
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artsycloudysleepy · 5 months
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Here to go! Sorry for not making you art I’m tired lol
*SCREAMS*
OH MY STARS THANK YOU SO MUCH :0000
THIS HAS MADE MY DAY I LOVE HOW YOU DRAW THEM!!! TYSM!!!
:D
(edit: why do i ramble so much in tags lol. at least it's an awesome thing to ramble abt :D)
#artsy's woah#artsy's moot sillies#artsy's socks#artsy's chichi#artsy's chaaya#artsy's fabrication#artsy's dew#artsy's ocs#I DID NOT EXPECT THIS WHATSOEVER THANK YOU#HOW FAST DO YOU DRAW????#(btw u don't have to apologise for anything!! i'm not holding u at gunpoint to draw my blorbos - i'm just so happy u do in the first place!#(and the tiredness is a mood lmfao dw /gen)#(also i will draw uni today or during the weekend! my motivation and energy fluctuate and i am MUCH procrastination lol)#BUT ABOUT THE BEAUTIFUL ART I SEE BEFORE ME:#socks is so adorable in your style!! little weird plush that is probably not sentient. probably sentient. who knows. he is SO CUTE#i love the shape of his tentacles btw#chichi!! with their apply juice!! they look so cool!!!#(also i LOVE the freckles you gave it! it looks so cute with them!!)#CHAAYA. YHE EEPIEST OF EEPIES. SHE LOOKS LIKE ME EVERY SINGLE DAY UPON REALISING LIFE EXISTS OUTSIDE OF BED#also i have no idea if her glaring at socks is intentional or just happened to be where they were drawn but that is SO canon lmao#i mean she's 6yo so does get snappy if past her bedtime. plus socks is Not Liked by ppl apart from azzie so he is Prime Glaring Target lol#actually screw it i'm making it canon that whenever chaaya's overtired everyone can tell bc she glares at Socks for hours without breaks :)#dew picks her up for bed and she doesn't break eye contact. just glares until socks is gone#AND SPEAKING OF DEW. STARS HE LOOKS AMAZING#HIS POSE IS SO BRILLIANT HOW DO YOU DO IT#i really love how you drew her clothes!! especially the jacket and the jeans - they would 100% have most of their pairs ripped#(tho more likely from falling over rather than design lol. i have dyspraxia like her and can confirm half my clothes are in tatters ;-;)#(also side note the way you draw shoes is *chef's kiss*. stunning /gen)#you also got their personalities so well!! your art is so impressive :0#and their hair is so fluffy. i wish to pet it (they would all kill me and/or scream if i did such a thing. especially chichi)
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fellhellion · 11 months
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as a purely personal preference i honestly kind of wish sm/2099 had more self contained issues and/or specials, since the restrained format seems to really prompt the writers (PAD as well as the guest writers of the specials) to play around with and explore a particular niche of the world building implications of 2099 upon the characters.
#i honestly want to read some more of PAD's work because i get the impression that he gets kind of. lost??? narratively sometimes??? on the#journey to get where he wants to go w the point of the arcs#the first ten issues are - imo - as good as they are w their pacing Because they would've been the pitch arc yknow?#arc 2 has a Really interesting core idea that its driving at (exploring what the prevelance of cults and new faith religiosity#in 2099 is all about) but by the time you GET to the core of that arc it feels like weve lingered too long in the question of#'are supes back?' instead of exploring what that MEANS to the characters (and the fuckign xmen crossover oh lord <- hater disease)#because the mystery of 'are supes back' is just. honestly not that interesting when you dont explore what Effects this would have on miguel#esp right out of the gate of his first Real Spiderman Identity Actualisation. 'spiderman 2099 meets spiderman' seems to retroactively speak#to all of that characater unpacking i WANTED from arc 2 but the fact of the matter is that - imo - 2 spends too long on the set up and too#little on the implications of the answers WHICH ARE FACINATING ANSWERS.#also AS a hater of crossovers i just think dooms inclusion is very disjointed in the story. hes got some interesting stuff to say when hes#around but when he disappears for like 20 issues and by the time he does a military coup (the buildup to which was in his OWN run) ur just#kind of disorientated by his reemergence in the narrative. comic reader complains about hallmarks of the medium SURE but like.#for STORYTELLING purposes i feel like this isnt the best. like to prioritise reiterating miguels venom abilities so new readers know whats#going on w him but assuming its not going to be disorientating if doom suddenly injects himself into the narrative#where the stakes and buildup are in a COMPLETELY different run and never alluded to just honestly sucks as storytelling to me#like ur going to give new readers a power run down of the protagonist of THE RUN??? but not coordinate foreshadowing for your own crossover#???? like i KNOW that would be a lot of work but its also like. why NOT make the effort to do it effectively yknow?#tunes talks critical#man this went all over the place#tunes talks 2099
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yamujiburo · 1 month
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A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.
I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.
I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.
She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.
A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.
All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.
Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!
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lovegasmic · 21 days
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 𝜗𝜚 HOW THEY HIT ON YOU
─── . satoru , suguru , sukuna , kento, toji x f!reader
꒰ request : jjk men noticing you during a night out ꒱
꒰ fluff : curseless au ◞ maybe ooc Satoru and Suguru◞ mentions of reader drinking ◞ suggestive and a bit of touching w Toji ꒱ ★ taglist
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࣪ ִֶָ☾.  SATORU
it’s even a little bit funny the way Satoru eyes you up and down, casually sipping on a non alcoholic beverage while fixing his sunglasses, not subtle in the slightest, there is to add, not as if he actually tried.
an elbow straight into Suguru’s waist and the dark haired man groans, “fucker...”
“look at that girl over there” Satoru, again, does nothing to be subtle, motioning towards you standing at the bar with a friend.
“the one you’ve been ogling at while I talk?”
“isn’t she so pretty?”
it’s like talking to a damn wall.
“i’m going to talk to her”
yet Suguru raises a brow as if the sudden approach was not a good idea, “you sure man, she looks kinda busy with her fri—”
and he’s gone, walking with confidence and a smirk to mask the actual nervousness rushing through the white haired’s body.
“hey” is the first thing he says, elbow propped up on the bar next to you, “can I get you a drink?” eyes drop to the glass on your hand, “... another?”
that did not start well, but your smile makes up for the embarrassment, “sure” you say finally, after a second of knowing glances towards your friend, which didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru, so by reflex, the cocky smirk is back.
he orders a drink, asking for your order or perhaps if you’re feeling adventurous, “and while we’re at it... can I have your name?”
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࣪ ִֶָ☾. SUGURU
“the trick is to aim for the head” Suguru casually blurts out. mansplaining? nah, he’s genuinely trying to help after watching you struggle in the claw machine for quite some time now, having come up next to you with soft, light steps that did not break your previous concentration.
the truth is, Suguru was looking at you earlier, something about your determination made him prop his cheek on a hand and look at you, entertained by your groans and complaints whenever the plushie you were trying to get just slipped past the cough, broken claw.
“this game is broken either way” you huff a laugh, turning to stare at the eyes of the stranger man, with a soft gaze and gentle smile, “wanna give it a try?”
“only if you tell me your name first” so that’s how he does it. you thought to yourself, offering a chuckle and your name before he nodded his head, “i’m Suguru”
then he’s gently moving you around, with a hand on your lower back so you’re switching positions, sliding a coin into the slot and getting into position.
it was truly not as if he tried to impress you, he did not, but... maybe... just maybe he did, pulling out all his highschool knowledge learnt from his best friends, and avoiding the part where they all shook the machine when didn’t get a prize.
“is that the one you want?” he really did not need to ask since he already saw you struggle to get it, but still waits for your affirmation before proceeding.
“you really are a magician or something” you chuckle, gripping the plushie Suguru just got for you, “thank you”
“no need to thank me... why don’t you... just give me your phone number?”
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࣪ ִֶָ☾.  SUKUNA
approaching you? pfft no. the... tv screen was more visible from the spot Sukuna currently sat at the sports bar, an important match was happening so the bar was crowded, and oh, coincidentally, he chose a table coincidentally closer to where you sat with other people.
when the night started, Sukuna was focused on the game, until of course, you arrived, and his heart skipped a beat.
“that guy is so into you” one of your friends giggles next to your ear, eyeing at Sukuna while you roll your eyes.
“where did you get that from?” it was obvious the man was not interested, with a lazy position, arms draped over the backrest of the booth and a leg crossed, so uninterested.
“he’s totally into you, I can sense this kind of thing, plus, he stared at you when you went to the bathroom”
that... was true, Sukuna couldn’t help and let his eyes drift from the screen and towards you, checking you out in a way that was apparently not too subtle.
but he was not desperate, he was not the one to approach first, girls fell for him, girls wanted his attention, girls that weren’t as half as pretty as you.
“fuck” he grumbles, annoyed by his own feelings while suddenly and quite unexpectedly standing up to go to the toilet, only for you to land face first into his chest as you were about to leave.
“oh, god, i’m so sorry!" you gasp, noticing the stain of food on his shirt from where your leftovers package smashed into him. and Sukuna should be mad, really, but it was so cute how you rambled apologies and clumsily wiped the stain with napkins.
“i didn’t mean it, i—”
“it was quite expensive”
...huh?, “huh?”
“the shirt” he mutters, the previous stoic expression turning into a devilish smirk, Sukuna was an idiot, watching the color drain from your face, “you better pay it back”
“i... i can tr—”
“do you have somewhere to go after this?”
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࣪ ִֶָ☾.  KENTO
for the blonde, there was no better way than destressing after a long day at work, then getting drinks.
hopefully without his annoying white haired coworker getting on his nerves.
he often does not care about his surroundings, that’s how he is, quietly taking his own drinks without minding everyone, until you arrive.
you look troubled, it’s been a while since you got in and sat at a table in the back, are you sad? lost? did your friends cancel on you? or are you just awfully early to meet someone?
doesn’t matter, but Kento is unable to keep his eyes off you.
he’s being nice, alright? “can I sit with you?” somehow getting up from his seat and coming to you, his smile is kind and points at the now empty table he was previously at, “i came alone, might as well have some company” he says, holding back the need to say ‘pretty company’
“of course” you know he means no harm, sitting quite far in a still polite distance while clearing his throat and engaging in small talk.
without realising the hours pass, between friendly chatter and introductions exchanged, leaving the bar with a promise of a future date.
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࣪ ִֶָ☾.  TOJI
“did you see the hunk standing at the back?” you and your friend giggle, not so subtly stealing glances at Toji, whose casual pose leaning against a wall and hand holding some cheap beer was enough to make most people at the bar swoon.
“you should talk to him” your friend wiggles her brows playfully, “he’s so your type”
“he’s hot, but kinda looks like a criminal...”
“you love that, don’t you?” and ouch, she was right.
and said comment did not go unnoticed by Toji, who was far but not too much as not to hear your giggling, truth is he was eyeing you for a while, eyes on how your outfit showed your body, and how he wished to come a bit closer and smell what perfume you used.
Toji has never been a man to mince his words, gulping down the rest of his beer and walking to you with a smirk and a brief flirty lick of his teeth as soon as your friend rushed to give you some privacy while still remaining within an earshot.
“have some business with me, doll?” and oh, that should not have been so hot, making you squirm and face heat from being caught.
“i um, no ...?”
“you and your friend have been looking at me for a while” she’s quick to flee after hearing that, not waiting to see how Toji’s hand casually rests on your waist, subtly and almost unnoticeable tugging you closer.
“i’d offer to get you a drink but I think you had enough” liar, he just didn’t have money, “so why don’t we get some fresh air instead?” and you fall for it, squirming and nodding at the promise of what would happen later, or perhaps, at the alley next to the bar.
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whateveriwant · 10 months
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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc
This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright
Price
HA! Good one!
No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around
That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart
Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)
He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress
Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...
Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off
She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions
What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)
Ghost
When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so
You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants
But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on
You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.
The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move
You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love
His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise
But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?
Soap
If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap
From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas
You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine
Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)
You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!
For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle
But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?
Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some
Gaz
By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is
Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps
There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't
You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest
And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most
But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…
He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?
You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲
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patrophthia · 10 months
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mini skirt | theodore nott
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pairing: theodore nott x reader
wc: 3.5k
genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am
smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing
summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.
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Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.
There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"
Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."
"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"
He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"
You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.
"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."
And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"
"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.
Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."
"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."
His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.
But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.
You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"
His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."
You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."
"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.
"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"
Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."
You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."
"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."
There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"
"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."
It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.
Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.
"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."
"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"
"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.
Fuck, Blaise was not lying.
In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"
"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."
It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"
"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."
His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.
He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.
He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"
You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"
And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."
"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."
His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."
Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.
It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.
"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"
Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"
You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"
You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"
Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”
“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”
Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”
Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."
You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.
"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.
Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.
Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."
"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"
"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."
"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.
You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.
His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.
Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.
Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."
Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."
And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.
"Hey, I liked those!"
"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."
"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."
You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."
"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."
" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."
"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."
" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."
Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.
"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."
The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."
"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."
You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”
“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."
And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”
“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”
“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.
"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"
You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"
“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”
You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"
"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."
Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.
Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.
Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"
Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"
"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."
"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.
"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."
Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."
"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.
"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.
"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"
"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."
"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"
Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.
"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."
Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"
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— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡
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seat-safety-switch · 6 months
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I don't know if you've ever been to Paris before, but I recommend going. Normally, I would not have gone, but I made a really rich enemy on IRC and he spent a lot of money to have me kidnapped and brought to his home country. While I was there, I got to try a bunch of restaurants (they're hostage-takers, not barbarians) and came away impressed. Something was missing, though, and herein is my genius idea.
In Paris you can get any kind of food. Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Thai: and it's all good. All of it. You literally can't find a bad restaurant. At one point, I walked into a convenience store and got a plate of one-Euro nachos that made me cry at the beauty of the arrangement.
Everyone around me was taking this for granted. Having lived there for years, their quality threshold had crept invisibly upwards until nothing could impress again. They needed something to re-calibrate their sense of truly bad food. That's where I came in. After I got kicked out of the country, I decided to come back with some investor support. I can burn cereal, usually by roasting it gently with a blowtorch on the top of an old gas can. Investors were easy to find.
Our first week of opening was tremendous. Hardened Parisians were discovering their first taste of truly incompetent food. The novelty of it all had captured them. There's just one problem, though: after making an entire lunch rush's feast of poorly-cut toast in reheated canned soup, my cooking skills began to improve from sheer experience. The complaints began to change tone. You got too good, they cried, you're not the same bad chef we once loved. Again, I was deported.
I looked out the window of the plane as it left De Gaulle, staring down onto the beautiful streets of Paris. Down there, I imagined, real gourmets were now eating food out of trash cans out of desperation to recapture what they had experienced with me. If there is one nice thing to be said, I now have two Michelin Stars here in my homeland of Canada, where my consommé-and-grilled-cheese recipe is now so much better than most of our restaurants that it made the Prime Minister Herself come and spit in my face for ruining the economy, before awarding me an Order of Canada. It's not the same.
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wheneverfeasible · 1 month
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Continuation “fix it” of this ficlet where Steve changed himself to try to earn Eddie’s love.
Steve missed his polos.
He missed his light wash jeans, his music, watching his favorite movies, he even missed his stupid plaid walls.
Eddie had laughed at them the first time he’d been in Steve’s room, back before they’d even started dating. Technically they were still there, they were just covered up with posters of bands Steve only knew about because his boyfriend liked them. Eddie had teasingly gifted him a Black Sabbath one back when they had just been friends to give his room more “personality” instead of his mostly undecorated room, which…okay, fair, because Steve had admittedly not done much of it himself just because he couldn’t be bothered.
(And he did, actually, kind of like the poster because it was their own little inside joke. It made him smile when he saw it, even to this day, even if he thought he could still taste the damned demobat sometimes.)
It wasn’t like he really knew much of who he was to begin with. He still had the bowling pin he and Tommy had stolen from the bowling lane their sophomore year (Steve’s idea, though only to impress his friend), and the picture of the car he had bought on a whim because Tommy had said he wanted a car just like it. Any other knickknack had either been gifted or purchased for a similar intent.
Now, that car picture was collecting dust in his closet, replaced by the Black Sabbath poster that Eddie had pinned to the wall slightly askew for ‘aesthetics,’ though it being slightly off-center and at an angle made Steve a little itchy. Soon, however, other posters soon followed, some given to him by Eddie and some he purchased himself after learning what bands Eddie liked, with a large Dio one taking up space by his bed.
Flyers of Corroded Coffin shows or other band merch dotted around the room as well, which he didn’t really mind because he liked supporting his boyfriend, though the clutter and disorganization slightly bothered him. Eddie had grinned at the sight however and called him a ‘real boy now’ for looking like the room of a young man and not a ‘30-something corporate stooge,’ so that would have to be fine too.
But he still missed his room looking like his room, instead of a replica of Eddie’s. It made Eddie feel more comfortable however, so he tried not to think about how it wasn’t his aesthetic at all, because he could learn to like it. He could change for the better. He could be what Eddie wanted. He could be good enough.
Which was why he was confused, staring at the garment box on the kitchen table where he’d been circling car ads in the classifieds, trying to find something cooler than his bimmer. Eddie had come over with a wide grin, sliding a box he recognized from one of the department stores he used to shop at before dating Eddie.
Eddie had proffered it with a flourish, grinning expectantly, practically vibrating with anticipation as Steve had carefully lifted the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal the piece of clothing inside. A polo shirt in a soft, buttery sort of yellow with thick vertical white stripes running vertical over it.
Steve looked up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. “I…you got me a polo?” he questioned, confused and also concerned, knowing the department store was definitely outside of Eddie’s usual price range.
“Yeah!” Eddie confirmed happily, moving to sit in the chair next to Steve, looking down at the soft material Steve had yet to pull from the box. “The check from the gig came through, and I remember you looking at this shirt a couple weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to be buy it ever since.”
Steve blinked at that. He hadn’t known Eddie had caught him admiring the shirt in the window while he and Eddie had been walking around downtown. He felt a flair of panic at the thought, annoyed at himself for slipping up, for reminding Eddie that he was a stupid preppy rich kid. Eddie didn’t look upset though, or at least…he hadn’t. Now his eyes were darting over Steve’s expression with growing worry, chewing on his lower lip.
“Is that…is that all right? Was it a different one you wanted? I-I still have the receipt, we can return it and get the one you wanted,” Eddie rushed to say.
“No,” Steve quickly said, his fingers of one hand tightening slightly on the box while his other reached out of their own accord to slightly touch the shirt within. “I…Eddie,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say, what this meant. Why would Eddie buy him something like this? “You shouldn’t waste your hard earned money on…something like this.” Shouldn’t waste your money on me, he wanted to say. “It’s your first paying gig.”
Eddie shook his head quickly, an almost embarrassed smile curling his lips with a slight blush. “I wanted to, Stevie. You always buy me things, I wanted to return the favor. You’ve been so supportive of me and I wanted to…I don’t know. Thank you.” He glanced down at the polo with a soft expression, though he did frown a little too afterwards. “I haven’t seen you wear your polos in a really long time,” he murmured quietly.
Steve tensed at Eddie’s words. Of course he hadn’t. Polos weren’t cool. Polos weren’t good enough for Eddie. It was why he was so confused at this gift. He didn’t understand why Eddie would buy him something that wasn’t metal. That wasn’t suitable for his boyfriend.
“I know that you’re experimenting with your style and all, and I won’t deny you’re hot as fuck in these,” Eddie grinned, moving to pinch the loose sleeve of Steve’s tee between his fingers. It was from some band he didn’t actually know before he’d bought the shirt, something called Leatherwolf, though he had bought their tape as well so that he could pretend to be a fan and know some of their songs. “But you look hot in your polos too. I miss them.”
Steve sat up straighter at that, his eyebrows flying up in surprise. Eddie…liked his polos? “Aren’t the polos…kind of lame?” he asked carefully.
Eddie snorted, smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to Steve’s neck, causing a startled smile to erupt over Steve’s own lips as he squirmed at the slight tickle of Eddie’s lips and hair. “There’s nothing lame about you, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, voice roughened with his tease. He pulled back though, a touch of his worry on his expression again. “Do you like it?”
Of course Steve liked it. He loved it. It was exactly the one he had been looking at before, even though he’d tried to hide it, which meant that Eddie really had noticed it and really had been waiting to buy it for him. With his first paycheck from Corroded Coffin’s first real paying gig.
There had been the fear that Eddie’s involvement with the band would limit their options, that no one would want to listen to a band that had a member who was suspected of grisly murders. Eddie had been prepared to step down, to let the others move on without him, had offered it even though Jeff and the others had vehemently opposed the idea. They’d said that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t exist without Eddie and if he wasn’t part of it then they didn’t want to do it anymore.
In a surprise twist that probably shouldn’t have been all that surprising, Eddie’s infamy had actually helped the band. The news of his believed guilt and then later innocence and injury from the actual killer that he had tried to stop had spread even beyond Hawkins, drawing a crowd for their nights performing at The Hideout who began to see more patrons than ever before.
Then they’d been invited to participate in a Battle of the Bands, which they hadn’t won but they’d placed second, and the random shows they’d throw themselves at the quarry or wherever else saw larger crowds than usual, even the one they threw to celebrate Gareth graduating, and they’d even been asked to play at the fair, though it was a free gig.
Then, most recently, someone had approached them after one of their shows and asked to hire them for an event in Indianapolis. A paying event in Indianapolis. With it was the promise of possible future paying gigs as their fanbase grew and spread. There was even talk of a possible scout being at the gig.
Dustin had joked that maybe ‘86 hadn’t been his year, but ‘88 could be, though Eddie had just grinned and denied it, saying that ‘86 had been his year after all. He hadn’t said why, but he gave Steve a secretive smile and reached out to tangle their fingers together.
Steve felt a flare of warmth beneath his skin as he stared down at the polo again, hesitating before giving a brief nod. Eddie’s previously nervous smile bloomed into a joyous one, and he leaned in quickly to plant a smacking kiss to Steve’s cheek. Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t prevent his own smile from growing on his lips.
“Thank you, baby,” Steve murmured, sliding a hand over Eddie’s neck to draw him in for a slow kiss. He didn’t know what it meant still, Eddie buying him a polo of all things, but it made him more determined than ever to be good enough for his boyfriend.
When they pulled back, Eddie soft with happiness, Steve made the decision. He needed to go all in if he was to keep Eddie happy. He drew in a deep breath and moved to take Eddie’s hand, his finger lightly tracing one of the scars there.
“I was thinking of growing out my hair. Maybe even dying it. Or maybe shaving i—”
“Don’t you dare!” Eddie interrupted, expression and tone absolutely scandalized as he squeezed Steve’s hand. Steve jumped slightly at the sudden explosion, blinking wide eyes at Eddie, causing the other to flush slightly in embarrassment. “I mean. You can, obviously, if you really want to, it’s your hair after all, but…” Eddie let out a small whine of protest as his gaze moved up to take in Steve’s hair.
Steve self-consciously reached up with his free hand to pass his fingers through his hair, which wasn’t quite as voluminous as he used to style it, but was still the last real testament of his former style. His former personality. The bullshit one.
“I mean,” Steve hedged, glancing away with a small roll of a shoulder in an aborted shrug. “It’s not exactly metal is it?” He looked back at Eddie with a slightly strained smile, rolling his eyes as though in commiseration. “I don’t want to embarrass you by making people think you have a prep for a boyfriend,” he laughed.
Eddie’s expression changed immediately as he stilled almost unnaturally, falling into a blank neutrality, even his eyes shuttering as he slowly pulled his hand from Steve’s grip. The response caused Steve to start panicking, worrying he’d messed up in some way, that he reminded Eddie of all the ways that he was lacking.
Steve opened his mouth to start apologizing, ready to apologize for anything, but Eddie held up his hand palm out to stop him, causing Steve’s mouth to shut with a soft click of teeth.
Eddie’s gaze dropped from Steve as his brows slowly began to furrow, a calculating expression settling over him as his eyes fell to the soft yellow polo still in the box. His lips twisted into a frown. After several excruciating moments, his eyes moved towards Steve’s shirt, an even more pinched look settling over his expression.
“Who are you wearing?” Eddie asked, his voice low and slow.
Steve glanced down at his shirt, the panic in him spiking, before realizing that this was a test. He had to prove to Eddie that he could like metal too (he didn’t, not really, though he could appreciate some of it) and wouldn’t be an embarrassment. He could do this.
“Leatherwolf,” he answered, thankful that he had done his job well enough to answer this pop quiz. He straightened his spine and pulled up the information he memorized with a slightly relieved smile. He could do this. “They’re from California. They were founded in, um, 1981.”
“What’s your favorite song of theirs?” Eddie asked, and there was something slightly off in his tone, but Steve couldn’t place it, not when he was frantically trying to recall the titles of the songs he’d made himself remember.
“Um. Cry Out?” he hesitantly asked more than answered, which caused Eddie’s lips to press into a thin line. He felt his breath catch at the obvious displeasure on Eddie’s face, wondering if he’d answered wrong. Was that a bad song? “O-or no, um, not that one. Uh. I like…um. I like…Magic Eye?” Fuck no, that wasn’t right. “Magical Eyes, I mean,” he corrected himself hastily.
Eddie’s eyes slowly dragged over Steve, his lips compressing again into a thin line as he drew in his own deep breath through flared nostrils. “Fuck,” he muttered, obviously not meant for Steve but it caused Steve to panic anyways as Eddie looked away, his brow furrowing in thought as his gaze settled on the newspaper on the table and the circled ads there.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, though he wasn’t certain what he had done wrong this time. Maybe Eddie didn’t like that band?
“Steve…” Eddie heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing his hand over his face before he looked over at Steve again. “I had thought you were just…trying things out. Experimenting. Lord knows your folks never let you be your own person,” he muttered before waving a hand as though to swat that thought away. “I didn’t realize you were actually trying to change.”
Why did Eddie sound so appalled by that? Wasn’t that a good thing? He was willing to fundamentally change who he was just for Eddie, to become someone deserving of Eddie, who fit in Eddie’s life. Didn’t Eddie want Steve in his life?
“Why are you upset about me changing?” Steve huffed, his worry turning into annoyance in his tone. “I thought that was a good thing. Not being the douchebag I used to be.” He scowled, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes to cover his unease.
Eddie just looked at him in that way that made it seem like he was seeing inside Steve, which normally Steve liked because no one ever actually saw him, but now it just made him uncomfortable. Like he had done something wrong. He was just trying to be a good boyfriend, however. Besides, it’s not like he had come up with the plan on his own.
Everyone always talked about how different he and Eddie were. Always pointed out how preppy he was, made fun of Eddie for falling for a jock, had even asked at the start when they first came out publicly to their friends who was blackmailing whom into the relationship. Steve knew he had to change. They were too fundamentally different. It was the only way to keep Eddie.
Except Eddie didn’t look like he was going to be kept. He had started slowly shaking his head, pulling back, his eyes skittering over Steve again but in a way that said he wasn’t liking what he was saying. Steve’s panic spiked again.
“Eddie. This is good. I’m willing to change for you, that’s how much I love you,” Steve breathed, reaching out to grab Eddie’s hand with desperation. “I listen to your music now, and I play Dungeons and Dragons, and I don’t even talk about basketball around you anymore. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Don’t you see? Isn’t that all that matters?”
Eddie’s lips turned down into a sharp frown. A shuddering breath left him before he all but yanked his hand from Steve’s, his dark eyes turning even darker as he pulled away from Steve and said those damning words:
“But I’m not happy, Steve.”
Steve felt all the air leave his lungs, felt all the blood first rush to his head and then drain out of him, felt his mouth and tongue and throat shrivel into dryness as his eyes widened in horror. Eddie was shaking his head, stumbling out of his chair and back, an unreadable expression on his face as he distanced himself from Steve and this revelation.
“This wasn’t what I wanted, Steve. This doesn’t make me happy.” Eddie’s took another step back when Steve stumbled from his own chair, putting the table between them. “I…I need to go. I need to think.”
Steve knew with certainty that if he let Eddie leave now, that this thing between them would never be the same. His heart clenched in his chest painfully, and he felt his eyes sting with encroaching tears. “Eddie, please…” he begged, his words cracking.
Eddie only shook his head, sending his hair arcing around him, before straightening his spine. “This isn’t you. I don’t want this to be you. I love you Steve, but this version of you? The one that I created—” This time it was Eddie’s voice that cracked.
Clearing his throat, Eddie backed away. “No. No, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m sorry, Steve, but I need to go. I need to think. I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”
And with that, Eddie spun on his heels and all but ran towards the door, escaping from Steve’s incompetence, his unworthiness, his undesirability while Steve could only stand there in frozen horror, the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer slowly dripping down his cheeks.
Because he knew. He knew this would happen. He knew that no matter what he did, he would never be good enough. He knew that Eddie would leave him one day. Knew that he would never be able to keep the one he loved.
Knew that he, like his love, would always be complete and utter bullshit.
-
Part 3
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tag list: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump
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spiritsdiary · 2 months
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— FIRST DATE with TYLER OWENS
wc: 788 | content: description of intense weather (??)
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you had made the mistake of issuing a challenge to tyler owens: “impress me.”
and tyler owens would be damned if he backed down from a challenge.
so he got you flowers and brought you along to thursday rodeos with his crew, and he must have talked to your mama too, because how else he could’ve figured out where to get your favorite pie was beyond you.
“nothing ever throws you off, does it?” you asked him the fifth time he showed up at your door, armed with a box of pie and that damn smile.
he had simply shrugged before reciting his stupid mantra at you. “if you feel it, chase it.”
he laughed when you shut the door in his face. you’d be lying if you said weren’t laughing yourself when you opened the box, grabbed a fork, and dug in, the dessert tasting a little sweeter than usual.
while it was nice, you’d grow bored of this routine eventually, and tyler seemed to know that, too. but he had an idea, and while it was stupid as all hell, he was willing to take his chances.
you barely pulled the door open when he spoke.
“i wanna take you out tonight.” well. that was new.
“it’s not thursday,” was all you could think to say in response.
“i know a spot,” he’d said, completely unfazed, with a cheeky wink and a tip of his hat, and really, you should’ve known what he meant.
because why wouldn’t you now find yourself in the passenger seat of tyler’s truck as he veers off the road directly towards a tornado?
“tyler owens, are you crazy?!” you exclaim, the only response being a bout of wild laughter as he throttles it even faster. “you better not be filming this!”
“you kiddin’?” he gestures to the cameras mounted above the windshield. “don’t worry, this’ll be just for us. we can look back on this in ten years and laugh.”
“if we live,” you mumble to yourself, glad of the wind, rain, and tyler’s blaring radio.
he looks at you for a moment, though, a flicker of concern in his eyes. “you ready?”
you don’t even have to think about your answer. “hell yeah, tornado wrangler.”
“‘s what i like to hear, baby,” he says, rolling to a stop in the middle of the field. “and now… we wait.”
“next time, just say you wanna drive me into a tornado.”
“next time?” he raises his eyebrows at you as he flips a few switches and anchors the truck.
“you’re insane,” you laugh, shaking your head.
“i’m startin’ to think that you like that about me,” he replies, nodding to the tornado only feet away as he makes sure your harness is secure. “better hold on to somethin’.”
you should be scared, but when you grab on to tyler’s hand, fueled by adrenaline and exhilaration, you just feel a sudden calm. like you belong here, with him, in his truck, getting hit head on by a tornado.
and maybe that’s why you let him kiss you.
the tornado swirls around the truck, the wind screaming so loudly you can barely hear his music, and you lean into him even though the harness digs into your shoulders. his kiss is gentle, respectful, and you can feel him smiling as you kiss him back, only pulling away to touch your forehead to his.
the winds of the tornado rock the truck, debris pelting the outside, but you’re too wrapped up in tyler to even care. you breathe him in until the sound of the storm begins to dissipate and the beating of your heart fades in your ears.
“you can open your eyes, sweetheart,” he whispers, watching as you lean back into your seat.
his voice spurs you into action, laughing as you undo your harness and jump out of the truck. he’s quick to follow you, smiling proudly as you let out a loud whoop.
“told you i knew a spot.”
“tyler owens…” you say his name again, slowly turning to look at him where he leans against his truck, arms folded across his chest.
“yeah?”
you could blame his tight jeans, or his backwards cap, or that damn smile of his for what you do next, but in the end you do it solely because you want to.
because you want him.
you run up to him, your hand bumping against the brim of his cap as you throw your arms around his neck, and kiss him, pressing him back against the hood.
and when his hands take hold of your hips, his mouth insistent against yours, you know that however you challenge him, he’ll always be crazy enough to impress you.
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good evening twisters/tyler owens nation, i am officially throwing my hat in the ring 🥰
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© qimirdiary 2024. do not repost without permission.
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writingouthere · 8 months
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neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!
cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression
Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.
"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.
"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.
"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.
"What's going on, you seem off today?"
You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.
"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.
Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.
"Why was the apartment so awful?"
You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"
"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."
"Creep, how?"
You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.
"It doesn't matter-
"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"
"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.
It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.
"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.
"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"
"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."
Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.
"What about Bug?"
"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."
This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.
"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"
"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"
You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.
-------------------------------------------
The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.
"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.
"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.
"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."
Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.
"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.
"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"
The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.
"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.
When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.
"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."
"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.
"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."
He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.
"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.
He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.
A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.
He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.
"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.
"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"
"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."
"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."
"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"
Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.
"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."
Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.
"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.
"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."
"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.
"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."
"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.
"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.
It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.
"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.
While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.
When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.
Like he would ever let you leave this.
also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.
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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
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✉️Divorce of Convenience
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you. 
Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later. 
There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header. 
Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised. 
“What’s got you all smiley?” 
You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap. 
“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”  
He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it. 
“And?” 
“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.” 
You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.
“What if we got a divorce?” 
Oh. 
Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?” 
You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.” 
Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?” 
He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?  
“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed. 
“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.” 
You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. 
“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.” 
He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.” 
You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life. 
“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.” 
“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.” 
He gave you a look. “I understand.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?” 
A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.” 
Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips. 
The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?” 
You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?” 
Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure. 
Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media. 
“So, how are we going to do this?” 
What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“We can’t tell Lando.” 
With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it. 
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The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment. 
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y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding
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y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩
ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON
landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??
charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law
maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them
piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭
y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early
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Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home. 
Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.
“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?” 
Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring. 
Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.” 
Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.” 
“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor. 
“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.” 
Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.” 
Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?” 
Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.” 
“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.” 
Shit. 
You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment. 
“Did Oscar cheat?” 
“What?” 
He gasped. “Did you cheat?” 
You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.” 
The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated. 
“Why did you two get a divorce?” 
The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate. 
You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?” 
They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off. 
Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?” 
The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?” 
You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet. 
You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door. 
He pressed a kiss against your cheek. 
“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you. 
You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm. 
“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile. 
“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.” 
Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong. 
He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors. 
Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?” 
You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.” 
Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?” 
Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.” 
Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?” 
“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.” 
“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.” 
No one said a word.
Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.” 
You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.” 
Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.” 
You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?” 
Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.” 
You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?” 
The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up. 
As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall. 
“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?” 
“Lando, get away from the pictures.” 
“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?” 
“You happened.” 
“Osc!” 
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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR
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freyito · 1 year
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ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ
this is another little drabble thing for all the men in mk1, since i thought it was another super cute idea and i have so many requests for the lin kuei trio! but barley any for any other characters!!! i think they all deserve the same love :D these are pretty much little snippets of like how they sleep, what they do before they go to bed with you, little late night excursions, and who wakes up first/how they wake up, stuff like that :) this one took a looooot out of me goddamn, but i love it and i hope u all enjoy it too!!!!
cw: gn reader, literally just fluff, shang tsung is a diiiiiiva, proofread
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-Liu Kang
Nights with Liu Kang are ethereal. When you're up to it, he's gonna take you to the most secluded place he can think of, where you can almost see the entire universe shining within the sky. He'll recount stories from the past to you, point out constellations,- even in the overcrowded sky- and even make up some, just for fun. Just because he's a god doesn't mean he won't make time for you. He actively seeks you out during the night, really.
Liu Kang doesn't move much in his sleep, either. He's got his arms around you, and his head pressed up against yours. It's the only way he can sleep well, he says. If you slip out of his arms somehow, he's awake almost immediately. It gives him peace of mind. He's also relatively warm, since he is the god of fire. So don't expect to be all covered up in blankets.
Liu Kang also refuses to leave until you are awake. He does not want to give the impression that he is abandoning you, he knows what its like to suddenly wake up alone. Quite frankly, you take precedence over godhood, and he doesn't mind waiting to start his day.
-Bi-Han
Bi-Han really enjoys nightly walks through the forest. He believes it's a great way to end the day and to wind down. The soft sounds of the wind running through the leaves, a streaming flowing in the distance, and no one but you and him. Sometimes, he'll just enjoy the silence, and other times he'll talk to you. Mundane things, stuff that even he seems to prideful to ask. But he'll ask about your day, and he'll want every little detail. Especially if you didn't get to spend your day with him.
Bi-Han also doesn't move at all in his sleep. He'll hold you every now and then, but he's more than content just sharing a bed with you. As said before, he almost has an aversion to touch. Sometimes he'll turn his back to you, but not because he's mad. It's simply a comfortable position. There are some times where he will wake up in the middle of the night and find himself wanting to hold you, so he will. He'll hold you close, almost as if he's afraid of loosing you.
Normally, Bi-Han wakes up first. Sometimes he'll be gone when you wake up, but he's soon to return. Other times, you wake up in his arms, while he's still sleeping. It's a game of chance to see who wakes up first, really.
-Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang will always wind down simply by laying in bed with you, your legs tangled amongst each other, his fingers caught up in your hair. He's so close to you, just mere centimeters from his lips, yet he does not close the distance. His eyes are transfixed on you, the silence full of love and passion and content. At the very last moment, when you get too impatient, he finally places his lips on yours. And you always melt into them, every single time.
Kuai Liang tends to move in his sleep a little, but not enough to wake you. Normally, you two will fall asleep spooning, but you'll wake up with him either pushed away from you, or somehow even closer. It's not voluntary, and when he finds himself away from you, he's a little heartbroken. But he'll make up for it, almost too quickly.
Kuai Liang will always wake up before you, he enjoys watching your sleeping face. He loves these small moments of vulnerability, it's something that matters deeply to him. To him, being able to fall asleep with someone isn't easy. He has to be comfortable being with you, and for you to be this vulnerable with him, it makes his heart skip a beat.
-Johnny Cage
Two words. Night drives. Johnny is and always will be down to take night drives with you. Around the city, somewhere in those smaller towns, or even on the country roads. Even if he complains that the country roads will fuck up his tires. He'll go anywhere you want, play any music you want, or none if you prefer Johnny's sweet, smooth voice. He'll always have his hand on your thigh, too. His hand won't wander, but he definitely enjoys your presence.
Johnny can't stay fucking still in his sleep, not for a second. Yeah, maybe he'll fall asleep with you in his arms, but when you wake up, he's sprawled out over the bed like Patrick fucking Star. You've lost track of how many times you've been kicked off the bed. All in love, though. He isn't doing it on purpose, he swears. Pinky swears. He'll get a bigger bed, soon! So you don't have to fight for your life to stay on it over the night!
You will always wake up before him, unless Johnny has a gig. He hates waking up in the morning, even if it's next to you. However, if you make an attempt to get out of bed while he's still asleep, he'll subconsciously grab onto you. He condemns you to an eternity in bed with him, as if it's your own personal hell. It isn't, but you always pout.
-Kenshi Takahashi
Like Kuai Liang, Kenshi prefers nothing more than settling down with you in bed. He enjoys the mood, having you rest your head on his bare chest, playing with your hair, running his hands down your back. Those quiet moments where you two just enjoy each others presence, finding peace within the chaos of the world. As ashamed as he is to be considered a (former) Yakuza, he does enjoy it when you trace his tattoos with your gentle hands.
While you fall asleep on Kenshi's chest more often then not, he's quite restless. He has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and seeking your comfort. And when you end up waking up with him, there are very quiet, tender moments. He'll call you his, runs his hands down your body all warm and tender, and kiss you passionately. If those moments don't end up with something else, simply sharing the intimacy and his feelings for you gets him to go back to sleep.
Surprisingly, you'll wake up before Kenshi does. Always. Perhaps it's the fact that he can never get a full nights sleep. But he likes waking up to you being there, he won't throw a fit like Johnny does if you get up without him, but it does sting a little for him. Though, he'll always find you in the house, and will always surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
-Kung Lao
To wind down, Kung Lao really enjoys just messing around. He's gonna chase you all around the house, slow dance with you from room to room, serenade you (horribly), and many more. He likes to make the time he spends with you as fun as possible, even if he's teasing you. By far, he loves carrying you around the house, telling you all sorts of stupid stories amidst telling you exactly how much he loves you.
Kung Lao tosses and turns quite a lot in his sleep. Yet, his arms will always find their way around your waist. Even if it's just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes, he has a habit of pushing you around the bed. He hates that he does, and he's tried to fix how restless his body is when he sleeps, but he just hasn't been able.
With that, Kung Lao always makes up for it in the morning. He's always going to wake up before you, always. Perhaps it's because of his life as a farmer, or maybe he just feels real guilty about his sleep habits. He refuses to let you leave the bed when you do wake up, he'll hold you real close by your waist and rest his forehead on yours. He'll stare in your eyes for what feels like forever, until he gives you a quick kiss on the lips and frees you.
-Raiden
Raiden enjoys just talking about your day before bed. To sit down, enjoy the sunset with each other, and talk about the mundane. Even if he's Earthrealm's protector, he really misses the mundane, the boring side of life. So to just hear about your day, even if all day was spent at home, is a great pleasure to him. And he'll tell you about his, too.
The man sleeps easy, Raiden doesn't have much troubling him in his sleep at all. He's perfectly still, although he does tend to lay on his back. He loves it when you cuddle up to him, even if you really only lay on his arm. He doesn't mind if he wakes up and it's numb, no, really.
Raiden is an early riser, and if you are too, then that's perfect. He also enjoys spending his mornings with you, in fact, he'll stay in bed til you wake up. He pretends he wakes up at the same time with you, just because it feels like a very special moment to him.
-Zeffeero
Zeffeero likes to use his magic to span out pretty little tricks for you. Laying down, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand lazily tracing your waist, as he spins out little spirals, forms stars, almost like shadow puppets. He'll argue that it's a waste of his talent, but you know he loves doing it for you. He loves that little sparkle of adoration in your eyes.
Zeffeero has a harder time going to sleep. He actually struggles a little with physical touch when he's trying to sleep, so more often then not, you two end up sleeping facing eachother. He'll cuddle you before bed, of course, but he just doesn't know why he has a problem with it when he's asleep. He's perfectly still, in his sleep though.
Because of this, you always wake up to Zeffeero playing with your hair, admiring your features, and even humming slightly to himself. That being said, it doesn't matter how early you wake up, he will always, always wake up first. It's almost like a challenge for you, but you don't relinquish the sweet sanctity of sleep.
-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves making the night magical, with what he can do. The amount of effort and thought he puts into every night to make it the perfect experience is almost scary. Anything you want, he'll do. However, he loves slow dancing with you in your room before you two fall asleep. Especially in the dark. It's a wonder how he doesn't bump into anything, guiding you along. During this, he loves to intertwine his fingers with yours, pulling you in real close by the small of your back, and peppering your face with kisses.
After you two end up falling onto the bed, Tomas keeps you close. He wraps you two up in the covers, and falls asleep relatively quickly. As peaceful as he seems during the day, at night he feels haunted by what would have been. Tomas has chronic nightmares, and he tends to wake up a lot in the middle of the night. If he wakes you up with them, he feels so guilty. He doesn't wake up suddenly, since he is used to this, but he does tend to twitch in his sleep.
It's a 50/50 chance with who will wake up first, if it's Tomas, he re-adjusts and pulls you in even closer. He hates waking up, he's the type to spend at least an hour in bed with you before properly waking up. If you wake up first, and leave the bed, he actively seeks you out in his tired state. Once he finds you, he drags you right back to bed.
-Baraka
Night walks are one of the greatest ways to end the day with Baraka. Anywhere, he'll always make the small trip worth it. Normally, you two walk in silence. It's not a bad thing, simply spending time with you reminds him how loved he is. But sometimes you'll find odd little things to talk about, tell stories, all of it.
Baraka prefers not to hold you, in fact he's afraid to even sleep in the same bed. He loves you, and it's because of that. He's worried about spreading Tarkat to you, so he'll keep his distance in bed. He wants so desperately to hold you, to bury his face in your neck and feel your warmth, but your life is not worth that. Because of this, he sleeps with his back to you.
Baraka wakes up before you. He sleeps lightly, and any little twitch wakes him up. Normally, he can never really get back to sleep. So he'll sit up in bed and wait on you to wake up. He thinks it's important for you to wake up to him, because with all the things he wants to do but can't, he at least wants you to know he'll always be there.
-Geras
Geras' favorite thing to do to wind down before you two go to bed is to read with you. Perhaps he is a construct of time and has no use for mortal literature, but he kind of finds it interesting. Whatever book you're reading, he wants to read, too. Having you sit on his lap, while you two read the same book, it makes him tired. Even though he really has no concept of being tired. You bring out a whole range of emotions that he never thought was possible from a construct.
If you don't fall asleep as-is in Geras' arms, he loves spooning. He really has no need for sleep, but he will gladly guide you off to sleep. He'll stroke your hair, place kisses on the back of your shoulders, and whisper all sorts of sweet nothings. And once you're asleep, he goes right back to watching over the timeline. He'd love to sleep with you, but it is really only something he can fake.
By the time you're awake, Geras is right back in bed with you. He'd hate to have you wake up alone, so he always takes an hour or so out of his tireless watch to be with you in the morning. He'll wake you up gently, make you some tea, and hold you close for a couple minutes, before kissing you and sending you off on your day.
-Syzoth
By far, Syzoth is probably the most cuddly. He enjoys watching some of Johnny's horrid movies before bed,- but only the nice ones- while he's all wrapped around you. He's got his legs tangled up with yours, holding you close to his chest, and kissing the crown of your head. He actually refuses to have you leave his arms- unless you really need it or are uncomfortable- because keeping you close is the only thing that really sends him to sleep.
You'll fall asleep like that, too. You have an effect on Syzoth, he just feels so happy and safe with you that he'll fall asleep halfway through the movie. While he tends to wake up every now and then, he doesn't move a damn muscle in his sleep. Not a one. Sometimes, he'll squeeze you just a little tighter when he wakes up. To remind himself that you're there.
You end up waking up before Syzoth does, and it's a struggle to get out of his hold. But, by then, he's awake too. He'll let you escape, but when you get out of bed, he insists on pulling you back to bed with him. For at least 20 more minutes. And then, he'll follow you around as you brush your teeth, shower, etc. He's especially clingy in the morning.
-Havik
As mentioned in my love languages post, Havik loves naps. So normally, you find yourself laying on his chest, while he tries to fall asleep for the third time today. He believes being able to fall asleep with someone is the ultimate vulnerability, so having you there makes him feel stronger. As long as some part of you is touching him while he drifts off, he's happy. And if you even stray from him, he's pulling you back in, all grumpy.
Havik has trouble sleeping properly, despite his favorite pastime. He finds himself waking up quite often, and he has some rather visceral reactions. He tends to wake you up, too. But he's always apologetic. He'll pull you in closer, loosing himself in your eyes. Only then do you two end up falling back asleep. Sometimes, it repeats a couple times through the night, but there are some nights where he sleeps peacefully.
You will always wake up before Havik does. But he's still very aware of his surroundings, so if you try and leave the bed before he's even semi-conscious, he's going to pout and pull you back in once more. He'll hide his face in your neck, muttering "mine", until he's fully awake and ready to start the day.
-General Shao
Shao is a fucking CUDDLEBUG. Despite his big and mean demeanor, he loves showing you around the city before bed. Even if you've seen it a thousand times before, he loves the palace at night. He's got his hand on your waist, in the moments he knows you two are alone. And when you two get back home, he's carrying you to bed. He refuses to let you walk. You're his, and he's going to treat you like royalty. He'll make sure you're all snug and comfortable under the sheets, then get underneath them with you.
When Shao is still in his sleep, he's got one arm around you and your head pressed up against his chest. For someone with a life like his, he sleeps peacefully, though he does sleep light. Any little sound that isn't just you shifting in bed, or the house settling has him awake and fully alert. I'd be lying if I said he didn't have a couple knives ready. Not that he needs them. He'll slink out of bed and scout out the whole house to make sure nothings amiss. And once he's sure that no ones here to try and hurt him or you, he'll get back in bed. When you ask what happened, he'll saying "Nothing" in this tired and grumpy voice.
Waking up in the bed alone is a common occurrence. Shao's a general, so he has to be up bright and early, no matter how long you two stayed up til. He regrets that he can't spend time in the morning with you, but sometimes you'll find him getting ready, and that's quite enough for him.
-Shang Tsung
Wherever you two are, Shang Tsung enjoys taking you out on a "romantic" night, walking and talking, a little slow dancing here and there, and really just showing you off to the complete strangers of the night. He'll even steal some passionate kisses under the moon, just to top off the night. And when you return home, he's whining that he's too tired and will just drag you right to bed.
Shang Tsung loves to be held in bed, yeah he'll hold you too, but you have to be the big spoon. Have to. He's a diva like that. And if you so much as accidentally move in his sleep, he's going to pout and whine in the morning that you didn't hold him. But he sleeps rather soundly, aside from that. In fact, he's a pretty heavy sleeper.
You are the first to wake up, and Shang Tsung will wake up only a second after. You know, to whine that you aren't holding him close enough. After that, though, he refuses to leave bed. Begging you to stay, almost desperately. Especially in the morning, he seeks your comfort. He wants to hold you, whisper all sorts of things to you, all to ease his mind.
-Reiko
Reiko is the only one who thinks the very, very best way to end the day is sparring. He's going to tackle you in bed, and while you writhe and try to break free of his touch, he's going to pepper your face with kisses and make his way from your bottom lip, to your chin, to your neck, only to pick you up and fake throwing you back down. Yeah, it wakes you up more than it tires you out, but after a couple minutes, he'll give up and lay down on the bed with you. Out of breath. He puts way too much effort into play fighting with you, really.
Those moments are the very rare moments you get to see Reiko drop his serious, war-ridden face. After all that, he'll roll over to his side and lay his arm over you. He won't full-on cuddle you at night, he finds it harder to sleep like that. But he makes sure he's touching you in some way. However, he has a hard time sleeping peacefully. He's haunted, and he tends to wake up at least twice a night. He doesn't have a big reaction, it's more like he's flinch a bit and wake up. It's something that will never wake you up, but he will always take a minute to hover over you when he does wake up.
Like Shao, Reiko always wakes up first. But he'll wake you up with him. All gentle like, he won't shake you or anything. He wants to make sure he gets at least a few words and waking moments with you before he starts his day. And before he leaves, he always pulls you in for a soft kiss, one full of yearning and adoration. That's something he will never forget to do.
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