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#but these bitches NEW and FRESH and i adore them
sweets3rial · 2 months
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morning bliss
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inspired by this request
summary: leon whispers sweet nothings into your ear as you sleep cuddled up into his chest
tags: pure fluff, mentions of smut, cuddles, sweet nothings, body/feature praises, etc.
word count: 1k
skin against skin, heavy breaths, the smell of fresh laundry, and mixed scents of vanilla and musk. a groan left his lips as he stretched out his limbs but he quickly became aware of the sleeping figure next to him. he didn’t even need to look beside him, a smile crept onto his face. 
he opened his eyes, rubbing at the crust in his inner corners and letting his mouth fall open into a yawn. beside him is your naked figure, curled up into his chest with your sweaty cheek pressed to the apex of his shoulder. the blankets were just below your ribs, showing off your plump chest along with the multiple purple bruises that littered your skin. 
remnants of last night evident on your smooth skin. your squished cheeks forced your plump lips apart, small breaths coming in and exiting in quiet snores. he stroked at your frizzy hair, stuck to your skin and his, smoothing it away from your face to get a better view of your face. 
bare face — no makeup, dried-up drool at the corner of your mouth, and puffy eyes. 
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered to your unconscious self. he couldn’t help but chuckle, who knew you could make him so soft? who knew he could adore someone as much as he does you? he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger for a second. 
“you’re so peaceful when you’re asleep,” it was odd when you were quiet. he knew it meant you were either upset or tired. when you were upset you gave short answers and avoided his questions — and him. when you were sad you did the same, except you’d instantly find the comfort of his arms and fall asleep. 
other than that, you ran your mouth to him 24/7. about work, about school, about the annoying bitch in your English class, about your family — anything. it’s when you were quiet that he could truly admire you. your relaxed expression, the curl of your lashes, and the curves of your body. 
“god, you’re gorgeous. truly,” he sighed, rubbing at your earlobe with his two fingers, “i love your cheeks,” he poked at your squishy cheeks, freezing up when your eyes twitched. “i like your eyes, even when they’re closed, they’re pretty,” 
he pressed his thumb into your lips, “i love your lips, i especially love to kiss them,” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “they taste like cherry,” 
he twirled his finger through the coils and strands of your hair, “i like your hair, when you try new styles it turns me on,” 
when your hair is pulled back and he can see your face in full, he can’t help the animalistic instinct that surges through him. even when it’s down, all he can do is imagine it sprawled out in the sheets of his bed or tangled between his fingers. 
his eyes ventured down to your bare chest, memories of last night playing in his head. you sprawled out for him, clawing at his back and down his arms as you moaned out his name over and over. 
“god, you’re turning me on now,” he reached behind you, trailing his hand up and down your lower back, then down the curve of your ass. he gave it a small squeeze, loving the way the fat spilled through his fingers. 
"i don't know why you hate on yourself so much," he frowned, "i've never seen anyone more perfect than you,"
you groaned in your sleep, pressing yourself closer to him with your face now completely buried into his muscle. “are you waking up?” he whispered into your ear. no response. 
“wake up, baby, i want to see you and your beautiful face,” 
the venture of his hands not only woke you up but it was turning you on. the feeling of his hot breath whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his muscles rippling against your torso with each stir he took. you hid your flushing face in his chest, avoiding his eyes but also the bright sun. you wanted to sleep some more but he was just too … distracting. 
he groaned out your name, tickling your neck with the tip of his cold nose. 
“let me sleep, Leon,” you whined, pushing his face away from the crook of your neck and simultaneously pulling the covers over your exposed chest. 
“no, get up,” his tone suddenly cold, opposite of his antics earlier. “you promised to wake up early and spend the day with me,”
you huffed, balling the covers underneath your chin and turning away from him. “that’s before you wore me out,”
“what? you were the one begging for it,” 
“i hate you,” 
“you love me,” he rebutted. 
“kiss my ass,” you scoffed. 
“gladly,” you could feel him moving behind you but you were too busy grumbling to yourself to pay him any mind. suddenly, his large hands were now placed on your hips and you could feel his warm lips place a wet kiss on the center of your ass cheek. 
you shivered, thrusting your hips forward and away from him. 
“stop!” you chuckled but he continued to place kisses all over your butt, “Leon! that tickles,” you swatted at his back, kicking and writing underneath the covers. you could feel him laugh against one of your cheeks before he placed his lips against your skin again, blowing a raspberry. 
“you’re so gross,” you grumbled, kicking him away from you with your heel. he peeked up from under the covers as you rolled onto your back, he placed his chin on your abdomen — looking up at you with those baby-blue eyes. 
“you love it,” 
you were awake from the moment he stretched out his arms and legs, you were usually a heavy sleeper but your body was so desperate to be awake the moment Leon was. you wanted to peel your eyes open at the same time he did and you wanted to stretch at the same time he did. 
you heard everything he said, and it took every muscle in your body not to crack a smile or open your eyes to meet his. just like he loved every part of you, you loved every part of him. inside and out. this little bully was yours and you were his. 
“yeah, i do,” 
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(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)
notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)
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a/n: i'm so sorry that i completely dipped after dropping part 2 to the tutor fics :,). haven't really found the strength or the will to write until i checked my inbox and ... holy shit. i will get to all your requests do not worry!! but i hope you guys enjoy this for now :D!
tags :
@xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk
@childchomper1 @porcelainseashore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00
@daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl
@altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine
@its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud
@beafart @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie
@bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog @zizouu23
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Rambling thoughts of various Yuri manga I’ve read
1. Kase-San and Yamada (Morning Glories sequel series) by Hiromi Takashima
notice how Kase’s name is first, which is representative of her being the main one to cause problems in their relationship
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If you asked me what my favorite yuri manga was like 2-3 years ago, I’d say Morning Glories and Kase San everytime. Every avid yuri fan has either read or watched Morning Glories because, at the time in 2010, it was groundbreaking, and I stand by the fact that the original series still holds up to this day. It was cute, sweet, wholesome and only had a few obligatory “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” moments. Most of all it wasn’t a pseudo-incest-straight-male-porn-pandering-garbage-fest—also known as “Citrus”. Was it cliche at times? Yes, but they all are lol. Did they add to the dumb ass “blonde femme and dark hair masc” trope? Also yes. But it was adorable and it was my first ever yuri so it holds a special place in my heart.
And it SEEMED like it was only going to get better in Kase San and Yamada, the sequel. The girls would be heading to college and the story could theoretically focus on more mature topics while they navigate their new relationship. Keyword: theoretically. Unfortunately, instead of exploring interesting relationship dynamics and storylines, the plot of each story arc boils down to: Kase is insecure because a man breathed next to Yamada or Kase is being completely insensitive to Yamada’s feelings…again…—> ✨miscommunication drama ✨—>big over dramatic apology scene—>boring makeup sex or other romantic gesture.
Literally that’s how every single plotline goes. Kase is so goddamn dumb and insensitive to Yamada’s feelings and Yamada’s a complete doormat who can only stay mad for 0.2 seconds before getting pussy whipped like a spineless ass bitch. And for all that Yamada sacrifices for Kase; her hometown, her dreams, her apartment, what does she get in return from Kase? Oh that’s right; bare minimum romantic gestures and a neglectful partner who can’t even call her “girlfriend” in front of others:
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Like I thought we were over this shit. It’s been THREE years of them together, a whole anime production, and god knows how many irl years and we’re going back to “we love each other but we’re giRLs😳😳😳” WHY???
And then Kase later goes onto bet her entire three year relationship over the ugly bitch in the next panel, so now I’m questioning whether or not Kase even loves Yamada with the amount of bullshit she’s put her through. Which COULD be an interesting plot point, but Kase never gets any consequences for her actions and the creator genuinely thinks this is romantic and full of tension so I’m 10000% positive that this arc, just like all the others, will end with some makeup sex and we’ll be right back to step 1. Sigh.
2. Tamen De Gushi by Tan Jiu
Tamen De Gushi’s problems are interesting but it’s NOT because of the Chinese government💀
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So today’s dark haired masc and blonde femme of the day are Sun Jing and Qiu Tong, respectively. Their personalities aren’t anything to write home about, if you read ANY high school yuri romance, then you know exactly what happens in this story beat for beat. But, BUT, however derivative it is, I find their dynamic very endearing and down to earth. Idk maybe it’s just the translation, but other yuri stories often have this very inauthentic “anime” vibe to it. Which is to say the characters act very cutesy, overly dramatic, and have this stilted, caricature-esque acting of how the creator thinks teenage girls are supposed act.
However, I’m happy to report that Tamen De Gushi is a breath of fresh air in this regard. The characters and interactions they have are grounded and feel organic, which makes them feel like real people, not aliens pretending to be human. This really elevates the humor in turn, oh did I mention that Tamen De Gushi is super funny? Because Tamen De Gushi is super funny, here’s one of my favorite panels and it’s all because of Sun Jing’s goofy ahh expression:
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Like go girl give us nothing
If you’re wondering why I haven’t spoke much about the actual romantic relationship between the girls, that’s because there isn’t one💀 Which, okay, that’s not a fair assessment, they have a ton of romantic tension and they flirt a lot. It’s certainly building to a great romantic relationship, but it can’t quite get there due to legal/political reasons sadly. 😔
Edit: I received new information in regards to what happened to Tamen De Gushi. While I reached my limit for posting pictures, I want to point out that the Chinese government had nothing to do with Tamen De Gushi getting censored, rather it was a dispute between the author and the publishing company. The prior information I received was false and I prob should’ve looked it up more so sorrrry. The fact still remains though that after their big lesbian kiss towards the middle of the story and maybe a few other moments, that’s just kind of it. You’re stuck waiting for something to develop, but nothing really happens. The comic very quickly becomes a collection of slice of life segments and cute pictures that imply a relationship between the girls, but not really ;) ;).  Now things are just kind of left in purgatory for the foreseeable future and, well, that’s Tamen De Gushi y’all.
Compared to Kase San and Yamada, the characters were much better, which is not saying much, but without an actual romantic storyline, there’s just not a lot for me to comment on to be honest. It’s really pretty though, look at this art :
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3. Beauty and the Beast Girl by Neji
my personal favorite and the BEST yuri I ever read
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So next on the list is Beauty and the Beast Girl (I’m going to abbreviate to BatBG from here on) , which I already spoiled my feelings on the matter so this will basically be me gushing about this story for several paragraphs straight, enjoy.
Contrary to what the title suggests, it really has nothing to do with Beauty and the Beast’s story except in name. The main girls are Lily Blind, who is actually fucking blind 💀 and Heath the monster girl. Already I’m happy because instead of blonde femme and dark hair butch, it’s blonde femme and of-course-you-have-purple-hair-and-pronouns masc. Lol, all jokes aside, Lily, unlike her blonde femme counterparts is quite assertive and voices her opinions all the time. In fact, she’s the one who pushes Heath to be more open and communicate with her rather than the other way around. This is, in part, due to the story BatBG is trying to tell. I say BatBG is in name only to Beauty and the Beast because Lily isn’t trying to find the “beauty” within Heath or learning to love a beast or whatever, she’s fine just the way she is and her love for Heath is unconditional. Plus the only thing beastly about Heath is her appearance…which I’ll harp on later, but her behavior is in no way different from a regular human except in very rare, specific moments.
At its heart, BatBG is a story about forgiveness (the creator literally says as much) , but it’s also about the cycle of violence that results from being outcasted and deprived of love. BatBG is set in a world of humans and monsters, where the monsters are outcasted and either have to stay away from human society like Heath or assimilate themselves by hiding away their monster like traits, which is a really queer narrative on top of an already queer story. I don’t want to go into too much spoilers, but sometime before the beginning of the story, Heath in-directly hurts Lily before they ever meet. However, it’s not about Lily needing to forgive Heath, or trying to get over the pain she inflicted upon her, rather its Heath learning to forgive herself and in effect, learning to love herself as much as Lily loves her.
Another big aspect of BatBG is disabilities, Lily Blind is in fact Blind lol and while there are times she struggles with her blindness, she never views her disability as something she needs to be ashamed of and never, ever, blames Heath for it or holds it against her unlike what many, many, many, many other stories end up doing. Her blindness isn’t treated like a super power either, it’s a legitimate disability. She just accepts that it’s a part of her and goes onto say that if not for her blindness, she would’ve never met the love of her life, which I found to be an incredibly profound thing to say.
Now that I’ve gotten this far, I suppose I can add a bit of a disclaimer. So BatBG is waaaaay more explicit about the physical affection between the girls than in any of the previous stories I talked about. Heath and Lily are constantly kissing on, hugging, and almost always flirting with each other, and make no mistake, these girls do be fucking. The sex scenes are never perverted or gross, but genuinely super sweet and romantic, which makes it way hotter imo (huh imagine that🤔). And aside from being hot, it also serves a purpose! Lily’s pretty damn horny underneath all her nice girl antics and while it’s not a major part of her character, it does give a slight edge to her personality and, most importantly, balances out the dynamic between Heath and Lily. It would’ve been very easy to fall into that boring trope where Heath is aggressively horny and Lily is the submissive blind girl, but by making Lily be the one to initiate the sexual encounters, it not only compliments Heath’s more reserved nature, but breaks the stereotype that people with disabilities are pure precious being who couldn’t possibly have sex, which is ableist af btw. Many people think the existence of any sex scenes at all is superfluous, but in BatBG, it truly elevates the story, the characters, and the romance in ways that wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying without it.
Now, with as much praise I gave BatBG, there is one criticism I have, but it’s a quibble really, and it can be explained in a single image:
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There is a dissonance between the story and the art, the story says: “Heath is a big, ugly scary monster”
The art says:
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And like yes, it can be argued that Heath is simply regurgitating the things bigoted people have said to her, but at no point in the story is this ever challenged or brought up in any meaningful way. Lily is blind so she doesn’t know what the hell she looks like and the other characters aren’t any help either. It’s not a big deal or anything, it just would’ve elevated the story if Heath was actually kinda ugly/more monstrous and not incredibly beautiful because right now it’s giving skinny girl who calls herself fat all the time, and it’s like, babe, who tf are you fooling? 😭
Other than that, BatBG is incredibly profound despite its premise being so deceptively simple and I love it to pieces so …yeah! READ IT.
4. Superwomen in Love! Honey Trap and Rapid Rabbit by sometime
Well, at least there are no blondes
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So imma just abbreviate to SiL btw
Alright, let’s get started. The premise is that a villainess falls for the super hero girl and then that plotline is dropped in about 16 pages. I’m not even joking, the villainess falls for the hero, loses her job as a villain and then joins the hero all in one chapter. The REAL plot is actually about a council of evil alien-humans who want to destroy humanity because of generic super villain reason #434: the leader of the aliens is sad and misunderstood :( I’m not even going to lie, I had 0 interest in “X” (the generic ass name of the main villain) and her band of useless lesbians. They did literally nothing in the story except be a nuisance and contribute to X’s incel breakdown at the end. Their inclusion actively made SiL worse because the story has this weird tonal problem where in one breath the villains are portrayed as complete jokes and then you turn the page and now they’re shooting children like girl what💀 And these useless lesbians hog sooooo much of SiL that desperately needed to be given to Honey trap and Hayate to develop their relationship.
When the story DOES actually focus on Honey Trap and Hayate, it’s pretty good, even cute at times, there just wasn’t enough time given to them to flesh their relationship out. As it stands, Honey Trap and Hayate don’t have much of a dynamic, or personality for that matter. Honey Trap’s main gimmick is that she’s extremely horny for Hayate and delulu:
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Aside from that, she’s a great value version of Heath, but even a watered down character is better than, like, nothing. All I really know about Hayate is that she’s nice, heroic, likes wearing tacky clothes and ….that’s it. She loves Honey Trap because…………they fought together a few times so why not🤷‍♀️ I’d say at least that’s better than Tamen De Gushi, but actually it’s not because these grown ass women don’t even kiss , all we get is a love confession and their gremlin love child and that’s supposed to be satisfying I guess.
And the worst part is that SiL has the audacity to pretend the romance was something that it clearly wasn’t:
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Girl…yall were “””enemies””” for 10 panels.
Now, it’s stated they have been rivals for a while, but I guess Honey Trap forgot all of that because the moment she sees Hayate’s face, my good sis is pussy whipped for life. And that’s in spite of apparently being the evilest one out of the evil group because Honey Trap has no grudge or baggage toward Hayate. She immediately turns good with no issues and Hayate is only distrustful of Honey Trap for 1 or 2 speech bubbles and then she’s not. Anything else that happened was off screen, which means it didn’t happen. Ironically, the very next entry on this list will do a MUCH better job at an ex-villain love story, but for SiL, there’s just not much going on.
Another reading of this story is to call it a “parody” but…no, it isn’t. SiL isn’t a comedy, yes there are comedic moments that poke fun of the genre, but the rest of the story genuinely wants you to take it seriously. Except it can’t. X and her league of dimwits are boring as piss and they oscillate between Saturday morning cartoon villains and child murderers seemingly on a whim. So I can neither be endeared to them nor take them as a serious threat. Honey Trap and Hayate are there, but I lament on all the potential lost from what could’ve been an amazing relationship.
5. Yamujiburo/Kianamaiart’s Hanamusa webcomic
This one is kind of cheating, but I also don’t care let me talk about hot MILFs💀
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So the final entry on this list is a webcomic series by one of my fave artist: kianamaiart! And it’s right here on tumblr so check it out!
I stumbled upon this webcomic a few weeks ago, fell in love and now I want to talk about it. This yuri pair thankfully has no blonde femme in sight and instead features two popular Pokémon characters: Jessie from Team Rocket and Delia Ketchum, Ash Ketchum’s mom. What I love about this ship and the world Kiana creates around them is that it’s a very unconventional pairing. There’s just not many romances where a single mom falls in love with an ex gang member and the best part is, Delia being a mom is a big part of her character and she doesn’t ignore Ash in favor of her new relationship with Jessie. She has time for both and doesn’t prioritize one over the other, which many ppl fail to do even irl so good on you Delia!
Now, as for the romance it self, Jessie and Delia are a unique pair. Jessie’s overconfident, brash, drama queen personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “dominant” role and Delia’s sweet, motherly personality doesn’t automatically put her in the “submissive” role. Their dynamic in the webcomic actually plays out in the reverse, Jessie is the one who gets easily flustered and Delia’s…intense, to say the least:
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(But Tbf if Delia looked at me like that I’d be at her beck and call too💀)
This subversion of these tropes creates a fun dynamic for the couple and it’s super adorable to see how their energies bounce off each other in each new situation Kiana puts them in. I also love how both Jessie and Delia inspire each other to live out their dreams and they become better versions of themselves by being together.
And one last thing, I don’t have any smart commentary to go along with this, I just really like this drawing of Jessie:
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no thoughts, head empty
Final Thoughts
Soooo yeah, that’s the end of my dissertation on yuri comics. I know I ended up dragging a lot of popular yuri, but it wasn’t my intention to make you guys hate any of things I talked about. These were just my thoughts as an avid yuri fan, so let me know your thoughts as well, especially if you read any of the yuri I talked about. And even though I’m super picky about the type of yuri I read, I’d still love to hear any recommendations. Who knows, it might dethrone the undefeated champ that is Beauty and the Beast Girl.
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realisticfanfictions · 9 months
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Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.
Sanji x Waitress!Reader
Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.
Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.
A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)
Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!
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"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.
"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.
You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"
He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.
"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"
He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"
"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.
"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.
Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"
Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."
Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"
"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"
You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.
"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"
You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.
"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.
"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"
You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.
You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.
He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.
"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.
His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.
You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."
"Till?"
"Four."
"Shit."
"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."
He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."
"Till?"
"Six."
"Shit."
"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.
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You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.
"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."
He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."
"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"
"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."
Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"
"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.
Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."
As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.
He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."
"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.
Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"
"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."
His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"
You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."
You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.
"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.
Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"
You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"
The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"
"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"
"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.
You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.
A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.
"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.
You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"
He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."
Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"
"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."
That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."
His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."
A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.
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"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.
The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"
A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.
"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"
You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"
Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."
You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.
An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"
She blinked. "I think so?"
You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"
"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.
"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.
With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"
She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"
You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."
The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"
That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."
"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.
You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.
Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ith��rzburger Stein. On the house."
The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"
"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.
The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.
You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.
After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.
The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.
"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"
"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.
And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."
"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.
You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."
That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.
"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"
The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"
The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"
"And a milk!"
You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"
"Water."
"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"
You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.
Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."
"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.
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AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)
I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-
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wannabeschyulersister · 6 months
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but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day
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“Who’s bright idea was it for us to have the party at our place?” You asked as you took a good look at the mess that was surrounding you.
“Richie. He somehow got out of hosting this year.”
“What a dick.” You joked. Well, kinda.
The staff of The Bear were known to party hard. It was evident by the state of your apartment. Everyone was excited to let loose and ring in the new year together. It had been a hectic couple of months to say the least.
New Year’s was one of your favorite holidays. It was a fresh start to new beginnings. It was also your third new year with Carmen.
“Where should we get started?”
Carmen wrapped his arms around you, “We should just go back to bed.”
“I would love to go back to bed but I can’t in good conscience knowing that we have a wreck here.” You told him as he kissed your cheek.
He groaned playfully and gave you a small squeeze, “I know. I forget that you’re a clean freak.”
“The faster we do this, the quicker we can get back in bed, Berzatto.”
“And what exactly would we do once we’re back in bed?”
“Well, I was thinking….”You leaned in closer and lightly grazed your lips against his. Just as he moved to seal the deal, you tilted your head back, “We can finally start that rewatch of Gilmore Girls.”
Carmen groaned and laughed, “That’s not what I was thinkin’ we should do.”
“Trust me, I know. You gotta get your mind out of the gutter,” you smiled, “Let’s have a game plan. Start in the living room and then finish in the kitchen.”
Carmen grabbed two garbage bags and handed you one. The both of you began picking up trash scattered around the room. You grabbed an empty champagne bottle and placed it in your bag.
“I loved the idea of people taking photos with the Polaroid this year. I’m sure we got some great shots.” You grabbed the stack that was on the floor.
Carmen moved closer to see the photos, “Is that someone’s ass?”
You chuckled, “That’s Richie’s.”
Carmen looked at you puzzled, “How the hell are you able to tell that his bare ass?”
“You can see the scar where Syd stabbed him.” You pointed out.
“Ah, yeah. Still creepy that you knew instantly.” Carmen laughed.
“Trust me, I hate that I knew it instantly too.” You glanced at the rest of the photos that were in the stack. One of Carmen and yourself caught your eye. Tina snapped the photo of the two of you candidly.
It had been close to midnight and Carmen didn’t want to let you out of his grasp before the countdown began. He wanted to savor the last moments of the year with you before ringing in the new one.
“I think we should put this one on the fridge.” You handed the picture to Carmen and it made him smile.
“Yeah, I like this one.”
“I’m glad that everyone felt comfortable here to let loose. Seeing everyone have a fun night after these last few stressful months was really nice.” You said as you grabbed the broom to sweep up some confetti. The glitter on the floor would be a bitch to clean.
“We have some more stressful months coming up,” Carmen added softly, “I hope everyone will be alright at the end of it.”
You knew he was mostly implying himself. The first year of a new restaurant opening was definitely one of the hardest. Trying to stand out from the hundreds and hundreds of already existing establishments was difficult.
Carmen put the stress of the world on his shoulders. You watched and held his hand through it all. There was nowhere else you’d rather be.
“Everyone is in a completely different place than they were when I first met them. I think you guys will be amazing and The Bear is going to be an absolute success.” You kissed his cheek and it made them a little rosy. He was so adorable when he blushed.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do. I mean look who’s running the place. You and Syd. That’s a dream team if I’ve ever seen one.”
“You’re just gassin’ me up.” Carmen was never good at receiving compliments. That didn’t stop you from giving him dozens of them a day.
“No, I’m not. I’m telling you the truth,” you placed a hand on his chest near his heart, “I’m going to be right beside you through the good and the bad.”
Carmen placed his hand on yours. He didn’t outright say that he needed the reassurance but he was so thankful to get it. It was like you could read his mind.
He would often jump the gun and worry about things prematurely. You were the one to try and keep him grounded in the moment.
“I’m so lucky to have you.” He said softly before kissing you.
“Ditto, Berzatto. You’re stuck with me for life. I don’t ever want to not know you.”
“If I have it my way, you don’t ever have to worry about that happening.”
“Pinky promise?” You held your hand out with your pinky ready to lock with his.
“It’s a promise.”
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billybob598 · 9 months
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Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)
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IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE
Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.
Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)
Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.
 It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.
4 months ago
After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right. 
“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly. 
“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.
“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”
“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it. 
“Herston, have you ever been?” 
“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are. 
“I’m Kyra by the way.”  She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.
“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” 
“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there. 
2 months ago
You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh. 
A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.” 
“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing. 
“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,
“You like her? Like, like like her?”
You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?” 
Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes. 
“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”. 
“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds. 
Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.
“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,
“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics. 
“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”
“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced. 
“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”
“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.
“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes. 
“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,
“Whatever. You guys suck.”
2 weeks ago
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality. 
“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.
 You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.
You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.
“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing. 
“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.” 
“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.
“Who?”
She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”
“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.
“Only one way to find out.” 
Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist. 
“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds. 
“So?” Kyra prompts softly.
“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug. 
“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.
Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself. 
An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow. 
“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.
“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.
“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”
“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes. 
“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed. 
“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.” 
Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.
“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?” 
“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year. 
After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well. 
Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?” 
You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?” 
“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes. 
She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.” 
“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction. 
“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby. 
Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?” 
“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.
After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy. 
“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you. 
“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean. 
“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?” 
Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer. 
Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.” 
Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.” 
You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely. 
In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah. 
“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her. 
“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore. 
Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you. 
“What a fucking legend!”
“Banger! Absoloute banger!”
“Mate, you’re actually insane.”
“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”
Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.
“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.
Present Day
The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London. 
Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”
Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously. 
“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom. 
Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.
“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure. 
“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.
“Wait, did you just say you love me?”
You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers, 
“Y/N?”
WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses. 
“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.
“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.
“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”
Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly. 
“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.
“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response. 
“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest. 
“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss. 
“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.
“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”
“Asshole.”
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wynnyfryd · 10 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 32
part 1 | part 31 | ao3
cw: explicit sexual content, smoking
"Holy shit," Steve gasps as he shudders through aftershocks. Holy shit. Holy shit. He's never coming alone again; wonders if he could get away with asking Eddie to record some sort of audio for future use, because- because fuck.
Eddie's incredible. Made him tease himself for what felt like hours — featherlight caresses over his stomach, his hips, his thighs — and when he finally let him come, Steve nearly fucking died. Supernovas in his vision, trumpeting angels in his ears. Alpha and Omega; the beginning and the end type of shit. His heart went all off rhythm, and his entire body shook, and that melted honey feeling crystalized inside his chest; a sugar cube embedded in the center of his heart.
"Holy shit," Eddie echoes on the tail of a breathless laugh. He looks just as fucked out as Steve feels, flushed and fucking gorgeous, and Steve hears him shuffling around behind him; tucking himself back into his shorts, taking off his ruined shirt. He wipes his sticky hands on the fabric then moves to clean Steve up, using his t-shirt as a rag; dragging it over Steve's stomach, his pubes.
Steve giggles. "That tickles!"
"You're welcome," Eddie grins. He tosses the shirt onto the floor, and Steve moves to take his off.
"Here," he offers, "take mine." The thing's rucked up under his armpits, probably a little gross from sweat, but he doesn't want Eddie to be cold, and he especially doesn't want him to get up to find a new one. Feels like he might evaporate if Eddie leaves right now.
Eddie pushes him back down gently, and when he looks at him, it feels... reverent.
Like adoration.
Sugar cubes.
"Nah, Stevie." He bends to kiss his forehead with a wet, playful smack. "You keep it."
Steve settles back between his thighs and peppers kisses over the tattoos he can reach, stopping at one he asked about earlier. The fluffy cloud, the sleeping fox. "Will you tell me about these now?" Another kiss. "If you want."
Eddie sighs and sits up straighter; lights himself a cigarette. He pokes at each tattoo in turn, the skin dimpling under his touch, and says, "Fox, and Skye. My half-siblings."
"You have siblings?"
"Sure do. Four and seven last time I saw ’em. And yes,” he adds with a smirk in his voice, “my mom was a dirty hippie, in case their names didn’t make that abundantly clear.”
Steve laughs under his breath. "I see why you didn't want to talk about that before."
He traces the outline of the art; thinks about all the other stuff he doesn't know about Eddie, about his life outside of school, outside of Hawkins. Startles himself a little with how badly he wants to learn.
“Son of a bitch…” Eddie whispers. He sounds like he’s talking to himself, and when Steve glances up at him, his gaze has drifted to the middle distance, staring somewhere past the mirror and the guitar hung on the wall.
“What is it?” Steve asks. A dark smudge of anxiety cuts through the afterglow. It's probably nothing, but three years of fighting monsters has set him permanently on edge.
“Nothing," Eddie assures, blinking fast to snap himself out of it. "Sorry. I'm just— just realizing they’re both way older now." He licks his upper lip; clucks his tongue. "Jesus. I haven’t seen them since ’79.”
Oh. “How come?” He probably shouldn’t ask. Feels intrusive and rude.
Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. “Oh, you know,” he answers, and his tone is flippant, swooping melody, but Steve can hear the vulnerable quiver lurking just below. The slightest tremor; a flicked bass string. “Pretty classic tale. Mom remarried, I was the moody teenage step-son getting in the way of the guy’s fresh start. Also,” he sucks in another puff of smoke, croaking on the exhale, “turns out hippies can be homophobes, too, so...”
“Wait, seriously?” Steve twists to sit upright, to spring into action, as if he’s about to— what, exactly? Fight the past on Eddie’s behalf? (He’d do it, for the record, but he’s pretty sure it’s not an option. Not unless one of El’s siblings knows how.) "Eddie, that sucks; I'm so sorry."
“Down, boy,” Eddie snorts, voice gone husky from the smoke. "It's fine; it's old news."
He clearly doesn't care to wallow when he just got his rocks off, so Steve eases himself back down; borrows the cigarette. When he hands it back he jokes, "Should I be worried that it’s, like, kinda hot when you talk to me like I'm a dog?”
Eddie hollers out a laugh, his head knocking against the wall, all those wild curls bouncing around his shaking shoulders. "Jesus Christ. You're fucking dangerous," he beams.
Steve smiles back; pokes the comic bubble on Eddie's knee. "You like danger."
"Little shit.” He rolls his eyes and smiles, softer now, biting it back. The cassette reaches its end. A peaceful hush falls over the room. "Yeah. I guess I do."
Later, when the moon is high and the weed's all gone and sleep tugs at their eyelids like a needy kid; when they're curled on their sides face-to-face on the bed, Eddie reaches across the gap between them and says, "Stay?"
Steve takes his hand; brushes his lips over bare knuckles. "Kiss me?"
"In the morning," Eddie promises. "If you still mean it, ask me then."
part 33
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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sturniololoco · 8 months
Note
I KNOW YOURE CLEANING OUT YOUR INBOX BUT I WAS THINKING AFTER THE TRIPLETS NEW VID TODAY
SLS where reader and chris are the only two who dont test positive for covid, so they have to hunker down in chris’ room together. except, her and chris arent as close as her and nick and her and matt, so they disagree and argue a bit before they make up and bond <33
Covid
Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets
Warnings: Sick, language, fighting, etc.
SLS/N's POV
Nick got covid right after last week's Friday video, then passed it on to Matt, so they both have to quarantine by themselves. Chris and I were still standing though, but now we had to quarantine together in his room, in the hope of avoiding the sickness.
"Hey, guys. As you know Nick got covid and now Matt has it now. So I'm stuck with this goofball until they all feel better," Chris said to the vlog.
I rolled my eyes and stuck my AirPods in my ears, not wanting to put up with his shit at the moment.
Chris and I aren't as close as I am with Matt and Nick. I'm not sure why though, I guess I just drift to people who aren't annoying little grimlins every time you try and talk to them.
-
It was finally dark outside and it was time for bed. after a day of hearing Chris talk and talk and talk into a camera has made my head began to throb.
But I wasn't going to bed anytime soon.
Chris was playing fortnight with Matt right now, and being extremely loud while doing it, banging on the table and screaming our strings of cuss words.
I walk over to his closet, yawning, pulling out one of his fresh Love hoodies and throwing it on, leaving the hood on. I snuggle under Chris's covers, getting warm, and being so tired that I fell fast asleep in the middle of my brothers bed, even with him screaming in the background.
Chris's POV
"Alright man, I'm tired as fuck. I'm signing off." I heard Matt say through my headset. I told him I loved him, then turned off my PC.
After throwing on some sweats and a sleep shirt, I walk over to my bed, ready to crash.
But I stop once I see SLS/N laying in the middle, snuggled up in one of my hoodies that was too big for her.
I couldn't help but thinking how adorable she looked, snapping a picture then sending it to Matt and Nick.
I eventually came to the conclusion that I was just gonna lift her really fast. I snaked my arms up under her and picked her up bridal style before laying down with her in my lap.
As I pulled the blankets up, I hear her mumble something incoherent in her sleep, snuggling close into my chest. I wrap my arms around her, drifting to sleep myself.
SLS/N's POV
I woke up this morning to the pounding headache that hadn't gone away over night like I hoped. I opened my back pack full of things I brought from my room and pulled out my emergency bottle of Tylenol, I climbed back into bed, popping two in my mouth.
Chris was still asleep, but I really wanted to snuggle up into his warmth like last night. I don't know why, but it felt so good getting cuddles from him. Probably because we don't hang out enough for me to ever get some on the regular.
I ever so gently lifted his arm, crawling under it before letting it go. I felt him stir as his hand hit the mattress and look up just in time to see him blink the sleep from his eyes.
"Sorry, I didn't mean too wake you up." I mumbled, kind of embarrassed.
"Its fine, I promise. Are you okay?" He asked, probably seeing the squint my face was making due to the throbbing in my head.
I shrugged and told him my head still hurt like a bitch.
"Well why don't you do your covid test then hop in the shower while you wait, The hot water will probably help your head." He said, reaching over to his night stand to grab a new test.
-
I hop out of the shower and change into some sweats and one of Chris's big t-shirts, then immediately go and check my test.
I reads negative, as does the one next to it which I assume is Chris's. I sigh in relief, not wanting to get sick at all.
-
I walk into Chris’s bedroom to see him scrolling on his phone in his bed. l’m surprised when I see him put his phone down and open his arms for a cuddle. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his torso, the awkwardness only lasting half a second.
“hey sissy?” I hear him mumble quietly into my hair. I hum in response. He clears his throat thickly and I can hear the emotion in his throat.
“I just wanted to say that I’m glad we got to spend this time with you. I love you so so much and that will never change.”
I look up to see a tear fall from his eye, but he quickly whipes it away. I feel my own tears coming and I snuggle up close into his chest.
“That was cringey.” I say, laughing out a sob. He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight.
@idkwhosnyla @babypat08 @eyelessdemon00 @christopherowensturniolo @sturnsxx @freshloveforthefit @matty443355 @sleepysturnss @emeraldgreenbeautiesstu @sunsetsturniolos @hoesturniolo @x4nd3rsukz @chr1sgirl4life @sstvrnioloo @sturns-posts @chrisstopherfilmed @kylasrealityx @zoeysturnioloooooo @comet235 @islaasblog @sturnioloblogs
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live-laugh-legolas · 11 days
Note
FOR UR FELLOWSHIP REQUEST THING maybe the fellowship with an depressed reader? like how each of them would treat the reader (i wanted to go for su1c1d@l but idk if ur chill with it(ONLY IF U WANNA))
Remember that you are not alone so please reach out for help. There are hotlines to call/text if you are struggling, suicidal, or in a crisis
My messages are always open if you want to talk but I am no replacement for professional help and support of your loved ones
The fellowship x depressed!reader
Aragorn:
-He recognizes the signs quickly
-I imagine he’s had his bouts of depression
-He definitely takes a very gentle approach
-Offering a shoulder and an ear
-He’s kinda an unpaid and unlicensed therapist
-He gives lots of tips on how to keep going in your daily life
-For some people depression is kind of a way of life; you have to learn to live with it
Legolas:
-He doesn’t fully understand at first
-To elves, depression is really only experienced after loss
-So to have it chronically is a new concept to him
-He’s remorseful that you feel so low and he knows there isn’t much he can do
-But he will try
-He will force you to get up and out of bed, even if he has to throw you over his shoulder to get you some fresh air
-He will constantly point out little beautiful things to be grateful for; little joys
-Maybe it’s the smell of dawn or crunchy fall leaves
-Or maybe it’s him; he is very insistent that you would miss him most
Gimli:
-I literally love this dwarf so much; he would be such a cutie that you can’t help but smile at him
-Like he is so gentle and patient with you; which is saying something because dwarves are not patient beings
-He isn’t someone who will beat around the bush though; he will very bluntly tell you your worth and why he and everyone else needs and wants you around
-He gets you involved in anything he can
-Is it against your will? Maybe
-But I’ve found I sometimes end up feeling a little better and enjoy the time out even after I’ve bitched about it and my friend had to drag me out of the house by my hair
Boromir:
-Big brother mode is always active so he picks up on your subtle changes very fast
-Maybe even before you do
-He will tell you stuff like “even if you can’t, you must”
-Wether or not you find that helpful or not; just know he’s trying
-His experience with depression is seeing it with his soldiers
-And that’s the sort of thing he tells them so he just kinda hopes can be applied to you
-He is very action oriented; I think he may have a difficult time sympathizing with not feeling able to get up and do anything
-But damnit if he doesn’t try; he wants you to tell him everything so he can learn and be of better support
-He also gives the best hugs
Frodo:
-He is a very steady friend
-Like he’s not going anywhere; no matter how dark things look he’s still there with a torch
-He makes you go on walks like clockwork to give you some feeling of routine
-He always invites you over because if he can’t help he’s sure Bilbo can
-How can you be sad when talking to Bilbo?
-Well actually he talks a lot so maybe it’s a bit exhausting; but it’s a kind thought
Sam:
-So Sam wants to help so bad; the idea that he can’t fix it doesn’t sit well with him so he will keep trying
-He will help with tasks obviously because acts of service is his love language
-But I also imagine him trying to give comfort but not in the “let me hug you and you can cry on my shoulder way”
-More so in the “look at this photo of a piglet in rain-boots! You can’t be sad while looking at that!”
-Yes you can because that’s not how depression works but still; you put on a smile anyway because he’s just so adorable and he’s trying his best
-This may turn into a sort of “fake it till you make it” situation where eventually you may feel better from his antics
Merry:
-We know this hobbit likes to plan things and is always up for adventure with his friends
-And he’s basically Sherlock of the hobbits so you don’t have to say anything for him to read you like an open book
-He will set you a schedule and will hold you to it by joining you
-He’s not going to go easy on you ngl
-Not in a mean way; but he won’t give you a day to take a break and stay in bed
-Even if you have to half ass everything; you will be doing something
-“you don’t need to wash your hair but you do need to sit in this tub for at least 10 minutes”
-This can feel exhausting at the time and may make you snap at him sometimes but he’s determined because he loves you
-And sometimes tough love is the most helpful
Pippin:
-Can’t get out of bed?
-Don’t worry! Pippin won’t let you be lonely
-He won’t always drag you out of bed. Instead he will join you and talk your ear off
-He brings the “fun” to you
-With the hope that he will either annoy you so much you get up
-Or that his stories give you some level of intrigue to want to go out and see whatever it was he is talking about
Gandalf:
-This is a very old man, he’s seen depression in all states and forms
-He’s a quiet type of comfort
-He definitely says some vague poetic shit that isn’t necessarily helpful but it does have a meaningful lesson
-Offers his pipe
-He is also sort of they type that you are a little afraid to disobey
-Like if he tells you to get outside more; even if you don’t see him, he knows if you have or haven’t
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Idk how good this is. I personally do have depression so I know my own experiences with how it affects me, but it shows in different ways for everyone. In terms of comfort and support I’m not fully sure this does any justice, hopefully it’s a little comforting. I have a great support system but I’m notorious for being too stubborn to accept help. Don’t do that by the way, because eventually it will likely stop coming. Let your friends and family support you; it’s not out of pity; it’s because they care and want to help in anyway they can even if that just means checking to make sure you are alive each morning to let you know they are there.
Anyone can message me if they need someone to talk to. I’m no therapist or expert in any sense but I can be a friend :)
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jmdbjk · 29 days
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No hurricanes.
We have 4 days left in August but it looks like there will be no hurricanes for us. We are typically waiting for one to arrive about this time every August. Definitely a welcome calm because there was already too much shit packed into this past month as it was so thank you to Mother Nature for not adding that extra layer of a shit show.
That being said, there is always next week for a hurricane. We wait. In the meantime, Episode 5 of Are You Sure? drops after I go to sleep tomorrow night.
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Namjoon has been active on his IG account, he just tweaked his bio, changing the title "right place, wrong person" to all lowercase. We are holding the ship on a steady course, Captain. Seas are rough but we see the signals.
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In case you didn't know, Miss Karma came back from her vacation. As of today, Min Hee Jin has been terminated as CEO of Ador.
She is being given the choice of remaining as director/producer for NewJeans but all of her stock options and whatever went poof. Good luck bitch, fighting your sexual harassment lawsuits without your CEO salary or perks. On your way out, please fumigate your office and leave the keys with the security team.
In other news, Billboard executives meeting this week to discuss major changes to Billboard Hot 100 and minor changes to Billboard 200. Can't wait to hear what this new round of fresh hell will be.
Also, Billboard having an event in Seoul to fiNd ThE nExT BTS!
Ya know... after all this time... how has no one ever realized its not the NEXT BTS anyone needs to be searching for? Yes, to the part about finding an authentic artist who can craft their own (really good) songs with lyrics that resonate. But the real key they need to find is...
... the next FANDOM that is like Army. Globally diverse from different walks of life including young, old and in-between. Loyal, loving, smart, organized, even if at times we seem to struggle to come together.
If an artist can cultivate a relationship with their fandom which consists of mutual respect and trust between them only THEN can the artist do anything, be anything, even untouchable. Hasn't anyone been listening at all? BTS has been saying for years they couldn't do anything... wouldn't be where they are... would have no reason to exist WITHOUT ARMY.
Seriously shaking my damn head. No one listens. No one.
Some other random things that are constantly doing a hit n'run inside my head...
I hope Jimin’s time with Dior menswear is finished because good lawd that shit is fugly. No. Just no:
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It looks like an outfit they would be forced to wear as a penalty for losing a Run BTS game. Isn't that the same way Koreans tie up what they call a "lamb head" towel around their head to go in the public baths?
I haven’t talked about Jin at all this month. Shame on me.
He's been very very busy endearing himself not only to Army but to middle-aged men, women, kids, moms, future spouses, actors, idols, foodies, gamers, fishermen, grandmas, grandpas, the world.
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Hobi will be coming home in 49(?) days!
Jimin and Jungkook are sending off their fellow soldiers with autographs as they are discharged. I guess it is somewhat comforting to read these simple messages they write to their departing comrades. It's all we have for now. I hope they are doing ok way out there in the boonies. 9 months and 15 days left.
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Auditor, Phobos, 2BDamned and Sanford with a reader that overworks themselves. Prioritizing work over mental and physical health, pushing themselves to their breaking point, skipping meals and only getting a few hours of sleep. I just need these four in particular to tell me to take care of myself and care about me argggh
Overworked reader
Audi, Phobos, Doc, Sanford
CW: bit of a mental spiral on San's end, ends well tho.
Burnouts a bitch man, don't wear yourself thin over shit, y'hear?
Auditor
"Are the chef's meals not to your liking?" You nearly jumped out of your seat when Auditor's ghostly whisper filled your ear. Casting your aching, tired eyes from your paperwork at the once hot meal, still arranged with care on the plate, completely untouched from the moment it left the kitchen.
"Oh, no. Of course not. They're good, don't worry." You offered him a weak smile. "I'll have it later, I just need to finish this up." Audi's eyes narrowed as you gestured meekly to your desk, piled high with reports, cloning records, casualty tallies, and other such boring admin work.
"It's cold." He grumbled, spinning your chair to face him, hands on his hips. "You're going to really hurt yourself and burn out if you keep pulling these awkward hours. Don't think I haven't noticed you slipping from our bed to come back to this. Did you forget how light a sleeper I am?"
Audi's stern demeanour dropped as your features fell, already feeling low because of how your body was struggling, now having your boss/lover add to that. "I just need to be able to keep up with you. What use am I really if I can't handle a fraction of the work you do?"
His hand rested under your chin, thumb delicately stroking your cheek. "You could never keep up with me, my flame, I was made to handle this. You're just a delicate mortal, you do more than enough without stressing yourself trying to level with me. Allow me to finish this later, mea vita, you are going to get a hot, fresh meal while I draw a bath for us, and after you will get the rest your body needs. That's an order, from your employer, understood?"
"Yes, but-"
He cut you off. "No 'ifs, ands, or buts,' You are going to hurt yourself, and I refuse to allow anyone to hurt you, even self inflicted pain. I, as your partner and boss, will clear this burden for you. When I asked for your best, I meant the best you can consistently handle, not this. You're not yourself, and I command you seek out that old self that I fell for and bring them back to me instantly."
Phobos
Being the director's lover had essentially no downsides, nobody spoke a bad word around you, people helped you far more than before, not to mention the adoration of the most powerful figure in the physical realm. However, that same man would often breathe down your neck, commanding you to stay by his side constantly.
Phobos relished in you, watching you, listening to you, being around you. He wished to be adored equally in return, however your work proved to be a distraction from him. He was... a tad obsessive, but how could he not be? He's a god, it was only right you'd devote yourself to him and him alone.
"Leave that alone will you? Your god requires your attention." A large clawed hand rested on your shoulder, the other pulling down his bandages from his mouth. "Your recent neglect of me is not going unnoticed, dear."
You rubbed your aching eyes, staring at a computer screen all day and most of the night irritated them. "I'm sorry Bo, but there's a lot of work that needs reviewing, I've got weeks of backlog to go through, and Christoff, Crackpot and Gonne have all submitted new reports today with pages and pages of intel to go through."
His hands wrapped around your middle, he lifted you up and took your place on the chair, resting you in his far more comfortable lap. "Bah, they're not worthy of your time. I'll command someone else to do it, the short fat one, whatever his name is. He enjoys paperwork and the like."
"Hofnarr is no doubt as swamped as I am." He took your face in one of his hands, his cracked and damaged lips pressing against your cheek.
"Someone else then, if it pleases you. Whatever it takes for you to spend time with me." You leaned into him, your back pressing against his chest, and he emitted a deep purr. "I am a god amongst men, dear, I don't beg for what I desire. I take it. And yet I allow you this honour. So please..."
Your stomach rumbled against his hand. "Harumph! Neglecting yourself as much as you've neglected me?! How dare you, enough is enough. I command you take care of yourself!" Phobos picked you up with ease, holding you level to his eye. To anyone else, he'd be holding them by their collar, or neck to meet his gaze, but with you, he was softer. A hand under your rump and the other on your back, supporting your weight comfortably.
"You are the lover of a god, think how pitiful it would look if I can't even take care of my equal? You stand above others, the right hand of my throne. Your duties have changed, lesser beings will take charge of them. Your only priorities are yourself and me, and the family we will create." Phobos snapped his fingers, and one of the guards at the door came forward.
"See to it that the chefs prepare your God's favourites, find someone to take their duties on and allow them to be truly indulged as they should be." Phobos looked back to you, his eye narrowing. "I will tear this world asunder for you, and build it up as you desire. I will give you anything your heart pines for, never again shall you be run ragged like this."
Phobos was self assured, a god of the highest order, surrounded by weaker, lesser beings. And yet here he was, begging at your altar. He wished you'd devote yourself equally to worshipping you as he did, and he would make damn sure that happened.
2BDamned
3 AM. Doc was in the kitchen, boiling some water over the stove. Hank has smashed the coffee maker earlier in the day, said he'd accidentally dropped the thing, yet couldn't explain the crowbar in his hands. Doc gritted his teeth, damn Wimbleton, making his hard job harder with their stupid thoughtless actions.
He had no doubt the fool had burned themselves on the machine and gone overboard against the poor helpless thing in revenge. Now here he stood, using the stove to make both his coffee and his snack. Instant noodles, his saving grace in the world. Easy to prepare, quick to eat, and filling.
With bleary, tired eyes, you wandered into the dim kitchen, hearing Doc grumbling to himself about 'Getting that moron to find another working machine or he'll have his spine inserted upside down next time.'
"Hey sweetheart." Yawning and setting your tablet down, you wrapped your arms around his midriff and leaned your face into his back. One hand pulled way from the stove, running down your arm before resting atop your hand, feeling the ring around your finger.
"You should be asleep, love." Doc murmured, his animosity towards Hank gone in the wind. You inhaled deeply, basking in his familiar scent.
"I could say the same to you, Kyle." He let out a soft 'Hm.', agreeing without agreeing. You were right, of course. "Debugging with Dei was going well, till he nodded off. San came by on one of his usual bathroom breaks and picked him up."
Doc poured the water into his noodle cup. "You want some coffee?" He took your favourite mug out of the cupboard.
"I thought you wanted me to sleep." You teased tiredly.
"You're my spouse. I know you well enough to know that's not gonna happen anytime soon, even if I would like it if you did." He tossed some powdered milk into the cups along with the beans. "We don't have any sugar left I'm afraid, or sweetener. It's become so scarce these days. Ration packages can't even supply a tiny packet anymore."
"I can get sugar anytime I've got you around." Doc smiled and turned off the hob, turning around to pull you into his arms. "Can I get some now?"
As far as you two were concerned, nothing else existed, everything except what was in both your arms was null and void. He tilted his head down slightly, lips catching yours softly. Butterflies fluttered in your tummy, they flared up every time your husband kissed you.
You rested your head on his chest, it was rare you two had a truly private moment together, as much as you both tried. Being enemies of the state was hard work, who'd have thought?
"You should really lay down dear." Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked up to him. You hadn't even realised you'd started dozing off in his arms.
"No, I've got work to do." You yawned, and Doc chuckled softly.
"You're really stubborn sometimes, you know that?" He picked up both coffees and his noodles. "Tell you what, grab your tablet and we can get cosy in bed together. Work can wait until later, I think we've overdue some private couple time."
Nestled in the crook of Doc's arm felt like the safest place in the world, even with coffee in your system, you couldn't help but fall asleep with him. Trust and love deep rooted, he was your sanctuary.
And damn it, he was going to get you into a healthier sleep routine.
Sanford
It'd been a couple weeks since you'd seen Ford, Doc had sent him off on recon work with Deimos and a splinter group from a faction allied with the SQ, they'd been on the other side of Nevada having heard whispering of something dangerous settling out there.
Two weeks of silence left you anxious, pacing around often, skipping meals and staying up into the early hours of the morning. Longing makes the heart sick, and a sick heart makes the body weak.
The only think you could do to keep your mind occupied was cleaning out the gun stash, checking over the stocked rounds repeatedly, despite the numbers never changing, cleaning already dirt and grime free steel.
A scrubbing brush in hand, you scraped at one of the many swords Hank had salvaged, violently jolting the bristles back and forth over either rust, or really crusted on blood just above the hilt.
Doc usually kept you in the loop of long jobs, sometimes you'd even be in walkie talkie range of your partner and could hear his voice. He could be hurt, he could be dead, you'd be none the wiser, and that was maddening.
Of course you weren't needy and dependant on him, that'd be too much, but just a sign he was okay would've been enough to give you peace of mind. It's the not knowing that drove you to dark places.
Bang!
You jumped in your seat as the front door slammed. "Baby, you here? I'm back." Dropping the blade, you got to you feet and rushed to the door.
"Sanford, you're okay?!" You leaped into his arms, and he caught you easily. Oh sweet security, your world had come home to you safely.
"Yeah babe," San leaned back slightly to get a good look at you, his loving gaze turning to concern. "uh, hope you don't mind me sayin' doll/stud, but you look like hell." His hands brushed over your hair. "...When did you last shower?"
Suddenly you felt rather embarrassed, it'd been a.... couple days at least. Probably about a week since you'd stopped properly taking care of yourself. Swapping meals out for multiple junk snacks, a fucked up sleeping schedule consisting of occasional naps but mostly anxious pacing and activity.
"Uhm..." That was an answer enough for him.
"Baby," Sanford rubbed his cheek, clearing off some dust from his face. "you need to take care of yourself." He sighed and took off his sunglasses. "Have you even been eating properly?"
You didn't meet his gaze. "Okay. Tell you what," He took off his dirty tank top and tossed it aside. "I'll pull out something from the freezer, shove it in the oven while we get a nice shower, and then we can eat and get some rest." Just being near him, hearing his melodic voice again was enough to bring you to a sense of normalcy.
Sanford was fine, he was alive, he was here.
"Things have just been a bit... off without you." You sighed, clinging to his frame, almost afraid if you let him go, he'd run off for another two weeks, or longer. "Sorry, it's just been a lot to deal with, not knowing where you were, if you were safe... It's been hard."
"I get it. I do, I really do," Sanford had his own experiences with deep depression, despite being the large stoic type, the horrors of war, what he and his friends had to do to get an advantage against everything haunted him. "fight, flight, freeze is a real thing, but you can't just shut down baby. You gotta keep fightin, keep yourself in good shape 'cause it's a scary world out there."
"I know. It's easier said than done though." Sanford pulled out a tray of his legendary frozen mac n cheese, you hadn't checked the freezer since he'd left, otherwise that would've been long gone. You didn't know how he did it, but it was godly each time he made it.
"I get that." He shoved the tray into the oven, flicking switches to heat up the frozen dish. "You gotta change how you think, baby." You watched him take off his bandanna, revealing his hair. Or lack thereof.
"You shaved your head?" Usually he'd grow out his hair, style it into long locs and keep them tied back and under his bandanna, but once in a blue moon he'd get bored of maintaining them, and shave it off to start again.
Sanford ran a hand over his scalp, feeling the small curls starting to reappear. "Yeah, easier than trying to keep it clean out there. Dusty as hell." His hands came to rest on your shoulders, turning you to the bathroom. "No bother, I've got your hair to care for now. I'mma spoil you rotten."
Years of caring for his baby siblings had taught the beefcake that just telling someone what to do usually didn't help, but doing it along side them helped solidify the action. He'd help you get cleaned up, get back to eating proper food and getting proper sleep.
He needed to fall into the routine too, sleeping rough in trucks was a pain in his back, and access to his comfy old bed would do him wonders to getting decent sleep again. A full belly and his favourite person in the entire world cuddling into his pecs definitely helped too.
Yes, he needed this just as much as you did.
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busines-as-unusual · 6 months
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˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 1 - Key Signature⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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“Where the fuck is that fucking raccoon slag?!”
The avian-like demon stomped backstage at his sleazy burlesque show, not caring if the roar of his voice was louder than the band playing down in the pit. Sinners under his employ dashed back and forth to keep busy and stay out of his way. The unlucky few who got caught in the Overlord’s crossfire of his rage were sent flying through the air with a flap of his wings, crashing painfully on props or other demons.
The demon yanked the cigar out of his mouth to wipe the drool of alcohol gathering in the corner of his mouth. “Bitch, you got to the count of four–”
That always did the trick. You scrambled out of your dressing room in a blur of purple and silver. You wore your signature outfit: a corset pushing up your best assets, with fringe and feathers everywhere hiding nothing from view. He'd have you for himself tonight if he weren't so irritated.
Your arms were crossed, face in a shitty frown, eyes trained on something behind him. “Yes, Roman?”
“Yes, Roman,” he mocked, taking pleasure when you cringed in on yourself. “You know you're on in five?”
“Of course I know,” you spat the words, testing out your defiance. “I-I was just–”
He yanked you by the arm, talons threatening to pierce your skin. You winced, shaking in his grasp, looking up at the demon who owned your soul with barefaced vitriol.
Roman cupped your cheek in a grotesque caricature of an affectionate gesture. His thumb caressed your cheek right under your eye, right where he knew a bruise was hiding under your shitty makeup job. It would be invisible on stage under the harsh lights, not that anyone would care if it wasn't. This was Hell after all.
He took a drag of his cigar. “You can give me all the lip you want after you do your fucking job. Capiche, honey?”
You grimaced, trying not to gag on the acrid smell of his cigar curdling in your lungs. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
You fumed in silence, wishing you could tell him to wrap his lips around a Smith and Wesson. But you swallowed the retort, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear. “...yes, daddy.”
He grinned. “There's my favorite girl.”
With a smack on your ass, he pushed you to take your mark. One of the stagehands reminded you of your cue to enter, but their voice mixed with the band and backstage chaos turning into pure white noise irritating your brain. This had been your routine since nearly your first days in Hell. You did not need a recap.
Squaring your shoulders, you plastered on a well practiced show-stopping smile. You strutted center stage with all the confidence in Hell, hands on exaggeratedly swiveling hips to greet your adoring audience of savage beast.
The music swelled as if the instruments themselves were applauding the sultry sway of your body.
You allowed yourself to get lost in the music, your body taking over the reigns as it did what it did best. It was the only way you could get through this with your sanity intact. In life, you’d made it your mission to dance to your own rhythm, but in Hell you found yourself once again forced to follow another's rhythm for survival, your well-being at the mercy of vile men.
You could strangle every single one of them.
Rip them apart with your bare hands.
Like most denizens in Hell, you loathed the owner of your soul. Once a fresh sinner, confused with your new surroundings, and terrified of heaven's wrath, you made your deal out of naivety and fear. Only later did you understand what you’d done when it was far too late to take it back.
So you danced every night for the pleasure of others, preferring to let your eyes burn staring at the spotlights rather than at the hungry faces of lustful demons, preferring to let the music deafen you so you couldn’t hear their wolf whistles and vulgar comments.
Your soul and body no longer moved in tandem, the pain of the unsynchronization intractable and ever-present.
You were so far away the flickering lights above didn't reach you until they all went out, bathing the club in darkness. All at once you returned to yourself, body stopping on its own accord. The patrons muttered, confused, concerned, and disgruntled. Somewhere not far away enough, Roman was shouting at some poor soul to fix the lights.
The temperature dropped in the blink of an eye. Pins and needles scratched at the underside of your skin, a sensation felt by all as silence swept throughout the establishment, louder than the band.
“R̸͙̃ő̶̧͍͠ḿ̶̨̺̋a̸͈̱̽̓ñ̸̻, R̸͙̃ő̶̧͍͠ḿ̶̨̺̋a̸͈̱̽̓ñ̸̻, R̸͙̃ő̶̧͍͠ḿ̶̨̺̋a̸͈̱̽̓ñ̸̻…”
The familiar voice distorted by static was enough to make everyone lose their collective shit. Screams pierced the air as patrons and employees alike rushed to the exit, trampling on each other and shattering windows, clawing for escape.
You froze as the chaos unfolded. A light fixture above you crashed and shattered on the floor, shards of glass flying, biting your skin.
The building shook. Tendrils of shadows snaked through the windows and doors like murderous tornadoes, tearing through concrete and sinners alike with no discretion, cutting them down like weeds. Like a house of cards the building crumbled on top of you, the darkness all-consuming.
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The weight of a collapsed building in Hell was the equivalent of a stubbed toe. It won't kill you, but it'll hurt like a motherfucker.
You clawed your way out of the rubble, coughing up dust and debris that invaded your lungs. You breached the surface and gulped down fresh Hellish air. The sounds of a bloody brawl were mere background noise as you assessed your damage. Blood dripped and bruises ached but you were alright otherwise. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said for the other residents of the club.
Hell made one accustomed to blood and gore, but it was still a shock to see it unprompted. Blood soaked into the remains of the ex-establishment, limbs strewn about with abandon. The air grew thick with copper. A leg free from its owner stood beside you, comically upright.
You regarded the leg with mild distaste, then to the rubble still covering your own legs.
You’d done grosser things…
With the leg, you shoved off the remainder of the rubble pinning you down, tossing it behind you with a sigh of relief. You stood, then immediately nearly collapsed like the building.
Your chest burned as if your heart combusted. Grabbing at the white-hot pain behind your ribs, you dropped to one knee, drawing in ragged breaths that couldn’t reach your lungs. Vision blurred as your body struggled to stay upright. A scream shredded itself across Hell like a bloodied siren was drowned out by the maddening ringing in your ears.
As suddenly as the sensation appeared, it stopped, replaced with an invisible weight lifting from your shoulders. You felt inexplicably lighter.
A crimson chain— your chain, bestowed on you by Roman— manifested around your neck, then shattered like glass on a hardwood floor, dissipating into the wind like smoke from his cigars. In that moment you knew he was deader than dead. His soul was no more.
And you were free.
You nearly sobbed at the realization, euphoria washing over you like a wave. Fingers instinctively stroked your throat in disbelief.
The celebration was cut short when the familiar chill of static crawled over your skin. Sensing the presence behind you, you turned, and there he was.
The Radio Demon.
He had quickly made a name for himself down in Hell as one of the realm's most powerful, dangerous, and evil beings. You’d been around for a year before he made his presence known, but even then you could tell how much he alone had changed the landscape of Hell.
His broadcast kept him a mystery for the most part, but there were a few artistic renditions of his likeness from sinners who crossed his path and lived to tell the tale. Some were more accurate than others, but they all got his sadistic smile down perfectly.
And now that smile was aimed your way.
You should be terrified, and maybe you supposed you were, but pure awe overshadowed the prudent fear that should be in its place.
Your eyes made contact with the dials in place of his irises. His grin skewed in thought as he approached her, theatrically spinning his cane around him.
You didn't shrink back. You couldn't if you wanted to. Curiosity took hold of your flight or fight instincts as you watched him draw near, stopping when he was less than a meter away.
He was a lot redder than you expected, with antlers like a deer perched on oddly fluffy hair and golden teeth like a shark. His pinstriped suit was pristine and exquisite despite the battle he'd been part of not too long ago. The dials of his eyes vanished, replaced with red.
It was like he bathed in blood.
And you supposed he did.
You stared up at the towering demon, feeling small but not intimidated. He inspected you, crimson stare taking you in, intrigued by your next move. You were all too aware of your heart in your chest.
“That was quick,” was all you thought to say.
His smile turned closed mouthed, head tilting in amusement more so than confusion. “Oh? And did you expect the buffoon to have me put up a bigger fight?”
You shrugged. “The buffoon was an Overlord for over five hundred years. You don't accomplish that without knowing how to hold your own in a fight. At least that's what he always told me.”
The Radio Demon laughed, a hearty, campy sound full of bravado. “Braggarts souls like him, I find, are always the fastest to fall. You can never trust a man who sings his own praises, my dear.
You snickered in agreement but held back a retort. Something about the demon before you rang familiar. His voice, the way he talked and held himself, it all nagged at you to place where you’d met him before. But you couldn't have, you’d definitely remember a man like this.
Unless… you didn't meet in Hell?
Before you could ask, he grabbed your face with a single hand and forced you to look at him. Thumb and forefinger dug into your cheeks bruisingly as he smiled down at you. His eyes glimmered with hunger, and not the lustful hunger of need you were familiar with. He looked ready to devour you.
“Subservience to utter filth is unbecoming of you. You'd do well to use that brain of yours to not find yourself in the gutter again.”
You didn't pull away, scowling up at him for having the nerve to condescend to you. You weren’t stupid. You were always determined that if you were ever freed of Roman, you'd never let another demon have your soul ever again. You finally, finally belonged to you again, you weren’t dumb enough to jeopardize it.
You'd rather die permanently than give up your freedom.
Somehow, the Radio Demon read your intent. His smile grew despite the daggers you shot at him. His hand fell from your face and gave a dramatic bow. “Well I must be off! Do have a Hellish evening, my dear.” He turned on his heel and retreated, shadows swallowing him before he was even out of view.
You scrambled off the ashen remains of her past afterlife. You needed to act, and fast.
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You stepped out onto the porch of your mansion to greet another wonderfully Hellish day in paradise. The air was sweet with the scent of blood and brimstone. In the distance the usual turf battle soundtracked the morning. With a final goodbye to your house staff, you closed the door and skipped off to meet Rosie for mid-morning tea.
For decades, you two would meet biweekly at a cafe not too far from either of your territories to gossip and catch up. Rosie wasn’t like your normal company of rowdy barflies, shakers, and movers, but she was the kindest soul in the nine circles and never held a dull conversation. She was your oldest friend, not just in Hell but ever, having helped you land back on your feet after your soul contract came to a welcomed end.
You all but danced down the street, waving back to the friendly faces and familiar demons along your well-traveled path.
When Rosie spotted you, she beamed and waved you down to the table. You returned the warm smile as you sat and greeted your friend. An impish waiter sat a pot of piping tea on the table along with sugar, milk, and a basket of scones before scurrying off.
“Rosie, love!” You sang, pouring both of them a cup. “How’s tricks?”
“Oh you know, same old same old.” She pulled out a familiar tin and popped it open. Rows of dismembered fingers, some polished and some with the rings still on, lined the dainty box. She carded through them like an address book before landing on one she deemed tastiest to use like a stirrer to cool her drink. “Although I know a gal who may be looking for an acting gig.”
You chuckled and poured milk into your tea. “Send her my way. We’ll see what she's made of. But you know I don’t play favorites.”
They both laughed, and the two of them settled into the usual pleasantries: the state of Rosie’s colony and residents, her upcoming appointments; your beloved theater company, and even more beloved bar and club.
You were proud to run two successful businesses in Hell after decades of hard, dirty, violent work. You owned plenty of souls who were happy to do their jobs in return for protection and good pay. The assets left behind in the wake of Roman’s death were used to rebuild your life in Hell.
In life, you ran a little speakeasy and a small off, off Broadway theater and did quite well for yourself all things considered, but your success in Hell made your living accomplishments look like small potatoes.
Rosie laughed at the anecdote you told , shaking her head in amused disapproval. “Tem, dear, stop antagonizing poor Ramona. You already slept with her husband.”
“I’ll stop when she stops sending bombs to my club.” You reached for your third scone. “Poor Jet is getting tired of diffusing them, and half the time the damn things don’t even work! I thought she was some kind of weapons expert.”
“She sells knives door to door.”
“Good lord, that's even sadder.”
Your laughter died down as the air dipped in a staticky chill, making your damn raccoon tail involuntarily twitch, fur stand on end. From a cloud of shadows stepped a familiar grinning face that always had your stomach doing undesirable flips.
“Alastor!” Rosie cried in delight. “Where have you been hiding? Don’t be shy, pull up a chair!”
The Radio Demon did just that. With a snap of his fingers he manifested a chair beneath, sat his cane to the side, and sat with a flourish. He was never one to do something mundanely, even something as simple as sitting. “Rosie, Temerity! Always the pleasure to be in the company of two fine ladies.”
You returned the greeting casually, then turned your attention to your cup of tea, taking a long sip as Rosie chatted Alastor up. You were happy to let Rosie take the lead in the conversation, as your heart decided now was the perfect time to take up tap dancing. Dead at thirty-four, in Hell for nearly three times as long, but here you were, heart a-twitter like a virgin at a petting party.
You wanted to drown in the feeling everytime. It made you sick.
Your ears perked when Rosie mentioned your name, your cue to rejoin the conversation. “It is certainly a surprise to see you out this way this morning, Alastor.” Your smile was bright but guarded. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m actually in the business of business this morning.” The crackle of the white noise that accompanied him always made his voice so warm in a way you could never describe, but by Satan’s glorious wrath, you’d be willing to listen to him talk for hours to figure it out. Thankfully, upon his return from his seven year holiday, his radio broadcasts were once again a pleasant addition to your morning routine.
“Always with the work, this guy,” Rosie said, playfully tapping him on the shoulder. “What did you need this time, darling?”
“I’m in need of Tem’s services.”
It was a gift you didn’t spew tea all over them. “My services? You’ll have to be more specific.”
His perpetual smile was hard to read, his eyes conveyed nothing but mirth. “I’m sure you’re well aware of my dealings with the princess of Hell and her hotel for wayward sinners?”
You nodded. It was common knowledge Princess Charlotte was trying to redeem sinners and Alastor had taken up the duty of the hotel’s protector. It was the stuff of rumors. Why was the Radio Demon involved in such an endeavor? What sinister plot was he playing at? What diabolical plans was he brewing? Personally, you thought he was there for shits and giggles. You knew how he liked to watch people struggle and fail; the hotel was his own personal circus.
“The poor thing is anxious that check-ins are slow and is pulling hair for recruitment ideas,” Alastor continued. “So I told her I had a friend who may be able to help draw in potential souls.”
You frowned, ears shifting in confusion against your will. You tried so hard to keep careful control of how others perceived your emotions, but those damned ears and tail of yours were determined to always give you away. “I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
“Why your performing arts company, my dear! I think your shows and entertainment expertise are precisely the thing Charlie is looking for to draw in more damned souls.”
“Oh!” You were at full attention, ears popping up in excitement. You had no higher power to be grateful to, but were nonetheless glad Alastor couldn’t see your excited tail swish behind the chair. “I see your vision now. You've come to the right gal.”
“Splendid!” His smile shifted in tone. Something at the crossroads of satisfied, cheerful, and a third something you couldn't quite place. It reached his eyes, lending them a mischievous twinkle.
The two of you finalized a plan to meet up with Princess Charlotte, and with that Alastor was gone as quickly as he came, melting into the shadows. Once gone, Rosie served you a devilishly knowing grin.
“Don’t,” you warned.
“What?” Rosie asked with faux innocence from behind her tea cup. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
She didn’t need to say anything, because you were near bursting at the seams.
You rested your forehead on a hand, flushed skin warm under your palm. “What is it about that man that’s got me so… what do the kids say these days? Down bad?”
“That’s the word for it.” She took a bite of her finger like a biscuit softened by milk. “I still say you should tell him. Get it over with, his reaction be damned.”
“Rosie. Sweetheart.” You looked at said friend, eyes dead serious as her tone. “What about me makes you think I’m suicidal?”
“I’m just saying. With your taste in men, you could do a lot worse, hun.”
“Oh, please. I have soliloquized about your taste in men.”
“Touche, dear. But you'll never see me this worked up over a fella like you get with Alastor.”
“I am not ‘worked up!’” You waggled her fingers, rolling your eyes at the phrase. “Rosie, you know me. I do not get worked up over any man.”
Rosie nodded, knowing look still on her face.
“I just happen to find Alastor… deeply and endlessly enthralling and morbidly attractive.”
“So you're down bad but not worked up?”
“Precisely!”
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Rosie was right, and you hated it. You’ve been stupidly worked up for decades over the worst man to be worked up over.
In life and death, you’ve had more than your fair share of flings, swings, and misses. No harm, no foul. You were in the game for fun. And what fun would it be if there was never a chase or challenge?
But when it came to Alastor, there was no game to be played. Which wouldn’t be so bad if your feelings for Alastor were shallow and fleeting like they were with most men, and not the twisted web of complications and confusion you spent so much of her afterlife trying to understand so you could properly suppress it.
At first, they were trifling, easy to ignore as you made moves to turn your shitty afterlife around. The two of you rarely crossed paths in the beginning. Then, somehow, he managed to worm his way into your life in little ways. An appearance at your birthday parties here, joining in on picnics with Rosie there, an occasional run-in at the bar Mimzy performs at for free drinks. You became cordial acquaintances on the surface, but deep down each meeting only fanned the flames of longing you developed for him. After fifty years you couldn't write it off as simple infatuation.
You smacked your cheeks. Now was the time to get your shit together. You were an adult, not some love-struck teenager. You spent a lifetime and more practicing careful control of her emotions, your mother hammered in the importance of temperance until you bled; unrequited feelings shouldn't be a problem.
After leaving your theater in the capable hands of your co-managers, you waited outside for Alastor to pick you up. You’d changed outfits since this morning; something more akin to doing business, but still plenty cute and classy.
(And no, you didn’t change to impress Alastor. That would be stupid and fruitless.)
Your signature choker graced your lovely neck. A simple black lace choker held a large pendant. Within were two intertwined bloodshot eyes, wide and restless and unblinking. They swam and circled each other like rabid cyclones.
The shadows folded and solidified beside you and Alastor appeared in all his glory, startling a sinner passing by. The poor sap ran, not looking where he was going, and was pulverized by a speeding car, the man left in its wake now half a grease spot on the road.
Alastor tutted and shook his head, his ever-present smile curled in twisted amusement.
You’ve seen sinners do that before, preferring to be maimed over crossing paths with the Radio Demon. You always found it darkly hilarious. No doubt Alastor did as well, though he hid it better behind that dapper smile of his.
“Jaywalkers,” you said with a sigh, not noticing when Alastor’s grin grew a hair.
“Shall we, doll?” He held out his hand and you tried not to look too eager to take it. His shadows wrapped around you both as he whisked you and him away.
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A/N: This was a bitch to do on a tablet, lol. Please message me if you want to be added to the taglist.
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sheluvv-gambino · 1 year
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First of all girl your stories me having me jumping off my bed and doin a little dance Fr anyways can you write Hobie x fem reader and she wants to get a nose piercing but it scared even though she has other piercings it just scares her that it’s in the front of her face
thanks and feel free to ignore 😘
"It's just you and me, lovey."
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A/N : I have a nose piercing myself and i WISH Hobie was with me when I got it. Also feel free to send any requests for Hobie I actually enjoy writing him, Its nice to take a break from writing the same character even though I litch adore both Miles.
Parings : Hobie Brown x black fem!reader
Summary : Hobie would be with you through every situation and yes, that even meant him piercing your nose.
Warnings : Needles.
"Y'know I just don't understand how hard it could be to cook one simple meal." Hobie grumbled watching the people on the tv fail to make a creme brulee.
You laughed at your boyfriends judgement of someones attempt at the dessert. You hooked your leg over Hobie's legs as you snuggled into his chest further.
You and Hobie were cuddled up on the couch as you watched the show that somehow enraged your boyfriend yet calmed him day after a day of patrolling around as spiderman.
As you were watching you noticed one of the contestants had a nose piercing. You'd always wanted one, esspecially since you shimmered with multiple piercings on your body. Hobie's personal favourites were the ones on your nipples and your back dermals. He made you very aware that those were his favourites!
You shifted your head to look up at Hobie,"Hey babe?."
"Y'alright darlin'?" Hobie looked down to meet your eyes.
"Yeah I was just thinking," You paused taking in a breath. "I think I want to get my nose pierced but I'm scared. I mean I've got loads of piercings, I just don't get why i'm being a little bitch about this!"
"Oil! Don't call my girlfiend a 'little bitch', alright? It's okay to stress over a piercing, I was scared when I got my nose pierced. I mean the way I was panicking was mad. You've got this, I know you do. I'll even do it myself." Hobie huffed after his small rant. He refused to let you talk bad about yourself in any situation.
"Okay. Do you mind if we do it now whilst I still have this adrenaline in me!?" You timidly asked with a small grin that graced your lips.
"Course we can, lov'." Your boyfriend gave you a kiss on your forehead then darted down to your lips where you gave him enough of a firm peck to feel his lip piercing on your bottom lip.
Hobie got up from the couch and briskly walked down to the left hallway.
Shortly, he returned with the kit he uses to pierce himself and sets it down on the counter.
He wouldn't trust anyone else to pierce your nose.
He walked over to you and grabbed you off the couch and effortlesly carried you over to counter where he gently places you down.
He spreads your legs and plants himself inbetween them.
"Ready to do this?"
"Wait, I don't know yet." You breathing increases and you feel Hobie's hand interlocked with yours.
"It's okay, we can slow down if you want to okay," Hobie reassures you. "It's just you and me, lovey."
Your breathing slows down back to a normal rate and you gesture for Hobie to continue with the piercing.
Hobie sanatizes his hands and pulls the fresh new needle out of the package.
"Ready?"
You nod with your mouth shut so you can focus on your breathing.
"1."
"2-"
Hobie didn't even wait for '3' let alone consider it. He knew if he just suprised you then letting you hear the countdown fully, you'd be calmer.
He pushed the needle in quickly then got your new nose piercing hooked in without even a sweat.
"Did you push the needle through yet?" You questioned with a squeek in your voice.
Hobie just chuckled.
"Open your eyes f'me, darlin'." Hobie pushed a small mirror with a handle into your hand.
You opened your eyes after having them squeezed shut for a split second. Your eye caught the jewelry that adorned your nose.
"Hobie!!" You squeeled putting the mirror down and jumping into Hobie's arms, forcing him to put his hands under your ass as you legs squeezed his waist.
"Yeah yeah , I gotta do what I have to to make my girl happy." Hobie shrugged of with his iconic smirk placed on his lips.
Little did you know when Hobie was giving you a pep talk, he lied to you.
Hobie wasn't even the least bit scared when he pierced his nose.
The man didnt even flinch, but if he had to make you think he was a pussy in that situation just so you wouldn't put yourself down for being a bit scared... he would do it any day.
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rainbowdaisy13 · 5 months
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TTPD The Anthology Summary Part 1 *IMO*
This is viewed through a queer lens because I believe she is fucking done playing nice so now she’s throwing it in our faces—FUCKING SEE ME
1) Fortnight—
I was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me/I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic
*MIGHTY GOD we start right out the gate sad as hell—no one noticed her queer flagging both quiet and loud and that pushed her from being a functioning alcoholic to a not functioning one. She then says to the fans who refused to acknowledge her truth “I hope that you’re ok but you’re the reason” FOR ME BEING INSANE
*Mentioning wanting to kill people that’s a first and I love it
*I love you it’s ruining my life OUCH 🤕 yes that sounds like something straight people deal with 😑
2) TTPD-
*I’m sorry I can’t remember what mutual said this, but I love love this as coming from Karlie’s perspective. It absolutely fits. She ground Taylor in a way no one else can
*First mention of suicide—both can’t live without the other
*Were crazy—owning the demons together
*The wedding ring line—GOD
3) MBOBHFT—
*I see this one as Taylor viewing herself as a commodity, also as someone who is broken and needs to be fixed so that she remains lovable. It also gives me Cardigan vibes without the redemption arc
4) Down Bad—
*Love this Alien Abduction theme. Melody is even spacey sounding. The entire song uses alien motifs and I adore it. Fave line “they’ll say I’m nuts if I talk about the existence of you” Brilliant 👽 Also the concept of an Out of this World Love
5) So Long London—
*Cool opening—beautiful when they layer her own voice
How much sad did you think I had in me? 😫
*I see this song as a My Tears Ricochet 2. Taylor giving all her youth to someone for free. You say I abandon the ship but I was going down with it—I truly believe she tried and begged them to let her come out for years and she was always shot down—2 graves 1 gun, more murder imagery
*So Long London, so long Big Machine
6) BDILH—
Absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking song
These people only raise you to cage you 😫
*Sarahs and Hannahs/braided hair/church/Elders making decisions—giving cult/LDS vibes
Stay away from her -Elders are yelling this—to who? Taylor? So Taylor needs to stay away from HER interesting
*Shed rather burn it all down than listen to them complain about her sexuality and how it impacts them
My good name, it’s mine alone to disgrace —absolutely shots fired at Scott Swift
*Soliloquies line is incredible—“I’ll never see” is such a burn 😆
*This isn’t a phase, this is who she is!!
*YOU AINT GOTTA PRAY FOR ME!! GET THEM ALL BITCH—SHOW THEIR ASSES
*This is my choice!!
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GET 👏🏼 THEM 👏🏼 ALL
NO YOU CANT COME TO THE WEDDING PERIOD
7) FOTS—
*Pretty Baby, much like Babydoll is reserved for women and gay men and theys and thems. We don’t call straight men this 😒
*Fresh out the slammer—realllly trying to get these idiots to understand that she’s felt jailed /caged/trapped
My friends…Watch me daily disappearing 😫 fuck
Wearing Imaginary rings 😫😫😫 Says hello to paper rings says hello to imaginary lockets
*It’s gonna be alright she did her time!! 🥹
8) FLORIDA!!!—
I adore this song—my second fave on the album and absolute fucking banger. So glad Florence agreed to this they makes an amazing duo vocally—main vibes—Florida is the place Taylor wants to go to fucking escape the mess she lives in day to day. Anything goes, everyone is there hiding from something—the law, family, winter—nothing is too weird or unaccepted—and a certain someone has a house there 😎
My friends all smell like weed or little babies 😆
Florence’s verse is chefs kiss—Earl had to die vibes, watching bodies sink into the swamp, just full on misandry I LOVE IT—is that a bad thing to say in a song?? 😆 GET THEM ALL
Also I bet this song made Swifties uncomfortable 😆
FUCK ME UP FLORIDA 🤘🏼🤘🏿🤘🏾
9) Guilty as sin?
The Gay Longing/Gay Sex Song
*Another* suicide reference—but she’s just joking right swifities?
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👀
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No no that’s fine she just described an orgasm and if she’s not touching the person, let’s assume the pic below ⬇️ is like HEY THIS IS THE SEX IM SPEAKING ABOUT—it’s very much giving The Man pose for getting dome👀
And then the Jesus reference is just chefs kiss—gay sex is seen as sin and unholy by idiots and she said ok then bitch, what if I tell you the sex is so good we ARE what’s holy??
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👀
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She literally said messy top lip kiss and got away with it like 😆😆😆😆😆😆😆
10) WAOLOM—
I just……this may be my favorite song of hers ever. It’s absolutely incredible in its intensity, rawness, and truth as well as being a banger
Every lyric screams her pain
My bare hands paved their path/you don’t get to tell me about sad/ If you wanted me dead you should’ve just said
I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street —Witch Imagery again!!
WHOSE AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME
👹YOU SHOULD BE 👹
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Shots fired again at Scott Swift!! Let’s hear one more joke—they mocked her pain because they truly thought they could convince her she wasn’t gay 🫥
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GODDDD 😫
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Put narcotics into all of my songs—“a drug or other substance that affects mood or behavior and is consumed for nonmedical purposes, especially one sold illegally—a drug that relieves pain and induces drowsiness, stupor, or insensibility”
SHE SAID I HAVE TO USE MALE PRONOUNS AND FAKE REFERENCES TO MEN IN MY LYRICS SO YOU IDIOTS STAY STUPID AND HAPPY
and that’s why you’re still singing along 😎
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Just WOW
Brilliant and Heartbreaking and RAW
🤍🤍🤍 We love you Girl 🤍🤍🤍
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gilbirda · 8 months
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My (subjective) thoughts on how to survive corporate hell while being younger than 30
I'm 27 and I've been working in corporate office job since I was 23 and I have some advice for any youngster out there feeling unsure if they can even make it in office corporate jobs while being younger than 40.
Don't reveal info about yourself. Craft a superficial version of yourself you can share with peers. Pick a hobby or two and repeat the same speech about what you do for fun. Points if you do something people would remember - everyone says sports and/or traveling. Say something original, but safe.
Your company is not your family. You don't owe them a minute more or less than what says in your contract. You are not less if you refuse to work unpaid extra hours. If they demand that of you, get that in writing and take that shit straight to HR.
Know your rights. If you have paid time off, you are entitled to those days off. I'm european so I have a lot of them, and my company is ALWAYS asking me if "I'm sure I can leave my team down for so long". Bitch I can take the days off whenever I want, is my right. The fact that I'm not taking them in the busiest times is a courtesy.
Be careful with what you say. Everyone will be nice, but not everyone is your friend. Some people would sell you for a potato chip, and finding out who would is vital for your survival. (Hint: if someone spills tea about other people to you, they will spill YOUR tea to other people).
Offices are just like high school. Rumors can and will spread like wildfire.
Another "high school" office cliché: cliques. Yes. Same dynamics will form and identifying them will make things easier. My favorite clique to observe is the people that are shooting for the stars and are always around the Biggest Boss licking their shoes. They will also be the first to speak about how a company project improves their personal life because their personal life and work life is one and the same and they ADORE the company.
Being young can play to your advantage. You are fresh and new, and most of the corporate toxic behaviors won't apply to you by default - but Watch Out, they will also underestimate you and dismiss your opinions. Is a constant battle and a delicate dance.
You Will Be Adopted. That's fact. Be quick to learn who exactly is trying to put you under their wing, and if you are comfortable with that dynamic. It mostly depends on what kind of career you want to make in the company - want to climb higher? Stick with the boot lickers (they will introduce you to Important People); want to be up to date with all the gossip? Attach yourself to the Nice Lady Everyone Tell Their Secrets To. Etc.
I cannot stress this enough: Don't say names. On top of everything else in this list, don't say a single name unless you are absolutely sure you are in a safe space. Names have power, and if you complain about someone and say their name, that will have consequences. Maybe that person will learn you are talking shit, or maybe you will unknowingly make a political stance depending on who you are complaining about, maybe you are implying someone is bad at their job.
Don't assume that young people are your friend. This is a tough one I had to learn, but at the end of the day we are all surviving. Other young people will understand you and stick with you, but if an opportunity opens they will take it without saying goodbye. Or they have other priorities and career expectations and just... not be your friend after all. Not because you are also younger than 30 it means you are besties.
You will be bombarded with boomers and gen Xers talking about "the old days" and "how before things were better". That if you "just worked hard enough the company repays you" and such. Ignore them. Corporate job is not what it was, this isn't the old days anymore. Getting in is not as easy and it used to be, the salary doesn't last as much as it used to be and the productivity demanded is higher than ever. Ignore them. Most of them have been pushing buttons for 30 years and wouldn't understand the hellscape the world is becoming in the last 20 years.
You have to accept the reality that none of your 45+ years old coworkers are as qualified as you. The requirements for regular entry level corporate jobs now are insane, and "back in the day" you just had to show up and have a nice smile. Yes, it sucks. Yes, higher ups are the least qualified. Crazy.
Learn how to talk corporate. Learn how to say no, how to set down boundaries, how to politely ask for help. Normal people talk will instantly work against you because you are young. Talk like them and they'll listen.
This got away from me but eh.
Disclaimer this is just based on my experience and my culture - I live in Spain, Europe. I tried to keep this general, but I understand there's a bunch of social dances and understandings that are unique to my culture and may not apply to other people.
I am also autistic and I understand that it affects how I experience social contracts and behaviors.
This is just the bunch of rules I live by and I'm doing my best at surviving. I'm not a corporate rat and if I didn't need money to exist I would definitely quit, but I can't deny I have learned a lot.
If someone has more advice to add please do!
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
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That was really sad man. But it did get me wondering, what type of pokemon would Emily have? Maybe a Togekiss? (I'm loving this pokemon AU)
gods. combine "what pokemon would Emily have" with the fan idea of her eventually ending up in HELL and you can get
-> Chaggie's Absol starts being very interested in Emily during heaven / hell meetings and Emily is SO flattered and delighted she doesn't stop to think why maybe this disaster sensing pokemon is suddenly into her
Charlie does see the warning signs but she's not gonna believe in another bad thing so soon nope, she's very determinedly like "I think it's cute! It can just be a cute thing! Absol is allowed to make normal friends!!" while Vaggie goes "uh oh" and "sure sweetie" and sends the Absol up with Emily at the end of the next meeting- getting very VERY worried when the Absol actually GOES with the seraph no problem...
(plus side Pentious gets to visit and cuddle the old Absol buddy without it being an omen of his impending death yay)
-something something something Emily uses the Absol and Vaggie's observations of them showing up in Pride specifically for Extermination Day as another proof what heaven is doing is WRONG and BAD and needs to stop, something something Lute can't take a Seraphim actually "betraying" heaven by siding fully with hell like this- REALLY can't stand Vaggie being brought up and used against her again, something something the Absol warns Emily of the attack just in time to save MOST of her wings, something, Lute gets sword blocked by the Absol long enough for seraph Emily to get over her shock and one hit K.O. her out of the fight, something, a horrified Sera wants to find a way to heal Emily but also thinks she has to keep her little sister out of sight from heaven until then to not cause more harm (or Raise Questions), and Emily is like, Thanks But Fuck That And Fuck You Too
she ends up in hell (with her remaining wings) not long after Chaggie's Absol first started being friends with her and instead of casting blame she just LOVES the Absol all the more for helping make sure she got down there as safely as she did
Vaggie isn't one bit jealous when the Absol sticks with Emily instead of going back to following Vaggie around. Her own scars have healed up quite a bit- Emily's are fresh- Vaggie knows the feeling
Charlie looks on the bright side and notes that the impromptu haircut Lute gave the Absol with her sword while it was trying to keep her from Emily kinda makes the Absol LOOK like Emily now, with bangs and everything, which is ADORABLE and deserving of SO many cute pictures being taken!
(no Charlie won't be crying in her gf's shoulder about all this) (no she won't blame herself for it a little) (yes she WILL need to be physically held back next time she sees Lute- she held herself back before out of respect for Vaggie's choice to let Lute live but now Vaggie's gonna have to do that in real life bc Fuck That Bitch) (Vaggie will hold Charlie back for Charlie's sake alone bc Vaggie will be twice damned if Lute will be the reason her gf finally does a murder) (save it for Val) (she'll kill Lute herself before she let's Lute have the satisfaction of being that kind of scar on Charlie's soul)
Anyway!!!!
befriending Absol is wonderful for Emily and, almost, makes up for leaving her Togekiss behind in heaven....
...Togekiss don't like being around conflict or war, it was clearly bracing itself to go to hell with Emily but- Emily couldn't stomach doing that to her pokemon pal
She leaves it with Pentious, hoping it can help him stay safe up in heaven, and after looking up what Togekiss evolves from (the egg-like Togepi) Pentious tears up remembering his Egg Bois and sobs and curls his whole snake body around the Togekiss SWEARING to defend it with hisssss new life!!! Some old echo of Togokiss's old kindness sensing Togetic form kicks in and it immediately bonds with with Pentious It's a happy bittersweet thing for Emily to watch happen right before she leaves, and her last view of heaven is watching her (now clearly his) Togekiss help keep Pentious airborne like a living floatation device as he awkwardly tries flapping his new wings and waving goodbye at Emily at the same time
(Lute is NOT happy finding out the filthy Sinner infiltrator is being guarded by a pokemon capable of such powerful attacks now. She'd gone to a lot of trouble getting Togekiss AWAY from Emily before trying to get the jump on the traitorous Seraph, but now everyone is on their guard, and Vaggie's damn Absol ruined everything, and Pentioius's new Togekiss is JUST as cheerfully passive aggressively smug as Emily was. Which is INFURIATING)
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you don’t understand the absolute rage i get when i open the comments to one of the dror cast’s tiktoks and all i see is little bitches saying “i miss the og cast!!” “og is better!!” “you’re replacing the og cast!!” SHUT UP AND GROW THE EVERLIVING UPPP
like i get it. i like the old cast too, i think they did absolutely amazing, BUT STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT IT TO THE DROR CAST?? IT IS NOT THAT HARD TO NOT WATCH THE FUCKING MOVIE.
and i again get it, it may not be the same without cameron or the old cast, that’s perfectly fine to admit, but i like to think that’s the entire point. it’s for the next generation, it’s meant to be NEW and FRESH and DIFFERENT. they’re not gonna keep repeating the same three movies over and over again just cause you wanna bitch about it.
it is quite literally meant to be the way it is. and i’ve seen people try and use cameron as an excuse to be whiny babies?? do NOT use cameron’s passing as an excuse to whine and bitch and moan about things that may not be meant for YOU. if you don’t like it, then it is not about YOU. leave him out of it, stop thinking it’s okay to use his passing as an excuse, and let him rest in PEACE.
i think it’s perfectly fine to dislike the movie, i personally can see why you would, but come up with a different fucking excuse instead of sounding like hypocrites and thinking it’s meant for you and only you because you watched the first three movies. as someone who grew up on descendants and absolutely adored it, i’m extremely glad that they did rise of red. i don’t see a problem with it especially since they honored cameron, which i highly expected them to do and i was pleased.
my only problem is that you keep bitching about it to the YOUNG cast members. it is not their fault they decided to make a fourth movie. go bitch about it to the disney tiktok account, just leave the dror cast OUT OF IT.
i’m not saying you have to like it. i’m not saying you can’t dislike it. all i’m saying is you need to pick a fucking lane. either you spend the rest of your life bothering (mostly) minors for no reason since you have nothing else to do with your life, OR, the better option, you can grow up, not watch the movie, and live out the rest of your days being happy and watching the old movies to your liking.
i really don’t care which you pick, my main point is that the dror cast have NOTHING to apologize for and if you think it’s okay to make them feel that way, you’re in desperate need of a lobotomy and shock therapy.
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