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#theres thoughts they're just all over the place
princekirijo · 1 year
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Watching Spiderverse again and god Gwen's whole character arc fucks me UP someone give that girl a hug PLEASE
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allthegothihopgirls · 9 months
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'going to georgia' by the mountain goats but it's about lee everett during twdg s1
#.#i don't have the energy to explain myself on this one#i have a lot of complex thoughts about this that i dont think i can fully articulate rn#twdg#lee everett#oh actually im going to elaborate on one part of this because i might forget#the whole 'crossing the macon county line' repeating part of the song#lee grew up in macon#and i like the emphasis in the song of not just travelling to georgia#but having to go through macon to be there#(having to get over a hurdle to get somewhere)#and to lee the first time they go to macon after the apocalypse begins. thats still his home.#but by the time he leaves and they're back on their way to their final destination#hes gotten closure. and knows that place itsnt him anymore#but yeah theres that one part in the song where it replaces the macon line#with “this is nowhere. going to georgia”. which would be him letting go of macon. and all of his past. focusing on his current self + goal#and with all the verses and everything#i like to think that clementine. whilst softening him up as person#also makes lee unbind himself from his past. most of which he stores in macon#because of not only growing up there#but also feeling the guilt of showing up there again after his conviction#because that was the only place he could still call home#and knowing every good memory he had left was tainted with that one mistake. because all he had nothing else but his home#so yeah. after the apocalypse. before he got the closure in macon#that was the one place he had unfinished business. and its what was holding him back#so being able to say#he's simply 'crossing the macon county line' in the end. not even regarding it as nowhere. regarding it for what it was.#is monumental#even more#its not acknowledging that macon is a place of negative significance for him
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sebastian solace x reader? Anyone?
too bad :P
Sebastian Solace X Reader
Genre: Fluff, Found family
Warnings: None
Summary: After having been thrown into this hellhole, at an unreasonably young age, you find yourself trying to accomplish the task at hand; Find the Crystal. Whilst you are on your journey, you encounter a rather large angler man.
Author note: oh tod he's so dreamy guys. ALSO !! i made the reader into this sort of introvert where they're like "oh god people" kind? Not the "Oh no! People :(" kind of introvert. Reader is 14 by the way !!!!!
(spot the poppy playtime reference MEHEHRMRBR)
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Screaming of an unknown enemy closes in quickly. Wanting to avoid certain death, you dive into a locker you made sure wasn't inhabited. It's screaming grows louder, tormenting your eardrums. You can't help but bring your hands to shield your ears from potential deafness and pain, a factor you wouldn't want in this place.
Hearing the screeching Angler pass it's way through, you burst out of the locker to cough out your lungs. The amount of dust your poor, overworking lungs hacked up was nowhere near healthy. Dust, grime and sweat had been imbedded into your diving suit, gross. You hope theres an open hole leading to underwater diving that would be able to wash away all the sweat and dirt off of your body.
Maybe, just maybe, if I'm able to get that crystal, and get out of this place... I can go home.
Home? Is that even a place anymore? Maybe it's the fact that the human mind finds so many things to cling onto when faced with impending death. One last hope to hold close. An unknown family, friends and maybe even a potential lover you could of had the chance to grow old with, and had many laughs in the house you grew up in. That... Sounds like paradise, but you are far away from that dream, the bile and sweat sticking to your swimsuit, a threat. Escaping this place is only a small plea, begging for anyone to hear your cries. To anyone, who could give you that boost to keep going.
'Door 46, am I almost halfway through?' You're surprised you even managed to get to 40, surely there's a surprise around the corner? A potential medkit would be fantastic. Your vitals read 35, that's nowhere near good. Batteries? Your lantern could use it. You only have enough to accompany your lone self through an empty, cold... Dark place.
The swirling thoughts in your head only manage to cease after encountering the door that finally indicates you are halfway through this hellhole. Door 50.
The dripping of a broken pipe drives you insane, every drop makes your fight or flight activate. The rapid pitter patter of your feet scurry to the next door, automatically sliding open once it knows there is a human presence.
The next room, however, is dimly lit. Two portable lights shining in the direction of a vent. How... Interesting? Is this where you need to crawl into? Your thoughts are quickly misguided as a gruff voice emits from the emit, earning a harsh flinch from you in response.
"Hey, stranger. Over here." This voice calls out to you, alluring your oh so close demise.
You have the thought to immediately scurry to the door, not wanting to take your chances. Fight or flight? Flight, surely. Your sweaty palms land on the door with a soft thud, realising that the only way out of this room requires a keycard. A code breacher is out of the question, seeing as you hold no such thing on you.
"Don't be so scared... I don't bite. Maybe." He utters that last part quietly, making a chill run up your spine. Will you really have to find out if this is something that will rip your spine out? But... It's the most friendly voice you've heard in hours, aside from the other angry prisoners from earlier that practically took everything you scavenged.
Investigating the vent, you crouch down to a level where it's most easy to be able to crawl in through. The size of the vent is no problem for you, since you are a 14 year old who could easily slot your way through tightly fit ventilation systems, or a blocked room.
Albeit, the diving gear on your back made it just a tad bit challenging to slide through, it was an easy feat. Your eyes dart from each side of the room, looking for the one who'd voiced out their friendliness. You definitely weren't expecting a 10ft terrifying Angler humanoid.
"Welcome, welcome! Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Sebastian, your only friend."
... With teeth. Sharp ones.
"Now, I'm betting that your supervisors gave you instructions to acquire a certain orange coloured crystal, no?" He words out with a certain amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Supervisors? You're only 14.
"However— Oh." He stops, suddenly. Normally, he wasn't one to take in the appearance of a fellow prisoner, seeming as it 'deemed unnecessary.' You, were younger. A lot younger than he expected.
"What the.. What the hell's Urbanshade doing sending kids down here...?" He was muttering to himself, his hand reaching up. Thinking that he was about to grab you, you recoil in fear. You find however, that your fear is misguided and that he'd only brought up one of his three hands to grab his chin in thought.
It had been a good 7 hours since you'd spoken last, other than the occasional screaming and crying. Your throat, croaks out at first which earns a cringe from yourself.
"I'm 14. I'm not a kid." Your throat feels like it was tortured from the amount of screeching you'd emitted running away from Anglers, and threats. That stupid Wall Dweller was one of those threats.
At your response, he chuckles amusingly. Sebastian finds your bravery endearing for someone your age. "Haha, alright. You're not a kid. What's someone your age doing here anyway?" He voices.
Observing the place, you talk as you walk around to analyse your surroundings, finding this small talk pointless.
"They threw me in here, I was trying to find my mum. Told me she'd be in here, just need to get a crystal first. Then they'd take me to her."
....
An uncomfortable silence passed by, before he frowned at you.
"are you that gullable? Thought 14 year olds were supposed to be semi intelligent." That earned a slap from you onto his tail. He hisses at the contact.
"Ow! Fuck, you little..." He hisses.
"You deserved that. She was here last, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Shut up, and give me your ware so I can get out of this shithole." You were obviously pissed, upset that the 10ft Angler guy offered no solace. (haha get it?)
"Alright, alright. That was a fault on my part, just.... Why did they throw you in here? You can't be here. You can't stay. Look, kid. I know they told you that your mother was here somewhere, and if she was then she's gone now. She probably made it back up to the surface." Though you narrow your eyes, you can sense a hint of comfort in those words. You can tell, he's genuinely worried about you.
Sebastian see's many people come and go, only to see that they inevitably meet their dark fate. He hopes, that this won't be the case with you.
"..Look. Urbanshade doesn't tell the truth, they lie to get what they want. I'm sorry to be the one that breaks it to you, but your mother was used as a false hope to get you down here. The more hands they have on the mission, the bigger the possibility to get the crystal. Take it from someone like me." he'd muttered that last part, he can understand your situation.
Urbanshade had lied to him too, told him that his Freedom would be granted. He just need to pay a price first. Be their puppet, be their experiment.
Sweat beaded down your face, this isn't what you wanted to hear. Had they really lied to you? Used you as a move like chess on a board? Sebastian can see your distress. How you came to the conclusion that he was indeed right, even if your mother was here... She would be nowhere to be found.
why were you even here?
Sebastian knows you can't be sent back up, Urbanshade will track your location and come to the conclusion that you're heading back. They would blow you to smithereens because of the bomb device around your neck. You're obviously too young to continue this harsh journey to ensure your families existence. A 14 year old shouldn't have to die in an agonizing way, especially when they're so young and have a life ahead of them. shit.
He really has no choice, does he?
"Agghh.... Fine!! Fine fine. You, are gonna stay here with me. Capish?" He inquires, your head shakes fervently. Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, wanting to reject this idea. He stops you before even a single word can come from your mouth.
"Don't worry about the crystal. Urbanshade will send more prisoners to do their dirty work. I'll get you food, and that damn collar off of your neck. Other than that, stay here. You'll be safe with me, and I will try and find out as much of your mother as I can. I trade these supplies for the data you come across. I should surely have one of your mother." Every single thing he says has you shaking your head. But, deep down... You know he'll be the closest thing that leads you to your mother.
"Oh. What's your name kid?"
...
"[Name]."
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ALRIFHT so im done !!!! if this actually goes viral i will actually turn this into a full blown story on Ao3. pls comment and let me know if you want more of the family trope with Sebastian cause we just don't see enough.
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Part 2 is out now!
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scribbles-ink · 11 months
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im just thinking what if mike schmidt is the son of the movie's equivalent of henry emily. i had this thought on the way home from the movie at like. 10 pm so at the time it was incoherrent, but im going to expand on it here.
point 1- garrett played a similar role to charlie emily, in that despite being watched over they were both killed by william afton.
p2- in the flashbacks, its very obvious that the entire family is in a place away from society. they're literally in a forest. it wouldn't make sense for william of all people to be there if he wasn't close to the family.
p3- the books and the game mirror eachother, so there is a chance that schmidt could be another fake name, one william recognized because, again, he was a family friend.
p4-what happens when your kid goes missing? idk probaly witness protection or an urge to seperate yourself from the incident, both reasons for the name change.
p5-(kinds joke reason) abby rhymes with charlie and looks similar to her (brown hair, brown eyes)
p6-i argue that abby also took on the role of the puppet/charlie at the end of the movie. she didn't necessarily give them life, not like what was done in the game, she shoeed them how they died. she reminded the children of the life they had before, and of who really took it. by doing that, in a way, she gave them that life back. she gave them their real personality back, one not influenced by william. she cut them from his influence, she gave them the gift (the picture) and it gave them life (their memories)
p7- in the movie, mike says his father 'couldnt deal with it' and left after his mother died. yk what that sounds similar to? book henry emily killing himself in despair. maybe mike's dad is alive maybe he's dead, we dont know. but it is similar enough, an act of completely removing himself from the equation.
p8-book henry has a sister named jen, yk what name that sounds like? jane. who was mike and abby's aunt, and we dont know which parent she was related to.
p9-'but wouldn't mike know about the pizzaria if william was a family friend?' honestly, probably. but theres also a high chance that he wouldnt. if the family lived in nebraska, (which im pretty sure they did) they wouldn't have a need to go to utah, not even for a friend's restaurant. sure, he might know that his dad's friend had a restaurant, but not that it had animatronics or anything. the family probaly moved to utah after garrett's disappearance and after freddy's closed down.
p10-'wouldn't mike know vanessa? theyre similar in age' if they didnt live in the same state, probaly not. william in the movie was a, suprise suprise, shitty father, even foregoing the stabbing of his kid. i doubt hed care enough to take her with him on like. a short out of state trip.
p11(edit)- in the books aunt jane was killed by evil charlie to get to charlie, yk what that sounds like? the animatronics killing aunt jen to get to charlie
p12(edit)-the words at the end of the movie say 'come find me' and the music playong at the end is the puppets song so i think garrett is the puppet which is. again. an emily thing
p13(edit)- mikes dad looks like a mechanic shown in the training videos [cough henry emily cough]
if i think of anything else ill add it but anywys this is why i think the schmidts in the movie are the emilys equivalent. also check out the notes on this post because theres a lot of replies n reblogs that support my theory
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smuthospital · 1 year
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⭐️Yandere Gym Buddy⭐️
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Premise: You made a new friend at the gym, and he is determined to make sure you get a good pump.
Warning: Non-con, fem reader
Minors DNI
Working out with you is almost too much. You're cute, smaller body is too much. The way you look up at him and thank him when he takes the weight off you when you push your body to failure. The way you whimper when you can't do one more rep. He first saw you looking at a machine for biceps and you seemed ok, but your form could be a bit better so he decided he'd help you by correcting it.
The next time he saw you, you were trying a bicep workout, but you were lifting too heavy and it was messing up your form. Proper form is essential to any excersize and without it, you could risk pulling a muscle. He couldnt just stand by and let you do that so he became your gym buddy whenever he spotted you.
You always look so nervous when he talks to you. You can't even maintain eye contact, but when you do, you look up at him and smile sheepishly. It warms his heart. You thanked him for helping you with your workout and walked on your mary way.
He smiled and continued on with his until he saw you patiently waiting for him to finish his set from the corner of his eye. You're blushing all cute and averting eyes again. He takes out his earbud and looks over at you. "I-I feel like I didn't properly thank you before so thank you again. I really appreciate your help," You say, becoming cherry red by the end.
He wants to just pick you up and take you home. You're like a cute little bunny. He's a respectful guy so he's only ever looked at your body in the places he needs to for your form, but he'd be lying if he said they never drifted to other places. From your sweet-looking neck to the curve of your back, all the way down to your cute butt.
The way your workout clothes fit your body so tight in all the right places. He wonders if you want the attention. When you wear crop tops...or when he's lucky and you wear your super short shorts. The ones that barely cover your...He shakes his head. He can't get hard in the gym again. "No problem. You're very polite, you know," He says. You knod your head in thanks.
You scamper off to go do cute girl things, probably. He hopes you don't have a boyfriend. Actually, theres no way you do. No man would let a girl like you out of their site. Especially in a testosterone filled gym. And talk to other guys? No way. If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be fighting him right now.
If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be laying on the ground, broken and defeated, bleeding from every orifice. He clenches his fists, his veins protruding. He'd lay the bastard the fuck out without a second of hesitation. No mercy and no reasoning. He finishes his workout with more vigour than usual.
The next time he spotted you at the gym, he saw some guy about to walk up to you. They're like fucking flies. This is the third one this week. He speeds up his pace and gets to you first before the fly could get its chance. The other guy turns tail immediately, confusing you because it looked like he'd wanted to talk to you.
"Hey, nice to see you again," he says, smiling that usual charming smile. 'The ladies probably go nuts for this guy,' you thought. "Nice to see you too!" Your voice is so sweet. It's like honey. He's memorized the texture of your sound. "Your arms look really good," you say, your face completely red. That came out of nowhere. He wonders how long you've been working up the courage to say that to him. He chuckles and flexes. "Thank you, I'm very proud of them."
He swears he could eat you up. Just the way you look at his body, whether it be in admiration or otherwise, it's all the same to him. "Do you want to get protein shakes after this? I can make them really tasty." You're going. Whether you like it or not.
"Oh..uhm, you don't have to! I don't know much bout protein anyway," you say nervously. Bingo. "Protein is incredibly important for helping you repair your muscles after you work hard at the gym!" He knows he's gonna convince you.
"O-oh, really? I didn't know that. If it's that important, ok then." You look off to the side, unsure about going to a mans house. He's feeling cuteness aggression. He wants to hug you and squeeze you so badly. His hands twitch, fighting the urdge to do so. He has to look away when you're doing a tough workout.
Watching sweat drip down your face is captivating. He imagines that face when he's alone in his apartment at night, his cock in hand. He just wants to lay you down on your back with him in between your legs...his thoughts wander too much. "Great, you'll love it!" He could'nt be more pleased with himself.
After you both finished, he waits for you outside the changing room. He was so giddy. He loves looking down at you..and seeing your cute little wonderous eyes looking up at him, like a confused little bunny. He takes your hand and leads you out to his car. You blush furiously at the contact. You get in the passenger seat and he drives you back to his place.
It's a really nice and expensive looking apartment building. Modern and well kept. It even has a gym inside. You wonder why he travels to yours. He takes you up to his apartment and you gasp. "It's so big!" He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining those words in a different context. "I'm excited to try the protein shake," you say, snapping him out of his fuzzy daze.
"Ah yes." He takes you over to his spottless kitchen and takes out a blender, some bananas, protein powder, peanut butter and milk. You lean over the counter to peer at what he's doing. Hes really good at making protein shakes. You wonder if he can cook aswell. You wouldn't be surprised. While you're lost in though, he has the perfect view of your cleavage. He bites his lip. Fuck. He feels his dick twitch to life.
He groans. He's been trying not to get hard this whole day. Good thing you're behind the counter. He pours the smoothies into two cups, his being larger because you dont need as much protein as he does. He manages to hide is boner well enough to make his way over to his living room with your cups.
He hands you yours after taking a seat, making sure to place a pillow in his lap. You take a sip. He loves the way your mouth opens and the way you lick your lips of the sweet drink. Fuck. He downs his and watches you. "Hey, so I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to hang out..outside the gym again sometime?" he asks, looking hopeful.
"Oh..uh," you thought he wasn't interested in you! You were sure of it! He's too handsome for you! He's way out of your league. You've never been romanticaaly interested in him. You know your place. You just get really nervous and shy around pretty people. He's an extremely athletic man and you're a snail in comparrison! You're not even looking for a relationship right now! This is a nightmare! You just wanted to focus on yourself. That's why you started going to the gym.
Oh god, what do you do!? You stare at your drink for a while, the silence thickening by the second. "I...uh...." You want to go home and hide under your sheets. How will you ever face him again? It's over. No more gym buddy. He looks down at you, his smile and hopeful eyes fading. You... don't want him. You don't want him!? But...he's perfect for you...and you for him!
He doesn't understand why you could possibly ever not want to be with him. He wordlessly puts his cup down. You just need some convincing is all. You look up at him. He can see emotions swirling around in your eyes. He stands up to his full height, casting a shadow over you. "(Y/n),... change your mind." His tone is eerily calm.
"But...I wanna focus on.. myself-" He cuts you off. "No! I will focus on you. That's what you need. I will take care of you. I'm dedicated to you. It has to be claer by now that I want you." He takes the cup from your hands and sets it down before pulling you up by your arm and forcing you deeper into the apartment.
"Huh? What? N-no, where are we going? Stop! I wanna go home!" You cry, trying to struggle out of his grip, the grip of the arms four times the size of yours. You notice now just how big he is. Hes...massive. Taller than most men...broad shoulders, a large frame, and incredibly muscular. Your face pails. You... can't stop him. You were right to be nervous to come here!
He drags you into his room, making you sit on his bed. He doesn't open the lights, but from the moonlight shining in from the window, you can see the glinting of his hungry eyes looking down at you. His chest heaves. He feels fuzzy and lightheaded as he looks down at you...all his blood...has shot right down to his cock.
He can't think of anything but the way your thighs meet at that special crevice that he wants to explore. You're probably still sweaty from the workout... he's trembling at the thought of your soft body pressed against his toned self.
He pushes your upper body down a bit too hard and splits your legs apart, settling himself between them before leaning down. Your faces so close. You turn your face away, which just makes him get even closer to you, his nose touching your cheek, his breath fanning over you. With him in between your legs, you can feel the heat emanating from his crotch as it presses into yours. You whimper under him and he groans a bit. His cock has never been so engored before. Its unbarable.
"Please...take off your clothes...I don't want to hurt you on accident," he breathes, using all the remaining blood in his head to think straight, trying to control himself. You shake your head. "I-I can't!" Not a second after you speak, his hands grip your poor clothes and rip them to shreds like paper. He's wanted to do that to your workout clothes for a long time. They were always taunting him with the way they squeeze your ass or the way your pussy shows through the crotch area a bit when you're bent.
You suck in a breath to scream, hoping one of his neighbors would hear you, but he covers your mouth with his palm just in time, muffling your cry. "Shhh shhh... it's ok shh. I've got you," he coos, trying to calm you. Your chest heaves up and down as tears stream down your cheeks. Your face feels like its burning.
He replaces his hand with his lips and kisses you gently. You continue sobbing quietly into the kiss, not wanting any of this. He doesn't cover your mouth after he lifts his lips from yours. Hope for getting another opportunity dies within you as he stuffs your underwear into your mouth and ties it shut with the drawstring of his shorts tightly behind your head.
He kisses your cheek and stays right there for a moment, just breathing in your scent. You decide now is a good time to at least try fighting him with everything you've got. You headbutt him in the face, sending his head back a bit. He grunts in pain and looks back at you with a blaze in his eyes. A trickle of blood escapes his nose. He wipes it off with the back of his hand. He shuts his eyes for a second, trying to maintain his patience. He sighs. He's trying his hardest to be nice with you.
He places a finger on your chin, turning you to face him. When you refuse to face him and turn your head in defiance, he grips your cheeks roughly and forces you to face him. His eyes are stern. "Bunny, I don't want to hurt you." Is all he says. You dont take his threat lightly. He looks more than happy to actually hurt you. You don't believe for a second that he's being honest about not wanting to hurt you.
He lowers his shorts with his free hand, taking your silence as compliance. You see the bulge in his shorts reveal itself to be a monstrous size when free. It's..scary. It slams against your bare pussy lips. It's heavy, thick and demanding attention. It's veiny underside is burning you.
You swallow hard, trying to wiggle out from underneath it. You don't make it far trapped beneath him with nowhere to go. Your hands are free, but every time you try to do anything, he swats them away and.. after his previous threat, you don't want to know what will happen if you annoy him enough.
His hand comes down to your cunt and plays with your lower lips. He releases your face, knowing you'll behave. You writhe underneath him, pathetically kicking and pushing at his hand down there. His other hand grabs your wrist and and squeezes it and a painful grip, looking dead in your eyes as he continues to play with your cunt.
Another tear slips down your cheek. He softens his grip a bit before leaning down to kiss your tears away. Your tear-stained face, the way you whimper and your face scrunches in discomfort..is doing things to him. He's learned something new about himself just now. He wants to be inside you so bad, but he knows he'd tear you in two, even with all his precum.
Your gasp as he flicks your sensitive pearl. He can't help but chuckle. Without any warning, he slips his index finger inside your cunt and relishes in the warm wetness hugging it tightly. He just wants you wet enough to take him without too much pain. He just needs to be more patient, but... it's so hard with you making all those cute expressions.
"Pleath shtop..I..." The muffled words you were trying to produce disappear in a cloud of smoke as he curls his finger upwards into your spongy walls. Fuck. He loves when you beg him to stop. You moan so cutely. Your pussy twitches around him. He bites his lip. You're.. wet enough. It's fine, it'll fit. He can't wait anymore.
He lines his fat cock up with your cunt and slides it up and down your shimmering folds. "W-wai-" He cuts you off by sliding the head of his cock in. It's so fucking tight. He grunts and can't help but sink himself further in. He feels like he's going mad.
He bucks his hips forward, meeting resistance. Your cervix. He pushes forward still, eventually managing to bottom out, the shape of his cock making an appearance in your lower stomach. Your cunt needs to know his shape for next time. It's a good thing he stuffed your mouth because you've been screaming and crying like crazy. "I'm sorry, bunny. I didn't mean to hurt you. I got a bit ahead of myself. I'll be more gentle." He kisses your nose, his cock driving in and out slowly.
You're sopping wet now, the two of you can hear your insides gushing when he pushes in. You're so embarrassed. The pleasure is undeniable. You scratch his back as he pressed in again, his hips meeting yours snuggly. You can't hold it anymore! you let out a long whine as you cum, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He moans, driving his cock in and out, rapidly pounding your cunt into a fine paste. You come down from your high as he's still churning your insides and cry out again. You're too sensitive now!
You tap on his shoulder, but it garners no response. He lifts your legs and presses them back into your chest, getting even deeper. He's pounding into you like a wild animal. You feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten. Your nails dig into his back, your eyes crossing as you come again. He grunts as you tighten around him once more.
He thrusts into you so deep that you can see the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach even more than before. Your cervix needs an ice pack. He grips your waist, emptying the largest load he's ever cum. You're so tired. He continues pumping himself into you lazily. He rests his body weight on you, squishing you and pressing his still-hard cock against your stuffed insides.
Cum leeks past his cock onto the damp bedsheets. He pants, looking down at you. "I love you (y/n)," he says with the most love struck expression you've ever seen. You look like an angel to him. All you can do is twitch and bask in the afterglow of what he did. His cock began to completely re-harden at the beautiful sight he created before him.
You're no longer gym buddies, that's for sure. Thanks to him, you might be parents. You should have just accepted his feelings when you had the chance. Now your guts are filled and you're trapped under him with your knees by your head. What a workout.
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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
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Hi!! this is my first time requesting anything but i was wondering if you could do creepypasta boys were you kiss / compliment there scars!
Kissing their scars (various crp)
Bro I scratched my skin right next to this burn last week and it HURTS so bad
Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack
Notes: Reader is GN, fluff, these boys need help
CWs: talks of violence in.. well all of them, mentioned of self harm in Jeff's part
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Jeff
You decide to kiss the gashes in his cheeks, the ones that he carved.. he never really viewed them as anything very negative; sure it reminds him of the night he killed his entire gamily.. a fact he has a very wishy washy feeling of guilt over depending on the day
At first he thinks you're trying to kiss his cheeks but you make it very clear what you're trying to do when you begin to compliment them- they've healed so well since theyve been put there
Between the three he tries to play it off the most, of course it looks nice- they make him beautiful, and he always will be beautiful! What are you talking about reader?
Hes not at all willing to be vulnerable around you, it doesnt matter how long you two know each other or how close you get he never.. really let's himself just be in his feelings around others
But just know that hes going to be sitting in bed tonight looking up at the ceiling replaying what you've said and going back over the events that lead him here- rare moment of self reflection essentially
But to your face.. hes just the same as hes always been, even teasing you for having such a huuuge crush on him- bonus if the two of you are already dating
Eyeless Jack
You rarely ever get to see him without the mask, but when you do.. it's best not to do something like this the first time you see his eye sockets- hes very cagey about his face in the first place and hes not quiet ready to handle more attention drawn to it. The first few times it's off it's best to meet it with indifference
But when more time passes, you're more than welcome to test the waters. You already knew Jack had a fair collection of scars, but there was a different feel to the burned and gashed holes where his eyes would have been
He wont let you kiss him, mostly because hes unsure of what exactly the goo was made of, as well as naturally not liking the idea of someone putting their mouth where his eyes just to be- but you're allowed to trace your fingers along the scar tissue
Hes never going to tell you what happened unless theres a reason to, hes very firm when setting this boundary. It's just something that makes him feel.. gross..
He already doesn't talk much but he becomes silent as you trace your fingers and talk to him
He might go back to wearing his mask all the time again for a while but it's not exactly your fault, it was just a huge step- it's okay to back up a bit to process things
Ticci Toby
Due to his CIPA he has a bit of a disconnect between him and his injuries, scars included. He didnt really feel them when they were being made, sure he may have felt some pressure depending on what caused it but other than that, nothing really.. for a lot of them he doesnt have much thoughts- neither good nor bad
The only ones that really make him feel something are the ones he sustained from the crash- they're scattered across his body...
If you kissed or complimented any other scar he would tease you for being a little "weird", even making it a game to guess where he got the current scar from- with outlandish answers of course
But the second you reach one of /those/ scars the fun is immediately cut, you can tell theres something off
Similar to Jack, its something that has to be eased into due to the weight associated with the injuries. It's not the fact that it hurt when he got them but they serve as a reminder of what he lost
The only one who really tries to change the subject, perhaps by asking if you have any scars or markings on your body or simply changing the subject all together
Probably the only one who wouldn't want to be complimented due to the nature of some of his scars
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stevie-petey · 21 days
Note
blurb idea? stug isn't having sex yet obviously but maybe dustin walks into bug's room while they're lying really close on her bed reading together and he flips his shit like OH MY EYES and they're like ...boy we're literally just sitting here. and steve's over for dinner and dustin refuses to look at him and claudia's like ok what's up and you're like literally nothing he's so dumb
i love dramatic dustin with stug so YES !!
enjoy <3
"so jo just rejects laurie? like, flat out, brutally rejects his marriage proposal after years of being best friends and basically already in love?"
"i mean, there are some nuances youre missing, but yeah. basically."
"what kind of sick book is this?" steve shoves the book away from him in disdain. his nose is scrunched up, offended, and you refrain from kissing it all better.
you fix a piece of hair thats fallen in his face as he lays next to you on your bed. "jo and laurie are tragic, i'll admit." your words are rough from reading for hours. steve always insists that you read the books for him, he claims youre better at it, but you know its because he loves the sound of your voice. "but its what makes the book so wonderful, dont you think?"
steve rolls his eyes at you. "your obsession with tragic romances concerns me. what, are you going to reject my proposal next? make me beg on my hands and knees for you?"
"technically you already did beg on your hands and knees for me-"
"wait, you didnt say youd accept my proposal."
with a sly laugh you clear your throat and bring the book back up to your face, continuing to read. steve stares at you as you read the heartbreaking words aloud, his eyes travel the length of your neck and the slope of your nose. the scene youre reading breaks his heart more than hed care to admit. youve been reading little women to steve for a few weeks now. he really thought itd be jo and laurie in the end.
lost in the way you voice lilts between jos soft rejection and lauries broken pleads, neither you nor steve hear dustin calling for you until its too late.
the boy barges into your room and nearly shrieks his head off when he realizes steve is in bed with you. "my eyes!" he cowers to close the door, covering his face with his grubby little hands.
"dustin!" you shout at him, throwing a pillow at him to shut up him. hes being dramatic, you and steve werent even doing anything. your boyfriend is lying next to you while you read him a long and horrendous breakup scene from a classic book. if anything, the two of you should be doing literally anything else.
steve rolls off your bed and lands on his feet in one fluid motion before running over to your brother. grabbing dustins shoulders, he shakes him to try and stop the screaming. "hey! alright, can you quit it?"
"no! you were-you-my eyes!" dustin scrubs at his face with utter turmoil. he hadnt even known that steve was in his house. normally the asshole makes his presence known, stops by dustins room to say hi. its why he barged in in the first place.
had dustin known hed walk into steve in your bed, he wouldve brought a goddamn flame thrower with him instead.
"we were reading, you moron!" youre next to steve now, desperately trying to quiet your brother before your mom asks whats going on. hes already bad enough, but if your mother finds out steve had been in your bed as well, thered be permanent hearing loss.
"read at your desk! thats what those damn things are built for!"
steve shoves his hand through his hair, agitated. "oh, and who are you? the desk police?"
"'desk police'?" you stare at the teen, disappointed. "thats the best you could come up with?"
"im under a lot of pressure right now. cut me some slack."
"i want you dead."
both you and steve turn to dustin, shocked and disturbed by his words.
"okay, thank you for sharing your feelings, dustin." awkwardly you pat his shoulder. at least hes being honest and open with you. "not necessarily what i wanted to hear, but im proud of you for sharing-"
"he wants me dead and youre commending him?"
"not now," jamming an elbow into steves side, you shut him up and focus on your brother again. "now, is there a reason you barged in or can we go back to reading?"
dustins grimace on his face seems permanent now. his nose is slightly upturned, his eyes distrusting. narrowing them at you, he takes slow, calculated steps back out of your room. "dinner is ready," he says tersely before leaving entirely.
"well, this will be fun." steve sighs, and you nod grimly.
dinner is not fun.
dustin doesnt look steve in the eye the entire time. he sits as far away as possible from the teen. when asked to pass the bread, dustin pointedly ignores steves request and throws a roll to you. the bread nearly knocks your mothers water over and shes finally had enough.
"goodness, dusty! what has gotten into you tonight?" she exclaims, settling the glass that threatens to spill.
mouth full of mashed potatoes, his eyes light up evilly. before he can even think about opening his obnoxious mouth, you kick him underneath the table. your foot connects with his shin and dustin wheezes mashed potatoes all over his meal.
"dusty!" your mother gasps, alarmed. she looks at you in concern while steve snorts into his glass of water. "what is going on with you three?"
"nothing, mom." grabbing the bread that was thrown at you, you pick it apart with your fingers and make a delighted sound. "dinner is lovely tonight, by the way."
"i love what youve done with the mashed potatoes, mrs. henderson." steve is quick to add, jumping in. he makes a whole show of scooping up the mashed food and shoving it into his mouth, moaning in pleasure. "is there garlic in this?"
your mother, always easily distracted, claps her hands with joy. "why, yes! i wanted to try something different. do you really like it?"
"i adore it."
later that night you find yurtle the turtles mealworms underneath your pillow.
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leclerced · 9 months
Note
Heyyy hope you have a good day, i come bearing new thots
Credit where credit’s due, the idea is an old and deleted roger Taylor fic and not from me.
HOWEVER. Im now obsessed with this scenario with either lando or oscar (ill let you choose <3)
Roommate!AU !!!
Imagine you’re friends and roommates with lando or oscar and he has to study for his upcoming biology exam at uni. The topic? Female reproductive organs🤭
He just genuinely struggles with understanding the anatomy of a vagina and that picture in his damn book is absolutely not recognisable.
And since him and reader are friends and she doesn’t think thoughts all the way through she offers him to look at hers. I mean hes seen her shirtless a million times its nbd.
And staring at her beautiful pussy really does help him - to an extend. Hes so into his studies he doesn’t really process that he asked her „can i touch it??“ and she just goes along with it bc it’s already lowkey awkward and theres no turning back now.
She tries to not make it more awkward by suppressing her moans when his finger brush over her clit all while hes just identifying parts with his thoughts oblivious to what he does to her.
And she cant keep in the moan when he pushes his fingern in and suddenly he realises what hes doing. But he sneakily keeps going until she cums and hes trying his best to keep up the ignorant act bc shes js too hot like that😩
Got damn it i need a full length version of this fic again 😭
-🫀
i want to write a full length version omfg this is incredible!!! pictured oscar immediately. kinda set in like the early 2000s in my head bc i wanted to mention dvd rentals One Time and that's not a thing anymore but that's the world i grew up in LMAO
sorry i like got too into this at first and forgot i made plans to game with my friend and rushed the ending im sorry. added read more bc it's just over 1k <3 i think i like this a lot other than the ending idk . lmk what u think i hope it meets the expectations set by the original
reader thinks oscar's an innocent idiot but he just probably shouldn't be in medical school because while he can find the clit, he certainly doesn't know the name of it.
Her roommate has been staring at the same page for half an hour, they're seated on opposite ends of the couch, leaning against the arms and facing each other. She has a Stephen King novel leaned on her propped up knees and Oscar has an open textbook balanced on one thigh and a notebook open to a blank page on the other. After another frustrated sigh leaves him, she drops her book on the coffee table and leans over to see what he's looking at. She almost laughs when she sees the miniature sketch of a vagina, "You know, the DVD rental place down the street has rated X movies."
Oscar snorts, "I'm trying to work, leave me alone. I'm supposed to learn all the anatomical names of a vagina, but the only drawing I have is in this stupid book."
She leans in further to the diagram and hums, "That's a horrible diagram, no wonder you're getting nothing done. How old is that that textbook?" He shrugs and stretches back over the arm of the couch, "Probably like thirty, the professor wrote it himself and he's ancient."
Her eyes get pulled to his hips as he reaches behind his head and groans, his shirt lifting the slightest to reveal soft skin before he drops his arms back down. She licks her lips as she directs her gaze up to his face, "I could show you mine, if you want." The swift inhale Oscar makes is audible, he keeps his gaze locked on the books in his lap as he says, "Really?" Instead of verbally agreeing, she just scoots back to where she was leaning moments before on the arm of the couch and shimmies her shorts down before she can think twice. She giggles at the look on Oscar's face as she kicks the shorts off her ankles and he takes in the sight of her panties, lacy and red. "Are you sure?"
She shrugs and teases, "Well it's not like they have 3D models. I'm sure, I wouldn't have offered otherwise. Are you sure?" He nods slowly and she tugs her panties down her thighs and smirks at the blush that creeps up his cheeks as she drops them on his lap. She doesn't know where the sudden confidence has come from, but she feels no shame as she opens her legs to him. She drops one foot to the floor and the other lifts to rest on the back of the couch. Oscar holds her eye for a moment before she watches his gaze drift down her body and he starts to lean in before pausing, "Can I get closer?" She nods at his question and answers, "As close as you want." Oscar lurches forwards, knocking the forgotten textbook to the floor as he fumbles to grab his pen and notebook to take notes.
She can't read his chicken scratch handwriting, so whatever he's scrawling about her pussy is undecipherable to her as she watches him analyze her. She's trying not to think about how this could be weird, how it is weird to offer to let your roommate use you as an anatomy dummy. It's not really the first time. He's done other things, like when he needed to practice IVs so she let him give her a banana bag the next time she was hungover. She liked teasing him about it, calling him Doctor Piastri when she let him listen to her heart with his stethoscope. Or when she comes down with a cold and she calls him into her room to diagnose and treat her, and he brings her cold medicine and soup from the deli down the street.
She's pulled out of her thoughts when he clears his throat and she meets his eyes before she hums quizzically. The pink tint that had spattered his cheeks turns into a bright red as he asks, "Can I touch you?"
She almost thinks she didn't hear him correctly, but there's no way he could have said anything else, so she tries to joke, "So you're a hands on learner, then?"
Oscar quickly counters, "Yeah, do you mind?"
It's her turn to lose her breath as she stupidly nods and blushes as she takes in the realization that he's about to touch her pussy. In the name of science, she agrees, "No, go ahead." Then, his hand is on her pussy and his focus is entirely on the space between her legs as he spreads her lips apart and she has to close her eyes and force her mind to other places as he tilts his had interestedly. She wishes she could stop her body from reacting to his touch, but she can't. Not when he pulls back the hood of her clit, she hears him writing something, then there's a soft pressure on her clit and she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not react. She tells herself not to make any sounds so it won't be weird, he's just trying to study, he's not doing anything to her really.
She can feel the wetness build under his fingers as he slips them down to her entrance and back up. She hears Oscar mutter something but she can't make it out over the blood rushing through her head as he presses his fingers back against her clit. "Is this... The labia?" The laugh she lets out is half a moan, "That's the- clit. Labia are the lips." He dips his fingers down and pinches one lightly, "This?"
She's somehow endeared by the curiosity, and sighs, "Yeah. That. Minora. The outer one is majora."
Oscar lets out a little huff, "How do you know the names? You're not even taking anatomy." His fingers find her clit again, this time lightly pinching it, and her thighs tense as he mumbles, "Clit." She hears his pen scratching across his paper and then dips his finger down to her entrance and presses inside. She wonders what he's thinking as he slowly thrusts his finger in and out of her, his other hand still writing on the paper. It's not until he slips a second finger inside of her and curls them as he suddenly presses his thumb to her clit that she breaks her silence, a whimper falling from her lips as the unexpected pleasure hits her. She somehow doesn't realize then that this isn't his first time like she thought when she saw the surprised look on her face. Then she flutters her eyes open and immediately realizes it because he's already looking up at her, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. She gasps, "You- you didn't really need help, did you?"
He shrugs innocently, "I still don't know the names, could you remind me?" She can't tell if he's being serious or not as he quickens his thumb on her clit and she's saved from responding as he pushes up her body and presses his lips to hers hungrily.
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hurthermore · 5 months
Note
What would being locked up in your Humam Al’s cellar be like? I would assume that’s his ‘second’ kitchen like where he chops up victims so would you be down there with body parts? Or would be make it a comfortable living space for you? Maybe he doesn’t need to do that because similar to a time out chair it’s not for an extended period time. How would he respond if the reader escaped?
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OOO NOW THIS IS AN ASK… maybe spoilers ahead for Misconduct? Idk… maybe, this is just a what if the reader was combative scenario.
Warning for heavy yandere themes
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It’s dark and gloomy, due to how zero natural light can leak in the room, you wouldn't be able to see the remnants of blood that seeped through the cracks in the floorboards.
It smells like a rotting corpse; extremely repugnant. How he had made it so the smell couldn't exude into the rest of the cabin, you didn't know.
It doesn't take a second glance into the cellar to know that this is where he preps his victims for consumption. Whether they're dead or alive whilst he preps their flesh is a whole other story.
Alastor doesn't plan on throwing you down into his human-butchering cellar, but if you attempt to leave him, or start to become combative? Well, you're not giving him much choice on the matter now, are you?
It's the perfect place to lock you away for your bad behaviour; it has a strong lock for a reason.
But fret not, Alastor loves you, he wouldn't just leave you down there all alone. No, he would spend all his free time with you; he craves for your presence, regardless of any punishment you may need to go through.
He will still chop up his victims in the cellar with you there, so prepare to hold your stomach if that makes you feel queasy.
If by chance you started banging on the door or yelling for someone to help you whilst Alastor wasn't in the room with you, he will know about it, no matter how discrete you attempted to be.
He didn't want to chain you against the metal pipe in the corner of the room, but you wouldn't stop begging for him to let you out. It broke his heart, made him feel so guilty; an emotion he never thought he'd experience before.
He wouldn't be able to mentally stand it if you kept screaming, kept begging. He feared he might let you out if he had to hear your cries any longer, so he had to resort to shoving something in your mouth; what is up to you.
If by chance, you escaped, (which you wouldn't, this is Alastor, so bffr) you would break his heart into a million pieces. He thought you loved him, loved him like he loves you. So why are you running?
Ensue a chase scene, like a poorly made horror movie. Alastors place of residency is far into the bayous; so far you wondered if it was even legal to have property there. Luckily, theres a dirt road to follow, but even so, you would most likely get lost and probably eaten by some type of wild animal before you found your way out.
Luckily for you, or not, Alastor will always find you; he has a natural knack for finding his prey. So regardless of the potential hazards ahead, Alastor will get to you first. And despite how disturbing his stance may look, how sinisterly unhinged his facial expression is as he walks toward you, he will hold you with such gentleness thats more frightening than his deranged physical demeanour.
If you try shoving him off you, he won't threaten you; no, no, no, he could never threaten you. But his hold on you will get tighter, rougher, it may cause bruises depending on how combative you decide to be. Eventually you'll be hoisted over his shoulder as he takes you back home.
He'll ask you why, why you ran, why you wanted to leave him; and if the crack in his voice doesn't break your heart as he asks you those words, you must be more evil than him.
Depending on how apologetic you are, he might contemplate letting you stay up on the first floor and not the cellar. He will know if you're faking your apology though, so don't even try it, or you'll be put right back into the place you just tried escaping from.
If you want the best life with Alastor, to never see that cellar again, you need to love him, shower him in love, treat him like he treats you, pamper him in your presence and so forth.
Try escaping one more time, and Alastor will make sure you won't be able to walk again. Period.
»»------► 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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bunnyscrypt · 6 months
Text
how rafe and his weird girl met
☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐
"when are they going to tear that house down already?" rose grumbled, face full of disgust
"someone bought it." rafes head snaps up the second those words leave his father’s mouth.
the house on the end of figure eight. littered with cobwebs, cracked windows and deteriorating walls. shingles torn apart from previous storms. it was desolate. eerie. depressing. ugly.
who the hell would want to buy it?
rafe was hanging with topper and kelce. topper yapping on about god knows what. rafe wasn’t paying him any attention, just typing away on his phone.
“looks like halloween came early this year” topper nudges rafe with his elbow, nodding his head fir rafe to look ahead when he turns to him with a scowl.
rafe did a double take when he saw you. you certainly did not fit in here with your sharp claw nails painted red, black corset on top of a short black lace dress with gloves to match. he felt two things looking at you —curiosity and anger cause why the hell are you dressed like that.. all that black? in this heat?? he felt hot and overstimulated just looking at you. he's never seen anyone dress the way you do and you were definitely going to be the talk of the town. hell— you already are.
"i hear shes the one living in that decrepit old house" kelce speaks up.
"the one on the end of figure 8? that shit gives me the creeps" toppers face cringes at the thought of it. "yep. her and her family just moved in. they're weird man"
rafe stayed tight lipped and hummed. not taking his eyes off you for a second. you meet his gaze thru red sunglasses, giving him a once over before walking away, practically gliding. there was something strange about you. something….off. but you carried yourself with such confidence and it peeked his interest. he just had to get to know you.
he did it from a distance at first. asking around about you. only to get the same annoying answers. she's weird. she doesn't talk. her family is a bunch of freaks. they're creepy . he was getting no where so he decided to take a trip to your place, not that he really wanted to, you just rarely left the house so where the hell else is supposed to see you.
knocking on your front door. he's stunned when an older woman opens the door— like you dressed in all black, a gown that covers her feet. “hello. may i help you?” her voice is smooth. airy. he asks for you, honest in his intentions. always the smooth talker when he wants to be. she eyes him before telling him your name and points to the back.
that’s where he finds you. in the backyard cemetery— reading under a tree. “hi there.” you peek up at the sound of his voice, squinting. “whatcha reading about?”
“amputation” your voice is small but silvery. he likes it. despite the weirdness that just came out of your mouth. he wasn’t expecting that.
“wha-“ he sniffs. “is.. is that like for school or something?”
“no. just for fun.” theres a tiny smirk on your face. one would almost miss it if his eyes weren’t solely focused on you.
oh he’s hooked.
from then on he hasn’t left you alone, it’s almost borderline stalkerish. when you two start dating, it’s intense. you’re intense and he doesn’t know how to handle you at all. you match his energy which pisses him off but he’s obsessed with you and word spread fast. as if you weren’t already talk of the town, its dialed up by 11 now. the kook prince and the town freak. everybody talked. most things negative— not in earshot of you or rafe tho. no one wants to deal with rafes wrath if he heard them talking smack about you. you were untouchable. not that you needed rafes status to protect you. you had a bite of your own and weren’t afraid to fight back either.
you’re just as insane as he is. if not more.
 ☆*:.。.o🕸o.。.:* ☆
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pookietv · 5 months
Text
aquatic missile | arthurtv
had this idea that i thought was adorable so here
have a little arthur with a crush on a marine biologist !!!!
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after arthur had moved to london, finally getting somewhat used to the area he had moved to, he had become slightly socially worn out from seeing his friends much more often, being exposed to many more social situations all whilst trying to unpack and organise his new flat.
so he had decided to abandon his responsibilities for the day to go to the aquarium, which was honestly one of the things he had been looking forward to most when moving to a bigger city then he was used to, the museums, zoos, and aquariums he could finally visit.
he was happy going alone, wanting to unwind, his headphones hanging from his neck, ready to play some music as he strolled through and gawked at all the sea life.
when he walked into the lobby, he noticed the place was quite empty, but it didn't wholly surprise him - it was 11am on a tuesday, most people were probably at work or school, and he had somewhat been glad it was empty.
he walked up to the desk, slightly looking up at the woman at the desk before back down to his feet for a moment.
the worker was quite pretty.
"hi, can i help you?" the woman spoke, in a sweetly helpful way.
"hello, i just wanted to get a ticket?" he said, a little quietly.
"just a one day general admission?" she asked, and he confirmed with a nod of his head.
"yeah, that sounds good to me," he nodded, his eyes slightly crinkling as he offered her a slightly awkward smile.
"have you been before? we have a little leaflet with a map in that might help if you'd like one, you can obviously just wander as you please but if theres specific things you'd like to see, they're all labelled in here," she offered, placing a small blue coloured leaflet on the desk, his fingers gently reaching to take it, nodding gratefully.
"oh, thank you, yeah.. i mean, i love all the sea creatures but i do really like the sharks," he admitted with a small laugh, and she nodded, giggling a little herself.
"oh, me too.. the sharks are my favourite by a mile, i even have a specific favourite shark, they actually let me name her," she smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"no way, really? what did you call her?" he asked, clearly interested.
"a little rogue but i called her missile," she said bashfully, and he laughed.
"that is very cool." he confirmed, and she blushed a little with a nod.
arthur handed her the money for the ticket, taking it from her with a small thanks as he headed his way into the aquarium.
he could easily spend hours in the aquarium, and he did, meandering slowly and stopping at each small fish that he could see, reading all the boards with the facts on, and by the time he had even looked down at his phone he noticed it was already 2pm, and he was approaching the shark section of the aquarium, a grin on his face at the prospect.
he had barely ran into anyone whilst walking through the winding path of the place, and in the shark section he could only see one person in the whole big area, a big glass tunnel, someone hunched over on a bench, eating and watching the sharks on the other side.
he began slowly walking around, his head focussed on looking up at the glass, watching the sharks swim around, even over his head when he was lucky before he heard noise.
"oh, hi again," a small familiar voice said, and he turned to the girl eating, who had lifted her head up - the worker from before.
"hello," he said, smiling a little, "must be very cool to be able to eat here on your lunch break," he joked a bit, and she nodded.
"uh huh, one of my favourite parts of the day, checking on missile... and of course all the other sharks, i love them all. though, feeding time is also pretty cool,"
"feeding them would be so cool," he nodded in confirmation. "which one is missile?" he asked curiously, and she grinned.
"the one that swam over your head before," she laughed slightly, putting down her box of pasta and standing up for a second, slightly closer to him before pointing upwards, at a spotted slightly smaller shark, "that's missile, she's a leopard shark,"
"what about the others? do you know all their names?" he asked, and she nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
"that's david, he's a lemon shark... that's haribo, he's a gummy shark, that ones called eve, she's a nurse shark... and the rest are hiding somewhere, but we have hammerheads, angel sharks and cow sharks hiding round here somewhere," she laughed a little, shrugging, "some of them like the attention more then others,"
"so you're really interested in sharks? or is it just a thing where you know a lot from working near them?" arthur asked, and she nodded again.
"i studied marine biology, i usually work more behind the scenes but on quiet days i work behind the desk too, but yeah, i love sharks, and just sea animals on a whole... i mean, i even have a shark tattoo," she giggled. "what about you, you just here to see them or do you have an interest?"
"oh, um, i have an interest in animals in general, and i just moved to london, so i wanted to come see the aquarium 'cause i've never been before," he admitted, and she nodded.
"i do love the aquarium, it's so peaceful, i mean sometimes i come in even on my days off, which in most jobs seems so bizarre but, i don't know, i just love it here."
and that's how arthur ended up frequenting the aquarium more than he intended to, over the past month going at least six times, enjoying the aquarium (and secretly hoping to run into the girl who he had become just a small bit infatuated with but had only admitted that to his close friends, who in turn obviously mocked him)
"you literally don't even know this girls name," george laughed when arthur had admitted he may have had a tiny crush on her after telling them about going to the aquarium for the fourth time in two weeks.
"well, obviously i know that, but i mean, i can't find out unless i see her again, can i?"
"only arthur could go to an aquarium and randomly fall in love with a girl just because she spoke to him about sharks," chris said sarcastically, and arthur rolled his eyes at him, his face red.
"she was cool, okay? she literally gets to name and feed and pet sharks, that is cool!" he defended himself in a splutter of embarrassment, only leading to slightly more giggles
when he next went, and he had paid for his ticket with someone else at the desk, and began his wander around the museum, he heard a slightly teasing voice once in the shark exhibit.
"you know, you could have saved yourself a lot of money if you had just bought a monthly pass," a giggling voice said, and he turned around to her with a slightly red face and a shrug.
"didn't realise i was gonna end up coming so much," he admitted with flushed cheeks.
"just become obsessed with the sharks, eh?" she asked, and he gulped down with another shy nod.
"uh huh. and, um. well, kinda hoping to run into you, also," he acknowledged, only to hear her laugh a little more.
"stalking me now, are you?" she asked, only to make his eyes widen
"no, not like that! just that, you know, i thought you were interesting and that-" she laughed a little harder now,
"i'm just kidding, don't worry about it. you do know there's other ways to see girls you find interesting other then hoping to bump into them at work?" she teased.
"well, that's what i was hoping to ask, you know... if i could maybe see you not in the shark section of the aquarium? like a date?" he asked, fiddling with his fingers a little.
"sure, that sounds nice," she smiled at him, "though, you don't even know my name," she teased.
"well, what is your name?" arthur asked, slight more confidence in his voice and a small smile on his face, slightly reassured that she had said yes.
"whats yours? i mean, for all i know you're some stalker who frequents aquariums looking for victims," she teased, leading him to jokingly roll his eyes.
"my name is arthur, and i promise it was not stalking... just thought you were smart, and pretty, so.. what's your name?"
"suppose you'll have to find that out on the date, hm, arthur?
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snekdood · 2 months
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i honestly deserved none of the shit ppl did to me that lead me to this point
#yall made a victim bitter and hate everyone. congratz ig. keep convincing yourself its somehow activism.#me saying a slur i shouldnt have in 2013/14 bc the ppl around me irl normalized it to me and that repelling people online from me?#understandable. everything else? yeah you can all fuck yourselves with a rake.#plus- that was literally 11/10 years the fuck ago. do you really genuinely believe in all of that time that im still fucking saying it#the only way you could believe that is if you thought I was some sort of secret strategic right winger whos planning ???? something#god the fuck knows what it would even be#if you think im somehow tainted bc of that past I think you might be a lil controlling of a person#im sorry no one is a pure person who never does wrong. get over yourself bc you sure as fuck arent perfect my good bitch#it was 11/10 years ago AND i was a fucking kid. yeah. i think im bound to make mistakes bc of the inherent ignorance of being a child.#i dont think that deserves to be held against me my entire life especially since I now heavily disagree with the reasoning for why#i thought it was ok to say in the fucking first place#yall just want an eternal punching bag and thats really it.#i could become a fucking saint and it wouldnt matter bc dur he said bad word 11 years ago worst thing anyone could do ever fer sure#yall are impossible to please and its why no one but the people you've guilted and manipulated gives a fuck about trying.#and even they eventually see it for the bullshit it is.#yall want someone to control and do everything you say. not for people to become better to others. you dont give a fuck#you auth piece of shit.#thats why i had to learn that slur was still bad to say offline. bc all the people online wanted to do was control my actions#tell ME what to do. tell ME what to draw. when they have no fucking right to TELL ME what to do. you can ask- im more receptive to being#asked to not do something. but any type of behavior control? good fucking luck. you think I failed highschool just bc of the bullying#n shit? nah its bc I dont like being ORDERED to do shit. and I never fucking will! and theres nothing anyone can fucking do to#make me do shit and if they try to force me to do shit they're controlling as fuck and authoritarian.#i have learned SO MUCH more on my own volition and desire to learn vs when I was TOLD that I HAD to.#all my life ive rebelled against this shit. you bet your ass im not about to stop with yall. ask me like im a fucking person#not TELL me to do something like im a fucking slave to your whims.#fuck you
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octopiys · 2 months
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Okay I just saw someone’s Olympic x cod au (and it was so cool) so now I’m asking everyone what their Olympic x cod head canons are.
OOOO HI ANON
Okay this is actually really cool
First thought was that Soap and Gaz would be synchronized divers. (I love diving, I did it as a kid but couldn't afford to keep doing it) I think they're built properly to do it, and I think when they win their first gold they'd be over the moon, cheering and shaking each other desperately because they can't believe the news. Yes, they'd be on the same team, as Scotland is a part of the GB team.
I honestly feel like Ghost would do rings acrobatics (I think it's acrobatic gymnastics or artistic gymnastics?) He's got wide enough shoulders, and what he struggles in is his weight class and his height that work against him, but his muscles make up for it. (HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR ARMS AND BACKS??? WILD)
Price is a bit interesting. I'll say he coaches Ghost in rings, because that's what I think he'd do if he wasn't competing. He's also got ties with both the Russian team, and the US team, but one of the Russian coaches dropped the Olympics before Russia was no longer allowed to compete, and is frequently spotted on the sidelines near Coach Price. There were rumors in the early 2000s, when both John and Nikolai were competitors, that they would trade each other's team plans and secrets due to their.... ehem, close companionship.
Alternatively, I think Gaz could be on the cricket team. Idk he probably played it as a kid, and would just end up sword fighting his cousin with the bats, and he's not actually really sure how he got on the team, in all actuality, but he's one of the best by far.
Alternatively, Soap might do volleyball. He just seems like he'd play volleyball. Didn't even realize he qualified for the Olympics until he got back home and saw it on the news: "Local Glasgow teen qualifies for the 2024 Paris Olympics" followed by "Unable to reach for comment". He's in the Olympics quite a few times, one of the youngest qualifying volleyball players in Europe when he first started off.
Alternatively, Ghost might do archery, get famous for splitting his arrows twice in a row one game. He gets made fun of, afterwards, by a mohawked Scot on his team just a few years younger than him, who repeatedly calls him Merida. It... doesn't really help that the stadium fluorescents make his hair look more ginger than usual.
Price and Nikolai do shooting. I feel like Price will be that Turkey guy who gets famous for being wildly comfortable (minimal gear, short sleeve, and kind of bored) during his competition, along with his god-given boonie hat. He's won gold every year since 2004. Nikolai sticks to his own challenge, coming in at a close silver, and ended up taking a break after 2016, when an accident on the range was the likely culprit to the abrupt pause in his career. But, he's still spotted like a celebrity at every Olympic games..... is that a Team GB shirt he's wearing?
I feel like Alex would do rowing (men's single scull), and not be terrible at it. He's got one gold and two silvers, before community work he did overseas took his leg. He then keeps it up, if possible, and joins the paralympic rowing (para-rowing) team. He does significantly better in this category, and gets gold 3 paralympics in a row. He still does charity work in the middle east with his wife,
Farah, who either does fencing, or boxing. I can't decide. She would be incredibly powerful in fencing, deadly accurate, and makes Alex thank God that she doesn't have actual access to swords. Her rounds are extremely fast, but she's amazingly skilled, having been placed on the team when she was just fourteen.
Roach would do water polo, or maybe rings with Ghost. That's how they meet each other, and theres no malice in their relationship at all. The media loves it, especially after his wipeout in 2016 because there was an unforseen obstacle (bug) on his ring, thus giving him the nickname Roach.
Rodolfo would be a gymnast too, either pommel horse or parallel bars. He's one of the tallest competitors in that category, at a shocking 5'8 (173cm) and is beloved by every Olympic fan in Mexico. (his job is pommel horse. his job is parallel bar)
Alejandro would also do gymnastics, but he'd probably do pommel horse or the horizontal bar. He's known for his fiery attitude, once making world news for almost fucking up an American competitor from Texas when he made a few comments after Rodolfo suffered a bad case of the twisties two seasons ago.
Graves is a newer competitor, the same one from Texas. He's not as well known, been around since the last Olympics, but he's got an interesting floor routine that will earn him a gold this year. However, he doesn't place in the all around competition, just falling short of the Mexican team, and one guy from GB. Better luck next year, Phillip.
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tremendum · 3 months
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heaven is a place on earth ; joel miller
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02; stopping and stalling
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au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.
↬   prologue  part one series masterlist main masterlist
↬     "after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you - only a few weeks, and you already fucked this up."
↬     warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, shitty ex, brief mention of marijuana use, some Tommy x reader, brief allusions to masturbation, fantasies, brief hand kink, brief scent kink (???lol), brief praise kink (use of term girl), car talk tbh im sorry... also light angst/anxiety i guess, fluff. reader is described as smaller than joel.
↬     heyyyyy guys! thanks for being patient, i had some writer's block but im finally back! i hope you like the next part of this series, lmk what u think/if theres anything you'd like to read w this trope. also im sorry i cant help that there is flirting with tommy too,,, i need them both expeditiously lol. xoxo love u all
series mixtape, song three; In Too Deep, Sum 41. 2000.
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"shit."
thighs burning, your shoes squish against the soaked pavement as you carry yourself as fast as possible down the sidewalk. "shit, shit, shit."
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the rain that pours from the sky is unforgiving; your hair slides in a stringy mess against your neck as you try to calm your heartbeat, blurrily watching as the house grows larger in your wavering vision.
bottom lip quivering, you ignore the cold shiver that comes up your spine; why today? why, why today?
you're afraid to check your cellphone; hell, you haven't even thought to check it until now! shit. Joel's probably pissed.
you let out a pathetic groan, heart hammering as you ignore the time on your wristwatch: 8:21am. twenty-one minutes late.
fuck, you think. fuck fuck fuck.
you could have texted Joel - in fact, any rational person would have probably had that immediate thought after their car sputtered to a stop on the side of the road, smoke slinking from the side of their hood as the rain splattered aggressively on the windshield.
you should have texted him, let him know you'd be late - but then, you'd gone into your damn glovebox to check your AAA number and been reminded unpleasantly of what you've been working hard to forget; your ex's full name boasted across the registration for the car had sent you into a near frenzy. everything that's built up - the near-eviction, the breakup, the move, the rain, your car. all of it hit you at once.
there's no way you can afford to pay for a fixed engine (and shit, you don't even know if the engine is the problem) without insurance, and your dickhole ex has still not signed any of the paperwork for you to take the title of the car back. so. shit.
for over twenty minutes you've been trudging through the rain - you're soaked to the bone, fighting back tears, and already wondering if you'll be able to take back your full-time job at the library. 
after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you as you turn the corner up the driveway, only a few weeks and you already fucked this up. 
you have to shut your eyes harshly as the front door opens; whoever's on the other side must have been watching out the window for any sign of you - and here you are, washing up on the Miller's driveway like a batch of late season seaweed; a wet puppy, shaking and trying not to have a full breakdown, your eyes clenched shut. 
Joel's voice finds your ears as you finally make it onto the porch - a respite from the downpour, there's just a slight breeze that blows mists of rainwater over your cold form.
you feel like an idiot. you cannot afford to lose this job. you're a fool. 
Joel says your name in concern; a far cry from the anger you'd expected. "y'okay? what happened?”
you take a shaky breath, meeting his eyes - they're warm, honeyed in the darkened skies of the morning and it makes you feel so much worse. he must've slept in, too - odd, considering it's a Wednesday - he's wearing pajama flannels, a gray shirt, and his hair is fluffed out - curling up at the ends, the tips still damp from a shower. Tommy's work boots are gone from the front - he must've gone to work, Joel staying back to wait on your tardiness. fuck.
"I'm so sorry, Joel-" your throat closes up, blinking back the emotion that wavers in your voice. you feel stupid. "I'm so sorry I'm late-" you shake your head, praying to every god up above or below to make your lip stop wobbling so pathetically. 
but Joel doesn't hesitate to step aside, brows drawn low, "come in, you're soakin' wet." 
you bite your lip as you shuffle inside, barely registering the hovering palm on the small of your back as you awkwardly stand on their doormat, focusing your eyes blearily on the darkness of the house. 
the overcast storm throws the usually warm, sunny house into a bout of cool blues and grays - the drawings on the wall, the guitar in the corner reflecting the rolling clouds from the window panes. you suck a breath through your lungs and ignore the way it draws short - either you're very close to crying, or you really need to stop smoking so much weed. probably both. 
"did you walk all the way here?" Joel asks, brows furrowed in that kind look of concern, eyes flickering to the storm outside and back to you. "where's your car?" 
this brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes and you look up towards the high vaulted ceiling of their foyer, shaking your head. 
"my car broke down, just off Park Street, and I can't-" you sigh, biting back the sting of tears, "I can't take it in, and it was pouring rain and I didn't want to ruin your day-" you are forced to take a sharp inhale, letting out stuttered breaths. you shake your head, hands rising to wipe what's surely the streaks of mascara that have gathered under your eyes, your clothes still sticking to you and hair dripping solemn pools onto Joel's hardwood. "I'm just so sorry that I'm late. I swear, it'll never happen again." 
something in his face becomes very soft - maybe it's the lighting, that casts a slight shadow from his nose, or the way his brows gather together in an upwards tick, but he shakes his head at it makes your heart pang. 
"didn't you see my text, darlin'?" he says softly, "we called off working today. 's too stormy to do construction." 
the name drips from his lips so casually you barely register it fully. your cheeks heat; you're not sure if it's more from his use of the term or from the slow realization washing you in a wave of embarrassment. darlin' - you're not unused to people using words like that, hell, you grew up here - but it's different coming from his mouth.
you ingore that thought; your hands shake slightly as you move to pull out your phone - your purse is soaked too, three shades darker than it usually is. the buttons on your cellphone are damp and your heart pangs when you wonder if it'll be ruined from water damage - but there it is, a text from Joel about forty minutes ago: 
Rain is coming down pretty hard today. You don't need to come over—Sarah and I can manage. Take the day off and relax, you deserve it.
Thanks. Joel
your throat closes tight: "oh," you squeak, biting your lip as the screen becomes blurry; relief floods through you just as embarrassment does - a fun cocktail in your veins that makes you smile weakly. "didn't-" you clear your throat, "didn't see that." 
only a split moment of silence in which the house withstands the assault of rain on its roof; Joel hums, "here, let me get you a towel.”
he disappears down the hall and you take the moment to breathe deep; letting the warmth of the house seep into you, your hands tremble with the emotional strain of humiliation that is coursing through you. what a fool. your heart beats hard in your throat, but there is a large relief when you understand that Joel does not seem keen on firing you for being 20 minutes late to the job he told you not to come in for. you curse yourself for not checking your text messages before leaving your apartment this morning.
Joel returns quickly, towel in hand; you take it and can only bring yourself to whisper your thanks into the empty foyer. 
“don’t worry about it." he says, shrugging one shoulder, "y'said your car's on Park Street- that's over a mile away, why didn’t you call me?”
you strain the water from your hair with the towel, clutching the scent of the warm fabric to you; it's not pink like the one's in Sarah's bathroom, and with a heat on your cheeks, you register it must be one of Joel's. shrugging, you shake your head. “I didn’t want to bother you - or, I guess I was just...distracted. my car… is sort of complicated.”
Joel’s brow furrows, “complicated?”
you hesitate - you don't want to come off to your current 'employer' as untrustworthy or reckless, but it's Joel - he's kind, understanding, if not a bit aloof at times; but you trust him. you swallow with a bitter chuckle, “the car’s title is still in my ex’s name. I can’t bring it to a shop without him, and I don’t know how to even check under the hood myself-”
your hand flies to your face to furiously wipe away the tears of humiliation that fall; great. just what you needed - to cry in front of him like a baby. 
“hey," a hand, warm and heavy, falls to your shoulder; your wet eyes trail to his figure, where he soothes over your shivering arm. you miss its presence as he pulls back away, "if you want, I’ll take a look at it when the rain stops.”
you shake your head, "I couldn't ask you to do that." 
"you're not askin' me, I'm offerin'." he insists; you meet his eyes to find generosity swirling in that honeyed brown; you smile up at him with a watery gaze, unsure how to thank him.
"you can stay here 'till then, or I can give you a ride back to your place in a bit when Tommy gets back. he had t'run to the job site to get our tools." 
you look up at him, craning your neck as you search his expression for any hint of irritation or anger - none. you flush as you wipe under your eyes again, “thank you, Joel. I'm sorry, again, for this..." you look down, gesturing vaguely to yourself,  "...mess." 
he holds your gaze for a moment, as the rain pours against the slats of the house and the panes of the windows, and shakes his head slightly. your stomach rolls over as you stand, still shaking with the nerves and cold, not breaking contact: something about his utter calm in the middle of your hurricane-mind has your face hot. 
Joel opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a light on the stairwell flips on, and footsteps slide down the stairs, as if Sarah has taken to sliding down the carpet on the balls of her feet. you used to do something similar as a kid.
“dad?” Sarah mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she appears on the stairs; Joel takes a quick step back from you, the distance sudden and coaxing another rush of surprise to confusion over your cheeks - had he really been standing that close? you have no time to analyze the action before he's speaking to her. 
 “morning, sweetpea." he says, clearing his throat. Sarah's eyes meet yours and they widen slightly, padding over to you and saying your name softly, "are you okay?" she asks as she takes your hand gently. such a sweet girl.
you force a smile, weakened from the moment you'd just had, from the morning you've had; her eyes are so full of that same concern her father carries, though, and it warms your heart. you nod, “I’m alright, Sarah. just a little wet from the rain." you shift on the balls of your feet as your gaze flickers to Joel - he nods, looking back to his daughter, "well, how about we get you some breakfast?” he suggests. inadvertently you become aware of your own rumbling stomach, having come back to life after the realization that you aren't losing your job today. 
Sarah nods, her sleepy face breaking into a smile, “pancakes?”
Joel grins; it's as if the tension eases from the room as he nods back at her, “pancakes it is. 'm right behind you, sweetpea.”
Sarah traipses to the kitchen; you stay back awkwardly, watching as she disappears - Joel turns back to you, lifting a brow. "I can take a look at your car after the rain stops later this afternoon, or if y'want, I can take you home when Tommy's back?" he says, eyeing the keyhooks that remain empty by the front door; you shift on your feet, itching to flee, but itching to stay and embrace the warmth you've come to enjoy in this house. he continues with a small smirk, "-if you stay, I can't offer much besides some mediocre pancakes and some even more mediocre coffee." 
despite your humiliation and exhaustion, you can't help the short laugh at Joel's valiant attempt to lighten your mood; unfortunately his charm is undeniable, and you're reminded of what Michelle said to you those days ago: 
Joel is a nice man. just- don't get into trouble. 
you curb your smile, lifting a brow when you hear Sarah's voice call from the kitchen, yelling your name and dragging out the vowels. "-come help me with breakfast!"
you glance back to Joel, "if you really don't mind, then I'd like to stay," you say smally with a smile. "if I went home, I'd just lay around and mope. plus," you nod your chin towards the kitchen, "seems like you've been demoted from sous chef." you tease, finding a bit of yourself returning in the comfort of the sweet girl you nanny and her father. 
he grins back at you, shaking his head, "I don't doubt you'd make a better sous than me, darlin'-" he takes in your still soaking shirt, "but you should take a shower, I'm worried you'll catch a cold in those clothes."
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Joel leads you upstairs, into the master bathroom.
you school yourself, keeping your eyes on his large frame, not daring to look around at his bedroom and all the different pieces of Joel you've yet to discover. you're used to Sarah's room, with pinks and blues and purples and action figures and textbooks - not this adult bedroom, with t-shirts and framed photos and a heavy scent of amber and cedarwood. 
he hands you a stack of clean clothes - a flannel and what seems to be a pair of sweatpants; you smile gratefully, ignoring the heat on your cheeks and in your chest; a feeling nestles in your heart, stuck halfway between humiliation and some kind of intimacy, neither of which feel right in this moment. 
you shake it off as he tells you to take your time, disappearing back down the hallway with a mutter about ensuring nobody set the kitchen on fire yet. 
you close and lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.
the last hour has been a whirlwind: losing your car, almost losing your job, the humiliation of walking in the rain, showing up to work when you had the day off - all of it catches up to you. 
but instead of crying again, you let out a short huff, shaking your head. you'll be okay - smiling watery to yourself in the mirror, you puff your cheeks and blow the air out slowly. Joel won't fire you. you'll get help with the car. deeeep breath. 
the bathroom is small and intimate and you find it heats up very quickly as you run the shower; within forty seconds the mirror begins to fog and you're wrapped in a cocoon of warmth that eases the chill that's seeped into your bones. you peel off your wet clothes with still-shaking hands, slipping under the heat of the stream quickly. 
you stand, staring at the wall, for several minutes before snapping out of it; a thick scent has begun to leak its way into the steam of the shower, and you eye the culprit - an opened, unscrewed bottle of some kind of men's body wash. you blink with heated cheeks as you're suddenly assaulted with visions of Joel in this very shower; the thought sends your heart racing and you swallow thickly, not able to resist the temptation to lather it over your own body.  
the smell is that same amber scent, citrusy and male - you don't mind it as you let the suds slide off your skin, trying not to think about him. Joel. his kindness, his concern, his hands- you shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts; it's not right, you tell yourself.
just- don't get into trouble. 
it isn't right to think of him this way, especially when he's just being kind - especially when he's so much older, especially when you're the nanny for his daughter. 
but your hands linger on your skin, the scent of Joel's soap mingling with the steam, creating an intoxicating mix that makes your head spin; the soft weight of his hand soothing your shoulder, how it'd feel if he dragged those hands down - a pang of guilt and you quickly push the thought away, snapping back to the present. 
you slam off the showerhead, shaking your mind of your polluting thoughts. 
the towel Joel gave you earlier dries you off quickly, and you wipe away a small section of the mirror to see your reflection - you pull the clothes on he'd given you, cuffing the length of the pants, buttoning the warm flannel over yourself with a small smile. 
you don't let yourself wallow any longer; the smell of breakfast wafts up through the vents and into Joel's bedroom as you exit, a swirl of steam curling around you as you towel-dry your hair, recalling the comb that lives in Sarah's bathroom drawer. 
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the warmth of the shower does wonders.
you pad down the stairs, only feeling vaguely odd wearing borrowed clothes, smiling as your stomach rolls in hunger - you feel much more composed. 
when you make it down, the dining table is set: four placemats, four plates, cups with orange juice, and three mugs of coffee. you raise a brow, "did I miss the fun?" you ask gently. 
Joel and Sarah are bustling around the kitchen, putting the final touch on breakfast - pancakes, fruit, the works. 
"-fun just arrived, actually." a voice from the hall makes your stomach flip, heat traveling up your neck. Tommy must've gotten home while you were showering. 
you roll your eyes good-naturedly as Tommy comes around the corner from the garage, nodding at you in greeting. "you look nice and cozy." he observes, eyes roving over your figure drowning in Joel's clothes. your lips press together, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach at his observation of your clothing. there is no implication - you're the nanny, it's all innocent, but the look he's giving you is not. as if he knows how Joel makes your heart thud and your mind fuzzy. 
"car broke down." you say quickly, sitting where Sarah directs you. Tommy hums, a look that could be read as skeptical, teasing, flickering across his face. Joel flips a final pancake in the pan, pacing over to slide it onto your plate gently. when he leans over you, he's close enough to ask quietly, "you feel better?"
it's soft, kind, as if he's cautious not to air out your previous breakdown to the others in the room. you're grateful. 
"yes. thank you." you say back, smiling genuinely at the man, eyes roving over the moustache which sits on his upper lip, the beard that's grown in and rises to meet his air-dried curls. he returns to work on another culinary project as Sarah places the fruit on the table and drags Tommy to sit down.
there's a bag that Joel is pouring a mixture into; some kind of meat inside, and you hum. Joel really is a very handsome man. "marinade?" you ask.
he looks over at you, nodding, "yeah, s'for the cookout this weekend." he sets the bowl down, sealing the bag. "you coming?" 
you smile tightly, nodding - any excuse to get outside, to see Joel, Sarah, Tommy, even Michelle and Dan. "should be," you say, anxiously looking over to where your car keys now hang next to Joel's near the front door - he must've hung them up for you while you were upstairs. Joel hums, "good." 
Sarah beams at you when everybody takes a seat. "dad said you get to stay with us until the rain stops." she says, poorly concealing her excitement with a grin. you smile back, nodding as you sip on the coffee poured for you. "yes, ma'am." you respond, stretching your legs out a bit under the table.  
"lucky us," Tommy says through a bite of pancake. you huff at his harmless flirting; you just miss the subtle glare Joel shoots his brother. oblivious, Sarah hums. "I hope it never stops raining!" 
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it eventually does stop raining. 
it's a little before dinner; the air is fresh and damp, the grass that peculiar shade of green against the backdrop of those high thunderclouds that retreat after their previous downpour. with only a light breeze, the air is charged with some kind of electricity as you breathe in the the scent of petrichor it carries with it. 
"right," the voice says next to you.
Joel's arms are propped against your shitty car, his brows furrowed in focus. the engine still glistens with raindrops, and there's a small line of moisture that caught on the fabric of Joel's shirt from where he'd popped the hood of your car. 
"first things first. let's check the battery connections - sometimes they can get loose or corroded." he mutters, directing you with a long, thick finger over to your car battery; you nod, trying your best to pay attention. 
a finger traces along the seam of a smaller edge of the battery terminal, scarcely avoiding touching it. "see this white, powdery stuff?" he's looking at you; it takes you only a split second as you realize he's waiting for you to answer. you nod quickly, "y-yeah." 
he nods, "that’s corrosion. luckily it's not too bad here, but it can cause issues."
you hum, taking a mental note as you bite your lip - thankful that he's taking the time to actually explain what goes on in the inside of your car, seeing as you're next to hopeless.
he gestures again. "d'you know what this is?" he asks, and it's as if god has given you a freebie from your turmoil this morning; you nod, grinning slightly. "it's where you fill the brake fluid." you say in affirmation. "I have some extra in the trunk." you supplement, glad you're not a total idiot when it comes to the car. 
he nods, "been takin' care of that. good girl," he gestures to the side, "these here are spark plugs - good to keep an eye on, because they can get dirty or worn out and cause the car to have trouble starting. these also look alright, though."
you're barely listening, though; your ears are buzzing heartbeat thumping as you school the flush over your cheeks at such a casual praise - something he'd probably not even think twice of, because you're his daughter's babysitter, god damn it, but you can't help the stirring deep within you. 
good girl. jesus.
you press your lips together and force yourself to relax, to calm the fluttering in your stomach the heat in your lower abdomen. eventually, Joel reaches the fuel pump - "here we go. I think this might be the culprit." he turns to you, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "if the fuel pump isn't working properly, it can prevent the engine from getting the fuel it needs to run." 
he gestures for you to look and leans back a bit; leaning over to peer into the belly of your car, at all its metal guts and ominous sputterings, you suddenly catch a scent - a mix of your handlotion you'd applied on the ride over with Joel's soap from his shower stuck to your skin and wafting in the air, a pleasant smell.
your stomach flutters as you try to follow Joel's explanation, "'kay...how can you tell it's the fuel pump that's the problem?" you ask him, turning to squint up at him. 
"there's-" another gentle breeze, then, and Joel pauses; you stare back at him, unsure what's caught his attention, but then it's over quicker than it started. blinking at you, he clears his throat and nods, pointing to the part, "there’s a few ways, but mainly if your car cranked out while drivin', or if it starts an' then stalls, it's often a sign of a fuel pump problem." he taps it with two fingers, "this one looks pretty worn out."
you bite your lip, cursing your ignorance and the stupidity of your ex for insisting on taking care of the car jut to completely ignore it and take it for an oil change only every few blue moons. 
"can it be fixed?" you can't hide the anxiety in your voice. 
"course." Joel nods, closing the hood; you don't flinch at the sound, too worried by the engine. "'m not quite good enough to do it myself, but i've got a buddy down in town that can do it for ya for cheap." he smiles gently, "should only be a few hundred." 
your throat dries, stomach dropping. "c-couple hundred?" you hiss, pressing your lips together. "okay."
okay.
okay: you can take a few more shifts at the library, double up your days; that's fine, that's fine. you'll have to fix your car before your cellphone, but you'll be fine without texting for a while. maybe you could sell your portable CD player or some clothes for some cash. okay, shit. 
shit. 
you laugh mirthlessly, "I... I don't have that kind of money right now." you say awkwardly, "but at least I live close to the bus stop." you add, wondering how much a bus pass is. certainly less than that. 
"-listen, i'd be happy to help you out with it," Joel says, and your hackles raise in embarrassment, "-no, Joel, I can't ask that of you. you've already done so much." you say, looking down at yourself, still clad in his flannel and pants. 
he shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "could pay you advance. let me help you." 
you swallow thickly, biting your lip. "I feel bad, Joel. I already put you out." 
"hey," he says, turning to look at you - he leans slightly on the hood of your car, gaze burning into the side of your face. you flush, but meet his eyes. "don't worry about it. I can pay you ahead for your work to cover for it. all you've put me out on is a few pancakes, a cup of coffee, and my patience with my brother."
the mention of Tommy makes you flush with embarrassment, floundering, "oh. Joel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 
he shakes his head, with a grin - he was teasing you. "Tommy's always been a flirt. I trust you can handle your own." he adds, "but you let me know if he's too much, yeah?"
something about his tone makes you even more flustered, though, and you grin, shrugging. "yeah. you'll be the first to know." you say, wondering how many people he's had to say that to in his life. 
he says nothing to this, but you clear your throat, looking at him, "um...thank you for your help. this morning, with the car- all of it." you say, smiling awkwardly, "i've had a hard time adjusting to a lot of recent...life changes and..." you feel like you're oversharing, so you stop short, "just. you've all been very kind to me." you finish. "i'm so thankful for this job." 
Joel watches you, gaze flickering between your eyes for a few moments before he nods, "'course, darlin'. life can throw some curveballs, huh?" he nudges your shoulder and as you sway back you can't help the soft smile that grows, hiding it as you look away. darlin'.  
"you're doing great, though. Sarah and I, we're glad to have you." he affirms. you smile into the metal of your car hood.
"let’s get your car started now, yeah?" he asks. 
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you're sat in the driver's seat.
Joel leans through the window to hold down the switch on your steering wheel as you turn the keys, the small Tamagotchi on your keychain knocking against your wrist as he instructs you to pump the gas pedal. 
after a few tries the engine sputters to life; you let out a stuttered sigh of relief, smiling and letting out one small clap. 
Joel smiles, "there she is," he taps the dash above your steering wheel with the flat of his large palm, leaning slightly. as he turns to lean out the window, his eyes meet yours - face to face, he's much closer than either of you anticipated.
you're struck with the proximity; for a moment, his face is inches from yours. 
and then the moment stretches out, your heart skipping a beat - you can see the few freckles that have grown over the bridge of his strong nose, the way his breath leaves his lips, the smile lines and faint dimple, his eyelashes lit from the sun behind you. 
Joel clears his throat, stepping back from the window with a tap to the roof of your car. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"alright, you’re all set. just drive carefully, okay? let the engine run for a few minutes when you get home."
you nod, voice softer than you hoped it'd be, "I will. thanks again, Joel."
he nods in that way he always does, the same nod that you always see in Sarah. "be safe. see you tomorrow."
Joel leans against his truck as you peel away, off the side of the road and joining the sparse few cars on the road, the remaining rainwater slicking against tires in the distance. you swear you see him wave before he slips up into the cab of the truck, figure growing smaller in your rearview with each passing moment. 
you let the car run when you return to your apartment, biting your lip dumbly and staring down at your ruined phone, at the warped message that sits on your screen.
 
Call me if you need a ride in the morning- Sarah and I can pick you up. 
Have a good night. Joel
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marimeeko · 1 month
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Thinking lately about Izuku(a civilian now) getting caught up in some Villain shenanigans(think like a random hostage situation or heist/robbery)(he is literally at the wrong place at the wrong time) and the possibilities of what could happen.
The possibilities of the civilians recognizing him and hoping for him to save them? Him doing his best to keep them all together and calm?
The possibilities of whether or not the villains recognize him or slowly start to figure it out? Do they know he's actually Quirkless now and try to take advantage of that? Or do they think he still has powers and immediately try to restrain and overpower him?
How Izuku either fights back or tries to thwart the villains? How he stays quiet at first, but is observing and analyzing the crap out of them and their Quirks?(while it's technically illegal for him to act as a hero, he also wouldn't stand down if the villains were threatening to harm any of the hostages)
If he has an actual altercation with them? And what if he gets injured? (I imagine he can hold his own reasonably well in a hand to hand fight! He still trains and is in shape, maybe even spars with Kacchan, and he has that extremely high pain tolerance! But he still gets clocked especially if he's trying to prevent them from doing harm)
And what happens when GEMG DynaMight gets to the scene. And does Katsuki know before hand that Izuku is involved of find out afterward when Izuku is released with the hostages? Or when he busts in to stop them and sees Izuku himself??
Or do the villains know enough about Izuku and Katsuki to make Izuku their primary hostage and hold Izuku hostage for some sort of ransom or deal with DynaMight?
And do they know enough to know that that's pretty much a death wish for them?
How about Izuku being just cool as a cucumber even though they're threatening DynaMight bc he knows enough about these suckers now to know that they are no match for Dynamight....much less when he is ANGRY.
Or how bout Izuku actually trying to talk them out of their dumb idea (full on teacher voice activated) because he knows they're petty criminals who are acting this way for a reason, but they shouldn't add kidnapping to their rapsheet.
DynaMight busting in and busting them, of course, and putting the fear of god into the villains whenever he is aware of Izuku being involved. He takes it personally, maybe hitting the guy holding down izuku a little harder than the others before arresting them.
What about when Katsuki gets Izuku out of there, he fusses endlessly over Izukus injuries and bloody face, and refuses to let Izuku go home by himself(he needs to be monitored for a concussion, that's all!)
I MEAN WHY HAVE WE NOT THOUGHT MORE ABOUT THIS ASPECT THERES SO MUCH POTENTIAL HERE.
If this is a fic already I really want to read it... Daniart already made an art to this theme and I saw it today, meanwhile I have definitely been pondering it for a day or two *bkdk brainmeld*
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azurlily · 9 months
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Dont ask just read, this is what a bored and horny mind can come up with. Yes, this woman needs a name so for now we will call her LSM. What does that stand for? Lets find out together. Completely UNEDITED.
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Lesbian Sugar Mommy
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You had a daily schedule, a routine. You followed this routine everyday for years. For years. So you being poor as hell at only 24, being barely able to afford food and rent. It was an all time low for you, and an embarrassing one at that. Recently your friend recommends you try a sugar dating app. At first you thought it was stupid, but mulled it over and remembered how broke you were. You made a profile and it took a couple days before you matched with a woman. At first you were incredibly awkward when texting and felt embarrassed. She seemed like the kindest woman you've ever met. She understood you and was better than any man or woman you had previously dated.
You were honestly pretty enamored with her, she has dark green eyes. Like a forest green, god they're beautiful, and you swear they change color depending on what she's wearing. Her hair is long and dark, contrasting her lightly tan skin. Her hair is slightly curly, definitely not straight. In the many pictures she's sent you, you notice all her nails are perfect manicured, but two on each finger have been cut down completely. You didn't bother asking, weren't a virgin or stupid, simply poor. You two began talking a bit more about finances after a couple weeks. She listened to you talk about your financial situation, how you could barely keep a roof over your head. By the end of your two and a half hour conversation, you found yourself being wired $10,000. It wasn't as if it was out of nowhere considering what the conversation was, but it was surprising. LSM had said she wanted to give you a bit of money to keep you going for the month. She had not said she was give 10,000 fucking dollars! You didn't know what to do with the money. Other than pay your bills and let the rest sit.
For a couple days you were worried she'd want it all back, but no, instead she asked if you wanted more.
"Well I didn't give you that much...so I'm just making sure it's enough. I can give you plenty more, sugar."
You had reassured her it was enough, much more than enough. In the following days you were finding her flirting with you more, being more straightforward. You blushed everytime she made a crude joke, but you almost wished it was a statement.
When LSM had asked if you wanted to have dinner at her place you agreed. You wondered how the night would go, if you would fuck up and she'd be mad. You hoped the night went as well as possible, and if not, that she'd at least tell you.
The night went a lot of different ways. At first she was playing the kind and gracious host, then she was flirting with you. Finally you had both drank a little too much of her expensive red wine, and she fucked you against her king size bed.
You dont remember the first little bit, but you certainly remember how your night ended. Well not all of it, that woman has the sex drive of a beast. She continued until she couldn't, until you couldn't walk and she couldn't see straight. If nothing else; your legs will remember this until you die.
"Good morning sugar, how are you feeling? I hope I wasn't too rough on you, although I can't say it was entirely my fault. You kept begging me to keep going, and who am I to deny you?"
You whined, talking hurt, and you couldn't move without some part of your body below your waist hurting. You sit up just a enough and look at yourself in your phone mirror. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing, theres a massive bite mark on your shoulder. Everywhere else there's hickeys, like they're changing color.
"Before you get mad- please look at my back!"
She turned and you saw large scratch marks running down her back. From her shoulders to her ass, you can also see quite the array of bites on her shoulder. One looks like it was actually bleeding. Your reaction must be funny because she's laughing like crazy. She gently cups your face and kisses your lips.
"So pretty. My girl is so pretty arent you? Mommy's little girl."
You just laid in her arms for a while, letting her talk about whatever she wanted. You were tired and her touch made you weak. You began thinking about your job, did you have to call in to work today? Were you working today? You asked LSM, but she just smiled and shook her head.
"You wont need your job anymore, at least not this one. I've already sent your monthly allowance over to you. You can quit that job anytime, it'll give you more time for me."
Monthly allowance? You pulled away to check your bank account. Sure enough she had transferred over $40,000.
You stared at the number for a moment a then looked back at her. You assumed she was some sort of big millionaire, but now that you're looking around. Really looking. You dont want to know what this woman does for a living.
"Pay no mind sugar, now come here. I'll have someone bring breakfast and we can stay in bed all day!"
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