#I want this loan to lead to good things for him

[zepskies]

Show Me - Part 2

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: I know I said I'd release this on Wednesday, but I thought I'd get this out a bit early. Here’s Part 2! **Read Part 1 here.

Word Count: 5,300

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, body appreciation.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: “A Thorough Reminder”

It’s a few hours’ drive back to Lebanon.

Dean stops at one of your favorite restaurant chains for takeout, though he notices how you only eat about half of what you ordered. Even he managed to eat all of his bacon cheeseburger, and that was after an entire afternoon of snacking and day drinking.

“Thought you were hungry,” he says.

You shrug as you package up the rest of your dinner and lean back in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know. Guess I don’t have much of an appetite today.”

You’re normally a stress eater, by trade. But today, a familiar anxiety has crept in, taking root in your chest, and creating a mental block between your throat, your brain, and your stomach.

Despite what some people might like to believe, Dean does notice the small things, when it matters.

He glances at you, catches the way you rub at your tired face and release a small sigh.

“You okay?” he can’t help but ask.

You nod absently. “I’m fine, Dean.”

His lips press together. That doesn’t sound like fine. It sounds a lot like Winchester fine.

“I didn’t know he was a hunter,” he remarks.

You both know who he’s referring to. You look over at him, resigned, and a little annoyed.

Dean’s palms lift halfway off the steering wheel as he shrugs.

“You made it seem like he was a normal Joe,” he says. “Some dude you met in Miami.”

“We did meet in Miami,” you confirm. Part of you falters with another sigh. You don’t want to talk about this, but you suppose you might as well get it over with. Dean deserves an explanation.

“Okay, here it is,” you begin. “Carter came into town on a job. I caught wind of it not long after he did, and when we eventually ran into each other, we agreed to work the case…”

And you and Carter were good together, at least on the hunt. There had been a certain rugged charm and confidence to him that had drawn you in (apparently, you had a type). When he’d asked to stay with you for a few days, you hadn’t been able to say no.

“I thought it was because…he wanted to see more of me,” you explain. Your expression turns dry. “Maybe that was part of it, but mainly, he was broke. He literally couldn’t leave. Not until he scored some cash.”

Dean doesn’t want to think about how that guy charmed you, luring you in with what he thought you might want to hear. Though he processes all this with a nod. You’ve filled in most of the gaps, and he thinks he knows where this part of the story leads to: the one thing you did tell him about your ex.

“So you helped him get a job,” Dean supplies. His wry gaze meets yours. “At the local strip joint.”

“As a bouncer,” you specify. “He wasn’t qualified for much else. As it was, he needed me to talk to the manager for him. It was a Miami club run by Latinos. They weren’t going to hire a random white guy off the street who didn’t even speak Spanish.”

“Not until you finessed them,” Dean smirked.

You flash him a small smile. “I’m good with people.” 

You hadn’t realized it at the time, under the haze of a hunters’ romance, but everything with Carter had been at his convenience, and whatever he needed from you. A hunting partner. A bit of money (a loan, he’d claimed). Some good food and a place to stay, free of charge. Not to mention a warm bed.

The giver in you had been all too ready to oblige.

“And when he got enough money to hit the road, he asked me to go with him,” you continue. “My grandma was still alive at the time. I had never left the city for more than a few days before, in case she needed me, but she told me to go. To live my life…so I did.”

You turn to Dean then. You suck in a breath as your eyes begin to sting.

“It’s my biggest regret,” you say. “She was gone by the end of the year.”

Dean sobers. His eyes soften, and he reaches across your thigh for your hand. You lace your fingers with his.

“I told you, she basically raised me,” you say. You brush away a tear from your cheek, sniffling. “…I should’ve been there.”

Dean raises your hand to his lips. “That’s not on you.”

You shake your head instead of answering. You’d been on a hunt with Carter when you got the call from your grandma’s neighbor. For almost a year, you’d lost what you hadn’t realized was precious time.

Meanwhile, you’d become what you’d thought was a partner, both on the Job and in life. Turns out, you’d been more like a sidekick, allowing Carter to tell you where, when, and how. It took your grandmother’s death to snap you out of the trance. 

So you went home, picked up the pieces of your life…and you started again, somehow.

“A few months later,” you say, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I met you in a dirty bar in Las Cruces.”

He shoots you a more amused look.

“You mean you tried to hustle me,” he says.

Your lips curve into a grin. “Oh, please. You knew what you were getting into.”

Dean chuckles at that, tossing his head back against his headrest.

“Well, not exactly,” he says. Your hand is still tucked in his, and his thumb draws back and forth across your fingers.

He hadn’t known you were a hunter at first. He’d noticed your curves in those tight jeans and fitted top, your red lips, the shade of your hair, the perceptive gleam in your eyes—he’d liked it all.

Still, after he watched you hustle a guy out of all his money that night, just to give him $30 back so he could afford to get home…he’d known then that there was something special about you.

Then you’d slid into the seat next to him at the bar. Your English had been as smooth as your Spanish, and he’d been all too willing to get hooked into a game of pool with you.

He hadn’t known then that he was staring into the face of his future. 

“I knew I wanted you in my bed that night,” Dean says. His easy smile is flirtatious, but his eyes are honest, finding yours. “I just didn’t count on you being even more badass than I took you for.”

Your cheeks warm as you fight a deeper smile, shaking your head.

You lean over as far as you can with your seatbelt on and press a kiss to his cheek. You linger there, with your hand reaching out to caress his face. You don’t want his eyes to leave the road, but you want him to know what he means to you right now. 

After you pull away, he gives you one of those grins, and his eyes are dancing. It makes him both a giant dork, and incredibly charming all at once.

Not for the first time, you’re grateful to know this man—let alone be with him.

And yet, Dean knows.

Something’s not quite right with you.

He feels it in his gut when you two get back to the bunker that night. You shower quickly and alone, and you took a change of clothes into the bathroom with you, like he’s never seen you naked before.

By the time Dean finishes his own shower and gets dressed, you’re getting ready for bed as you putter about the room. He eyes your long pants and sweatshirt.

“You cold?” he asks, while digging in his dresser for a clean pair of sweatpants.

You spare him a glance, but you don’t fully turn to him while you go through your skincare routine with your hair clipped up.

“No, I’m good,” you reply.

“So why the long johns,” he quips, gesturing at your pants. He can’t remember the last time you wore anything but a shirt and underwear to bed (or less). He catches the look on your face in the dresser mirror: a slight pause, a press of your lips, but your face is otherwise guarded.

“I guess I am a little cold,” you say. You head to the bathroom again to finish the rest of your nightly routine, but you don’t see the way Dean’s frown follows you.

He later waits for you in bed. He pauses in his iPad scrolling when you slip in beside him under the covers. You've let your hair back down, nice and wild the way he likes it.

You heave a sigh. “Good night.”

“Hold up,” Dean says. With a hand on your shoulder, he stops you from facing away from him. He leans in and caresses your cheek with his thumb. You give him a small smile.

And he gives you a slow, purposeful kiss. He pulls away, just enough to see your eyes, beautiful and warm. He leans in again and angles into a new kiss, one that deepens with a spark of heat. He props himself up with a forearm above your head, digging into your pillows.

His thigh slots between your legs. For a reason you don’t want to name, you fight the instinct to press your center against him. His hand on your cheek slides down your neck, down the front of your close-necked shirt, between your breasts. He finds purchase on your hip and squeezes soft, tender flesh.

That’s when you stop him with a gentle push on his chest.

You slowly break from his kiss and lick your lips. Your eyes are apologetic.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just…I’m tired,” you say.

Dean nods and lets out a sigh through his nose. He shifts more fully onto his side, lifting his weight off of you, and brushes your hair back from your face.

“You sure you don’t have anything you wanna talk about?” he asks.

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like how you’re letting that asshole get back into your head,” Dean replies.

His gaze feels heavy on you, and you pause, staring back at him in soft shock.

“I’m not—”

“Look, I know you. And whatever this is, it’s more than what we talked about in the car,” he says, with a firm, yet gentle gaze. “If there’s something else you need to get out, you can tell me.”

Dean has worked hard to help you through the mental roadblocks you’ve had in the past—about you being comfortable with yourself, and with him. He’s not going to let some dipshit like Carter undo all of that, unraveling you with a single thread.

But your mouth works as you start to get annoyed, and even a bit angry at his accusation.

“Just because I don’t want to have sex, doesn’t mean I’ve got a problem, okay Dean? I just want to sleep,” you say tersely.

Dean’s jaw clenches at your tone. His head quirks, and he nods.

“Fine,” he says. “We’ll sleep.”

He turns around and shut off his beside lamp, casting the room in darkness. You huff and turn onto your side, away from him.

You cover yourself with the blankets up to your shoulders, but the longer you lay there in silence, the more that guilt prickles in your chest, along with the tightness of anxiety that welled up when he started to touch you.

Fuck, what’s wrong with me? you think, trying to work through the emotion clogging in your throat. You haven’t felt like this in years…

Slowly you turn back towards Dean. By now your eyes have adjusted enough to see the outline of his broad back in his gray shirt. You steel yourself with another shaky breath, and you scoot forward across the bed. Your curled hands rest against the middle of his back, where you also press your forehead. You feel his body tense up a little.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in the dark.

After a beat, you hear him sigh. Dean reaches out to turn the lamp back on, filling the room once again with soft light. He turns and finds you haven’t moved, though you stare up at him with shining eyes.

His own soften. He takes one of your hands and presses the back of it to his lips.

“Talk to me,” he says, and he waits for you to gain your courage.

After another couple of steadying breaths, you begin.

“There’s too many things I didn’t realize at the time,” you say. “He didn’t force me to go with him, to stay with him. Even when I felt like shit inside, I thought he was right about me. About how I looked, and…and what I was good for, I guess. I thought he needed me, and that made everything else okay.”

You sniffle, and a tear rolls down your cheek. Dean’s hold on you tightens a fraction. He’s listening intently, but in his silence, there’s anger. He wishes he really had broken that guy’s hand. Or at least his goddamn mouth.

“I mean, what the hell was I thinking?” you ask, laughing a bit through your tears. “I always thought I was stronger than that, you know? I just realize now that…I must not have liked myself very much.”

Dean lets go of your hand, just to dry your face. He’s no stranger to looking in the mirror and not liking the man staring back at him, but he doesn’t think that’s your problem. 

He caresses your cheek, shakes his head, and he offers a rueful smile.

“Nah. You just have a habit of fallin’ for poor sons of bitches who don’t deserve you,” he says.

You read between his self-deprecating lines there, raising your brows at him.

“Hey. That might be true, but you better not be lumping my boyfriend in with the rest of them,” you say firmly. Your arms slip around his waist, and you press yourself in close.

Dean chuckles and welcomes you into his arms as well. His hand tangles in your hair, and his lips find your neck with a deep inhale.

He knows what kinds of thoughts are likely plaguing your mind, just like he knows that whatever he says will only go so far. He presses a kiss to your neck that grazes with teeth. You let out a little hum of surprise. He smiles and begins to move down, letting his lips brush across your skin.

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower and brushes the side of your breast. “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.  

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

His grin deepens, teeth shining. “Yes, ma’am.”

This man is nothing if not endearing, and it earns a giggle from you as he moves down your body. First, you help him with getting your sweatshirt up and over your head; the collar is close to your neck and he doesn’t want to choke you (yet).

His gaze focuses on the rise and fall of your chest, the familiar sight of your full breasts, waiting for him to touch and tease.

Before he can start to follow through with his mental plans, you sit up with him and your hands dive under his shirt, both to start inching it up, and to feel him. His stomach clenches under the soft graze of your nails, but he gently pushes you back down onto the bed.

“What’d I just tell you?” he chides.

You give him an incredulous smile. “What, I’m not allowed to touch you?”

Dean reaches up to pull his shirt off from behind his neck. It’s a smooth move, and your eyes roam over his chest, and lower still.

He smirks. “Just be a good girl and wait your turn.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh. You let him finish undressing you by peeling off the sweatpants. You were getting hot in those anyway.

He leaves your panties on for now, but he travels back up to slot himself between your open legs. With a forearm braced above you, he starts again from the top.

He caresses your cheek, and begins with a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You sigh at the attention, tilting your head to make room for him. The sound of your voice is just one thing that he loves (and you know it), but Dean also loves the smoothness of your tan skin. He doesn’t mind a few faded stretch marks here and there, the lower he gets. He’s got a few scars and worry lines himself.

What matters to him is the sounds he’s able to pull from you as he nips and licks down between your breasts. He massages and teases one with his hand, while his tongue lavishes attention on the other. He earns a breathy sigh, a moan when his lips find the hardening buds, your knees starting to bend and squeeze his waist. He already feels the dampness of your clothed core brushing his thigh.

“Already squeezing on me, huh? I’ve barely touched you,” Dean teases. He nips at a plush spot on your left side, below your breast—something you might’ve been insecure about, if his thumb wasn’t also still distracting you by swirling over a nipple. His hands are sinfully good (something you love).

You utter a small moan and grasp his wrist just for something to hold onto as his mouth continues worshipping every curve of your body. Even the parts you’d usually rather him steer away from.

Dean senses your tension, however, when his teeth graze your soft stomach. He glances up at you, finding a bit of insecurity in your eyes.  

“Here’s the thing,” he says, and his lips move against your skin. “You act like I haven’t already seen and conquered every square inch of you. Like I haven’t torn you apart, time after time.”

He sits back up, and his hands squeeze your hips and thighs and ass. He moves up to look down on you with almost predatory focus. Like he’s trying to determine what part of you he wants to devour next.

It’s a look you’ve seen before, though it still makes your face warm and your pussy clench on nothing. Your mouth parts with an unsteady laugh. 

“You’ve got a point,” you nod. Dean shoots you a smirk, but he still takes your hand from where it’s been tangled in the sheets. He presses a kiss into your palm.

“You don’t gotta hide from anybody,” he says. “For damn sure, you ain’t hiding from me. You're too damn beautiful for that.”

You smile up at him, softer now as you thread your fingers with his.

He soon lets you go though. Because his hand moves down and down, to brush his fingers along your clothed core. You breathe deeper in anticipation, but his grin tells you that he’s not going to make this quick.

“Dean,” you implore him.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers. The pads of his fingers stroke and press into you. You lean into his touch, wanting and craving more. But he doesn’t give it to you just get.

He keeps teasing you, brushing your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties. It’s sort of what you want, and yet nowhere near enough. You can taste the edge of pleasure, just starting to make you squirm against his hand.

“You’re killing me here,” you whine.

“I’m ‘a need you to be patient,” he says. 

You laugh, both incredulous and frustrated. His grin is damn near insufferable now.

Dean’s fingers move your panties aside, but they do no more than brush against the wet seam of your pussy. You hum and try to press into his hand. He doesn’t heed your unspoken demand.

He thinks you’re sexy as hell like this, writhing and waiting for his touch. He just wants to savor that for a bit longer—that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. He’s the only one who gets to tease you, to be with you, to love you. 

You’re getting impatient though. With a ragged sigh, you sit up and hook a hand behind his neck and pull him down into your kiss. He chuckles against your lips when he feels your hand sliding from his chest to the generous bulge in his sweatpants. You stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand.

“I get it, baby. I do,” you pant, “but I need you.”

He falters for a moment, grunting when your hand slips into the front of his pants and boxer briefs and takes his cock firmly in hand. Your touch is soft and warm and you know how to elicit a shiver running down his spine.

Dean has a plan though, and he forces himself to focus through gritted teeth. He takes your wrist, carefully guides it out of his pants, and pins it beside your head, using his strength against you. It’s as frustrating as it is hot, making your skin flush as you stare up at him. 

“We’re not there yet,” he tells you. Amusement gleams in his eyes. “But I like the enthusiasm.”

Without warning, he pulls away from you. He sits up on his knees and grabs the nearest pillow. He grasps your thighs and raises you up enough to slide the pillow underneath your ass, which he bares after snatching off your panties. You yelp and the suddenness of your underwear sliding off your legs. He tosses them elsewhere.

“What, now you’re speeding things up?” you remark.

Dean raises his brows at you. “What gave you that idea?”

He shifts down the bed and sinks down between your thighs. You lean up just on your elbows so you can try to figure out what he’s about to do (though you have a pretty good guess). For a delicious moment, you feel his warm breath against your pussy. You clench in anticipation…

Until he veers further down the inside of your thigh. His hand moves smoothly underneath one of your thick thighs and hooks it over his shoulder. He starts with wet kisses from the inside of your knee, steadily moving up your thigh. Your eyes close as your breathing shallows.

You force yourself to take deeper breaths as the gentle feeling of his lips, and a hint of teeth, continues to make your body tingle with pleasure. You feel warmth and wetness pooling between your legs. Your core is already throbbing with need.

Just as Dean draws near to the apex of your thighs…he changes course, starting the same path of kisses up your other leg. You blow out a shaky sigh and have to clench your hands into the sheets. His name falls from your lips, both a reverent sigh and a plea.

You know what he’s doing. He’s worshipping your body in the sweetest of ways. You knew he was going to take his time with you, working you up, but this is both heaven and hell.

“Would you relax?” he says, chuckling into your skin.

You release a breathy giggle. “Yeah, right. I love and hate you right now.”

Dean’s shoulders shake with near silent laughter. His free hand soothes up and down the thigh he holds propped up on his shoulder.

“As long as it’s more of the first one, we’re good,” he teases.   

You groan, but eventually you relax against the bed. You realize now that you’re more comfortable, more focused more on the pleasurable sensations he’s giving you than on how exposed you are right now. You smile begrudgingly, as you realize that’s probably what Dean wanted all along. 

Just when your body is starting to settle into this, you gasp when you feel his tongue finally lick a warm stripe up the seam of your pussy.

Your head raises, and you see your man’s mischievous green eyes and the edge of his smile between your legs. Your mouth opens to say something petulant, but you cry out when his fingers slip past your wet folds and find your clit.

He knows where you’re most sensitive, what’s going to have you even more slippery and pulsing with need. His tongue replaces his hand, licking and sucking at your clit, while his fingers slip into your tight entrance and fuck into you slowly.

“God, Dean,” you breathe. Your nails dig back into the mattress.

You feel his voice reverberate inside you when he says, “Relax…”

He's already hooked your thighs over his shoulders. The pillow under your raised hips just gives him even more leverage to work you over. His mouth is noisy and makes you blush down to your neck, but you can’t help fisting a hand into his hair and clenching tight as he brings you right to the edge…

And he tumbles you over. His fingers brush deliberately and firmly against that sensitive spot deep inside you, until your inner walls quiver and your legs shake around his head.

Then you’re coming all over his hand. Your whimpers turn into a moan of release as warmth travels from your center, throughout the rest of your body. His tongue doesn’t stop, and your skin tingles, causing a shiver to run up your spine and arch your back as you moan. 

He doesn’t pull away until your clit becomes oversensitive, and you start to squirm away from his hold. When he finally gives you reprieve, your body sags on the bed and your head rolls to the side as you try to catch your breath.

Dean’s panting hard too by the time he’s done. He has to wipe his mouth, nose, and hand, but he still strokes your thighs after he guides your legs off his shoulders and back to the bed.

Since you’re incapable of speech at the moment, you tug more gently on his hair to get his attention. He greets you with a grin as he takes in how wrecked you are.

You smile back and beckon him with a curling finger. “Come ‘ere.”

Dean obliges you, moving up your body to prop himself up on a forearm, next to your head. You grab his chin and bring him down to you for a searing kiss. You shudder a little, as you can taste yourself on his tongue. The press of his fingers along the small of your back brings more tingles across your skin.

You feel him hard and heavy against your thigh. You let your hands run down his back as well. Down the slope of his spine, and under the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I need you,” you whisper, in the small space between your faces.

“Yeah?” he pants, though his tone is teasing. “Where?”

“Inside me,” you reply. Your thighs squeeze his hips, pressing his length against your center and earning a groan out of him. “Fuck me ‘til it hurts.”

Dean’s grip on your hip tightens. He drops a biting kiss to your throat and nods. He quickly gets the rest of his clothes off, then he directs you to move onto your side. You’re a bit confused at first, but you oblige him. He kneels between your thighs, straddling the bottom one, then hooking your top leg over his.

He pushes his cock into you slowly, making you both breathe harder as he stretches you and finds his way home.

This angle is different, but it’s good. You feel him bottom out deep and snug inside. Already your inner walls respond to the feeling of him, and you tighten on reflex.

Dean makes a sound of pleasure and presses his forehead against your shoulder for a moment. 

“What’s this, like doggy style?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he says, giving you a grin. “This way, I can still see your pretty face.”

You can’t help a giddy burst of laughter, even though your face warms. Yes, he still manages to make you blush when he talks like that.

Dean smirks in amusement. Once again, he swipes a thumb across your cheek and presses a kiss to your lips. You hold him there and lick into his mouth. When he starts to move, rocking out, then back inside of you with ease, you shudder at the feeling of him. Your thigh curls tighter around his hip, and he squeezes your soft flesh there.

“I happen to like a little give,” he says, with a lusty gleam in his eyes. “You know why?”

You’re already panting for breath. His slow strokes make you feel every inch of him, but you lick your lips and meet his hot gaze. You start to smile as you humor him.

“Why?” you ask.

“Call it a ‘soft landing,’” he grins. “Makes it feel that much better when I fuck you good and deep.”

Your mouth falls open, this time more in shock as you blush further and shiver in arousal—not only at his words, but the sound of his voice, and his sincerity. You unintentionally clench on his cock, and he groans. He gives your ass a heavy smack. You jolt with a gasp.

“Keep that up,” his voice deepens, rough with pleasure. “’Bout to fuckin’ wreck you.”

All you can do is nod and hold on tight for the damn ride.

He builds up the pace, until he needs a hand on the headboard for balance. The old mattress creaks to the tempo of his pounding strokes, and he’s hitting your G-spot with every single one of them. Your toes curl and you grab onto his thigh to help keep both of you steady.

You feel that coil starting to tighten, but you’re not quite there. You reach down between your bodies and massage your clit in time with his thrusts. Your eyes close on a gasp.

And the coil eventually snaps. Your inner walls spasm and flutter around him, making his hips stutter.   

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” he grits out. He chases his own release as well as yours. “So fucking sexy like this, coming apart for me.”

He's spurred on by the way your voice echoes in his ears. A few more hard thrusts, and he’s spilling into you. He fills you up with his warmth and makes a shiver run through your body.

You’re gripping his thigh so tightly you’re probably giving him bruises, but it’s not unlike the fingerprints you often find on your ass and hips (and probably will find tomorrow).

You finally twist onto your back and relax. Dean catches himself against the bed before he crushes you with his weight. You welcome him anyway, with your hand soothing up and down his back.

“You okay?” he asks. Somehow, his gruff voice is still soothing to you. 

You smile, giving a teasing squeeze on his arm. “Much better.”

He chuckles at that. His skin is dewy and sticks to yours, but you don’t mind. In turn, he brushes your now frizzy hair away from your face and neck, so it fans out on the pillow instead.

After he untangles from you and rolls onto the bed at your side, he lays there on his back and tries to regain his breath. You turn toward him and press a kiss into his shoulder.

“Thank you…for reminding me,” you say.

For making me feel beautiful, wanted, loved…

You try to blink past the sting of tears, but you know your eyes are shining.

“I love you,” you remind him.

Dean’s face warms and softens. He reaches over and takes your hand. Again, he presses it to his lips. 

I love you too, that gesture says. Then he smiles. 

“Any time you need a little show and tell, I’m here.”

AN: 😮‍💨 Well then! lol I hope you liked this! For me it was equal parts fun and cathartic, being a plus-size girl myself. 💗💗

I was definitely thinking of that scene in 9.13:

Mala: "What can I say? Sometimes it's nice to feel a little give."

Dean *has an epiphany*: "Oh. Yeah, I get that. A little extra cushion for the, uh..." *fist pounding motion* (lmfao)

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "Get Stuffed":

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

▶️ Next Story: Get Stuffed

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#Show Me #Part 2 #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x latina!reader #dean winchester x plus sized!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #Midnight Espresso verse #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x poc!reader #poc!reader #latina!reader #plus sized reader #zepskies writes

[biteofcherry]

You were broke. Completely and utterly broke. Student loans were crumbling down in you and your part time job at McDonald's wasn't paying the bills anymore. Your parents had given up on you and wanted you to get married after school but you wanted to go to college and thus there was no familial support.

After a lot of contemplation and swallowing your pride. You took up the offer of your friend and tried to get a sugar daddy. She gave you ticket to a place and luckily for you. The event host took a liking to you. He was the richest of them all but also dangerous. You knew he had some shady businesses in the back and most people feared him because of that as well. But you didn't care, as long as he gave you money.

However, to your horror, you came to know that your ticket was exchanged with another lady and this was not a place to find a sugar daddy, but the host wanted a wife.

You profusely apologized to him and tried to get away but he had made up his mind. He wanted you and he was going to marry you. Whether you wanted it or not.

After all, what could be your needs that won't get fulfilled by marrying a rich man rahte than being his sugar baby? Right?

Katie, don't think I forgot about this little gem you sent me! I read it on my train ride, when you sent it and saved it to properly reply when I return 🩷

I do agree that while it was shocking to find out the mistake, it is quite a promotion. In the good way. You still get to be sugar baby, but called wife and with a ring on your finger and a husband to dote on you. Even if he is intense at times, even if he towers over you and likes to corner you as you still try to rebel against some of his decisions 😎

But you can't help the way your pupils widen and your lips part, when he proves to you that you're most eager to follow his lead not because he spoils you financially, but because he plays your body like a maestro does an instrument.

As well because he's attentive and notices the things about you that many men often ignored, or didn't appreciate.

And he will prove it every day and night on your honeymoon - showing you the most beautiful places; keeping you in luxurious villas and hotels; buying you new wardrobe and jewelry; delighting in the way you enjoy food and treats; and obviously making you scream and sob as he fucks you into compliance...

and has you softly snuggled to him on the flight home, smiling to himself in triumph when you start responding to the flight crew calling you Mrs. Barnes.

#ktficworld #reply #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader

[whorekneecentral]

sd! toto? this man is the biggest sugar daddy material hands down, like a billionaire. maybe the reader is student at Harvard (i know this type of prompt has been used many times but I can’t think of anything else 😭) she’s studying to be a professor and can’t seem to be paying her student loans. And her friend invited her over to the paddock for the weekend to get her mind off of her studies and relax, where she then meets Toto and there’s a attraction which then leads to him being her secret sugar daddy?

-jenson anon ❤️

jenson anon you are so sexy for this idea ily bae <3333

you thought you knew him from somewhere; your friend ran in all the high end, luxury circles because of who her parents were and when she introduced you to the team principal of mercedes; you knew you had seen him before.

he remembered you before you remembered him - the two of you had met when he did a lecture at harvard. you were telling him that you were getting your PhD so become a professor and he said if you ever changed your mind, you could come work for them.

you never bothered with his comment, you figured you'd never see him again; you had been too busy to even think about that. between school and working to be able to pay for school, you barely had time to breathe.

the only reason you were there is cause your friend's parents paid for everything.

the afternoon goes by, everyone gets busy and your friend eventually disappears when she sees someone she knows.

you were sat in merc hospitality, having a coffee when someone asked if they could sit with you. you look over and see toto.

you tell him go ahead and you two make small talk. he asks how the PhD is going, you tell him it's slowly killing you.

"what do you mean?" the man pushes his glasses up a bit, looking at you.

you shrug, "I might die before I pay back the loans I have." you joked, not really tho.

toto shook his head, "so stupid that you need loans to go to school, to work just to pay back the loans."

"tell me about it." you sighed, spinning the cup around on the table. it goes quiet for a bit before he speaks. "let me pay for it."

you look at him like he's insane, "no, absolutely not. you're very kind for offering but I cannot let you do that."

"why not? it's a good use of my money."

"I wouldn't be able to pay you back, it would kill me to just take the money from you."

toto nods, telling you he understood and the conversation drops.

"we can work something out," he starts and you cut him off, "I can't afford that-"

"no, not like that. uh, so I was thinking more along the lines of you just giving me some company."

you get what he meant and you can't help but laugh. "I'm not looking to be a sugar baby."

"no of course not," he shook his head, "just two friends who benefit from each other?"

"well when you put it like that." you nod, smiling.

toto asked you to join him for the races over your summer break, in exchange he paid for your next two semesters.

you got to travel the world and he got the company he wanted, while your school was paid for.

it was nice, you got to explore on the days you didn't join him on track. he left a card with you which you used for emergencies but he left it with you incase you wanted to shop or stop to eat somewhere. you two had dinner together almost every night, unless he was working late.

he spoiled you with lavish clothing and jewellery to match; you told him it was too much and he said you needed to fit in with the crowd so he's just making sure you don't stick out.

you both knew he just liked to spoil you, that was the whole thing.

the break in the race schedule came up, the drivers off to rest for the summer. toto asked if you'd like to join him in England, spend a few weeks with him relaxing.

you said okay; the 2 of you spent 2 of the 4 weeks in England, resting and getting to know each other properly- and by that I mean in bed.

one too many glasses of wine turned into flirting, into touches and stolen glances and eventually you two ended up going at it right on the deck.

the next 2 weeks were on an island, a little villa all to yourselves, rolling around in bed all morning, waking up to the sun and your lover kissing on you.

you returned to the paddock, toto a little more touchy than before but no one seemed to say anything even tho they noticed the change in the two of you.

#sugar daddy!toto #toto wolff #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x reader #jenson anon :)

[blues824]

hello! First of all i enjoy your writing alot! Can u write an imagine/headcanons of Malleus, Riddle and ruggie (seperatly) with a Fem! Reader who's obsessed with shopping and drags them excitedly to the mall? Reader has them trying on outfits like a silly fashion show and etc! And can u make them and the reader in a relationship already? Thank you i hope you're doing well! 💗💗

Because you only requested three characters, I am making the scenarios longer.

Riddle Rosehearts

He just can’t find it in himself to say no to you when you ask him with puppy dog eyes if you two could go to the mall on the weekend. Plus, Trey and Cater pointed out that you had been following each of the Queen’s rules as well as maintaining a good grade in all of your classes, and thus deserved a break like this.

So it was a date that the Housewarden found himself very excited for. It wasn’t everyday that he got to take his girlfriend off of campus and go do something she liked to do, so this was a once-in-a-while opportunity. The town wasn’t far away from NRC either; just at the bottom of the mountain that NRC was built upon. Thus you wouldn’t waste a bunch of time commuting.

When Saturday rolled around, he heard a knock on his dorm room as he was getting ready. He opened the door to see you in a casual outfit, ready to head out. He was ready too, and he made sure that he had his wallet before leaving. As you both exited the Heartslabyul doors, he yelled out to Trey that he would be in charge while he was away with you. You took him by the hand as you dragged him to the bus that was taking students down the mountain.

During the bus ride, he was looking up some of the stores that were within the mall. You were peering over his shoulder as you made an effective plan on the places you were going to visit, since you were aware that Riddle preferred to have this kind of thing organized. You then pressed a kiss to his cheek and thanked him for agreeing to come with you, and he just had a dopey grin as his mind went completely empty.

Within the mall, you just let out a gasp as you looked at the huge building. You turned to look at Riddle and he asked you where you wanted to head to first. You pointed to a nearby clothing store that had a dress in the window that looked super cute, and he took your hand in his before leading you inside. You took him to the dressing rooms after choosing a few different outfits, and you asked which ones he liked more. There were a few that exposed a bit more skin than he was comfortable with, so he was definitely flustered for a few minutes.

The next store was actually a men’s store, so he was kind of confused as to why you chose to go there. You said that he needed a few more outfits and maybe even a few matching ones like you had so that people could tell that you were a couple. You picked a few that you thought he would like and you had him go try them on. You sat outside of the changing rooms, scrolling through some of your friends’ Magicam posts when your boyfriend called your name.

You looked up and saw that he was wearing some black pants, a white button up, and a red sweater over it. You stood and walked over to him to adjust his collar, and as you were doing that he asked if he looked alright. You gave him a kiss on the lips as you stated that it looked great, and you asked if he felt comfortable as he was the one wearing it. He nodded his head, so you went to the cashier to purchase the clothes before making your way to the next store.

Ruggie Bucchi

The only concern he has is how much money he’s going to be spending, but you told him that you had been working at the Mostro Lounge to save up money for this, and that Leona offered to loan some money as well (totally not because you threatened to wake him up with ice cold water every morning and drag him by the tail to classes if he didn’t). So, he was pretty excited to go with you.

As the days ticked by, the hyena was getting more and more excited. Honestly, it was annoying to the Savanaclaw Housewarden because Ruggie kept messing things up because he wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. You weren’t in a very different state, considering it was the first time in a while where you were able to go on a proper date with your hard working boyfriend.

When Saturday arrived, he was super happy. He got ready in just five minutes before he ran to your dorm, where you were about to head to Savanaclaw. After laughing at the coincidence, Ruggie took your hand in his and pulled you to the bus that was taking students to the village at the bottom of the mountain. Because it was 9 in the morning, it was a bit chilly, so you squeezed his hand because it was warm.

If we’re being honest, this trip was a spontaneous thing that you wanted, so he was just going to be following you around. He listened intently as you went on about some of the stores you saw online and how you wanted to visit as many stores as possible. His tail was definitely wagging in pure happiness at just being able to be with you when he’s been so busy lately.

Anyways, he wasn’t surprised when you spotted a really cute outfit in one of the shops’ windows and dragged him in. He would be the kind to look at different articles of clothing and hold them up to you, trying to picture an entire outfit. You brought the right guy for the job, as he’s done this before a few times but in thrift stores. Actually, he had a pretty decent sense of style, and you saw that in the outfit he came with you in.

After you got some food at the food court, you spotted a store that you wanted to go into. Ruggie was just going to follow you without a word, but he noticed that it was for men’s apparel. He, too, was very confused as to why you wanted to go in there, and you said that you wanted to buy him an outfit that matched the one you had purchased from one of the prior stores. The entire idea was absolutely adorable, and so he went to try on the clothes.

A few moments later, he emerged from the changing room in a light orange hoodie with some distressed jeans. You chose the hoodie because 1) you could steal it when Ruggie wore it enough so that it smelled like him and 2) it matched a dress you got earlier. He asked if you chose the hoodie to steal it, and you just shushed him jokingly as you hugged him. The hyena started laughing before wrapping his arms around you in return.

Malleus Draconia

This man was so happy when you asked him if he would go to the mall with you on the weekend, because he never gets invited to anything. Plus, a date with his beloved sounds absolutely amazing, so he asked Lilia if he could go. The bat fae was definitely very excited, so he cleared Malleus’s schedule as well as informed the other two knights that he would not need a security detail for a simple date. Sebek was kind of hysterical, but this isn’t about him.

He could have very well manipulated time and made it move faster, but he knew that patience was rewarded. The entirety of Diasomnia could sense the pure joy radiating from the dragon fae, and did their best to make sure that no one or no thing got in the way of his good mood. He, however, didn’t notice because the only thing he paid attention to was the way you were also beaming about your date.

Malleus had to admit to his retainers as well as his guardian that he had no idea what to wear to something as casual as a date to the mall. All of his clothing was either for school, or for more formal occasions. He opted on some black dress pants as well as a white button-up and some comfortable dress shoes, and he grabbed the flowers he purchased before and showed up at Ramshackle. The gesture made you a bit flustered, but you put the bouquet in a vase of water and took his hand in yours and led him to the bus.

During the ride to the bottom of the mountain, he asked you why you wanted to go on the vehicle rather than just allow him to teleport you there. You told him that you knew that as a royal member, he might not have had experience with the life of an ‘ordinary commoner’ and thus wanted to provide that perspective. He then said that you were not an ordinary commoner, but rather the princess to his prince.

You made a joking comment that he looked like your sugar daddy instead of your boyfriend, especially since he insisted that he pays for everything you wanted while you were there. He didn’t get it, but it didn’t matter. Then, you spotted a dress that looked so cute, and Malleus waited outside of the dressing room. He thought it looked absolutely beautiful on you when you came out and gave him a bit of a twirl. This guy has a whole other way of testing out the length of dresses. He will dip you down and kiss you in front of everyone to see where it raises on your leg. So that’s what he did, and he seemed satisfied with the modesty of the length.

Anyways, you brought him to the food court so that the two of you could get a bite to eat. He made you laugh by saying that he preferred the fast food over Lilia’s cooking, and he was practically inhaling his food. Once you were finished, you started walking through the mall when you spotted a men’s store. Your prince here was kind of confused as to why you wanted to go in there, and you said that he needed some casual outfits and you dragged him into the shop.

There, you immediately spotted some black ripped jeans as well as a few muscle t-shirts and hoodies that you had him try on. He admitted that he did like how the shirts outlined his muscles so that he could impress you a tad more. Also, the clothes were a lot more comfortable than the formal things he typically wears, so he purchased them and walked out wearing them. All in all, you both considered this date successful.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle #twst riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle rosehearts #twst riddle x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie #ruggie x reader #ruggie #ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie bucchi #twst ruggie x reader #twst ruggie bucchi x reader #malleus #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus draconia

[gatheringbones]

[“Why not identify as bi? That’s a complicated question. For a while, I thought I was simply being biphobic. There’s a lot of that going around in the gay community. Most of us had to struggle so hard to be exclusively homosexual that we resent people who don’t make a similar commitment. A self-identified bisexual is saying, ‘Men and women are of equal impor- tance to me.’ That’s simply not true of me. I’m a Kinsey Five, and when I turn on to a man it’s because he shares some aspect of my sexuality (like S/M or fisting) that turns me on despite his biological sex.

There’s yet another twist. I have eroticized queerness, gayness, homo- sexuality – in men and women. The leatherman and the drag queen are sexy to me, along with the diesel dyke with greased-back hair, and the femme stalking across the bar in her miniskirt and high-heeled shoes. I’m a fag hag.

The gay community’s attitude toward fag hags and dyke daddies has been pretty nasty and unkind. Fag hags are supposed to be frustrated, traditionally feminine, heterosexual women who never have sex with their handsome, slightly effeminate escorts – but desperately want to. Consequently, their nails tend to be long and sharp, and their lipstick runs to the bloodier shades of carmine. And They Drink. Dyke daddies are supposed to be beer-bellied rednecks who hang out at lesbian bars to sexually harass the female patrons. The nicer ones are suckers who get taken for drinks or loans that will never be repaid.

These stereotypes don’t do justice to the complete range of modern faghaggotry and dyke daddydom. Today fag hags and dyke daddies are as likely to be gay themselves as the objects of their admiration.

I call myself a fag hag because sex with men outside the context of the gay community doesn’t interest me at all. In a funny way, when two gay people of opposite sexes make it, it’s still gay sex. No heterosexual couple brings the same experiences and attitudes to bed that we do. These generalizations aren’t perfectly true, but more often than straight sex, gay sex assumes that the use of hands or the mouth is as important as genital-to-genital contact. Penetration is not assumed to be the only goal of a sexual encounter. When penetration does happen, dildos and fingers are as acceptable as (maybe even preferable to) cocks. During gay sex, more often than during straight sex, people think about things like lubrication and ‘fit’. There’s no such thing as ‘foreplay’. There’s good sex, which includes lots of touching, and there’s bad sex, which is nonsensual. Sex roles are more flexible, so nobody is automatically on the top or the bottom. There’s no stigma attached to masturbation, and gay people are much more accepting of porn, fantasies, and fetishes.

And, most importantly, there is no intention to ‘cure’ anybody. I know that a gay man who has sex with me is making an exception and that he’s still gay after we come and clean up. In return I can make an exception for him because I know he isn’t trying to convert me to heterosexuality.

I have no way of knowing how many lesbians and gay men are less than exclusively homosexual. But I do know I’m not the only one. Our actual behaviour (as opposed to the ideology that says homosexuality means being sexual only with members of the same sex) leads me to ask questions about the nature of sexual orientation, how people (especially gay people) define it, and how they choose to let those definitions control and limit their lives.

During one of our interminable discussions in Samois about whether or not to keep the group open to bi women, Gayle Rubin pointed out that a new, movement-oriented definition of lesbianism was in conflict with an older, bar-oriented definition. Membership in the old gay culture consisted of managing to locate a gay bar and making a place for yourself in bar society. Even today, nobody in a bar asks you how long you’ve been celibate with half the human race before they will check your coat and take your order for a drink. But in the movement, people insist on a kind of purity that has little to do with affection, lust, or even political commitment. Gayness becomes a state of sexual grace, like virginity. A fanatical insistence on one hundred percent exclusive, same-sex behaviour often sounds to me like superstitious fear of contamination or pollution. Gayness that has more to do with abhorrence for the other sex than with an appreciation of your own sex degenerates into a rabid and destructive separatism.”]

pat califa, public sex: the culture of radical sex, 1994, 2000

#pat califa #lesbian literature #history stuff #gender stuff #terra preta

[pedripics]

"He is still the same as when he was 5 years old. That's the best thing about him."

(via Revelo - July 2023)

"Now I'm not going to be able to mess with him or make jokes. I'm not going to be able to hit him, because if he's going to hit me back...", laughs Rubén Delgado when we talk about the strengthened physique of Pedri, whom he coached between the ages of 9 and 12 at U.D. Tegueste, when he was a " just small boy, but what he had from a young age was great footballing ability". Pedri has always said that Rubén is the coach who taught him how to compete.

"He arrived at Barça with 60 kilos, very little, and when he completed his first season with Barça he had already gained three or four kilos. With Koeman, he started to do the same work as he does now in that first year, with three days a week of more strength training. Then two, then one, because he arrived as a youngster and there was even the possibility of going out on loan; he even had offers from Bayern to go out on loan. What happened was that when Koeman saw him train, everything changed. From 'we're going to give him a work plan of three days a week' he became a starter, playing every three days, he played everything and, obviously, you then can't have three days of strength work, it's impossible," explains a person close to the midfielder, whom we will call E.P.

"This year is the first time that he has had a real five-week holiday. De la Fuente wanted to take him to the Nations League, but in the end, Barça and the Federation came to their senses and understood that the best thing was to let him rest, have a normal summer for the first time since he is at the highest level and take advantage of it to train, because in the end that way you can see his evolution. He's had five weeks in which he's been able to rest but, above all, to train, because in competition the muscle is eaten away, especially in the lower body. Maybe Tchouameni, who has a great physique, can do more. What Pedri has is a lot of endurance. When he was a kid, he also did athletics at school as an extracurricular activity, and he was very good. That resistance lacked to generate muscle. Chema Martínez has one type of muscle, Usain Bolt another. He had a more fibrous muscle and now he had to gain a bit more volume for 1v1s, and also at the lower body level. The image that has made an impact is that of the arms, but the work above and below has been compensated and worked on following a guideline set by Barça", says E.P., who puts Pedri's current weight at 67 kilos.

The Tenerife native has gained two kilos with that physical work done this summer and is not recommended to gain "more than one". "To take him to the 70 would be too much. That would be the limit. What all parties consider is that he is a player who has to gain muscle mass but he shouldn't change his physiognomy completely. He is a lightweight footballer. His mental rapidity leads him to have quickness of movement, to have some dribbling. If he is heavy with the size he is, 1.74m., he would become in quotes, a 'barrel'," explains E.P., who is clear about what is not the goal in the work that the Barça midfielder is doing: "The objective is not to turn him into a muscular beast because he is not like that. He has a similar physique to Messi. Messi is obviously the best, I hope he comes as close as possible, but he will never be able to be Cristiano. Neither Messi nor Pedri could be Cristiano. Neither does he have the physique of Gavi, who has a more powerful lower body, but Gavi's style of football demands more of that than Pedri's game. It would be a mistake", reflects E.P., who specifies that the Tenerife native has done "a lot of cycling, eccentric pull-ups - those where you go up and then you have to hold on when you come down - and work on the pitch, above all".

'Four Friends'

Those who have closely experienced the physical work and nutritional diet that Pedri has followed during these five weeks have been Dani Carreras, Fran Llarena and Rubén Suárez, the three best childhood friends of the footballer, ex-players of Tegueste, where they were under Rubén's orders.

The 'Four friends', like David Trueba's novel, have shared a summer in a villa in Adeje (Tenerife), although their coexistence has been stricter and based on rest, physical work and a rigorous diet that they have all followed. "In the villa, we had a cook who prepared the food for Pedri's diet. Lots of vegetables, lots of vegetables with spices and fish, sometimes meat. But above all, lots and lots of vegetables. I wanted to eat more, but well, we've adapted to him", says Dani, a striker in the team that Pedri played for from "4 to 16-17 years old".

"It has been a hypercaloric diet, with a high intake of calories to be able to compensate for the expenditure of energy and to be able to evolve the muscle. It depends on the day, the work to be done, the moment, but it has been over 3,000 calories," says E. P. with a figure that is far from the perception of Pedri's friends.

"We ate a lot but, of course, few calories in reality: a lot of vegetables, obviously more than five pieces of fruit a day, when it was time for pasta we ate a lot of pasta, but always in measured quantities. We could skip it a bit because the diet wasn't really for us but for him. Everyone followed his diet...", laughs Fran, Pedri's friend "practically since they were born". "My mother put me into a small football team when I was 3 and he was put into the same football team from 3 to 5 years old. We also lived super close here in Tegueste, about 200 meters away, and we've always been friends since we were kids," says Fran, mediocre "like Pedri, but a bit further back. "

They played together until they joined the youth team, when Fran was signed by Tenerife. This summer, as well as being a friend, he has acted as a personal trainer to the Culé footballer. "He has worked every day: in the gym, he worked five days, rested on Saturdays and Sundays, and outside of it is true that he worked more because we went to the football pitch almost every day for speed training and cardio. We went here in the south of Tenerife, to Tenerife Top Training - where I am also told that Courtois occasionally goes - to a field called T3, and there we worked with cones. I helped him with explosiveness, if I had to pass him balls, put the cones on him... I helped him and trained with him. There was a day when he killed me to run with him and I said: 'No more'", recalls Pedri's friend, with whom he has also shared afternoons of paddle tennis and paddleball.

They have hardly left the village for anything other than training or eating out one day a week. In Adeje, they have enjoyed the swimming pool, "we have played a lot of Monopoly and Catan, and cards, baraja española (spanish card deck); al Presidente", says Dani.

It's been days based on the physical and nutritional discipline that Pedri has been fulfilling to the letter, with a self-demanding attitude that has grown as a result of the injury he suffered last February against Manchester United in the Europa League. In a solo action, he injured the rectus anterior of his right leg. It was the 41st minute. He himself asked to be substituted. That day was a before and after for the player, explains Fran: "He is very demanding because he has already had several injuries and since then he has changed his training and eating patterns to try not to relapse. His nutritionist was on top of it, because there have been many injuries to the same muscle in the 2-3 years he has been in professional football, this would be his fourth, which is noticeable at the end of the day; the 70 games he played in his first year at Barça are going to take their toll on him now, at any time. He's always taken care of his training, but this time it's more exaggerated".

A task in which he is helped by his disciplined personality. "He has never, never, never been a soft drink drinker, he always drinks water or isotonic drinks, sports drinks", Dani explains. Rubén recalls that "he has never been one for sweets either". "He likes chocolate, but chocolate products are another thing that has completely disappeared: sweets. In fact, he goes to events and takes his heavy, calibrated snack, his fruit, grapes with I don't know what nuts... And, look, one thing he loves, a healthy vice, is pistachios. He loves them, but he can eat very little because it's a good source of energy, but the ones he eats he eats without salt and so, zero problems. There is another food that he has been eating since he was little, obviously, which is bananas. He can put bananas in everything, it's incredible. Before Plátano de Canarias was his sponsor, when he started as a professional, he put a banana in his boot. Now he eats, but the range of fruits has expanded a lot. And another thing about Pedri is that he never drinks coffee. We've joked with him once or twice: 'Oh shit, if you drank coffee, you'd get nervous from time to time and you wouldn't be the same anymore'," says E.P. anecdotally, who also reflects a striking feature of Pedri's personality that is helping him to follow a disciplined life: punctuality.

"He's hyper-punctual. You say 'This is a Canarian, a relaxed guy...', and yes he has that relaxation, that pause, that semi-Caribbean Canarian tranquillity, but in terms of punctuality, he's a fucking German. He has many points of discipline but before they weren't united in anything. Now everything has some guidelines, it's blending and uniting well," reasons E.P., who says that Barça, "at least since the arrival of Xavi", forces them to have lunch or dinner at the Ciudad Deportiva.

Rosi’s Croquetas

But there is a common denominator between the four voices that paint Pedri's sporting and nutritional life: the croquettes of his mother, Rosi, which the Tenerife player himself mentioned on Saturday during Barça's American tour when asked about his physical change. "Above all, not eating my mother's croquettes," said the player.

"His mother is a spectacle, she's a machine. Her croquettes are a different story," Dani laughs. "The only treats are his mother's food or going out to eat. I had one meal a week off, so maybe we'd go out to eat somewhere, healthy food too, but eating differently from what your diet is. And it is true that he ate pistachios, he usually eats a lot of them, because he likes them, but healthy ones, of course, without salt. And little else", explains Fran.

"He has always had a fairly balanced diet and well, above all, the famous mother's croquettes, he was very well fed," says Rubén, who assures us that "you need to take time to try them because they are delicious." "They offer a variety: chicken, cod... They have it all. I can vouch for it, I recommend it," he says with a laugh.

Rosi is Pedri's mother and cook at the Tasca Fernando, which she runs with her husband and the footballer's father "at the entrance to Tegueste on the Nacional", explains E.P. "It's the typical small-town place, traditional, where you eat very good homemade cuisine, with very good produce. And of course, Pedri ate there every day until he went to Las Palmas, where he stayed in the residence, in La Casa Amarilla. They could make him slightly different dishes, but in the end, he ate what was available. It’s a normal, ordinary, hard-working family. When they go to see him in Barcelona, they also cook for him, but now the whole family is very conscientious and they are helping him a lot", he says.

His brother Fernando has played a key role in his healthy eating since his arrival at FC Barcelona. "He lives with his brother in Barcelona, near Ciutat Esportiva. As the first year they were at Barça was the year of the pandemic, they went to live together. Fernando studied cooking. He is two years older but as Pedri was always ahead of his time, they played football together for many years. They are like friends and brothers at the same time, and he cooks for him".

"Skinny and tiny"

Talking to Dani, Fran and Ruben has been visualizing the Pedri who started playing football in Tegueste in his earliest childhood, when their lives came together and it was clear to all three of them that that "weak and small" child would go far. "He had something," says Rubén, who always told his partner and his parents, to those around him. "It was to be expected," Fran says. His coach recalls how the three, Pedri, Dani and Fran, "were very good, were the best, and super nice people."

"He has always had a mentality that is not cold, because he is not cold, but a very relaxed mentality, so to speak. If the game is at 100, he would stay at 25, to give you an idea. And that control, and especially at the ages that I coached him, it was very difficult to see a child who controlled the guidelines of a match as much as him; who knew that if the match was very, very tense, he would take it to his own ground and take it to where he wanted it to be. And it's very difficult to find that at that age. Obviously, today you see him and it's even more difficult because you see him inside a stadium with so many people, and with that calmness that he shows and that relaxation and that control of his state, it's very difficult to find that in a player and, above all, as young as he is, who is only 20 years old", recalls Rubén, the coach who moved Pedri's position from the front to the centre of the pitch.

"From a very young age, he stood out from the rest. He did things that a normal 9-year-old didn't do. I always highlight one thing about him and that is that on a footballing level, he obviously had spectacular technique, quality and physique. Because despite being so small he was the first to attack, the first to defend, a spectacular sacrifice towards his teammates... But if there's one thing I've always highlighted about him, it's the footballing maturity he had at the age of 9. He knew how to position himself, he knew where he had to be at all times, which even nowadays professional players work on and not all of them are practically ready. And he, at 9 years old, already knew how to read a game, he already had a very adult sporting maturity for the age he was", says the coach proudly.

"I remember that when in one of the many games in which he was playing and he was killing it and doing things that were not normal, of course, the game ended and at that time I asked him: 'Hey, why did you decide to do this?', and any other child would have said to me: 'Well, look, I did this because I saw it like this…'. And he came in with the little soft voice he had and said, 'I don't know, Ruben, it just came out of me. ' And my colleague and I looked at each other like: 'It just came out of you?, but I didn’t even do that at 25 years old…", recalls the coach.

A similar situation to the one we experienced in the 2021/22 season, when on April 3 Pedri gave Barça a 1-0 victory over Sevilla and placed Barça second in the table. "He cuts once, twice, three times and then hits it with his left. He said he didn't know what he had done, that it just came out of him like that," remembers Rubén, who confesses that when he had the opportunity to talk to Pedri he told him: "Man, that was the same thing you said to me when you were 9 years old."

"The problem for me is that as I've known him all my life, I'm not surprised by what he does. Yes, on the one hand, he surprises me sometimes, when I realise and say: 'Woah, my friend is doing this' and I see him in a different way, but only for a moment because then I remember that it's him and that it was to be expected. From the minute he stepped on a professional pitch he remained the same. He doesn't care who he plays against. Even when we were little, we played on a court, in a pavilion, and he would tell me: 'You play with me', and the brother, and we would play against 20-year-olds, and we were 14. And they'd say, 'Well, come on, but just for a bit.' There were three teams and the one that won was still there. So we got with the team, we were 14 years old and some were 16 and 17, and we beat kids who were 20, 21, 25, and of course, they were shocked. They said: 'But what about these kids?', and especially with Pedri, because he was the youngest and the best. If you see him doing that on the pitch from a young age, with 20-year-olds, knowing that he doesn't care if he gets kicked, or if he gets his body thrown around, or if they take him out, because that has adapted him to professional football, it doesn't surprise you" recalls Fran about a physical and sporting stature that has always accompanied Pedri. Just like the Barcelonismo, which he also lived from his cradle. His grandfather Fernando founded the Peña Barcelonista de Tenerife-Tegueste.

"He is still the same as when he was 5 years old. He's the same person. That's the best thing about him. He also has a very good family that helps him keep his feet on the ground. When you're with him, you say: 'And this guy is playing for Barcelona'. Also, one thing he has is that when he gets picked on... Maybe you say to him: 'How few goals you score'. Me, for example, I'm a big fan of screwing with him. Yes, yes, I don't know what, but you don't score goals', I say things like that. And when he's picked on, he always gets it. And this year is going to be quite important for him and for Barça. He's going to start to be one of the leaders, I think. He already is, but his character is not that of a leader, but the way he plays. He's a very fundamental player, but he doesn't feel like a leader. No way, no way, that's not the case", admits Dani, who reveals Pedri's joking character. "He seems shy, but he jokes a lot, he's always joking around, with everyone in general. I'm always calling him silly and stuff like that," he laughs.

Calm, familiar, punctual… and with a low heart rate

"The important thing is that you have clear ideas, because at the end of the day, that life is not easy. It's very easy for many things but it's not always easy to carry all of it, not being able to go out, that kind of thing. That he knows his priorities and that he doesn't get too carried away, that's the key for me, beyond a kilo more muscle or not, because you have to be very good in everything and that luck is with you, but if you're not focused, success will not last long. He is familiar, calm, with a low heart rate. May he continue like that", asks E.P. for the future of Pedri, who is going to live an important year this season after the departure of Busquets, the arrival of Gundogan and his demanding summer to get back in top physical shape.

"When he has been asked the typical question: 'What do you need to improve on,' he has never said anything other than these concepts: more goals and physical improvement. In five months, he scored seven goals. If he hadn't been injured, he would have doubled that. This year he should have at least 10-12 goals. Xavi asks him to do that and he will always work to the maximum", explains E.P.. When the competition begins we will see how he establishes his physical form on the pitch. His appearance is already improved, muscular, in a "work of prevention and evolution" that his friends hope to see in sporting terms, in the present and in the future.

"Remember that he is still only 20 years old, normally a footballer explodes at 25, 26, 27, 28 years old. And that's the beautiful thing, that he still has fifteen years of football left and hopefully he continues to rise," says Fran.

"You know what happens? He has the gift of knowing how to win people over. He has a great gift for companionship. So, he is lucky that if he says 'everyone around here', I think they will follow him. Why? Because he has that gift, he has the personality he has, a personality that engages, that transmits good vibes, as they say around here. He is still a bit young to perhaps be a leader, but it is true that I think that at "Barcelona they have noticed that his presence on the field helps the team play in one way or play in another. And I think that is being a leader," Rubén reasons.

Winning leagues, taking Barça back to great heights in Europe, winning a European Championship or a World Cup are some of the challenges that the four protagonists outline around Pedri, but one stands out above all: after having lifted the Golden Boy 2021, it would be to win the Ballon d’Or. "It would be a dream for all of us," says Rubén with a huff. "It’s just that this kid surprises you every day, you don't know where his ceiling is, he's only 20 years old," stresses Fran.

E.P. has this to say on the matter: "It's not something that torments him or keeps him up at night, he prioritises the collective trophies, but obviously it's a consequence of everything, it's an evolution. Neither Iniesta nor Xavi managed to win it, none of his idols have been able to do it. Rodri has done very, very well and his team has performed very well. There is already talk that Rodri could or should have a Ballon d'Or. If Pedri continues to be one of Barça's flagship players, as he practically already is, and Barça regains its usual status of the last 20-25 years and the national team is up there, then why not, but that's a long way to go. To win a trophy of this type, you have to have powerful collective trophies, because Haaland or Cristiano could win it if they score 50 goals, but it's different with him. Let's see, for the moment, how he settles in this new season in which he wants to have continuity again".

And it’s up for the future to see how his new physique responds, but if there is one thing that does not generate doubt among his friends it is his name: "With this new bodybuilding, is it going to be necessary to call him Pedro instead of Pedri at some point?" I asked. Dani laughs before remembering that Pedri was given the name when he was 8-9 years old, "because there were two Pedros in the team and the other one was much bigger than him, so they kept calling him Pedro and him, who was much smaller, Pedri". "For us and for everyone he will always be Pedri," adds Rubén. "He is Pedro González López. Maybe when he is 55 and playing dominoes in his village they will start calling him Pedro, but in the meantime, I doubt he will stop being Pedri", reflects E.P. "Pedri is and will always be Pedri", says his friend Fran.

#pedri #pedri gonzalez #fc barcelona #barça #fc barça #*interview

[turtlesocksv2]

Let's talk Fate

ok for #kpanniversary2024 the first prompt is Fate and boy howdy is that a good one to start a rewatch with. Because from the very beginning, as soon as Kinn and Porsche crossed paths there was only one way it was going to play out. In fact, even before that, Porsche's fate was sealed as soon as he was born and here's why:

Porsche was always going to end up in the Theerapanyakul family one way or another. Nampheung was basically kidnapdopted when she was child by Grandpa T, was raised by him, grew up with Korn and Gun who both end up in love with her (or at least psychosexually obsessed with her). And when she was old enough she got out of there. She married a man and had (what we assume to be) an ordinary life for at least 8 years. But here's the thing: Nampheung never actually got out.

Nampheung was allowed her little housewife cottagecore daydream by Grandpa T. I call it that kind of dismissively, we don't know anything about her life, actually, maybe she had a highpower job, etc etc. but the point is that as soon as Grandpa T decides to call her back home, back to the Theerapanyakul Mafia, she is powerless to stop it. In the flashbacks we see of the moment Porsche's dad died, The things that really sticks out to me are these 3:

1: Gun and Korn both came to visit and in at least one version, they are there at the behest of Grandpa T who wants to see Nampheung.

2: Pat says that they will never go back to that house and that the family is rotten. (which implies that Pat also has a connection to the family, I am a 'Pat was Nampheung's bodyguard and they ran away together' truther and this leads into the last point and perhaps the most significant

3) Porsche was hiding in the cabinets when Korn and Gun are there. Now, I don't know about how your family operates but i'm pretty confident that isn't exactly normal behavior when your family has guests. Like, little kids are usually pretty excited to have company, especially people who grow up to be as extroverted and gregarious as Porsche is. Korn and Gun are obviously unaware in the moment that Porsche is hiding. Pat probably knows because I'm convinced that this is a safety drill they'd run many times. Nampheung and Pat knew that someday, Grandpa T's generosity would run out, or he'd die, and the Theerapanyakuls would come calling again. They were trying so hard to keep Porsche out of that life, but it was never going to happen. If they'd lived, Korn and Gun would show up to darken their doorstep at some point. And since they died...well, how did that turn out, hmmm?

Porsche (and Chay but lmao Korn and Gun don't give a single fuck about Chay so we'll just ignore the baby for now ) ends up in the guardianship of an unreliable gambler under the thumb of loansharks. Porsche ends up in illegal street fights to make money. He is being pushed in the Theerapanyakul's direction. Make no mistake, at some point the loan on his house was going to end up in Theerapanyakul hands, or Chan was going to come up to Porsche after a fight, and that would be that. There is no world in which Korn lost track of his beloved Nampheung's sons, not when he's so obsessed with her he has her locked up in his attic. Gun, at least, has the excuse of thinking Porsche and Chay are dead along with their parents. Korn was just playing the long game.

Is it fair to call it fate when it's being orchestrated by someone? Well, I guess that depends how far back you think the hereditary curse goes.

It was never about Kinn and Porsche at all. Nampheung knew it was always going to end here. She tried to stop it. It didn't work. She was never going to get out. Her sons were never going to get out. And now they're more enmeshed than if she'd never tried at all. Sounds like fate to me.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #kpanniversary2024 #kinnporsche meta #nampheung kittisawat #kpts

[cosmicjoke]

Okay, this is a bit of a call-out post, which I don't like to engage in, but some of the stuff that's been brought to my attention, that's apparently been being said about me and, by extension, people who share my views, isn't really something I can let stand.

So apparently there's some blogs going around vague posting about Levi fans who dare (oh the horror) to call Levi a good man and a hero, saying stuff like doing so is how one treads down the path toward Nazism, because it's a "denial" of Levi's faults, and if we don't condemn his violence as outright bad or wrong, then we're liable to start making excuses for and justifying all forms of violence.

Do I even need to lay out why this argument is absurd and absolutely childish at its core? I don't think so, but I will anyway.

One of the overarching and main themes of AoT is that we shouldn't flatly condemn people for their actions without first understanding the context of those actions. That nothing is ever so simple as being flatly right or wrong, good or bad. That there can be and are complicating factors that might lead to any, given person's actions or behavior.

Levi himself is a prime example of this, and we see the error of flatly condemning and writing him off as "bad" in the form of Jean's and Mikasa's judgmental and dismissive attitude toward him after seeing him engage in acts of violence, only to themselves be forced into similar acts moments later.

The stupidity inherent to uniformly condemning all violence as bad or wrong lies in its total failure to consider any mitigating circumstances that might have lead to the violence in the first place, and, ironically, it's THAT sort of basic and simplistic thinking that leads toward the kind of fanatical, ideological foundations of Nazism and other, similar movements. Nuanced thought, consideration, empathy and critical thinking are never the things that lead down that road. Moralistic and generalized view points are what do that. To call Levi a "morally grey" character is to fundamentally misunderstand that morality itself is a "grey" concept. There's no such thing a black and white morality. Almost nothing is always right and always wrong, including violence. Very few things, if anything, can be definitely categorized as right and wrong in and of itself. The argument that some things need to be wholly condemned or eradicated is, for example, the same sort of logic that people who advocate for censorship apply. All pornography is bad or wrong? Better to just flatly condemn and ban all of it, then. Oh my, you're going to let two men marry each other? What if someone wants to marry an animal next? Better just make gay marriage illegal then, I guess. Many Jews are bankers, and banking is a corrupt business that preys on people's vulnerabilities, thus, all Jews are really just money launders and loan sharks and need to be stopped. Killing and violence is always wrong, and so people who kill or commit acts of violence are always criminals and bad people with malicious intent or who reveal in other people's pain. See how that works? All generalizations like that lead to is mass persecution, either of a concept or of a person/group of people, without taking into consideration the actual complexity or nuanced reasoning for why something or someone might be a certain way or do a certain thing. That's what's dangerous.

To deny Levi is a good man or a hero because he commits acts of violence is to totaly deny and strip him of all the many aspects and characteristics of his personality that makes him who he actually is. Levi's violence doesn't define him. It isn't who he is. Rather, it's a product of the world he lives in and the circumstances of his upbringing and life. It doesn't signify the person he is at his core. It doesn't negate the immense compassion, kindness, empathy and sensitivity with which he regards and treats other people. It doesn't render his heroism worthless or questionable. It doesn't undermine his intentions or motivations. It doesn't rob his many sacrifices of their selflessness. That's why I say Levi is a good man. Not because he's on the "good guy side" or because he holds a certain set of ideological beliefs, but because of those inherent qualities which define him as a good man. Compassion, kindness, empathy, emotional intelligence, and a genuine desire to help others for others sake. He's a good person because he actually, truly cares about other people. Is that assessment of him supposed to somehow lead down the road to fanaticism? How absurd.

That's not to say Levi doesn't have flaws. Of course he does. He's a human being, and all human's are flawed. Nobody ever said Levi was a "perfect" hero, just that he is a hero. Understanding Levi's violence and where it comes from and why he engages in it doesn't mean we're excusing it or calling it "good". It's simply an attempt to understand and acknowledge one of the main themes of AoT, which is that a person committing a "bad act" doesn't in and of itself make them a "bad person", and that certain actions and behaviors that are deemed "bad" by society can and often do have reasonable and justifiable explanations at their root. Does Levi resort to violence too often and too easily? Sure. I've said that and acknowledged it on multiple occasions. I've dedicated entire, long-winded analysis posts to exploring the duality of Levi's compassionate and empathetic nature with the fact that he's one of the most violent characters in AoT. His knee-jerk reaction and response to most situations is to apply physical force of one kind or another. Levi is also an extremely emotional character, and is given at times to bouts of emotionally excessive response. When he kicks Eren and Jean after his conversation with Erwin. When he manhandles Historia for her initial, flat refusal to take the throne. When he kicks Eren's teeth in during the RtS arc, or on the airship in Liberio. When he tortures Zeke in the cart on the way to the capital. These are all instances of Levi giving in to his emotion and responding violently. And no, it's not good, but it also doesn't make Levi bad. It doesn't make his intentions malicious or cruel in nature. In all of these instances of violence on Levi's part, it's driven by an intense emotional response, generally in regard to some traumatic event. Levi learning Erwin might not be the good man he thought he was. Levi having to torture a man for specific information, only to have the point of it threatened by Historia's self-pity. Eren interfering with Levi's direct command during a situation in which time was severely limited in making a decision. Eren slaughtering countless innocent people. Zeke forcing Levi to kill more than two dozen of his own soldiers. All of the examples one could point to of Levi being "unnecessarily" violent, meaning in a way that didn't further some larger goal or cause, were all moments of emotional reaction linked either to trauma or urgency or both. Most of these responses from Levi, in fact, came about because he was upset about someone else getting hurt, or at the possibility of people getting hurt. They're rooted, at their core, in Levi's compassion for others. They're emotional responses triggered by Levi's empathy and care. He gets angry because he's scared or grief stricken over someone else' suffering. And that's my and other fans' only point. Levi's violence might be considered bad by some, but the underlying reasons for it almost always prove Levi's goodness. He responds so strongly because he cares. So to refuse to acknowledge the circumstances and context surrounding those acts of violence and to refuse to acknowledge the influence of his upbringing in his inclination to respond with violence is grossly unjust and unfair to who Levi is as a person. To pretend that his very nature can't be contradictory to his actions and behavior is to deny, not just Levi's complexity as a person, but the complexity of people overall. Because Levi's nature is, much of the time, contradictory to his actions, especially when one only looks at his actions in a vacuum instead of in context. He's a violent man who also holds more kindness and compassion in his heart for people than any other character in the story. That's a contradiction. But it's true, nonetheless. You can be a good person who does bad things, or things deemed wrong by others and society.

Levi doesn't enjoy violence, and anyone who says he does or tries to claim he does is flatly wrong. To say, just because Levi is good at violence, that must mean he's somehow born to it, or that it's in his nature to want to commit it, is equally unjust and unfair in the way it dismisses the circumstances of his life and upbringing. A person can be forced into doing something that goes against their core temperament and personality due to forces outside of their control, and acknowledging that about Levi and his violence isn't the same as claiming him to be a "perfect hero". He's not perfect, but he is a hero. He's a hero because he's inherently selfless and kind and empathetic toward other people and their suffering, because he's willing to do all he can to help other people, despite an upbringing which forced violence and a familiarity with violence into his life, despite a childhood and young adulthood filled with deprivation and poverty. He wasn't born with a violent temperament, he was raised in an environment that necessitated a reliance on violence in order to survive, and so we see that manifest in Levi as an adult. A reliance on violence to survive. Again, to not acknowledge that and the impact it had on Levi's behavior and actions is unjust and unfair to him as a person. A stupid oversimplification of not just Levi as a character, but of people in general, and of the concept of justifiable violence too. Pacifism is an ideal, but one which doesn't and can't always coexist with reality. To judge someone and condemn then for engaging in violence, no matter the circumstances surrounding that violence, when nature itself is predicated on violence, is absurd.

Context matters. Circumstances matter. Intent matters. Levi's violence was never ideological in its reasoning. He never committed acts of violence in service to some abstract school of thought or philosophy. He never killed anyone because he thought they represented or symbolized some great evil or threat to the world and needed to be eradicated as a result. Levi's acts of violence have always been practical in nature. Defense of himself and others against people directly threatening their well being. And further, Levi has never, not once, tried to impose his way of thinking or doing on a single, other person. He's always, always, allowed everyone to decide for themselves. To come to their own conclusions of what they believe is right and wrong, good or bad. He's always allowed everyone their own agency. He's never manipulated or badgered or bullied anyone into agreeing with him or tried to brainwash anyone into a certain set of ideological beliefs. He's only ever wanted and tried to ensure people the freedom to make those decisions for themselves, and he's only ever tried to protect people, more often than not at great cost to himself.

He's the very definition of a hero, and to accuse people who call him that of exhibiting the kind of ideological thinking that leads to Nazism is not only absurd, but a massive insult, both to Levi's character and to the intelligence of his fans. As if they're incapable of understanding the nature of violence because they differentiate between acts of violence by applying critical thought to outside factors and mitigating circumstances. I guess our justice system is similarly incapable of understanding the nature of violence too, then, because it also dares to weigh outside factors and mitigating circumstances when judging a person's "crimes" or "guilt". It isn't the people who apply nuanced thought and consideration to Levi's actions who are susceptible to fanaticism, it's the people making those sorts of accusations who are, in exposing their total inability to divorce themselves from their black and white view of reality.

#Levi Ackerman #meta #commentary #analysis #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin

[mrsjellymunson]

💿 Play Me 💿

Written for the @steddiemicrofic January prompt, ‘hole’ (thank you for this glorious gift).

Rating: T || WC: 404 || CW: Suggestive language, mentions of drug use (weed), a deceased insect (idk there may be sensitive entomologists on here 🫣) || Tags: 90s AU, meet cute, getting together, strangers to friends to more? || A/N: This is silly, cheesy, sickly fluff. I make no apologies and you can’t say I didn’t warn you.

“Hey man, watch out!”

Too late, Steve spots that the guy Dustin is barrelling towards on his loaned skateboard is wearing headphones, pads hidden amongst wild curls.

Rushing towards the record store doorway and helping him up, he mumbles, “Sorry dude, we probably shouldn't be teaching him in a populated area. I’ll buy you a new copy.”

Checking his purchase, the stranger replies, “Don’t sweat it, it’s only the case that’s cracked. The music inside is fine, that’s the important thing.”

The broad smile he gifts Steve nearly winds him.

“Y-yeah? That’s really decent of you, thanks.”

The stranger turns to walk off, and Steve realises he doesn’t want him to go. Thinking quickly, he blurts, “Watcha listening to?”

Appraising Steve, the stranger replies,

“Uh, something you probably wouldn’t like.”

Steve counters, “Sounds like a challenge. Try me.”

Two hours later and Eddie’s in Steve’s bedroom, both of them pleasantly high, a mix of their CDs strewn across Steve’s bed.

They’re surprising each other - Steve’s nodding along to Deep Purple and appreciating (some of) Metallica’s guitarwork, and Eddie’s not hating (all of) Steve’s collection, Queen and The Rolling Stones being unexpected inclusions.

No longer trying to appear cool, they start picking discs at random.

“Who’s this again?”

“Rainbow.”

“Thought so. Check it out!”

Afternoon sunlight glances through one of Steve’s crystal sports trophies, casting rainbows along one wall.

Catching them on his fingertips, Steve giggles, his high apparent. “We’re playing Rainbow, and there’s rainbows in the room! Let’s see if we can do it again.”

Randomly, Eddie picks a Scorpions CD. A fail, but they both chuckle and agree that’s probably a good thing…

Steve shoves his hand into the pile and chooses Led Zeppelin. Furrowing his brows and wincing, he picks up a pencil. “Does this kind of lead count?”

Next up, W.A.S.P.. Steve finds a dead fly on his windowsill, muttering, “Close enough”, and throwing it outside with a quiet ugh.

Steve insists, “Okay, you’re definitely touching the next one. I’m having all the fun, and frankly disgusting, experiences over here.”

Eddie responds, “Okay, man, whatever you say”, but when Steve picks the next CD he shifts uncomfortably, unable to meet the other boy’s gaze.

“Uhh, I think we should stop playing now.”

Steve smirks, repeating his words from earlier. “Sounds like a challenge. Try me.”

Eddie's ears turn pink as he looks away. Quietly, he replies,

“It’s, umm, it’s Hole…”

Thanks so much for reading!

#steddiemicrofic #steddie microfic #prompt challenge #steddie #steddie ficlet #dustin henderson #eddie munson #Steve harrington #eddie munson x steve harrington #meet cute #steddie meet cute #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #Steve harrington fluff #steddie fluff #steddiemicroficjanuary #Dustin henderson on a skateboard

[fruitcoops]

Eeeek I am so excited to send in this request bcs I feel like it's one you could really do justice. (if you feel inspired that is. There's absolutely no pressure) but I was wondering if you'd be willing to write coops becoming more comfortable around each other? That's not the right word but just the constant butterflies sort of fading and instead realizing that love isn't all thrill it's sometimes a deep-seated love and being calm and comfy around your loved one? So like one of them doing something that used to cause butterflies and maybe sometimes does still bit it's the realization that you're so attuned to them you're used to it and love it and them?

Sorry this got really long and idk if it makes any sense or not. Anyway I love youuu and your writinggg it's such a source of comfort for me so thank you for doing what you do

Fluff in the wake of Vaincre! I think this is becoming a pattern. Though I, for one, am not complaining. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, and Hazel, I am suing you for custody of my broken heart.

Sirius is washing the dishes and Remus puts a hand on his lower back without really thinking about it, slipping his palm beneath the hem of a Mickey Mouse t-shirt to rest over the bend of Sirius’ spine. His hand molds to the curve, fingertips on one dimple and heel of his palm on the other, thumb sliding along the lowest notch. Sirius hums and leans his head down to bonk Remus’ in a gentle greeting. They’re all small, thoughtless motions for a small, thoughtless night.

And it hits him.

The kitchen—theirs. The house—theirs. The neighborhood—theirs, where they wander after dinner sometimes or find well-traveled sidewalks to their new favorite shops and diners.

Sirius. His.

They’ve talked about moving, about kids, about after. What happens after hockey? Sirius can get through July now without growing antsy at the absence, but still, it’s taken almost a decade. A smaller house (a warmer house, a house that’s theirs) would be a good change. Not a rushed one, though. It seems there are endless hours to plan and look and comfortably explore.

Water sloshes over the marble countertop. They’ll never have to worry about money; not like Remus’ parents did. They’ll never be restricted by loans or debt or whatever neighborhood falls within budget. He came to Gryffindor marveling at an affordable single-bedroom apartment. It’s a habit he’s been trying to break on those late-night Zillow scrolls. They both love the cabin on the lake, but…

But maybe they’ll need the space.

Remus turns his head to kiss the curve of Sirius’ shoulder and sees him smile, capable hands working soap through a sponge. If they were a regular couple, he thinks—a different couple, he corrects—there might already be a new addition on the way. He can see the longing in Sirius’ eyes when they talk about it and feels the yank in his own chest at the thought. He’s wanted that since he was a child. It only grew more intense when Jules was born. It would make sense for them.

The things he’d do for a baby with Sirius’ eyes and his nose and, god, they can’t stop there, can they? The kid would need a sibling, wouldn’t they? A Regulus, a Julian, a James, a Lily that they could rely on and go headfirst with into the wonder of the world? Someone to lead, or someone to follow. To protect. Remus has never been the type to brainstorm baby names, but the amorphous dream is thrilling on its own.

Sirius makes a small noise in the back of his throat when a bubble pops and spatters Remus’ sleeve with soap. He’d be such a good dad, it’s not even funny. Remus can’t think about it too hard, or else he’ll start scrolling through PetFinder to find another dog to take the edge off.

He bites gently at Sirius’ bicep and feels him laugh, feels him swat at Remus’ hand with no real effort behind it. “Love you.”

“So you bite me?” Sirius snorts. “Weirdo.”

Remus exhales hard through his nose. “I want a baby.”

“Ouais, let me just run to CVS—”

Sirius’ snickering is not dulled by the light pinch to his ribs; Remus hides his grin in another bite. “I’m serious—”

“No, I am.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, turning away.

“Non, non, wait,” Sirius laughs. His arms wind around Remus’ waist and pull him close enough for Sirius to plant a kiss to his temple. It’s adorable, how careful he is to keep his sudsy hands out of the danger zone. He nuzzles into Remus’ cheek before straightening. “A baby. Yes. Absolutely. You know my thoughts on this.”

“I do,” Remus sighs. “And I know why it’s not a good idea right now. Still.”

“Still,” Sirius agrees. He sways them for a moment, then Remus feels a squeeze and the weight along his back is gone. The faucet flicks back on. “I want—” He presses his lips together, mouth twisting as he works it over in his thoughtful way. “I want to be there.”

Remus takes a clean towel from the drawer and begins to dry the plates. “I know.”

“And you’ll probably retire first, which is fine, but I want…” Sirius tips his head back and forth. Remus knows he’s running through their list again. The pros, the cons, the frustrating parts that they so desperately don’t want to deal with but have to anyway. Sirius scrubs at a bit of dried rice and scrunches his nose. “I want you to be there, too. Both of us. From the start.”

“I know.” It sucks. They might not have to scrape and save but time is not a resource hockey will spare them, and Remus is so grateful that Sirius takes that seriously. He meets Sirius where he is in their timeline. “I’ll retire. Take a break. I’ll go back to PT, probably faster than either of us think I will. You’ll decide when your last season is. We’ll put in an application—”

“—and by the time I’m done, we’ll have an idea of any possibility,” Sirius finishes, passing him a clean glass. They’ve repeated it so many times that it’s practically a mantra. Deep down, it gives Remus hope. The planning. It means there’s a chance. It means they’re on the same page all the way through. Sirius lets out a breath. “And then, maybe, we’ll have something concrete.”

Adoption, surrogacy…it doesn’t really matter. Both are such complicated webs of people and events and things entirely out of their control—Remus hates it, and he knows Sirius hates it more. He sets the towel down and moves to rest his forehead between Sirius’ shoulder blades, where his heartbeat keeps time against Remus’ skin. He winds his arms around Sirius’ waist and flattens his hand over Sirius’ belly to feel him breathe.

They have all options in the world, and yet it all feels much too big.

He spreads his feet a little when Sirius leans back. Measured inhales, pulse keeping a constant 60 beats-per-minute.

Remus laughs quietly.

“What?”

He shakes his head, kissing each curve of Sirius’ wingbones beneath his shirt.

“What?” Sirius presses.

“A year ago, if you grabbed me and pulled me back like that, I would have jumped your bones,” he says wryly, burying his grin in the bend of Sirius’ neck. “Listen to us, angsting about the future like a couple of old geezers.”

“Feel free to jump my bones, if you think your arthritic joints can handle it,” Sirius teases.

“I’m just saying—”

“Oh, Christ, I’m turning 29 in a year,” Sirius moans, tapping the water off with a flourish. “I’m dead. I’m dying. I am wasting away. Tell Celeste I love her—”

“We’re standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes, on a Friday night!” Remus protests. “Aren’t we supposed to be…I don’t know, going to a club or something?”

Sirius turns in the circle of his arms with a grave expression. “If we’re going out, I need to go rinse my dentures.”

Remus chooses to ignore that particular comment. “The cubs are probably raising hell and breaking hearts.”

“The cubs are extroverts.” Sirius cocks a brow. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to go out and get drunk with a bunch of sweaty strangers.”

He can’t help the wrinkling of his nose; the told-you-so satisfaction on Sirius’ face is fondly irritating enough that he reaches up to cover it with a loose hand. Sirius laughs and dodges him like always, biting a kiss to the side of his palm. “Anyway,” Remus prompts with a squeeze of his narrow hips. “I love you. Which was my whole point.”

“You had a point?”

“I always have a point.”

“That’s a stretch, but alright.”

“Our kitchen,” he says, tilting his chin up. “Our house, our neighborhood, our future.” A smirk pulls at his lips and he rubs his thumbs just beneath Sirius’ shirt. “Mine.”

“Yours,” Sirius murmurs around a smile. They might be getting old and married and boring, and Remus might finally be able to watch Sirius and his capable hands without going weak in the knees, but his kisses will send joy crashing through him forever and always. The future isn’t so big in the safety of a moment.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #my fic #fanfic #lumosinlove #fluff #domestic fluff

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of MARCUS PIKE'S dialogue/lines from the TV show THE MENTALIST

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE: (ALL EPISODES - MARCUS WAS IN 6 EPISODES IN SEASON 6 AND 1 EPISODE IN SEASON 7)

EP 16, S6 VIOLETS

Mrs Hennigan, why was your husband trying to save this painting in particular? 

We’ll do our best to get it back for you. 

I’m special agent Marcus Pike, this is agent Searles. You’re… Patrick Jane, right? Abbot’s guy?

What makes you say that?

Sure. I’ve heard good things about you. We’d be happy to have your input. These guys, they’re… they’re really good. And our cases don’t usually lead to homicide. 

__________________

Art thieves used to be about sneaking. Night time break-ins. Not anymore. The new generation prefers guns. This guy is the leader. He does the talking, runs the show. But until yesterday morning, he’s never killed anybody. They’ve done about six jobs between Dallas and Phoenix in the last two years, taking down about one hundred million worth in art and artefacts. 

Stolen art can take a long time to sell. So our guess is they’re sitting on a lot of the art, including the paintings from yesterday's heist. 

Well, they’ve only slipped up once. We found a glove a few blocks from a gallery they robbed in Phoenix. We managed to get a partial print and we got a hit. Aaron Polaski. Time for armed robbery and battery, he’s also the former middleweight boxing champ at Fulsom prison. 

Yeah, we brought him in for questioning but he lawyered up quick and told the CIP. These guys are pros. 

We do, but nothings popped. Doesn't seem to have a lot of friends. He hangs out a lot at a bar on sixth street. 

So, how do we do that?

I don’t know what any of that means. 

__________________

I always feel a little bit like Aladdin right here. 

It’s stolen.

Sometimes we just get part of a haul. We sit on the art so the crooks don’t know we have a lead and we keep it here while we investigate the rest of it. 

Well, we keep a pretty tight lid. Our own secret museum. 

No. Just, once or twice… 

Well, I-I don’t wanna second guess you, Mr Jane, but if you wanna use these paintings as bait, the guy running this crew knows a lot about art, he’ll know this stuff is stolen. 

__________________

We ready?

What the hell’s that?

He asked him for some napkins, so?

__________________

No, he's gonna do it… watch. 

There you go. 

__________________

Pass the rice, please. 

It’s a drug forfeiture. On loan from the DEA. So, what’s the story with Jane and Lisbon? 

No, I mean are they in a relationship? A couple?

It’s going good. You got a nice red cross. 

Yeah. 

__________________

This is Pike.

Okay, well, we, uh… we shut down the inside cameras, so you don’t have to worry about any more prying eyes, and just so you know there is someone outside the house, we’re guessing it’s another one of McCabe’s crew. 

No, we’ve got eyes on ‘em. Don’t worry. You’re safe. I wouldn’t lie to you. 

Well you’re… you were real good. 

Well, that’s a shame. There’s a pretty good diner just down the street from you. Biscuits and gravy, if that’s your thing. 

Alright, well what about pancakes? 

They have about six kinds; chocolate chip, banana, all that good stuff. 

Maybe, just a… little bit. I can have some sent over to you. 

No, you’re right I won’t tease you anymore. I won’t even mention the waffles. 

Right, well I don’t know what a canape is, but bon appetit. Goodnight, Lisbon. 

__________________

This is the part I don’t understand; we’re not gonna rob the museum?

Why not? I mean, he robs the paintings from the museum, we catch them red handed, case closed. We all go home. 

Then why is he at the museum with Jane?

__________________

How is it?

You probably like that Chicago style stuff, right?

Hmm… I'm not really in the mood for pizza. You know what sounds good? Those pancakes we were talking about before. 

Do you wanna go?

Yeah. Dinner is the best time for breakfast. What do you say?

Look, if you don’t wanna go, just say so. We’re cool. It’s good, but I like you, and I think you’re a hell of a good looking woman and I’d love to get to know you better. 

Let’s go. 

__________________

Uh… well, uh… Y-you-

__________________

EP 18 S6 FOREST GREEN

Hey. 

Coffee?

I made you breakfast. 

Well when there’s a guest, I like to make a fuss. 

Yeah?

It’s just work stuff. Listen, I was wondering if we could get dinner tonight? Or… is that weird because we went out last night? Is-is two nights in a row weird?

Okay, good. I’ll make a reservation. 

Well, like I said, I like to make a fuss. 

Yeah.

__________________

I came looking for you, but they said you’re still in the woods. I’m disappointed. 

No problem. What’s holding you up?

Have your people tried accessing a forestry satellite? They’re imaging that area all the time looking for fire outbreaks. 

I used one once to find a guy who was running with some stolen Frederick Remmingtons. 

Bye.

__________________

No, it’s okay. I took another girl out to dinner last night instead. 

Yeah.

Gladys. Eg-Eg-Egbert. 

It’s the best I could do in the spur of the moment. 

Oh, well, I’m glad. I’m a lousy liar, so you’re right. Actually, there’s uh, something I wanted to tell you. 

That work stuff, it’s actually a promotion. The Bureau is forming a task force to deal with international art theft. It’ll be working with Scotland Yard and a few other agencies. Long story short, they, uh, they-they want me to run it. Yeah, but they want me to run it from DC. 

So, I’m telling them no.

Well, I’m allowed. 

I’m not a kid. I’ve been married and divorced. I know when something’s real. And when it could get serious. I feel that way about us. Do you… feel that way? 

Look, one thing I know is that when you feel that way about someone, you gotta hang on ‘cause… because it doesn't happen very often. 

I know. It’s okay. 

What if you came with me? 

I’m asking what if we went to DC, you and me, together? What do you think of that, Teresa? 

__________________

EP 19 S6 BROWN EYED GIRLS

You fell asleep. 

So listen, urm… turns out my old band’s playing a gig downtown tonight. Do you wanna go? 

I never told you I was in a band?

Bass. Vocals. 

Yeah?

Okay then. We need a cab. 

Was that “do you like butter with your popcorn” or “will you come with me to DC?”

I understand, a hundred per cent. Take your time, there’s no deadline. 

You’re welcome. 

Go ahead. 

__________________

I got some Thai from that place over on South Congress. 

I know. 

Not really, I have an ulterior motive. Just trying to make DC look attractive. 

Yeah… yeah… 

__________________

Hey. 

Guess what? That show we missed the other night. They’re playing another one in forty-five minutes, we can catch it if… if you guys are done?

See ya, Patrick. 

__________________

Am I interrupting?

I heard about your grand jury. I’m pulling for you. But I think you did what any good father and husband would do. 

__________________

EP 20 S6 II TOVOLO BIANCO

Oh. Oh look, Casablanca’s on. “Here’s looking at you, kid.” You know Bogart made that line up? It wasn’t in the script. 

What? Are you serious? 

This is not an old movie! This is a classic, you gotta watch this. You’re gonna love it. 

Is everything okay?

Well, Teresa, I may not be able to read minds like Jane, but even I can tell when something’s going on. 

Do you wanna talk about it?

Just wanna say that I know that moving to DC is a big thing and it might raise issues you don’t feel totally comfortable talking to me about, but I just want you to know it’s okay. You go through whatever process you need to, just… let me know when you make a decision. I’ll be here. 

Well, various things, but basically it’s a love story about a woman who has to choose between two men. There’s also a baseball game on. 

Yeah, let’s do that. 

__________________

Jane?

Yeah. Teresa! It’s, uh… It’s Jane… 

__________________

EP 21 S6 BLACK HEARTS

So… what are you thinking?

Well, Abbot’s right, it’s a great job. And Don’s the best. 

Look, Teresa. I’ve been patient. But… I kind of went out on a limb for you. Pushed Don to pass on other candidates so that I could have you with me in DC. I mean, I know it’s a big decision, but it’s a decision you need to make. 

__________________

There you are. Ready to go?

Look, about, uh, DC. I know it’s a lot to take in and I didn’t mean to pressure you. 

Yeah, I did. Maybe a little. But, it’s your life and… I just wanna be a part of it. 

Are you sure?

Wow…. wow, I wish we were somewhere more romantic, but… but what the hell. Will you marry me?

Don’t freak out. 

I know, I know. You need time to think about it. 

There’s no pressure, okay?

You’re a tough date. Have you told Jane that you’re leaving yet?

Oh. He’ll understand. 

I’ll be downstairs. 

__________________

EP 22 S6 BLUE BIRD

Hey, sweetheart, How are ya?

Yes!

Okay. Alright, alright. Text me your flight information and I’ll be there. Teresa, it’s gonna be great, you’re gonna love the neighbourhood. It’s-it’s full of restaurants, your favourite kind, I got a number to an excellent… (fades out)

__________________

EP 1 S7 NOTHING BUT BLUE SKIES

Jane. 

I was, uh, looking for Teresa. 

Yeah, she probably is.

It’s for an undercover thing. So, it’s, uh… you and her. 

I know. I know that. So do you have a plan? 

Well, I was offering her a life. A home, a family if she wanted one. A future. Have you thought about any of that?

Well, what are you offering her? I mean, other than Patrick Jane?

Well I was upstairs, giving a deposition. I thought I would say hi. Stupid idea. 

Anyway, It’s good to see you, Teresa.

Jane. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #pedro pascal characters #marcus pike the mentalist #the mentalist #PPCU #marcus pike dialogue

[jamneuromain]

Hello, beauty! Congrats on your follower milestone 🥳

A prompt for you: Ransom + 😌😏

Hi Siri😌❤️

Thank you for your love and support :3

ksjsjskskskks 😏 ←that lil smirk is so Ransom! Hoe-kay, for this I present to you:

Payback Time

Ransom Drysdale x Reader (you)

Summary: Ransom is getting his payback for you, public enemy No.1.

Warning: Step-cest tendency (Cousin!Ramson x Cousin!Reader), not blood related, they are both grown-ups, Ransom is being vengeful, Harlan is very much alive.

Harlan is going to kill him.

Not now, obviously, but when Harlan finds out about what he is doing to you.

Harlan is going to murder him and write this story into a book.

But it doesn't matter. Ransom hums in content, snuggling further under the covers, sighing due to the warm and softness of the bedding.

That old man grows fond of you by day, ever since you came to this mansion on your own with a suitcase of books and clothes. Ransom huffs in annoyance. If there's one thing he cannot stand, is a random person (aka you), materializing out of thin air, completely unrelated by blood or marriage, and sets out to snatch a portion of Harlan's property.

According to the old man, you were the daughter of the adoptive child from Harlan's sister. His sister took care of your mother as her own, and before both of them died of illness, Harlan's brother in-law kicked you out of the house. Which is why Harlan's sister called before your arrival, asking her brother to take care of you. While Harlan and his sister wasn't on best terms when she married her husband, Harlan was far too kind and agreed for you to stay as long as you wish, paying off your college loan and medical bills that his brother in-law kicked out of the house along with you.

You are a pre-med student in your junior year, which means getting up early and going to bed late, spending few hours in the mansion. Even so, you manage to find the time, either learning how to take care of Harlan like Marta, or chatting with Harlan and play chess.

Ransom huffs again, not only were you a kiss-ass, but also stupidly quick learner at chess - Harlan asked Ransom to play against you one night, and you won. But only out of sheer dumb beginner's luck.

So, he's getting his payback.

Ransom tightens the thick duvet around his body - his almost naked body, and listens carefully to the soft creaking in the stairs.

He knows it's you, with your cautious steps up the screeching floor, while you don't want to wake any living soul in this house at 11:30 pm, dragging your tired ass - you have a good ass, by the way - up two floors, and rest in the room, which apparently became yours rather than his, even though every family in this house knows this room was originally his, and that Harlan asked Fran to clean up his room, RANSOM'S ROOM, for you, which Harlan announced that it would make you feel more like home if you were not living in one of the guest rooms.

Oh, so Ransom will feel more like home if he lives in one of the guest rooms when he drops by every holiday?

Harlan is probably charmed by you, some voodoo shit, or drugged by that idiot-brain Marta.

He holds his breath and closes his eyes, pretending to be sound asleep, as the door squeaks open, leading to your small gasp.

"Ransom!" You hiss in the smallest voice you manage, "Ransom! What are you doing in my bed?!"

After he yelled at his mother, calling her an "old hag", changed the lock to this room, and cut holes in your sweater, you know he wants his room back.

Not that you intend to sabotage his plans, being a guest in this household, how on earth can you give the room to him when Harlan has specifically told you that he would find a way for Ransom to stop bothering about which room belongs to whom?

"Ransom!" You hiss again, "I can see your body trembling under the covers! I have a class at eight and I need to sleep!"

Smiling brightly, Ransom pulls the cover down, revealing his - almost - naked body.

"Ransom!" You cover your eyes with a squeal, "Are you- Why- You are naked!"

"Come on, Cousin. You wanna tell me that you are not interested in this?" He gestures down his body as if displaying an exhibit. Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges your sanity with every word that comes out of his mouth, "One good fuck in exchange for my room?"

Silence. Dreadful silence fills the room.

Ransom has that annoying smirk up on his lips, looking down at his grey boxers, "...no? Shame." He swings the thick cover back on, muttering to himself, "Okay. Nevermind. I guess I will just ... enjoy this soft cushy bed on my own..."

"Hugh Ransom Drysdale!" You tear the heavy duvet from his body, "GET OUT OF MY BED!"

Okay fine. He looks like a living Adonis with his abs and biceps. So what?

You avoid looking at his God-like body and his eyes, whisper-yelling, "Get off or I swear I will wake up everyone in this house and tell them about how awful you are!"

Ransom yawns, completely oblivious to your weak threat, which he knows it is the last thing you will do - make a fuss about your living condition in front of all these Cold-blooded creatures.

"Ransom!" You huff at his attempt of grabbing the duvet, "If you insist on taking up my bed, at least you can tell me where the empty guest room is."

"Nope." Answers Ransom, popping the "p" between his wickedly seducing lips, "You got two options here. The floor," he points at the small space between the mahogany desk and the four-posters, "or here." He pats on his bed - wait that's your bed! - softly, "With me."

You clutch the edge of your sweater tightly, a small movement that did not missed Ransom's eyes.

"Or good luck finding Franny in this god forsaken house and 'waking up everyone' to tell them about how I mistreated my cousin." Ransom grins, "So, what do you think?"

It doesn't surprise Ransom when you take the duvet completely and roll up some of your clothing for a makeshift pillow on the floor. You are too tired to argue and too scared to disturb a family you barely know.

You turn off the light and lie down on the ground without another word.

... he may have gone a little too far.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a soft sigh of yours. Why should he feel weird about this? You are the one who is about to be part of Harlan's will and snatch Harlan's adoration. Taking up your bed - his bed, whatever whose bed seems childish. It bothers you, sure, but he never wanted for you to sleep on the ground.

Christ, why couldn't you be a kiss-ass for him like how you treat Harlan? That way he'd feel much more comfortable about making you sleep on the cold, hard, creaking floor - ugh!

Ransom cannot bear the thought any longer of you sleeping on the ground, which is why he gets up from the bed, swings his sweater and pants over his shoulders, and kicks your foot condescendingly, "Your bed sucks." Before strolling out of the room, stepping on the staircases loudly so the entire house could hear.

You suck. He thinks, setting foot on the creakiest spot he could find for these wooden planks. And if he cannot sleep at almost 12 o'clock, neither will the rest of the house.

Find Jammy's 500 Follower's Celebration here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drydale x reader #ransom drysdale angst #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale #jammy's 500 celebration #writing challenge

[pineappleandcake]

OMG OMG OMG LISA YOU HAVE TO FUCKING HEAR ME OUT OUIWEDNOJA 😭😭😭😭😭

I WAS EATING DINNER WHEN I SUDDENLY THOUGHT OF AN IDEA FOR A YANDERE FIC

YOU REMEMBER HOW IN THE HARBINGERS TRAILER IT SHOWED A SCENE WITH PIERRO WITH THE CHESS BOARD???

IMAGINE THIS. YOUR FATHER IS IN DEBT AND HE STILL CAN’T PAY IT BACK EVEN AFTER BORROWING MONEY FROM THE NORTHLAND BANK…THEN DADDY PIERRO SHOWS UP 😍🥵💗💗💗 <333

YOU RECIEVE A LETTER SAYING TO SHOW UP AT ZAPOLARNY PALACE AND IF YOU WIN A MATCH OF CHESS AGAINST PIERRO THEN YOUR DEBT WILL BE PAID BACK…HOWEVER IF YOU LOSE THEN THE READER WILL BE FORCED INTO A MARRIAGE WITH PIERRO <3333

AHHHHH IM JUST HAVING MASSIVE PIERRO BRAINROT RIGHT NOW AOOAKAOAKAOSOAKS

The Chess Board

Pairings : Yandere Pierro x Reader

TW : Yandere themes, forced marriage,and spoilers for fatui harbinger trailer?

Note : AHHHH ANON THANK YOU FOR THE FIC IDEA <33

Your family was in trouble.

Your family business was doing well, until one day it all fell down. Your family was in debt. In a last ditch attempt to save your family business, your father borrowed a loan from the Northland Bank.

Unfortunately, things didn't work out and your family debt was even larger now.

However one day you and your mom were eating dinner in the kitchen table when your dad came in with a letter in his hand.

It read :

"I see that you are in huge debt after borrowing money from the Northland Bank. I'm here to offer you a deal; come to Zapolarny Palace at 7:00 for a match of chess. If you win, your debt will be paid back."

It was too good to be true. That's what you were thinking when you read the letter that your father handed you. Why would someone pay back your debt without wanting something in return.

"The letter has a fatui symbol on it" Your father murmered, "it wouldn't be a wise idea not to show up"

And that's how you got here. Inside Zapolarny Palace being escorted by a fatui agent who lead you into a room.

A fatui harbinger greeted your father

In the middle the long and empty quiet room was your father and the 1st fatui harbinger going by the name of "Pierro".

The air in the room felt intense as you had sat down on the chair and watched the chess match between the both of them.

You could hear the snowstorm howling outside as you tried to focus on the match. You were getting nervous and scared. All sorts of thoughts were running through your mind such as "what would happen if your father lost" and "what will happen to our family now if your father didn't win".

"You never told us what would happen if we lost" You said voicing out your thoughts.

You almost fell out of your chair as Pierro gruff voice boomed through the room.

"You'll see what happens my dear."

You gave him a horrified look.

"Hmm cute" Pierro thought as the both of them continued on with the match.

Pierro's face looked calm and his gaze was cold while your father was trying to keep it cool. You could tell he was nervous.

"that's it that's it" your father thought while trying to keep it cool "if i move my piece here ill win next turn.."

You noticed the move your father made but then you realized something wasn't right. Pierro was a fatui harbinger. The strongest one in fact and the leader of all of them. He couldn't lose that easily right?..

You prayed that your thoughts were wrong. You prayed that your father would win the match so all of your debts could be paid. Ywere so nervous that you closed your eyes in anticipation. In your head you counted to 10 to 1.

10..

9..

8..

7..

6..

5..

4..

3..

2..

1-

"checkmate."

You opened your eyes and gasped.

You saw your father's king chest piece knocked down.

Pierro had won the match.

You were devastated and heartbroken. Words couldn't describe the emotions you were feeling at that very moment.

Pierro got up from his seat and grabbed you. He hung you over his shoulder as he said

"Y/N is mine now. I'll make sure your debts are paid though."

In the end you wished you could say this had a happy ending. Your family debt was paid. But at what cost?

You.

#yandere blog #yandere #yandere pierro #yandere pierro x reader #pierro #pierro x reader #fatui harbingers #fatui pierro #pierro x y/n #pierro x you #tw. yandere #tw yandere #tw obsession #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #yandere pierro x you #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers x reader #yandere fatui #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere arlecchino #yandere capitano #yandere capitano x reader #yandere pantalone #yandere genshin #yandere genshin imagines #genshin impact pierro

[tickle-minion]

The Photo Shoot

Pretty safe for work tickling story. Ended up a bit longer than I expected, but what can you do?

------

Ryan always knew he was going to make it big.  Ever since he was in high school he’d always gotten the lead parts in the school plays, and now that he was in university he was showing success in independent student productions.  Of course he didn’t make any money off of any of those, and tuition for his school was expensive, which meant he had to work and had thousands in student loans to look forward to once he was done.  He took this all in stride since he knew there was a pot of gold at the end of this very expensive rainbow.

One thing Ryan knew he needed if he was going to continue trying to be an actor was to get some professional pictures taken for auditions.  So far he’d gotten free head shots taken by photography students.  The problem is you get what you pay for, and some of the shots were clearly student work.

Luckily for Ryan, there were other photographers in town who were willing to work with students to get them some professional shots at a reduced rate.  After a few days of searching, Ryan came across a photographer named Jay.  He liked what he saw on Jay’s website (and liked his student discount even more) so he made an appointment to meet him.  The two met for a consultation and Ryan booked a time slot to come to Jay’s studio. 

On the day of the shoot, Jay brought several pairs of clothes to wear.  Something formal, something casual, some streetwear, etc.  When it came to the casual look, Jay instructed Ryan to take off his shoes and socks.

“Take them off?  Why?”

“Shows vulnerability.  Most people don’t show their feet at all, so it exposes a little bit more of you.”

Ryan wasn’t entirely convinced, but he still pulled off his shoes and socks and continued with the session.

It may have been his imagination, but Ryan felt that Jay kept glancing down at his bare feet.  It wasn’t super obvious, and as far as Ryan could tell his feet were never the focus of any shots, but Jay’s eyes kept trailing down to them.  Strange, yes, but Ryan didn’t want to cause a scene when he felt there was so much on the line.

Finally, with that last shot, they were done.

“Alright Ryan, that just about wraps it up.  I think we got some good shots, but it will take me a few days to go through and clean them up.”

“Wow, alright, thanks.  I’m looking forward to it.  Can’t wait to see how they turn out.”

Ryan started to put his socks back on.

“Hey, kid, before you go any further, I have a business proposition for you.  That is, if you’re looking to make a few bucks.”

Ryan stopped and looked over at the photographer.  Extra money was never a bad thing.

“I mean, money is money, I guess.  What are you looking for?  This isn’t something dirty, is it?  Because I’m not taking off my clothes.”

“Don’t worry, you’re already as undressed as you’d need to be.  I just want to make a little video to post on my website.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve seen your website.  You don’t have videos.”

The photographer gave a large toothy grin.

“Not that website, a different one.  Here, come and take a look.”

Jay motioned for Ryan to follow him to the back of the studio where he had a large computer setup.  Camera equipment and props were everywhere.

“Alright, just better not be anything too freaky.”

Ryan walked over to the far end of Jay’s studio on bare feet.  When he got to the computer he was shocked by what he saw on the screen.

“Are those guys getting… tickled?”

Jay nodded and scrolled down the page a bit, showing Ryan more videos.  Each one showed a young man (around Ryan’s age) being tickled.  Some were tied up, some had their feet in stocks, and some just had their ankles being held down.  Most were dressed like Ryan (which is to say fully dressed except for the shoes and socks), but others were in various states of undress.  No one looked naked, though.

“Yup.  Tickling sells well, you know.  Lots of guys, and hell, women too, love seeing guys getting tickled.  And it pays.”

Ryan’s ears perked up.

“People are willing to pay?”

“Oh sure.  People are willing to pay for these videos if the model is cute and ticklish enough.  And I have to say kid, you’re the exact type of guy they like to see.”

Ryan didn’t have much to say.  His eyes stayed glued to the screen.

“I’ll make you a deal.  You let me tickle you a little bit, just your feet so you don’t have to take anything else off, and not only will I not charge you for the shots, but I’ll actually give you a bit of what the video makes.  What do you say?”

Ryan wanted to say no right away, but he hesitated.  Not only would he get his shots for free, but he’d also get some cash for it, too?  It seemed too good to be true.

“I mean… alright.  I guess.  As long as this is just tickling.  I’m not doing anything else.”

“Alright, sounds good.  And don’t worry, all I do is tickle guys, nothing else.”

Jay explained what would happen: Ryan would lay face down on a couch in the studio, so no one could see his face, and hang his bare feet over the side of the couch.  Jay would sit on his legs and tickle his feet.  It sounded easy enough.  Ryan lay down, letting Jay move his body a little bit for the camera, and let himself relax (as much as he could).  Once he was in place, Jay set up the camera and started recording.

Ryan was laying down on his stomach, bare feet on the arm of the couch, when he felt Jay straddle his ankles.

“Alright folks, this is our new tickle toy Brad.  This is his first time with us, so let’s see how ticklish he is.”

Ryan (apparently going by the name Brad) tensed his whole body, waiting for whatever was supposed to come.  Suddenly, he felt one finger on his right sole.  It started up near his heel and trailed down towards his toes.  Ryan flexed and curled his foot at the light ticklish sensation.  No one had ever touched his feet (not that he could remember, anyways) so it was a strange feeling.  The finger repeated the same movement on his left sole.  This time Ryan wiggled a little bit under Jay, his foot waving side to side.

“Got some squirming going on it looks like.  Let’s try something a little more ticklish”

One finger, one at a time, on each sole was suddenly replaced with five fingers on each sole.  Those fingers dug into the insteps of his feet, scratching the soft sensitive skin there.  Ryan jumped (though stayed pinned down by Jay’s weight) and started to kick his feet.  

“Oh shit, what the fuck?!”

“Oh yeah, we got a ticklish one here.”

The fingers really worked their way in there, kneading the flesh of his feet.  Ryan kept trying to kick those tickling fingers away, but Jay’s grip was just too strong.  There was nothing that Ryan could do to make it stop.  He could, of course, always say stop, but then he’d have to pay for his headshots.  That was a huge motivation to stay here on the couch.

Several minutes after just assaulting the center of his feet, the hands started roaming over the real estate that was Ryan’s soft size 12 soles.  The fingers came up to Ryan’s heels and attacked.  Ryan jumped, and was suddenly barking out with laughter when Jay found an especially ticklish spot: the part of his sole right before his heel.  

“Oh, sounds like we got a live one here!”

“NOO!  PLEEEEASE!”

Fingers descended on that spot on each foot.  It wasn’t just fingers working their way into the foot, but now nails were scraping and scratching too.  The only thing Ryan’s over stimulated mind could think of was that this was like ringing a doorbell.  It was loud, it was intense, and it was beyond annoying that Jay found this spot that reduced him to a laughing mess.

“Holy crap is he sensitive right here.  How are you doing Brad?  Want me to stop?”

“Y-Y-YES PL-PL-PLEEEEASE!”

“No?  You’re all good?  Sounds great to me!”

“NOOO!”

Jay continued to exploit the sensitive spot, attacking viciously with his fingers.  Ryan was sure he was going to pass out when the tickling mercifully ended.

“Th-thank God…”

“He thought that was bad, wait till he gets a load of this…”

“Wait, what?!”

“Here comes the brush!”

Ryan’s entire body jolted when a broad hairbrush started attacking that same sensitive spot.  The brush moved violently back and forth with cruel abandon.  This was the worst feeling yet.  Ryan was in absolute hysterics, thrashing as much as he could, trying to buck Jay off his legs.  His feet kicked and squirmed to get away, one foot trying to cover the other for protection.  His face and throat were starting to get sore from the laughter.

“Oh yeah, we got him right here.”

Not even able to say anything, Ryan continued to cackle.  The brush alternated between feet, and each time it switched feet it was like the first time all over again.  Tears were starting to stream from his tightly shut eyes.  This was the first time he truly regretted his decision, and despite the promise of free shots and money, he found the urge to call out stop was right on the tip of his tongue.  He bit it back though, he wasn’t going to give up.

The tickling changed, and now the brush was going up and down his soles.  Again, Ryan tried curling his foot up to avoid the tickling, but Jay grabbed Ryan’s toes and flexed them back, stretching his sole out.  Jay’s grip was too strong and Ryan wasn’t able to escape.  He laughed and giggled, unable to stop as the brush scrubbed up and down his flexed sole.  People got off on this?  Ryan figured they must all be sadists.

“Let’s see how ticklish Brad’s toes are.”

The brush stopped for just a second (giving Ryan exactly one second of peace) before attacking the toes that Jay was holding back.  Oh god.  This was bad.  This was worse than the spot hear his heels.  This was like fire.  Ryan didn’t just laugh, he was screaming.  Tears were flowing so freely that he could taste them on his lips.  He wanted to yell stop, he wanted this tickling to end, but he couldn’t form the words.

Jay continued tickling those toes, holding them tightly, even as the feet started to become slick with sweat.  This of course made the brush slide and glide all the more easily.  The brush scrubbed the tips of the toes all the way down to the sensitive little gap under each toe.

The tickling continued for a few minutes until finally, mercifully, it stopped.

“There we go, that was Brad.  I think he did pretty well.  Let me know if you want to see more of this boy.”

Jay concluded by slapping both of Ryan’s sensitive soles, making him jump and squeak.

Jay got up off of Ryan and turned off the camera.

“There we go kid, that’s it.  You did good, I have to say, I think you’re going to be pretty popular.”

“Holy shit that was bad.  Like… holy shit.  You were torturing me.”

Jay laughed.

“That’s why they call it tickle torture.  People love it.”

Ryan didn’t want to stick around much longer.  He got up off the couch (his clothes were sticking to his body from all the sweat), put his shoes and socks back on (which was hard since his feet were so sensitive after the tickling), thanked Jay and left.

Several days later two things dropped in Ryan’s email.  The first was a set of edited photographs.  Ryan was happy to see that they looked professional and much better than any of the student work he’d had done so far.  The second was much more interesting.  It was an e-transfer for a couple of hundred dollars.

Ryan stared at the screen for a few minutes before he decided to call Jay.  

“Hello?”

“Hey man, It’s Ryan.  Thanks for the pictures, I just got them.  They’re really good”

“No worries, I’m happy you’re happy.”

“So… what was the money you sent?”

“I told you that you’d get a bit of the money from the tickle video.  It was pretty popular right off the bat, so that’s your share.”

“All that for just letting you tickle my feet?”

“Oh yeah.  And if you’re ever interested we could do it again.  You could maybe even make some more next time.”

“Like… how much more?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go.  There’s some bondage, there’s some upper body tickling, there’s even some foot worship and tickling that drives some people wild.  You interested?”

Ryan looked at the e-transfer again.

“Yeah, maybe.  Tell me more.”

#malefeet #feet #gayfeet #male tickling #guy feet #male feet story #tickling #gay tickling #gay foot play #male foot story #tickle community #sfw tickling community #tickle kink #male tickling story #tickle content #m/m tickling

[neopuppy]

I did have a dropped ‘idea’ because I never actually turned it into a WIP that was somewhat Mafia AU/Hybrid AU. Mostly dropped because it would’ve been long/is this even something my audience deserves(lets be real, no).

It was crooked cop Johnny/good cop Jeno(The Departed, if you will).

When Jeno was a kid, his parents owed a lotttt of money to a loan shark and they begged for an extension but time was up. Jeno saw them murdered and he managed to escape because his mom knew they were coming to collect their debts, one way or another. He watched them executed from outside of their run down apartment and saw Johnny come in head to toe in his cop uniform- this is when he realized not all cops are good.

Johnny advances to lieutenant over time while still collecting money on the side to manipulate different murder homicide cases and exchange info with the Mafia, and Jeno grows up as a run away.

The day Jeno sees his parents murdered he wanders the streets in tears while searching for a place to hole up for the night with only the rest of the money his parents had left packed in his bag. He finds an empty warehouse and hears a sound of distress coming from outside while trying to sleep, when he goes out to look he stumbles upon a kitten hybrid that can’t be much older than himself. At this time Jeno knows little of Hybrids, but he does know that by law stray Hybrids are to be killed off on site to lower the chance of over-population, especially cat hybrids.

He tries to talk to her and ask if she’s lost but she won’t respond, so Jeno after much convincing gets her inside and offers some of his clothes to warm her up.

Years go by and Jeno takes in this kitten hybrid after learning she was abandoned(but she doesn’t tell him why). He works hard to keep them both housed and fed and their relationship is more like brother/sister after all that since she’s never experienced her first heat.

Jeno graduates from the police academy and he works silently, collecting the names and faces of all the men who participated in ruining his life with his last conquest being Johnny. He correlates Johnny with loss of innocence, because watching him continue to live his life as a corrupt cop changes his perspective of humanity. Jeno’s only solitude after stalking these men is coming home to his kitten hybrid, clueless to how evil and unforgiving the world can be.

Jeno earns a lot of trust and respect in the police academy and he works his way into an undercover cop postion. It’s no easy task but it’s exactly what he wanted, everything goes well until one day Johnny traces back to a data server at that same abandoned warehouse Jeno had shifted into a home over the years and shoots the address off to the bad guys.

It all happens too fast and Jeno catches wind of it too late, arriving after they’ve cleaned out the place and taken his hybrid

plot twist: Johnny found her trying to hide, scared and cornered up somewhere in tears. He instantly fell in love with her and tucked her away, managing to sneak her out. Jeno watches back security footage to see this all unfold and now he’s even more determined to end Johnny and get back his hybrid.

The thing is, through all this trauma and stress, the kitten hybrids heat slams into her for the first time and Johnny is the one to take care of her through it, even though her body initially calls for Jeno. This ends up forming a stronger bond between the two of them despite Johnny essentially being a stranger to her, she sees him as her owner now and through her madness she inadvertently exposes Jeno’s name which leads Johnny to uncovering who the snitch is.

This fic would have ended in major character death😅 I won’t say who tho😘💚

#anyway #would have been good tho…

[whyeverr]

Today is Election Day in the US. 🗳

My reach is small—and my influence essentially nonexistent—but it still feels important to say something, especially knowing how important the midterms are this year.

Turnout of voters aged 18–29 is on the rise—51% voted in 2020, compared to just 39% in 2016—which is fucking amazing. But, even at 51% turnout, young voters still have the lowest turnout of any age bracket. And turnout always drops for midterms, something we cannot afford to have happen as our hairline majority in the senate hangs in the balance. Maintaining and growing that majority is our best chance at protecting reproductive freedom, LGBTQIA+ rights, expanding gun reform, etc. 

I’ve seen a tweet making the rounds about how voting isn’t a valentine to a candidate you love and support 100%, but rather a chess move toward the world you want to live in. And I might not be a chess player but I think that’s a pretty damn good way of putting it. The platform of the particular Democrat candidate(s) on your ballot today likely does not perfectly reflect your ideals. But, pragmatically speaking, a vote for them is a vote against a Republican (whom I hope I can safely assume, dear mutual, reflects none of your values). A vote for them is—at minimum—a vote to hold the line of crumbling democracy against the terrifying slide into christofascism, and at best, may actually pleasantly surprise us all and lead to something positive. I never would have imagined Biden passing student loan forgiveness when I voted for him, and yet, here we are! 

Of course, there is so much room under the sun for critiques of the two party system, corrupt politicians, Citizens United, the electoral college, etc, etc, etc, and unfortunately there will always be those who insist that voting “doesn't matter,” or in some way makes you complicit in upholding an imperfect system. But I truly and firmly believe that it’s not either/or, it’s “yes and.” Gerrymandering and voter suppression wouldn’t be a thing if voting didn’t have power. And abstaining from voting is about as effective politically as abstinence-only birth control. If you have the ability to vote, please, please make it a priority today. 🥲🇺🇸 

#non sims #election day #us politics #I know voting can be scary for anxious folks #that's me as well for sure #please reach out if you need a personal pep talk to help get you to the polls #💗💗💗 #aaaaaaaaaaalso #please DONT reach out if you disagree strongly with anything I've said here #if you vote republican support tr*mp etc #the unfollow button is right there #😊