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#always happy to see how active the fandom is here ^^
sykosugu · 2 days
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♤♢ on the run ♧♡ | five
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♤ summary: she's an infamous bank robber, and he's the only detective that's been able to get close to her. he was never apart of her plans. but he's got his clutches in her and she can't let go.a geto suguru au
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♢ warnings: this story will contain descriptions of violence, destructive behavior, toxic behavior, illegal activities, sexual content, death. use of weapons. forbidden romance
♧ aw: character death (not mc), blood, violence, ooc toji,
♡ currently: completed
♤ taglist: closed
♢ wc: 2.3k
♧ carlile speaks: omg we have arrived at the end of Sugu and Ruby's story. Im not sure how some of you will react to this part but I'm excited to find out! thank you all so much for the love over the course of this story. this was my first post in the jjk fandom and I feel like I was welcomed with open arms. I love and appreciate every single one of you in this community I've built. thank you all again for deeming me worthy of your time! see you in the next story! ALSO a big thank you to @celestie0 for helping me with this final chapter. I would not have done it without you!
♡: previous part | you are here
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Toji Fushiguro was your best friend. Or at least you thought he was. Toji was a contact you made when you were eighteen years old, fresh out of highschool and right after your parents had kicked you out. Claiming they don’t want to enable your lifestyle. Doing drugs with your friends, until the drugs no longer interested you. Then came the shoplifting. That’s where you shined. You could steal anything. Chanel. Prada. Louis V. Any of it. What can you say, you wanted the best of the best. 
You’d been staying with some of your “friends” you’d made along the way. Friends who more so wanted you to live the life they were living; sitting at home getting high all day, but you wanted the action. You wanted to be in the trenches. Wanted the thrill of the job, not the fabricated thrill from the drugs. You wanted the real high.
Toji was someone you ran into at the right time, he needed someone to train to help with small bank heists and you needed somewhere new to stay.
Toji was there for you. He housed you, kept you fed. Kept you happy, in so many more ways than one. He gave you an immense amount of knowledge. How to keep your cool. How to handle a weapon. How to make yourself into a weapon. 
“You are your biggest asset, use it.” rings in your ears during every job. 
All of the hand to hand combat you’d learned was taught to you by him. He was the first person you’d ever unintentionally kicked their ass.
“Again,” he pants, wiping the blood from his nose on the back of his hand, a sick smile on his face. He flexes his hands before balling them back into fists, taking his standing position; arms up in front of his face.
“Toji,” you warn. “I think we got th–,” you start to object, but Toji isn't having any of that.
“Again.”
And so you do. You continuously knock this grown man to the floor. His eyes grow with adoration after every punch; every kick. He was so proud. Nobody was ever able to land a blow, much less knock him off his feet. But you were so quick and nimble, he was hardly able to keep track of you. 
You’d originally only ever used masks and weapons to rob your banks, but when you met Toji your entire perception of the way you could do everything changed. He was the one who taught you to hide most of your face. Only leave behind minor details they can use. Always follow them into the room, never be the first. And always leave last. 
Toji was beyond proud of you. That’s why when you’d met Sukuna and immediately fell for his charm, his attitude changed. He was less than thrilled. It wasn’t a shock to him that he’d fallen for you, but it wasn't something he’d planned on either. He thought you’d had the chemistry, but his timing was all off. You’d met Sukuna. He didn’t anticipate someone else scooping you up the way he wanted to. Toji wanted everything with you, he was training you to be able to reign with him, not somebody else. Toji needed a way to be close to you, so he became Sukuna’s right hand. His business partner. Working his ass off to get the position he’s in now. Practically kissing Sukuna’s ass in order to be near you. Taking job after stupid job to prove himself worthy.
If only Toji had been honest with you from the start.
Sukuna was greedy. He had everything but needed more. Craved it even. Then he met you and needed to have you too.
But you showed him up. Toji had trained you beyond what anyone had ever seen before. You made Sukuna feel small; and that just wasn’t going to fly. Sukuna wanted you to keep his bed warm more than anything since he found out you were more skilled than him. Sukuna tried his best to kill your spirit; slowly of course. Taking you off of jobs, telling you that your skillset wasn't as good as others and you were not needed anymore. He tried distracting you with money and shopping sprees that worked for a while, but you eventually run out of things to buy when you have the access to buy anything you want. He even made sure to make you question your own physical appearance by slyly flirting with other members of his team in front of you; then gaslighting you into thinking you were seeing things. 
Toji held you when you cried to him. He’d smooth his hands up and down your back as you sobbed into his chest. How he’d wish you would see how terribly you were being treated. But if sukuna found out he was speaking ill of him, he'd be dealt with. So he held out for as long as he could, but you were the first one to break. You wanted to leave and live a life of your own. Toji was so happy for you, but wanted that life with you. He’d never told you any of these things, in fear of rejection from you and in fear of retaliation from his now boss.
Toji wishes you’d never introduced him to Sukuna. Toji wishes you’d be his. Toji’s world fell apart when he found out you were making beds with a cop. The actual enemy. He thought you’d be smarter than that. 
When Sukuna informed Toji of his plan to execute you for treason, he was terrified. But he couldn't say anything. He couldn't risk losing everything he’d built, especially now knowing you’d never felt the same way about him. He assumes so anyways, claiming it was the safe assumption.
Toji knew something had gone amiss the day Sukuna went to finish the job and he hadn’t returned. Toji was prepared to take over no questions asked. He began making changes in command, having conversations with his chain when there was word of disturbances in the hall.
Once the police bore into the casino penthouse, aiming straight for Toji, he knew exactly who he was dealing with when he looked into Suguru’s eyes as he stared him down behind the barrel of his gun. 
“Toji Fushiguro, you are under arrest for the murder of Ryomen Sukuna. You have the right to remain silent…” Satoru speaks from his spot in the middle of the room, gun raised at the man seated before him.
“So, you’re the one, huh?” Toji speaks over Satoru, nodding his head at Suguru.
“What?” Suguru lowers his gun momentarily.
“You’re the one she fell for,” Toji laughs from his chair. He swirls the whiskey around in his glass before he stands, raising his hands into the air. “I didn't do this, but I’ll go down so she doesn't have to.”
Satoru walks behind him to place the cuffs around his wrists.
“You loved her too.” Suguru states. “Didn’t you?”
Toji just smiles as Satoru walks him out in his cuffs. He did. He loved you more than anything else on this planet. But he’d rather you live the life you wanted than stand in your way. It’s why he helped you leave Sukuna before. He knew you didn’t see him in that same light and he was okay with that. He was just happy to see you happy.
Suguru felt bad at that moment, but he knew he’d keep that information to himself. 
The copious amounts of forged documents, planted evidence, fake witness statements.. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Toji wasn't the one who killed Sukuna. Everything made it seem like Toji was tired of being second in command and wanted it all. 
Toji would take whatever punishment was coming his way; he knew this was your doing. He knew you’d be broken once you found out he hadn’t attempted to stop Sukuna. Toji was supposed to be your safe haven, and he let you down. He knew that. So he was prepared to take whatever you thought was a suitable punishment for him. He’d kneel on the ground you walked on if it meant making you smile. Especially since the guilt ate him up inside for never standing up for you earlier. He swears he’d do anything to make you happy, but he cowers away when you actually need him. Toji knew he was a coward. He knew he could have done something earlier but he didn’t. 
Toji was convicted and placed on death row for the murder of Sukuna. The revenge plan you had set in motion had come to a head, you just had to do this one last job and then the life you planned with Suguru would be in the palm of your hand.
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Toji’s son was your last target; you tracked him for weeks while you located the item in question: Toji’s unsealed will.
The will contains everything you would need. The numbers to multiple offshore accounts with millions of dollars. The deeds to houses spread throughout the world. Everything his kids would need beyond his lifeline.
Seventy seconds. In and out.
Suguru is outside waiting for you. Something you’re not used to. But the sense of security feels nice for once. Every job before this one you’d done alone. Having the man you’re willing to risk everything for waiting for you while you perform the most important job of your life has every nerve alight with anticipation, and also relief; Knowing he’d be there if something went wrong. Your heart could burst out of your chest in appreciation for him.
Satoru is down the street, handling the signal blocker for the alarm at the bank. Intercepting the signal is the easy part, but keeping it down for seventy seconds is the hard part. But Satoru isn't worried. 
The bank manager approaches you with keys in hand, “Safety deposit room, right?” the man timidly asks. His question throws you off momentarily. Your smug smile falls as he speaks.
“How’d you know that?” you ask, reaching for your gun.
“Stop, Ruby. We’re playing by my rules from now on.” Satoru’s voice startles you from behind. 
“Satoru, you’re making a huge mistake right now,” you warn, your hands remaining where he can see them.
“The only ones making mistakes are you and Geto.” 
“He’ll be in here once he realizes I’m taking too long. You know that as much as I do.”
“Oh, I'm counting on it,” he sneers, “Now, turn around and face me.” 
You hear the sound of his gun click, making you chuckle.
“I don’t need his help anyways,” you duck down and sweep your feet under his legs, catching him off guard and making him tumble backwards onto the floor. A big cracking sound fills the air as his head makes contact with the hard floor. “I can handle myself, you should have known that, Satoru.” 
The few onlookers in the bank unsure of what to do, the silent alarm still won’t trigger.
Satoru looks up at you from his spot on the floor, a ringing in his ears from how hard his head collided with the marble. “You won’t get away with this,” he pants out in pain, clutching the back of his skull. His gun. He needed his gun. Where? Where did it end up? His head just hurts and that’s all he can focus on. His GUN, whERE IS IT? Satoru, where is y–
“I already did,” and with that you leave him laying there, your gaze serving as a warning as you pull the bank manager in the direction of the safety deposit room. He opens exactly what you want; no questions asked.
Unfortunately, you decided no loose ends this time. The bank manager met his fate inside the safety deposit room. He begged, but only for a minute. This wasn’t like you. Look what love did to you. Love and betrayal. Everyone you had ever loved betrayed you. But not Suguru. 
Never Suguru.
Sounds of fighting pull your train of thought from the lifeless man in front of you. Making a swift exit with the paperwork tucked into your jacket, you head for the source of the sound. 
“What are you doing, Satoru? This isn’t what we agreed on,” Suguru groans from their wrestling spot on the floor. Arms are being pinned, yanked free and then pinned again. The men fight to get the upper hand.
“I told you that I took an oath to stand up to people like you and her. This isn't a game, Geto. Don't you see that?” 
Suguru stops for a moment, looking at his friend while he processes the words leaving his mouth.
“Sugu,” you call from your position, gun raised and pointed directly at the white haired man before you.
“Now, Ru!” he calls to you, turning Satoru’s upper body so his back faces you. There’s silence. So much silence that follows the shot. Suguru looks at his friend beneath him with tears in his eyes. The hurt and betrayal laced behind every feature. The life leaves Satoru’s eyes as the men lock their gazes. “I told you, you won’t take her from me.” 
He stands from his spot, walking over to you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking you over.
“Fine. You?” you rush out. He nods quickly. “We need to go, now,” you grab hold of one of his hands, pulling him towards the exit. 
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“You know we’re about to be on the run for the rest of our lives together?”
“Are you complaining?” he asks from the driver's side, sunglasses pushed atop his head as he weaves his way through the mountainous roads.
“Of course not. Never when it's with you.”
“I love you, Ru.”
“I love you more, Sugu.”
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♡ tags: @celestie0 @lostfracturess @alwaysfreakingout @shervinss @jaelahh @gojolvrr34 @shesplendl @phoenix-eclipses @nanasukii28 @mylifetold @bakuhoethotski @4y3sh4 @whereflowerswenttodie @drakenswifeyy
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nebulousbren · 9 months
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The whole set!
Btw since more than a few have said they would get these as tattoos, let me just say: you absolutely have my permission 👍🏻
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daincrediblegg · 26 days
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no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly
I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.
because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).
And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.
It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.
so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.
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fans4wga · 10 months
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Strike Support Declining - Here's how you can continue to support the writers
Since the WGA strike started on May 2, the public has shown immense support for the writers—sending food, snacks, drinks, and encouragement from across the world all the way to Los Angeles, New York, and other picketing locations.
But loud and vocal strike support—in the news and in public spaces—is notably declining the longer the strike goes on. So we're bringing you a few ways to show writers, studios, and fellow fans: we're still here, and we still stand with the WGA.
1. Post on Twitter (and other social media sites)
You might think social media noise won't be noticed by the studios, but it CAN encourage individual WGA members—and slowly but surely put pressure on the studios to make a fair deal.
If you follow WGA members such as Adam Conover (Adam Ruins Everything), John Rogers (Leverage, Librarians), Gennifer Hutchison (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul), Javier Grillo-Marxuach (Lost, The Witcher) [and many many more you can find through their following lists], tell them you support them! Hashtag #IStandWithTheWGA #DoTheWriteThing and tell them that you and your fandom are prepared to support them as long as the strike lasts; that they deserve to have their demands met and you're with them all the way. Boost morale however and whenever you can!
Likewise, actively push back against misinformation/disinformation. See a TikTok claiming that all Hollywood writers are filthy rich and we shouldn't vocally support them? Correct it with well-sourced citations from the WGA, published news articles, and stories from those affected (like the time a writer on FX's The Bear attended the an awards show with his bank account balance in the negative, only to then win an award for Best Comedy Series—proving that good writers on award-winning shows still cannot make a living!)
Remember you can always link to Adam Conover's excellent explanation of WGA demands versus studio refusals, tweeted here.
2. Donate or boost fundraisers
You might be surprised to learn that the picketing locations are not always parties! Sometimes themed pickets are fun, and fandoms and celebrities occasionally are able to fundraise for a food truck or ice cream truck at picketing locations. However, that is the EXCEPTION and not the norm. Writers are asking for food & drinks at many locations.
There are many funds to donate to, and it can be overwhelming to pick one! But one that could use your support RIGHT NOW is the CBS Radford picket line:
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-If you're in LA, you can bring food and snacks directly to that picket line (or get food deliveries sent there, with instructions to be given to the strike captain on duty.) Strike locations are available on the WGA West website and are updated there.
-Or there's a pizza fund for the strike locations (unfortunately Venmo is a US-only donation option)
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-If you're not in LA, donate to the Entertainment Community Fund to support TV and film workers affected by the strike.
-More tips on donating to the strike in this great article!
-Lots of fandoms are organizing donations on their own, for instance the Our Flag Means Death fundraiser on Paypal (updated 30 July 2023 with new link) (available internationally). Check to see if your fandom has started a fundraiser... or start one yourself to show your support! We're happy to give tips on organizing your fandom!
As always, please boost this post and any and all well-sourced information that comes from the WGA or its members. We're happy to fact-check anything you send our way too.
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queers-gambit · 4 months
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Menace
prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 4.4k+
warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.
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"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"
You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"
"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."
"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.
"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"
"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"
He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".
The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.
The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.
Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.
Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.
When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."
"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.
"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"
"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."
Tan huffed.
"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.
"Sweetheart - "
"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."
Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.
"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"Feel better?"
"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"
"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."
This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."
"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.
Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.
And boy, did it.
After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.
"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.
"Hmm?"
Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"
"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."
Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."
"I've been distracted."
"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"
"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.
This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"
"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."
Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "
"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."
"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"
Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."
"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."
"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,
wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.
He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,
if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙
That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"
"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.
Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."
"Anything else, sir?"
"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"
"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "
"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."
"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,
meet me in the bathroom right now
Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.
He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"
They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"
He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."
"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"
He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."
"I still have work - "
"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."
"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"
"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.
"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"
"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"
"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.
He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."
You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.
"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.
It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.
But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.
It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.
The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.
"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.
"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "
"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."
He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."
"Wanna sit?"
"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"
"You get all worked up when I do."
"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."
You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"
You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"
"No - "
"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "
"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"
You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "
"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."
"Thank you," you whispered.
"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"
You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."
"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."
"Terrible philosophy."
"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.
You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.
"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."
"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."
"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"
You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.
"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"
"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"
Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."
His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."
"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"
"Yeah, but, now it's a game."
"You're a fucking menace!"
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
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buckttommy · 5 days
Note
i don't think i really understand pr and what actors should and shouldn't say. why is what oliver's saying so wild?
Hi, it's okay. I'll walk you through it. The tl;dr version is written in bold.
So. PR, or, Public Relations, is the dynamic between the general public (us) and any entity that has interests to protect (in this case, that would be the network + 911). PR teams are designed to ensure the relationship between the public and [their entity] is as harmonious as possible. Happy relationship, happy consumer, happy company.
Because keeping the peace is the intention of good pr, pleasant ambiguity is the name of the game. People can speculate, and people can guess, but no one should ever be able to look back at your words and claim that you've given a definitive answer on anything—good or bad—because definitive statements can harm the entity's bottom line, whatever that may be.
Oliver is very good at keeping the peace between the network and the public. We know this because we have seen evidence supporting this fact for years. He always says a little bit of what everyone wants to hear—he'll keep things vague (plausible deniability) for the sake of the network, while also giving nods of support and encouragement to the fandom without promising anything. You know how he's talked about being cautious and aware of what he's saying in interviews because he knows the impact it could have? Okay, well, aside from wanting to avoid "queerbaiting" allegations, this is part of the reason. PR is a very delicate game and he plays it very well.
Or at least he did.
Right now, Oliver is using binoculars to identify the line, making sure the line is exactly where he left it, and then taking a giant wrecking ball to it. Because now, Oliver is saying things that should absolutely not be said in interviews, or to anyone in the general public, at all. Now, he's elevating the conversation from pure speculation, to actively confirming and placing the blame at people's feet for things that have gone on behind the scenes.
Saying that Buck's Queer storyline was floated years ago? Huge no-no. Why? You were on tumblr yesterday. You can see why. People were angry, and people were hurt, but most importantly, people started to ask questions. We started to look at past arcs, past moments in Buck and in Buck and Eddie's relationship (because, whether you like it or not, Buck's queerness is and always has been tangentially linked to the existence of Buddie) to try and pinpoint when/how his queer arc could have launched. Now. Most of us have been here for years, so we can easily look back at the show and see where it's pretty damn obvious how Buck's Queer arc could have launched, depending on the arc(s), the characters at the time, things that were going on outside of the show (re: Oliver liking Buddie edits before/after the shooting), etc.
But we're not the only ones who are reading these interviews. Other people—casual fans, new fans, people who don't give a damn at all and are just clicking around on the internet—are going to look at these interviews, they're going to look at the things Oliver is saying, and they're going to have the same questions that we had. When could this have happened? And, more importantly, why didn't it? To keep it simple: everyone is going to start looking a little closer at the man behind the curtain, and the network does not want that.
Now, sure, it could be argued that, "hey, 911 isn't with FOX anymore, so maybe Oliver is allowed to say these things." But that's not really how it works. Sure, he might have a bit more leeway (as in, a microscopic, so-small-it-might-as-well-be-insignificant amount of leeway) to say whatever it is he wants, but this isn't the first time a major transfer/acquisition has occurred, and there are safeguards in place (such as NDA's—Non-Disclosure Agreements—which often do not expire for years post-acquisition, depending on the entity they're protecting) to prevent him from harming FOX's bottom line. So, that reasoning rings hollow. Especially because, now, it's not just FOX he's pulling into the fray either.
In the article that dropped today, he openly acknowledges this thing between Buck and Eddie in Season 7. And at this point, we're well into ABC's era. So the fact that he's saying, "I went to Tim and asked if there's something I can play with when Eddie says he's going on a date"—that's odd behavior from him. Not necessarily bad, just odd. And after years of toeing the line, the question that has to be asked now is why? And, more importantly, why now?
Does this mean that Buddie is going canon? Not necessarily (and, before anyone freaks out, I'm not saying it's not going canon either; I'm just saying this isn't an indication). But The Buddie Problem, at least, in the way Oliver is addressing it, is something the Higher Ups would want to keep quiet for as long as possible, for whatever reason. Maybe because they intend to go forward with it. Maybe because they don't. But the fact that he's cracking the shades open and letting light through is deeply fascinating.
But, despite all this, it's important, also, to realize that, even with demolishing the good PR line he's always walked so carefully, Oliver still isn't promising us anything. He's still treading carefully regarding how we, Buddie shippers, will interpret his words. He's not claiming Buddie canon is a go and it'd be remiss to think that's the implication here when it's not. He's not that stupid, and he's not that cruel. But all of it is very curious.
So that's why a lot of us are looking at each other, and then looking at Oliver, wondering what the hell he's doing. Because he knows better, and we know he knows better. We know he's very good at playing this delicate game but right now, he's making moves that are... intriguing... to say the least. And it's not just him, even though he's the main culprit. 9-1-1's move to ABC—and this entire press junket since 7x4—has been rife with sensitive information being released to the public, starting with Lou's untrained self revealing that it was supposed to be Eddie and Tommy that were going to get together, and circling back around to... literally every single word Oliver has uttered in the past three weeks.
So. It's odd! As you can see. So I'm sitting back, and I'm waiting and seeing because something is happening behind the scenes, and I don't know what it is (and I don't even think it's bad!) but it is still very much happening. So.
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randoimago · 2 months
Note
Hey hey could you please do headcanons on what Blitzo, Alastor and Rosie would do to help a dear friend in the middle of a rough breakup? Thank you!!
Fandom: Helluva Boss / Hazbin Hotel
Character(s): Alastor, Rosie, Blitzo
Warning: Cannibalism Mention
Note(s): I'm so glad I read this ask again because I almost missed Bitzo's name. I love the self-loathing imp (and the creepy cannibals) so I'm happy to write this!!
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Alastor
Seeing how you're handling the breakup, he's glad that he's aro. Would roll his eyes at you, but keeps a bright smile on his face as he pats you on the back and says to "Cheer up, there's plenty of fish in the sea."
He'd offer to feed your exe to some cannibals if you'd like, but probably wouldn't really go out of his way to do anything to them. He will drag you out of bed or wherever you're moping so you both can do something more productive.
Alastor might just put some music on and have you dance with him. It's something that always puts a smile on his face so maybe the activity will be fun for you too. If not then he'll direct you to Husk to handle the rest.
Rosie
She'd suggest just eating him, but you deserve a better meal than that. Don't worry your pretty, little head because she'll deal with him for hurting you.
Now, in the meantime, she'll sit you down and have you talk out your feelings. Crying and indulging in bad things gets so old and leads to regrets so how about you talk things out with her. She won't even charge you!
But seriously, she is here for you and is more than willing to listen and let you get your emotions out. Will be happy to feed you as well, but she doubts you'd be interested in what she has to offer.
Blitzo
Acts like he doesn't care because love is bullshit (or so he says) and that whoever your dumb ex is can die in a trash fire.
Seriously, if your breakup is that rough then he knows some places known for people making some very bad decisions that'll feel great in the moment. Of course he'll keep an eye on you to make sure that you don't go too wild and that no one tries to hurt you more.
But staying at his place and eating ice cream while yelling at stupid people in cooking shows is also optional. Luna can join in for some real family bonding.
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chronicbeans · 10 months
Note
okay hear me out on the yandere stardew valley…sebastian? or shane? 🫣
How about option 3?: BOTH!
Yandere Sebastian and Yandere Shane Headcanons (Separate):
TW: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Alcoholism, Suicidal Thoughts, Stalking, Noncon Photo Taking, Implied Violence/Murder
Sebastian:
He most likely took some time to fall for you. He's a natural loner, with only a few friends in town. That isn't to say he is rude. He just has a bit of a shell you have to break through to get his attention, and as shallow as it sounds, your appearance can really help. He believes a person's clothing style or aesthetic can say a lot about themselves. If you have a very bombastic and out there style, he believes you have a higher chance of getting along with him. You would seem to be more open about who you are, which is something he likes in people.
Once you catch his attention, you have it completely. He slowly feels himself falling in love with you. From the strange little quirks you have, shared interests with him, differing interests... You teach him so many things about the city, random fandoms you find online, aesthetics, whatever your interests are. The love he feels slowly turns to an obsession. So slowly, in fact, that he doesn't realize that it has become unhealthy. He thinks that it is still as normal and wholesome as it was when it began.
You will barely notice him following you around, taking photos, and leaving presents for you on your doorstep. Pelican Town is a relatively small area compared to the city. You simply think it makes sense that you would keep meeting with him. For the pictures, you just think he is trying to take pictures of the scenery, trying out a new hobbie. You don't ever see him leaving the gifts, though, and they make you a bit uncomfortable. You never told anybody about the interests contained in those gifts. Be it a cookbook, new album from your favorite band, or maybe a new sword for fighting, you know for sure you never let people know you were interested in that. You find those interests too embarrassing to share.
The next thing you know, your friends seem to avoid you. Harvey makes his check ups quicker. Pierre gives you large discounts on every item. Even Gus keeps each conversation short, to the point, and lets you know about this brand new discount for you and only you! You don't know what is going on, but at least Sebastian has stayed by your side through everything...
Shane:
You were a pest, at first. He just wanted to be left alone. At least, that's what he always told himself. He doesn't know when his views on you changed, but it did. Maybe it was because you stuck by him, even when he was actively trying to drive you away? Maybe it was how you treated him so kindly, despite his rude behavior towards you? Maybe he just always secretly wanted someone to keep pushing him to be better...
His obsession truly begins once you see him in Cindersnap Forest, lying by the cliff and ready to let himself fall. He doesn't remember much about what actually happened when he woke up in Harvey's clinic, but Harvey gave him the rundown. You were worried, you helped him get to the hospital, you stayed for a bit to make sure he was fine. The next day, when he went to tell you he was going to counseling, you gave him encouragement. You mentioned how concerned you were that night, told him how you were so happy he was still here, and even gave a few small tips you heard on how to distract yourself when you have the urge to relapse. You believed in him, even when he gave up on himself. You don't treat him like a burden, instead trying to help him become the best version of himself he can be. He loves you for that.
Although he is an atheist, that doesn't mean he can't worship you, in his own way. He may not believe in angels, but he feels like you are the closest the world will get to one. After that night, he makes sure to go out of his way to speak to you. Even while working at Joja Mart, he will begin to talk to you as he stocks the shelves, cleans the floors, and does whatever he needs. He constantly visits your farm with gifts, asking if he could come inside and hang out. He says things like "Talking to you helps me distract myself when I feel the urge to drink. You gave me that tip, right? I found it useful." or "I just feel a bit lonely today. I feel most comfortable talking to you, so I was wondering if I could visit your place? You've already seen mine." Really, though, he just couldn't get you out of his head.
He is... slightly aware that these feelings aren't normal. He goes to counseling, after all. He has mentioned you and how he feels towards you, only for his counselor to reply with concern at how strong those feeling were and how they seemed obsessive. He throws those concerns to the side, however, and goes about his days like it is normal. You are his anchor. His light. His will to live, really. He needs you to be happy with him in order for himself to be happy. He can't have anybody else take you away, or else he'd have nothing! He would never use these feelings against you, however. Far from it. He wants you to not feel pressured to be with him. That wouldn't be right. You never pressured him to get better, so why would he pressure you in any way? You encouraged him, gave him tips, and showed your support for him. As such, he'd do the same for you, hoping you would feel just as strongly about him as he does you.
Anybody who gets in the way, however, could rot for all he cares. It wouldn't hurt to get rid of a few of them, right?
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rysko · 3 months
Note
my request would be literally anything with luca changretta x shelby sister that pairing in this fandom is so my guilty pleasure love your writing so so much, whether you make it into a drabble, hcs or a mini fic i would be happy — gotta love that forbidden enemy lovin 😋
Too old for this - Luca Changretta x F!reader
summary: Keeping secrets, lying to your family, sneaking out...All to see a man, god, what are you? Seventeen again?
OR three times you snuck out to see Luca, and one time he snuck out to see you.
Warnings: Peaky-typical swearing, very minor violence, this is just romantic-comedy-themed fluff,
A/N: Special thanks (and a big fuck you) to @red-riding-wood, next time we race in writing we're making rules.
Aaaaaaanyways, So Sorry this took so long anon! This writing slump was horrible. I really hope you'll enjoy this silly thing!
tag list (yay i have one finally!): @red-riding-wood @peakyswritings
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This was stupid. This was so dumb.
Coat hung loosely around your shoulders, shoes in your hands as if to not make more noise than necessary, you snuck through the Small Heath Shelby house corridors. Almost cartoonishly so, when your frame passed one of the occupied rooms. If you had to guess, the last time you did that was years ago, when you were just a teenage girl with overprotective brothers, now you're an adult, rough-around-the-edges woman...with the same overprotective brothers.
Though, this time it's not a nice stableboy you're sneaking out to see. Now it seems like your brothers would have every right to threaten the man you're seeing with a blinding.
You slowly go down the old, wooden stairs, wincing at every crack and whine that echoes. The whole house is dark, the room illuminated only by the street lamps outside.
Almost...
Before you reach for the doorknob, you clumsily take the keys into your teeth to put your shoes on, which puts you in quite an embarrassing position when a table light behind you suddenly turns on.
"Aren't you a bit too old to be sneaking about Y/N?" Polly asked with a smugly raised eyebrow, nursing a glass of whiskey, legs crossed on the velvet red armchair. You spit out the keys.
"I'm not sneaking." You try to compose yourself as best as you can. "I'm going for a walk."
"Very conspicuous behaviour for a walk, love." The glass muffles her chuckle. Was she just...waiting here?
"I just don't want Tommy to get in my hair whenever I even look in the doors' direction." You whine. "I'll go crazy in this house soon." This seemed to soften Polly up just a bit, or maybe activate the part of her brain which insists on the 'fuck them' mentality when it comes to obeying Tommy's orders.
"Just don't get into trouble. God knows i need to tell you that." She dismissed you with a flick of the wrist, and you just nodded before rushing out the door, as if Polly could change her mind any second.
Street after street, the tension slowly eased off your shoulders as you were exiting the tight Shelby territory. It was a close call once in a while, someone almost recognizing you before you could cover your face more. A group of men whistling after you before you could disappear in a dark back alley. Slowly, you closed in on the place you agreed to meet a man by the name you even feared to say in your head, as maybe Tommy would sit there by sheer coincidence, resulting in you getting cut, or him, or both of you, how Shakespearean...
How has it gotten to the point where you are happily fucking the enemy? Devil knows, honestly.
In the back of your mind, you always had a nagging feeling Luca only started seeing you to spite Tommy. This wouldn't be a problem, of course, you regularly told yourself. You're spiting Tommy yourself!
No, that honestly didn't help. The truth is, whatever Changretta's intentions were, or, still are, you found him irresistibly captivating. Like a substance you just can't resist, one that soothes and pleasures, but at the same time comes with a fifty-page warning label. You can see this blowing up in your face from a mile away, in a million different ways. Yet, every visit, every phone call, hell, every sneakily delivered note shuts off any sense you have left in yourself.
And now you feel like losing it again, when just in front of the speakeasy Luca asked to meet you, a very familliar set of hands gently rest on your waist from behind.
"Took you long enough doll." A kiss on the cheek accompanies the low foreign drawl of Luca's voice, sending shivers down your neck and spine. Shit, if all of you will die soon, you might as well have some fun until then. It's not like Tommy's staying celibate in mourning.
"You're saying that to a doll that has to endure my brothers mythering about town. Sneaking out in the middle of the night isn't as easy for me as it is for you." With your arms crossed, you motion to one of the alleys you emerged from just moments ago. "There's all sorts of shady blokes out and about."
"M'sorry, i got impatient, that's all." You could feel his thumb gently rubbing against your waist "Anyone gave you trouble? You got the gun I got you?" Luca pulled back, looking you over, the slightest hint of concern visible in his dark eyes.
"Yes. To the second thing. I'll be fine." You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. "Are we going in?"
"Right this way cara." Luca's lips curled into a small smile. He linked your arms together and in a nearly over-the-top way led you down the stairs of the high-class Speakeasy.
You might as well have some fun, that's all this is after all.
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The loud whistle of the conductor woke you up from an on-and-off slumber, the train from Birmingham to London wasn't exactly the comfiest place to rest your head in. From outside the window, the ever-so-lively London train platform came into view.
To be honest, it surprised you when Luca invited you to spend the weekend in London, even more so when you managed to form quite an elaborate story to justify the trip to your family, or more accurately, Polly. Tommy seemed preoccupied with fighting the Italians, chasing the May lady around town, and making quite mediocre gin to even care what you were up to. Needless to say, officially you finally found a friend that you just have to visit. Polly seemed to pay it little mind, but the sly look in her eye, as she saw you off at the door, made you just a tad paranoid that she might have caught on.
Like always, this will bite you in the arse sooner or...sooner.
Up until now, every 'visit' you paid Luca hadn't lasted for more than half a day, only once reaching a full 24 hours when, to your horror, you managed to oversleep. That was a morning of sloppily put-on clothes and numerous muttered 'shits' and 'craps', of course, accompanied by a very amused Luca doing everything in his power to distract you.
What you were doing right now seemed like a step up from the usual routine. Two days aren't going to fly by with just sex, though, that wouldn't be so bad. But lately, you realized you just wanted to...ugh, spend time with him. However sappy this sounded. But that's not what this is. What even is 'this'? When you and Luca met, what happened was purely driven by want, maybe with more than a touch of curiosity of the 'forbidden fruit' in the form of the enemy. Sweet, with sour at the back of your tongue.
Lately, you realized, you only feel the sweet when you kiss Luca. And though you'd never admit it, you dread him not feeling the same.
You two have your moments. Pillow talks with topics never discussed with anyone before, coffee filled with banter worthy of an old married couple, and non-sexual touches that linger for just a bit longer than they should. It's addicting and confusing at the same time.
And that addiction and confusion just led you all the way to London.
Stretching out of your seat, you reach for your bag in the luggage compartment, only for a stranger to take it instead.
"There you go, Miss." The man, looking maybe a decade your senior smiled handing you the bag.
"Thank you, sir." You muster a polite smile, praying internally that the stranger isn't from the same place you are. "I could've done it myself though."
"It's really nothing, common kindness it is..." The longer he spoke, the more his voice trailed off. His eyes widened, studying your frame and most importantly, your face with a new approach. "You're-"
shit
"Thankyougoodbye." You rush and almost run out of the carriage, running into multiple people and throwing rushed half-assed apologies their way. You're stopped by a strong, painful grip on your arm, the man from before pushing you further down the platform, more secluded from people.
"I knew you were familiar." He grabbed the collar of your shirt and pushed you into a pillar roughly, knocking a bit of air out of your lungs. "One of those Shelby devils!" The man's gaze was furious, almost seeing red.
"Let me go." You ordered, trying your best not to attract attention to the both of you. "And we can both forget about this." You're trying your best to speak sternly and diplomatically, yet more than a hint of fear is hearable in your voice. He seems to notice.
"You ruined me!" The Brummie spat. "I'll cut your pretty face just like they cut me brothers." A rough, callous hand cupped your jaw to hold it in place, the other reaching into his jacket. You feel a mixture of panic and adrenaline make its way to your veins.
"Get the fuck off me!" All your strength goes towards your legs. You kicked him back a foot or two, which only seemed to infuriate him more. Before he could take even a step towards you, he's violently grabbed by... Wait, Luca?
"How 'bout you let the lady go, hm?" His grip on the brummies' collar turned red, almost lifting the man off the ground. That wasn't reflected at all in the way Luca was speaking however, for the first time he seemed...calm, condescending even. That only changed when the man didn't seem to take no for an answer. "That wasn't a fucking request." Luca's voice became a gravelly threat, which resulted in the attacker promptly looking between you and Luca as if weighing the risk and reward. Finally, he nodded his head frantically.
Luca didn't need to be told twice. He almost threw the man aside, letting him limp off into the distance. The Italian was almost immediately by your side, gently cupping your face, checking for any sign of hurt or damage. You feel his thumb caress a small spot next to your brow, despite you being almost sure you hadn't been hit anywhere near there. You take a look behind Luca to see the man at a larger distance.
"Wouldn't think you'd just let him go like that." You raise an eyebrow at Luca, not in a teasing way, it just feels oddly out of character for him to just let him go.
"Because I ain't gonna." He turns to a seemingly unaware civilian reading a newspaper, mumbling something that sounds like Italian, his head only slightly motioning towards the direction in which the Brummie fled. Ah, one of his men, cousin maybe. Just as he left, Luca stopped him for just a second more. "Alive." He let him go.
"Look at you, my knight in shining armour." You smile up at him while catching your breath and trying to calm down.
"Yeah yeah." He doesn't play into your teasing this time. "You alright?" He rubs your upper arm as if dusting off any remaining trace of the event before.
"Just a bit roughed up, had it worse after playfighting with Ada back in the day." You shrug. "I was prepared for you to bash his head in right here."
"That can wait a few days." His gaze followed a pair of men dragging the attacker off the station, his voice almost a promise.
"A few days? What happened to the vengeful, impatient Luca I know?"
"This Luca-" He holds out his arm for you to take. "-Is going to starve him a bit before giving him the mercy of a pipe through his skull."
"How romantic." You sigh in an exaggerated, lovesick voice. "Talk more like that and maybe I'll lift the 'no shop talk' policy." You wink at Luca as you link your arms together, his shoulder becoming the perfect pillow for your head. This time, Luca welcomes it happily.
"How gracious of you." His low chuckle meets yours as you head off to the London center. A fun weekend out is due, after all.
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Now, this was definitely an unusual location. 
At first, it seemed to you that Luca must have just confused locations when calling. Yet here you were, on the outskirts of a local forest, your only companions in the form of singing starlings and rustling trees.
All this seemed like a rope that was being pulled from only one side. You were the one to stress about being found out, evading family, hell, call sometimes. You felt like a brat, honestly. Technically, there was nothing Luca did that should have upset you, he couldn't have if there were no rules. Was that the thing though? Did you want there to be rules?
With every visit, you want to stay longer, talk more, and Luca seemed to entertain all of it. It confused you. What plan did he have with all this? Did Luca want you to catch feelings and lure you into a vulnerable state, resulting in killing you? Maybe he counted on you as a potential ally against Tommy, trying to manipulate you. Maybe he's just incredibly dense?
He can't want an actual relationship. Luca came here to kill your whole family, including you. The fact that he also likes to play with his prey is another thing, hell, he probably has a wife or girl back in New York. There has to be a wedding band under one of these tacky rings and signets.
"What the hell is he planning?" You kick a pebble down the dirt road in frustration. "A damn Picnic?" You finish off with a groan as you squat down.
Your answer came in the form of the sound of a Rolls Royce engine heading closer and closer toward you, the black car kicking up a hefty amount of dust and rocks. As it slows down next to you and ultimately comes to a halt, you see the familiar face of Luca's right-hand man.
"Get in." Matteo nodded in the direction of the backseat, though you didn't take it into consideration, and immediately headed for the shotgun seat.
"What is all this?" You look around the car as it backs up and starts speeding off in the same direction it came from.
"Luca asked me to get you to him safely," Matteo explained, not taking his eyes off the road. "He didn't want any uhh, repeat from last time."
"How sweet." You answer sarcastically. Ah, of course, he couldn't bother.
"He was definitely sweet when he put the bozo out of his misery." He laughed, looking to the side, as if seeking approval for his joke, but didn't get any. Matteo's laughter dies into an awkward cough.
"How long's the ride?" You try to position yourself as comfortably as possible in the stiff leather seats of the car.
"About an hour." He answers, and you visibly deflate in your seat, deciding to spend the time looking at the sights outside, fields, and occasional houses passing by.
A long, awkward silence passes between the two of you. It seemed to bother the man to your right, who tapped his index finger against the steering wheel while stealing the occasional glance. He looked like he was debating saying something.
"So..." He begins, almost like a father starting a conversation with a child he doesn't quite get. "Did you finish Ulysses yet?"
"Did..." You do a double take, studying Matteo for a long second. "...Did Luca give you conversation starters?"
"What if I made them up?" He blurts out.
"We've spoken twice, Matteo." You raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed. "I never told you what I read."
"Maybe I just guessed what girls like nowadays." He smirked at you, feeling triumphant.
"I'm sorry, but you're the least qualified person to talk about girls." You say with a chuckle.
"Touche." He smiled, then looked back at the road, letting the silence sit only for a few seconds. "But you're right, we've only spoken twice."
"So?" You raised a brow.
"Sooo." Matteo draws out. "We have about an hour to catch up."
You're genuinely confused as to why Matteo was being so personal all of a sudden. Usually, as in, in the last few weeks or so, you've had two separate, short conversations with the man. Once, when you accidentally came into his room instead of Luca's during one of your 'visits'. The other time, when both of you had quite a boring and awkward conversation about English meals in a lift. "On what grounds should we 'catch up'?"
"On the grounds that you're fucking my cousin Miss Shelby." The way Matteo said that was surprisingly casual. "And family is important to me."
"It's not like I'm married to him." You reply faster than you'd want to.
"He damn well acts like you are." He chuckles, and you feel yourself stiffen, looking at the Italian like he just told you the earth is flat. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"What do you mean by 'acts like I am'?" The question leaves your lips in an uncertain tone, almost shy.
"Never seen him so distracted by someone he's known for such a short time." He says with a shrug "Foolish if you ask me, but who am I to judge, at least he's happy."
He's happy??
"Uh, yeah." He throws you a pitiful smile, as if he could see how perplexed this information made you. "At least from what I can see."
Oh, of course, you said that out loud.
You quieted down, gaze resting on your lap. Now this was new information you had no idea how to process. You bit your lower lip in thought, unsure if the emotions you're feeling right now are uncertainty or... giddy, immature happiness.
You sit like that for a good few minutes before a small, sly smile graces your lips.
"Cousin, huh?" You ask, looking out the window, your good humour slowly creeping back in.
"I'm not telling you his secrets," Matteo says almost immediately as if he somehow knew that you were going to ask that.
"And I'm not asking you." You clarify. "But you probably have some nice stories."
"About what?"
"You knooooow..." You draw out, cocking your head to the side. "What was he like, back in the day?"
"Same as now, I guess. Only longer ago." It seemed like that was the end of your prying on Luca, but after a longer moment, Matteo mused more to himself than anyone else in the car. "More chipper in New York though..."
"Chipper? I'd like to see that."
"Oh yeah, and stupid."
"Now we're talking, tell me more." You lean forward in your seat, elbows resting on your thighs.
"No, I already told too much," Matteo says like he's telling his friends he's had enough drinks for the night. "He's going to skin me alive if he finds out I told you about this."
"Oh come oooooon. I won't tell." You shuffle your feet excitedly. Matteo looked forward, focusing on the road ahead, but after a moment of looking between the steering wheel and you, he let out a defeated sigh.
"...Back in New York, when we were just goons for Spinietta, Luca came up with a new con to scam people with, a really fucking stupid one..."
.
.
.
"And then, THEN it turned out the other guy was from London, and when he heard Luca speaking in a shitty Birmingham accent he-" He paused, but only to wheeze in laughter. "He beat the fucking shit out of him." Matteo finishes the story, on the verge of tears.
"No!" You gasped, though not hiding your laughter as well, leaning forward in your seat.
"Yes!" Matteo wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye, still trying to calm down his laughter. "Never seen Luca on his ass faster in my life, ti giuro. "
"Oh god. And I'm supposed to NOT tease him about it?" You say in amused disbelief. "When he's all 'Look at me, I'm mister smug and aloof, I've never gotten beaten up like a bitch before'." You put on your best impression of the Italian, even going to the lengths of putting a match between your lips and exaggerating your words with excessive hand gestures.
"Hey, we're all hiding behind something principessa." Despite Matteo defending his cousin, he still couldn't help but laugh along with you. After a moment, both of you calmed down, this time falling into a pleasant, comfortable silence before you spoke up again.
"What about you?" You turned to Matteo again.
"What do you mean?"
"You said you want to catch up." You lean against the leather seat, bringing your knees to your chin. "We've got an hour, you ever played two truths and a lie?"
It was a nice ride.
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Everyone and their mother thinks the Small Heath home is haunted. Random objects flying off the wall at night, specific items appearing in places they weren't before, the occasional crooked painting.
Footsteps are definitely new.
The boys and Polly are dealing with business outside of town for once, while Ada just went out and should be here any minute. But that definitely isn't Ada.
Slow, almost wary footsteps cause the floorboards to creak on the ground floor. You're sitting next to the stairs, knees tucked to your chest and spare pistol in your hand.
Another step.
You press your ear to the floor, trying your hardest to pinpoint how many people were inside just by footsteps... Just one?
They appear to be coming closer, and you internally brace for confrontation with whoever broke into your home. As the intruder passes the corner you were hiding in, you stick out the gun and press it to the side of their head, making them immediately freeze in place.
Wait-
"Luca????" You blurt out in shock, your voice becoming at least a few octaves higher.
"Hey, you actually kept it," Luca says, sizing up the gun he gave you that's now pressed to his head. "Though I'd rather not die by it sweetheart, no offense."
"FUCKING hell Luca! You scared me half to death!” Your arms drop next to your hips. putting the gun on a table nearby.
“Relax, who would it be if not me?” Luca moves towards you, probably to say his hellos in the form of peppered kisses.
"Who would it be? What do you MEAN who would it be?!" You rub your eyes, not sure if out of frustration or as a way of trying to wake yourself up. “Police? IRA? My own bloody brothers?!” Somehow, this is exactly what you wanted. Luca being the one that sneaks through Small Heath and avoids the blinders, instead of it being always you. Though now, instead of it being a late-night fantasy of the charming man sneaking into your bed despite the dangers of doing so, it's a real-life nightmare of this idiot trying to get himself killed.
“Yeah well, it’s not them.” He shrugs, glancing around the house. “I’d like to see anyone try to stab you in the back in this house. I figure before I’ll get to them you’ll just kill them yourself.” 
“Yes, I am quite amazing.” You muse to yourself before snapping back into reality. “Don’t think you can butter me up and I’ll drop it, what are you doing here?!"
“I’m seeing my doll.” 
“Need I remind you you’re inside my idiot brothers’ territory?”
"Relax, we'll manage."
You two did not manage.
Who knew Luca Changretta had a talent for knocking down hanged pictures and stepping on the creakiest parts of the wooden floor.
“Shush for once in your life.” You hissed at Luca as you led him through the tight corridor, internally begging whatever made-up deity may be watching over you to please not let Arthur or Polly magically appear out of the corner.
“Please, it’s not like-” You can practically hear Luca roll his eyes, and despite you usually letting him release whatever condescending thoughts he had on the daily, you think you just heard a door open in the distance. You practically drag him the remaining meter to your room's door and push him inside, shutting it way too loudly.
As it turns out, the deity listened to you, but only to half of your half-assed prayer.
“Ada! Heyy!” You try to stay nonchalant as you lean against the door.
“...Hey?” Ada's pace slows down next to you, “What’s got you so pent up?”
“Pent up? Pshh.” You're really not good at this. “Well, I guess I’m just tired, I better get to bed.” Your thumb points back towards the door of your bedroom.
Ada stays put, looking at you puzzled and suspicious.
“Are you going?" She asks.
“Yes.” You blurt out. ”What about you?”
“Y/N, cut the crap. I heard something.” She looks at you for answers, but only when she looks at the door again it's almost as if a light turns on in her head. “Are you…Sneaking someone in?” She reached for the doorknob only to be stopped by you slapping it away.
“Ada no!” You shield the door with your whole body.
“Ow! Hey, come on, I’m not judging. God knows you deserve some fun once in a while.” She rubs her hand. “So who is he?” Your sister looks between you and the door excitedly, her voice now hushed, like all these years ago when the two of you spent hours under the covers giggling about the stupidest of things.
“Uhh, just-” You stammered, struggling to find the right words. or any words for that matter. “You don’t know him.”
“I trust he’s not afraid of Tommy since he followed you here.” She threw a wink your way. “Reminds me of Freddie and I back in the day.” A fond smile graces her face as she looks to the side.
“Oh he’s not, that’s for sure.” You laugh nervously, internally waiting for the sweet release of death. Ada seemed to notice.
“All right, I’ll get out of your hair.” She laughs at her sister, squeezing your cheek as she walks past you. “Don’t get her knocked up Romeo, then maybe I won't have to tell Tommy!” She calls, walking off down the corridor. Only after Ada completely vanished from your periphery you opened the bedroom door just a few inches and slid in. The door locked, checked three times, and you finally released a big sigh, hands sliding off the door to rest next to your hips.
You turn around to see a very out-of-place Luca. Almost everything about him clashed with your small childhood room, the humble interior looking somehow even cheaper next to him. After the company took off, the family never bothered to fancy up the place, instead, everyone went their separate ways into apartments and stylish homes. Yet somehow for you, no king-sized plush bed will ever replace the old, creaking twin you have right here in Small Heath, always ready for you with open arms.
Luca took his sweet time taking in the place. Picking up and then putting down every insignificant object, from small toys you never bothered to throw out or sell, to numerous books lying around the room. He spends the most time looking at an old, framed picture sitting atop your windowsill. Luca's thumb brushes off a heavy layer of dust from 10-year-old Y/N in her year 5 uniform, while the actual Y/N takes her place beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Adorable." Luca nudges you, a sly smile on his lips as he puts his other arm around your shoulders.
"Oh hush, I'm sure I can find a picture of little Luca if I sneak into your home." You stab a finger into his arm playfully, smiling fondly at the picture.
"Wishful thinking, doll. Wishful thinking..." Luca sets down the frame and focuses his attention on you. A kiss on your temple leads to his lips softly trailing down to your nose and meeting your lips. Now the stress of the whole damn ordeal seemed to start slipping away, and the sweet taste is there once again.
The sound of a door crashing on the far end of the hallway takes both of you out of your trance.
“So, that…was Ada.” You turn your head to try and hear any sounds of your sister leaving her room, but Luca doesn't seem to pay it any mind.
“She seems nice.” He hummed against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone, biting down gently.
“What are you doing Romeo?” You turn your head slightly to squint your eyes at him, a distrusting smile gracing your lips.
“Breaking my promise to your sister.” His sly drawl is muffled against your skin as both of you step by step head towards the bed.
“Did you want to come here only to sleep with me under Tommy’s nose?” You sit down on the bed, your brows furrowing.
“I always come firstly to you and because of you,” Luca emphasizes every word as he slowly gets on his knees, never taking his eyes off you. “But yeah, being here does come with its satisfaction. If only they’d see you now, cara.” His hands push up your dress, finding their way to your thighs, fingers getting busy with the garters holding up your stockings.
“Yeah, maybe cut it with the Italian. My sister could be listening in.” Luca only seems to respond in a musing hum. “You never know.” 
“Should I put on my best Birmingham accent?” He looks up at you, his signature smartass grin more endearing than annoying.
“Not now. You’ll ruin the mood.” You murmur just mere inches from his lips, laying back into the old, creaky bed, Luca following put. “But definitely save it for later, I need to hear that."
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maple-the-awesome · 4 months
Text
He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2
PART 2
Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader
Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️
Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist
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You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:
“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”
Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.
Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.
Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.
Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.
Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.
It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  
It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.
Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.
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Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 
It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.
Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 
Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 
Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…
Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 
Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.
As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.
A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?
Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.
At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).
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Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.
When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 
Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.
You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.
Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?
You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…
Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.
He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?
If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.
Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.
Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.
You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.
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You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.
You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…
Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.
First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.
Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.
Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.
There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.
Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.
One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…
Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...
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sleepingdeath-light · 1 month
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relationship hcs ; alastor
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requested by ; anonymous (08/03/24)
fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; alastor
outline ; “Excuse me, I don't know if requests are still closed but would it be okay to ask relationship headcannos about Alastor??”
warning(s) ; some references to canon-typical levels of violence from alastor, but mostly fluff!
there are an innumerable amount of reasons as to why it’s damn near impossible to get close enough to alastor to form a romantic relationship with him, but even after you have somehow managed to gain his trust and admiration to the point that he wants to court you things don’t get any more straightforward — arguably they only get more complicated the longer you’re an item
he’s nothing short of a gentleman with you and insists on taking things slow and going about things the ‘traditional’ way (or as close to traditional as one can get in hell) — and that can mean anything from holding doors open for you (either himself or through his shadows) or lending you his coat when you seem cold, to aggressively shutting down/intimidating the afterlife out of anyone who approaches you with intentions he deems inappropriate or delivering you your enemy’s severed head in amongst a gift basket of flowers and baked goods (courtesy of rosie as he’s not much of a baker himself)
he uses a mixture of french and english pet names for you depending on his mood — think along the lines of such terms of endearment as ‘my dear’ or ‘ma chèrie / mon chèri’ — and for his own part he’d rather you just address him by name unless you’re in private and he’s in a very good mood (well… a good enough mood to actually respond to being called something like ‘dearest’ or ‘honey’ instead of outright ignoring you until you actually say his name)
he frequently remarks about how much his mother would love you, how happy she’d be to see him settle down after all of this time, and how he wishes you could meet her — those moments are when you get to see a more human side of alastor, his smile softening to something more nostalgic and genuine as he speaks about one of the few people he truly cared for during his life
he’s not the biggest fan of physical affection in general and will only really partake in it on his terms, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t show his love for you through other means — in fact, as far as he’s concerned, his affection for you is shown as clear as day despite his own dislike for being touched
gift giving — though his gifts aren’t always the most traditional, alastor does tend to go out of his way and get you things whenever he’s out and about. sometimes that means picking something up from the tailor that he knows you’ll just love, or bringing you a box of baked goods from rosie’s emporium whenever he goes to visit her, and other times that means fetching you ‘trophies’ from the people he’s dealt with on your behalf (sometimes they’re extremely fresh and bloody, other times he actually makes an effort to clean and dry them — it’s 50/50 regarding how much cleanup you’re gonna need to do), but no matter what he’s always happy (proud, even) when he presents you with your gift — and even prouder if he comes back to your place of residence later on and sees that you’ve put anything on display (well, the stuff that can be displayed anyway…)
quality time — you’re the person whose company he actively seeks out the most, even if that just means sharing a space as you each go about whatever task you’re doing at the time. of course there are the dates he takes you on (he is a gentleman, after all, and he makes an effort to woo and wow you whenever he has the chance), but the majority of your quality time is spent in the hotel or his recording studio: going about your chores together, hanging out in the common area and overseeing the group activities charlie has planned, sitting side by side and reading or eating in silence, having your meals together, talking about whatever comes to mind when the mood allows it, or just sitting with him in his studio in silence as he broadcasts his show for all of hell to hear
words of affirmation — he’s not the most talkative person, especially not when compared to someone like angel dust or charlie, and is generally more of a listener/observer in most of his daily interactions, but with you he does make an effort to keep up conversation and ensure that you know just how much he appreciates your company. of course he always makes sure to compliment your newest hairstyle or outfit change, especially if you’re dressing up to accompany him to a meeting or another such formal event, but his affirmations go beyond just shallow praise and you get to see much more of that when you’re alone or in the brief moments where nobody is looking your way when you’re with others. for example, he’s always quick to reassure you of how deeply he admires and cares for you (as much as he’s capable of doing either, anyway) by insisting that it takes a great deal to catch his eye and that by merit of being the radio demon’s lover you must be spectacular, no matter what your insecurities may say.
acts of service — again, regardless of his more disturbing proclivaties, alastor is a gentleman and will go out of his way to ensure you’re well taken care of and that any and all unnecessary stressors and discomforts are swiftly and painlessly (for you) removed from your life. sometimes this can mean him fetching you (shockingly well made given his usual diet) breakfast in bed when it’s clear you didn’t sleep well the night before or having his shadow servants do your bidding for the day so you don’t have to worry about overworking yourself in his absence, but it can also translate to actions that are much more aligned with his terrifying reputation — for example, torturing anyone that opposes you (like an overbearing boss or annoying neighbour) into silence and compliance with his whims
alastor is also a generally very protective and territorial partner who isn’t above getting petty and passive aggressive towards anyone who tries to interfere in your relationship — and then if they don’t get the hint and back off immediately (or they attempted to cause you harm) he’ll start getting outright aggressive and make sure that they understand just how much they fucked up by trying to take what belongs to him
related to the above point, but alastor also has a nasty possessive streak to him and will heavily monitor all of your external relationships (both just by sticking by your side whenever he’s able, and also by ensuring you always have one of his shadows by your side when you’re apart) — he’s more lenient with your friendships if you happen to be with someone he explicitly trusts (like rosie or nifty) or someone that he knows wouldn’t dream of interfering in your relationship (like charlie who is too nice for her own good sometimes) but otherwise you can expect him to be extremely judgemental and passive aggressive with the people in your life that you’re close to (especially if they happen to be someone who distrusted him immediately… like vaggie)
this side of him can be managed with a lot of patience and compromise from you, but it’s never going to go away completely so you’re going to have to get used to that side of him early on
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thisismeracing · 5 months
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MICK DATING A K-POP IDOL | MS47
― Warnings: mentions of family members; not proofread. ― A/n: Just a quick reminder that there are many shades, experiences, and backgrounds when it comes to Asian people and their culture, what I am writing does not resume everything, but rather brings a piece of it to the table. <;3 ― Based on this requested here
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✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
Everyone always took Mick as the country music type of guy, so when he started liking things about K-pop and added a few music from the genre to his official F1 playlist fans started to suspect something was up;
And as it happens, it was because a few weeks later you were walking on the paddock and getting to the Mercedes garage. Getting to Mick;
Your relationship was quick to become public, and Mick would attend concerts whenever he could;
It took him some time to get used to how famous you were. And how you would be giving him gits regularly, but everything you gave was always so thoughtful, especially when he got a song for his birthday - a whole song about how much he was your sunshine boy;
He loved watching your choreographies and would totally ask you to show them to him whenever you're home together.
You guys would share a bunch of stuff about your cultures. Constantly traveling between Asia and Europe between the holidays;
Mick was also the first boyfriend your fandom actively shipped. He would be all flush and happy about it, especially when he attended concerts, and some fans asked him for pics too;
He would put your songs to play in the garage, no questions asked;
Not only would Mick love watching you dance, but he would also try to learn some moves himself;
Would love it whenever you sang at home. Like truly love it;
The proudest boyfriend;
Would wear your merch around like one wears a wedding ring and proudly shows the world;
Mick would get into other K-pop groups too, and you would love to see him immerse in the culture;
Truly the sweetest and most comprehensive boyfriend you could've asked for.
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! I don't know much about K-pop, so if anything is inaccurate or something please just let me know!🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask!
Side note: Thank you for the request, nonny! It's been a beat since I last heard K-pop music, and I did while writing this piece - it was so much fun!! <3
taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @leclercsluv @v1naco @callsign-scully @heelariously @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @peachiicherries @therealcap @mehrmonga @cixrosie @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @skepvids @scopeiguess @nzygftoji @princewis @bbreezybitch @graciewrote
✷ check here my main masterlist | patreon guide my taglist  if you wanna be tagged on my pieces
©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.
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le-trash-prince · 3 months
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Kenta
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Okay. It is once again time for me to talk about my number one little man. I was interested in Kenta from the very beginning, and at some point I realized that I was not going to be normal about him, but I really did not anticipate how much he would come to mean to me. I hope y'all have enjoyed witnessing my descent into feral blorbo state. It is not over for me in the slightest.
I want to say that Garfield really acted the shit out of this role, and the writers knew what they were doing when they cast him. His arc was so important to the overall plot, with his growth being pivotal to Tony's downfall, and yet he had a relatively small amount of dialogue to work with (although certainly not the smallest amount of the cast).
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A lot of his scenes involve him standing in Tony's office, taking instructions, or even just simply observing. A lot of his lines are based around business deals and errands—rather than furthering his emotional development. He doesn't give big speeches, he doesn't talk about his feelings or his dreams, it's always just "I'm doing xyz for Tony, and I will never betray him."
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Some of his most dialogue heavy scenes are in one stairwell with Pete and in another with Tony, which I think are extremely pivotal moments, both of which reveal a fear of abandonment.
But it's honestly when he's quiet that he says the most.
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And I love that, I'm obsessed with it. I love that the whole fandom could insantly tell that he and Pete had something going on, just from the way they looked at each other. I love that the storytelling in his arc was so highly visual.
In the beginning, Kenta appears to be nothing more than Tony's lackey: quiet, intimidating, and actively complicit with what is going on.
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But as we see him more and more, it becomes exceedingly apparent that he cares, so much. I know I am biased in saying this, but I do also pay close attention to what other people are saying about Kenta, and I know almost everyone has been waiting the entire series to see him stand up to Tony. The amount of acting that Garfield did with his eyes, while remaining such a stoic character, was insane.
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Despite him repeatedly declaring his loyalty to Tony, despite the fact that he does not reveal any actions against Tony until episode 12, we feel so much of his inner conflict.
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I think for me, personally, the aspect of Kenta's character that I relate to the most is his inability to speak up when he wants to. I've struggled with selective mutism my entire life, and there have been countless, countless scenarios where I've had so many things to say and no ability to say them. The more dire the situation, the more my words fail me. I have to spend so much of my energy constantly planning for potential conflict scenarios just so I can have the time I need to figure out which words to use. Because it can sometimes take months for me to figure out certain phrases. And because it is so painful to stay silent when you want to tell someone to stop. To stop fighting, to stop hurting each other, to stop hurting me.
So I was beyond moved and proud to watch Kenta finally be able to protect his brothers and quietly say the one thing he has wanted to say all along.
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Don't hurt anyone anymore.
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Don't hurt anyone anymore.
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Don't hurt anyone anymore.
I will take some of the words that P'Chod gave to Garfield before they went into production. "It’s just you want to live in a peaceful house and be happy together.” All we want is peace.
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I wish that Kenta had not been forced to kill Tony because I don't think he has ever wanted to hurt anyone. But I'm sure as hell not sorry that he did it. There will always be people who are unwilling to stop.
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And I recognize that Kenta tried a peaceful method first. He gave X-Hunter what they needed to put Tony in jail, and Tony refused to give up. He was never going to be the kind of person who would simply surrender. To him, these people's lives are property that he is entitled to.
Here is an auto translation of something Garfield said about Kenta at the final episode screening.
"I already knew that Kenta would be similar to me, in that I'm someone who doesn't dare to express my feelings to the people around me, saying very little. So when I got the role, I felt… that it teaches us that as long as we dare to be ourselves and do things that make us happy, that's enough."
We may never know what happened to Kenta after Tony died, but I hope he is able to find his peace. I hope he is able to engage with restorative justice, and I hope he is able to learn what family really should be.
And I hope that someone, anyone, will give him a goddamned hug.
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the first shot / the last shot
Thank you, Kenta, from the bottom of my heart, for showing us yours.
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bluishfrog · 6 days
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HAPPY 1-YEAR OF DRAWING ANNIVERSARY TO ME!
(Warning: slightly longer post incoming cause sometimes I gotta be a sentimental bitch ok? So let's go on a little trip down memory lane.)
This day, a year ago, I made my very first fanart. It was dnf (if that surprises you, then welcome to being on my blog for the very first time). I drew a little frog face too so I could use it as a watermark (fun fact: I still use that very same first one).
I immediately put my drawing up on twt because I told myself that I wasn't gonna be afraid of having people see that I was at the very beginning of this journey and had no clue what I was doing. That instead of being bad at art, I was gonna be awesome at being a beginner who doesn't know shit.
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I started with little doodles and silly comics and then I laughed way too long when the first drawing of mine that gained some attention was a dnf butt joke. At the time I was trying to balance shipping and non-shipping art so I didn't even draw dnf that much but in hindsight it's probably the only possible way this could have gone.
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At the very end of August I woke up to @honelle56 caps-locking at me in my messages - I was very confused and tired (I am no morning person and I will never be, fuck off with your mornings) because Dranart liked my drawing of singing Dream. Dranart was my 17th follower on twt which is a useless yet extremely funny fact about my time on that hellsite.
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I also drew human!patches because a) patches was and will always be my favorite dteam member and b) it was a really cute trend and while I do love drawing dream, george and sapnap, I was also quite happy to try drawing anything but a white man for once. And I really liked how the drawing turned out.
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Much, much later, I tried to draw my first slightly more realistic looking drawing. I was extremely confused on how to draw anything like this. Especially their hair gave me tons of trouble but given my experience, I think it's not a bad attempt.
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When hijacked smp started I obviously wanted to participate, and I drew c!blu who doesn't associate with any side in particular but instead serves soup to everyone who visits her tavern 'The Soup House'. She also wants to be paid in stories from all around the map.
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One of the events I was most excited about was dnf week. I even collaborated with two talented writers and I drew the corresponding art for two fics.
(Fun or not so fun fact: when twt had like three hundred collaborative aneurysms about the situation at that moment, that was when I created this tumblr account. I didn't use it super actively (I guess I needed another situation to fully make the switch) but I at least started the account that now developed quite a bit since then.)
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I didn't really draw at all through January and February and I actually kinda thought I would move on from that hobby and fandom (not because of negative feelings, just because I didn't really have the urge to create anything within this fandom) and then situations happened and now I am here; and for some reason that is beyond any logic and my understanding I am now even more insane about dteam.
Wild to me but we are rolling with it now, I guess.
Since I got here, I drew more than ever (I actually think I might have made more drawings in the month since I got here than I made the whole rest of the year). There's just such an active and funny community here that cares about fan works for the sake of creating and not just because a CC might see it.
Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me add more than 10 images in one post (maybe fortunately for everyone who has this monstrosity of a post on their dash). So if you want to see all the progress I made since I got here, you can look at everything in my art tag. For now, I will close this post with one of the art works from the past month that I like the most:
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Can't wait to see what the next year might bring :)
Love, blu
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gffa · 5 months
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I have noticed that there is a weird contradiction in fandom in which swaths of it do not like the Jedi Order(tm) but like a lot of individual Jedi who have dedicated their lives to it (Obi-Wan being the biggest example for me personally but also Luke, Plo Koon, Ahsoka, whoever) so that means that the genuine love, pride, and importance that the Jedi has for them is completely erased or even devalued in a lot of fanon. No offense to other people's personal head canons but as far as I'm concerned, Obi-Wan would neva denounce or go against the Jedi Order for anyone or anything short of the whole Council falling to the dark side in some monstrous Palpatine scheme, he simply Would Not Do That.
At a certain point, there forms a pretty consistent pattern of how so many of these Jedi that we love individually are pillars of their community, they're often well respected, placed in positions of authority in both the structure of the Jedi Order and in the narrative itself (people going to them for advice and the tone of the scene is that they're giving heartfelt advice) or even that they're on the Council itself. At a certain point, there forms a pretty consistent pattern of how these characters are shown to be upholding Jedi values and living their life dedicated to being a Jedi of the Jedi Order, that they're not dissatisfied with it, but instead are active participants in it and leaders of their people. Obi-Wan Kenobi and Plo Koon and Kit Fisto and Depa Billaba are probably the four biggest examples of Jedi who are beloved--and all four of them are on the High Council and shown to be leaders of their people, who shape Jedi reactions, who are shown to love their people. Each of them has had moments of expressing that mistakes happen, that they're not perfect, they think other things should be done, but that at the end of the day, they're Jedi and they want to be Jedi of the Jedi Order. Even Luke, until he's in his depressive funk (that is said, via word of god, to have been Luke projecting personal failure into religion's failure) has always been shown to want to be a Jedi, to uphold Jedi values and ways. These are characters who genuinely find value in dedicating their lives to the Force and to their path as a Jedi and it's fine to not like the Jedi, I can't and won't stop people who disagree with me about it (I will make my case why I think racism and bias plays into a lot of it, but even then I'm making my case in my own lane, if you block me and never sneak onto my blog to read my posts, you'll never see me), I can't and won't stop other people from writing what they want about fictional characters in fanfic or whatever, but also there does come a point where it's a very consistent pattern that these Jedi we like are ones who just Would Not Say That. Obi-Wan is shown as, in nearly every piece of media he's ever been in, that he loves and supports the Jedi Order. Even when he said he would leave the Jedi Order, it wasn't because he wanted to walk away from them, but because he might personally have another path. You cannot divorce that moment from the massive scope of his larger story where he teaches both Anakin and Luke about Jedi values and tries to guide them on their Jedi path. Characters should have their own personalities, they sometimes say/do things that we disagree with and we can still like them, even if we disagree with what they're saying! Though, I will give fandom this: As a serial "I have read/mentally played out soooooo many scenarios where He Would Not Say That except He Is Going To Say That Because It Makes My Id Happy" enjoyer, I will never judge anyone for playing to their id. That's what one of the major points of fandom is even for--we're here to scratch that itch of "oooh brain go BRRRRRR when I make them say this". We have to let these people (by which I mean, you have to let me 😂) have their space for this, but also these people (by which I again mean me) have to recognize that sometimes we're playing to our ids and that's fine. (But also sometimes maybe be willing to think outside our id to see what biases we're playing into, even while recognizing fiction is not 1:1 to reality, like it's all a balancing game and each person is unique to what they feel they should do.)
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dragon-chica · 1 year
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Wednesday Addams General NSF W Headcanons
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Fandom: Wednesday
Warnings: Rough sex and kinks, fully consensual harm, idealization of death, it's Wednesday.
Bloodplay is one of her favorite activities. She loves seeing your skin covered in beautiful crimson and licking it off of you, the way your breath heaves as she becoming enamored with a simple cut and her blown pupils staring up at you while her tongue swipes across it.
"I've always enjoyed the phrase 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but chains and whips excite me.' don't you agree?" she says eyeing you up, a hint for later perhaps.
Choking. To the point of where she's about to/may pass out. She imagines you're really ending her, in the throws of bliss and dying by the hands of her true love.
Flogging or whips, she doesn't care for spanking but loves the marks or sometimes welts left behind.
Gods does she love to torment you, but she takes as well as she gives. From drawing everything out as long as possible to literally tormenting you.
She's not one for marking where others can see, and isn't happy when you happen to leave visible marks on her, but she's incredibly possessive and believes it should already be clear that she doesn't share.
You two switch regularly. Even if you usually are into bottoming, there's something about the way she's so prideful and stubborn that goads you into giving her a taste of her own medicine, and reveling in how she eventually crumbles for you.
She is a brat. You're not entirely sure if she's trying to piss you off into taking it out on her, or if she really thinks herself to be so high and mighty trying to talk down to you while she's pinned and handcuffed and your mercy but you remind her soon enough.
Overstimulation. Pain and pleasure, pleasure until it becomes pain is her favorite part. Bringing you the relief of a hard won orgasm then not letting up until you're begging her, that's it's too much. That it hurts. But you were just pleading for her not to stop? To give you more? She's only doing as you asked.
When you do the same to her it's so satisfying to watch her crack. It takes time and patience to make her fall apart but you've learned her weaknesses as well as she knows yours.
Very sarcastic and sadistic, talking down to you.
She's not into voyeur or other's seeing or knowing what you do together. You're hers. To know and have. You're dating an Addams, and that means devotion.
Her hobby of experimenting with sex largely includes her love of torture methods. Slightly adjusted for your enjoyment, but she's willing to try the real thing if you'll do it to her. She can take it. She gives you a challenging stare if you falter.
Honestly you probably find some of the things she's into pretty concerning. You trust her to not truly harm you, which shows a lot, but she wants you to do some hardcore things to her that are hardly sexual and just seem like she has a pain kink that's a little too far.
Waxplay. Specifically with vampire tear candles, but red will also do. She likes it to be candlelit anyway so it's convenient as well.
Wednesday can be sort of clinical in her observations at times. She likes to know exactly what makes you tick and will makes notes from time to time. You're scared to know what's actually in that book.
Bondage. Probably the biggest thing you do is tying each other up and having your way. From intricate shibari to antique manacles that hang in her room presumably for 'decoration'.
If you have a dick she would be ruthless with cock and ball torture. If you don't have a pain kink, you likely would soon without ever having expected it.
She loves the intimacy of knowing exactly what makes her partner tick and plans to learn everything about you.
I lied. I said I was going to work on other characters for a bit. Here's this. I'm sure I could go on, but that's all for now.
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