Tumgik
#anyway back to the fact that I missed some
roosterforme · 12 hours
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet
Length: 3000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
Tumblr media
Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.
He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 
It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?
Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"
You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."
Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"
Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."
This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.
...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...
...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...
...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...
...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...
After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.
On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 
You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.
"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 
This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."
You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.
Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."
"No way!" Henry promised.
"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."
You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 
"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 
When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."
You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.
"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"
"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"
"Does this mean his deployment is over?"
"Why does he have flowers?"
He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."
His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."
He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"
"I think they're in love!"
"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"
Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."
"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.
"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."
You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"
"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.
"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 
"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."
You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.
"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.
You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.
When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.
"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.
"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"
He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"
You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.
"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.
"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"
He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."
Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.
Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."
"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."
You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."
"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."
You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"
"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."
He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.
Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley
When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."
You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."
With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.
----------------------------
He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@chassy21
@solacestyles
@daisyhollyxox
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@shanimallina87
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@xoxabs88xox
@thedroneranger
@cherrycola27
@fanboyswhore9
@xomrsalliej4787xo
@desert-fern
@horseslovers2016
@mattyskies
@hookslove1592
@blahehblah
@sadpetalsstuff
@local-spidey
@schoollover
@lex-winchester
@magicalmorg
@nicole01-23
@jessicab1991
@happyrebelruins
@samsgoddess
@ughthisisntright
@bellaireland1981
@sagittarius-flowerchild
@mygyn
@yuckosworld
@daggerspare-standingby
@nessjo
@trickphotography2
@lyn-js
@marve2014
@furiousladyking
425 notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 3 days
Text
Moonlight Waves
Yan Alien Human Guy Person + Jellyfish Hybrid Reader 
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: None, pure fluff
“If you put some thought into it…The ocean and space have a lot in common.” 
Vast, boundless frontiers- Depths and reach never to be fully unveiled to the eyes of man. All imposing surfaces blanketing both heaven and earth. Two opposing bodies that on nights just like this might align, conjoined by midnight and the luminous orb mirrored upon them both. The full moon was a blessed companion for those who found themselves alone on eves similar to this- Solace and guidance found in her radiance. 
“Whelp- Guess it's time to throw myself.”
Wiser folk have said desperate times call for desperate measures- While there were lesser extremes he could have gone to, this seemed like the quickest solution to their predicament. Twenty-four years on this planet and they had still yet to conquer the strenuous feat that was learning how to swim. His mothers were gentle in their upbringing- Apparently too gentle as they never pressured their child into braving the horrors of the swimming pool. On one hand, the biggest factor to their child's fear may have been the fact that it was their neighbor’s pool - and it'd be quite difficult to explain the eerie glow to their toddler's tears and the stains they left on clothing. 
They were fine with it early on, but as he grew - Alien realized how much he was missing out on being unable to swim. Most humans know how to swim by their age anyway which would give less credit to his claims of an earth born and raised member of the population….Which they were regardless of whether or not they knew how to swim.
Alien squares his shoulders, testing the binds of  numerous weights anchoring various parts of their body. Unsatisfied with the distribution, he plucks a stone from the moist sand surrounding his legs - unfastening the velcro of their right breast pocket and adding it to the collection. A horde of trinkets ranging from shells to stones to a couple marbles crowded each pocket from the vest they wore down to the swimming trunks they purchased for the occasion. So what if his body was more buoyant than the average human being- requiring additional weight to avoid floating off into the endless sea. Alien had always been a scrawny person-
“That should be enough- Wait…Is that?” 
Srounging for more space to stuff the final stone, a gentle glow envelopes their fingertips following a faint- snap! Alien pushes the rocks and shells aside, wrestling the shining band from beneath them with minimal effort. 
*Jackpot! I thought I used all of these already. With this baby on, I'm definitely ready for this. Wish me luck up here!”
Alien gazes up at the moon as they slip the glow-stick bracelet onto their arm. It's the last thing they see as their legs carry the rest of them towards the end of the cliff. Had it not been a full moon or the sky so clear- tonight may have gone different for them. They could've swallowed their pride, and went to bed with intentions to sign up for the nearest swim class come morning. Realistically, Alien knew he'd never go through with that plan, but it was nice in theory. Safer too-
Head lost in the cloudless sky, Alien yelps as the ground is swept from beneath them - their screams swiftly snuffed by gallons of water as they're dragged into a plummet off the cliff's edge. Their body connects with the sea, pockets of air bubbling to the surface from the force at which they collide. The oxygen escaping him would have been alarming - had they any need for it. Whether they could hold their breath or their biology simply skipped the stage where their lungs depended on air was a secret they'd take to the grave. 
Sinking fast, Alien realizes what some might call a flaw in their ingenious plan. 
Perhaps, just maybe, they potentially added too much weight for them to claw their way back to the surface.
Ah well. 
Since they're already down here, there's no harm in exploring. Hard to see much beyond the gleam of their jewelry dangling freely around their wrist, but they dig the vibe of it all - drifting weightlessly without aim or reason. The deeper they dove, the brighter the natural fluorescence of their skeleton bled through their skin. Alien had heard of a condition that made people's skin slightly yellow before. Surely the green glow of their bones had to be in the same family. The shine widens their range of sight. By now, it was hard to decipher which way they were facing. The moon had long since faded from view….
Oh, wait. There it is..
….
Is it?
Stranging their eyes through the blackened depths of the ocean, Alien can clearly make something out miles away from them - shrouded by a halo of light. It almost mimics their guideless descent - floating off course before gradually aligning itself in a mostly linear ascent towards them. That alone was enough evidence whatever they were looking at was not the moon. The fluctuation of its surface and the four, almost crescent shaped markings atop only served as further proof. Inch by inch, as the space between them grew narrow, Alien could make out more of its features. Flowing tendrils, a pair of arms floating freely at its sides, a face adorned with a dopey smile. 
Face to face, the near angelic like figure raises one of its hands - waving its fingers at the unfamiliar face within its territory. Alien’s eyes tighten from the phosphorescence of the creature's skin. Ignoring the sting, Alien lifts his own hand, mirroring the entity’s motions. The corners of its smile peak higher upon its face, head following the dim glow of their bracelet. The lightly draws focus to the stones bulging from his pockets. The creature's grin falters into tight lipped confusion.
“Hey…Hey!” 
Alien struggles to make a sound as its hands paw at the straps of their pockets. Successfully tearing the sleeve open, the creature yanks out every rock, every shell- It pauses briefly to marvel at the eye of the marbles in Alien's pocket before shoving them beneath the cap of their head as they continue. Depleting their vest of its contents was all it took to send Alien on their upwards rise towards the surface. The angel waves again before swimming its way to the top, gliding gracefully as a true angel would through the sky. It grabs onto Alien's wrist, tugging him along with them as he apparently took too long for their liking.
Alien could only watch on in awe as the darkness peeled away - moonlight adding on to the ethereal, otherworldly glimmer that was this being and its flesh. Could this be Alien's first encounter with an extraterrestrial? There was no possible way a creature of this radiance was from earth. They just couldn't be-
The creature releases their hold on Alien's wrist as they breach air. Alien finds himself searching for their touch, and another item he appeared to be missing. The angel, the only term Alien found fit for them, wandered towards the shore without him- back facing the sand as they spun a glowing band around their finger. Alien channels the knowledge of every training video they viewed before their trip as they doggy paddle in the general direction of the shore. Thankfully, there was still enough weight in their shorts to keep them perfectly balanced between drifting off and going under. 
The energy is depleted from their very soul by the time they reach their destination. The angel sits with its lower half still bathed by the oncoming tide, rolling a marble through the crystalized sand. It throws its arm into the air as Alien appears.
The angel waves. Alien, running on fumes and the strange heartache that would come from not reciprocating their kind gesture- waves back.
The angel helps Alien sit upright, returning the marbles they had borrowed back into the land dweller’s pocket from which they can. Alien fishes out of the marble they saw the angel toy with and gives it back to them.
“Keep that one… So-  you got a name?” 
The angel’s mouth falls open in a “O” of both surprise and honor at the present. They brush the sand smooth before rolling the marble through it once more. Inspecting their craft, Alien can make out letters the further along the angel continues.
“Y/n? That's your name?”
You clap your hands in praise, sound and ferocity increased by the wetness of your palms. Cute. 
“You, uh, come here often?”
The point of your finger towards the water states the obvious fact that you live here. A murmur akin to laughter slips past your lips at that one. 
“You got me there… The sea’s pretty big, though. What I'm asking is can I see you again?”
You tap a finger to your chin in thought, head dipping towards the bracelet now hanging from your own wrist. You point to it, hope and wonder present in your grin. 
“You like the bracelet? You can keep that too. I can bring you more if that's what you're asking.”
Clapping again, you latch onto Alien's side - merging your fingers with theirs as you hold them both to the sky. Moonlight pours through your skin and theirs, transparency muddled by the existence of their bones. Your head falls to their chest- a whisper so quiet they almost missed it. 
“Like me…” 
They're glad that they didn't. 
259 notes · View notes
nicksbestie · 3 days
Text
Nooks And Crannies - M. Sturniolo
a series
part five (read part four here)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary : You always seem to be somewhere in the bookstore Matt works at, never buying anything, just reading, and while Matt is technically not supposed to talk to customers for so long while he's on the clock, he can't help himself.
Warnings : none!
Word Count : 1038
Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)
A/N : i didn't forget about this little project, don't worry!!
Tumblr media
You stared at the bookmark, and the number scribbled onto it, pushing down the anxiety and deciding to send a message.
hi! is this matt?
You didn’t have to wait long for a response, the almost immediate ping of your phone catching you by surprise, indicating a reply.
(XXX)-XXX-XXXX : yes! i assume this is ____?
You quickly saved his contact, simply saved as “matt :)”.
“yes! how are you?” 
The conversation only blossomed from there. You were glad that you lived alone now, because had you still been living at home, your family would have teased you about just how much you were smiling at your phone. You texted Matt nearly nonstop, and you had been enjoying every moment of it. It was just like your normal conversations at The Ivy, sharing book thoughts, or snippets of your day, or even funny jokes. You had received a ton of silly pictures from Matt’s brothers, as they had a habit of stealing his phone and sending random selfies. You found it funny, Matt found it annoying, but either way, you always had something to talk about. Conversation with him was never dry, which you had been slightly afraid of when you had texted him for the first time, and he always replied as quickly as possible, unless he was at work. 
When you weren’t talking, you couldn’t deny the fact that you missed speaking to him. It was really nice to have someone who actually wanted and enjoyed talking to you. It was another couple of days before you could actually take any time off to leave your apartment, and of course, the first place that you went when you left that afternoon was The Ivy. It had been pouring rain, but you couldn’t stand being inside your room for one more minute. So, you pulled on a raincoat, grabbed the umbrella by your door, and began the short walk downtown. Since it was warm out, and the sun was peeking through some clouds, the walk wasn’t miserable, and you actually quite enjoyed it. You had always loved the rain, and since you had an umbrella to keep you dry, you didn’t mind being out walking in it. 
It wasn’t long before you pushed open the door to The Ivy, shaking your umbrella out beforehand. You wrapped it up, putting it into your bag, and moving to a shelf that had some colorful book covers, as they had caught your eye the second you walked in. You noticed that a lot of them were new shipments, having just been placed on the shelves, and you were so excited to pick up a couple of them and pore over the pages. You read the backs of a few of them, and they seemed intriguing, so you held them in your arms as you made your way over to the cafe to get a cup of coffee. Besides, you deserved it after your insanely busy previous couple of days. However, when you got over to the counter, there was already a cup with your name scribbled on it, with it being your usual. 
You went and picked it up, smiling when you noticed Matt waving at you, sitting at one of the tables with his own cup. “Was this you?” You asked, motioning to the cup. He smiled at you, nodding. “I saw you walk in, figured I’d order your usual for you since I was grabbing my own coffee anyways.” You smiled, taking a drink from it, enjoying the way you automatically felt relaxed. “Well, aren’t you sweet.” He grinned, a smirk on his face. “I try.” You read the back of the book that he was reading, nodding in slight interest, and it was at this point that you noticed the name tag being on his shirt.
“Wait, are you working right now?” 
He shook his head, turning a page.
“Nope. I’m on my break, but I took it so late that I actually get off only fifteen minutes after I go back on shift.”
You sat with Matt for the rest of his break, chatting about random things, mostly books and coffee, but also how both of your mornings had gone prior to being at The Ivy. Matt had worked a short mid-day shift, so he hadn’t been there all morning, which he was grateful for. He had picked up a coworker’s shift since they had been searching for coverage due to a family emergency, and he was heading right back home as soon as he got off. You found a good book to read when Matt had to clock back in, and you dove right into it. You were enjoying the gentle atmosphere, and the time flew. You were a fast reader, so you got through a good chunk of the book before Matt got off the clock and found you still at the coffee table, coming over to say goodbye before he left The Ivy. 
“So, where are you heading after you leave here?” 
You softly laughed, shrugging.
“Honestly, I’m not sure. The rain has gotten a lot worse, and I was going to go walk around shops, but I’m not sure I want to go back out into that. I may just stay here for a while until it lets up, but I’m glad I got to see you! Even if it was within your working hours.”
He smiled, removing the name tag off of his shirt.
“Yeah! One of these days, we’ve got to hang out outside of this shop. I do have a personality other than work.” 
“Oh, I’m sure that you do. You’ll have to show me it eventually.” 
Matt looked like he was pondering an idea, so you quietly waited for a response.
“Why don’t you come home with me?” 
You were slightly taken aback, and nervously laughed.
“Damn, you have to ask me out first!” 
Matt smiled, shaking his head.
“Not like that. Just for dinner. You can meet my brothers, we can spend time together outside of where I work, a nice get to know you more night. If you’re not interested, I totally understand!” 
You smiled at him, walking towards the door with him.
“I would love to.”
Tumblr media
taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0
@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo
@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack
@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover
@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff
@satvisfavetoodles @zivall @elliesturniolo1 @elliewrites1
~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!
~ my inbox is open, come chat!!
145 notes · View notes
ham1lton · 1 day
Note
47 with FA14 please :)
047. the inside of an elevator that won’t move w/ FA14.
— part of a series of drabbles! <3
you were incredibly annoyed. so annoyed in fact, that you were this close to quitting this job. your very cushy hybrid job which paid incredible and gave you your own office even though you mostly worked from home. toto, your boss, had given you the alonso case which meant that you’d be working through your sister’s wedding. the same wedding you’d booked off months ago.
you get in the elevator, slightly fuming, as an older man also got in the elevator with you. he turns to you.
“floor three please.” he asks politely, as you’re standing next to the buttons. you seethe but press the button for him.
as the two of you stand in silence, the elevator suddenly stops. you give each other a panicked look. the silence between the two of you is heavy, only broken by the occasional faint hum of the elevator’s machinery. you click the help button and after a short conversation with the very unhelpful guy on the other end, you’re told help will arrive in half an hour.
“great! just what i fucking needed.” you mutter. he turns to you. “what? like this is a great situation for you either?”
“no, obviously not.” he says, in very accented english.
“so don’t give me that look.” you roll your eyes.
he raises his hands defensively. "okay, okay. truce?"
you sigh, realizing you're being unfair. it’s not like it’s his fault. "yeah, sorry. it's just been a really bad day."
"tell me about it," he says, leaning against the elevator wall. "what’s got you so worked up?"
"my boss just dumped this huge case on me last minute," you say, frustration bubbling up again. "it’s for this big client, alonso or something. now i have to miss my holiday because of it. i had the time off booked for months."
he raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "alonso? that's tough."
"yeah, and all because some big shot can't finalize a business contract on time," you grumble. “what’s so important about this stupid contract anyways?”
he looks away, as if contemplating something. "sounds like a real pain. what do you do, exactly?"
"i'm a corporate lawyer. and you?"
he hesitates for a moment before answering, "i'm... in business. finance, mostly."
you roll your eyes. "well, mr. finance, at least you’re not stuck working on a weekend for some unreasonable client."
the silence that follows feels heavier than before, and he shifts uncomfortably. "yeah, must be tough," he says quietly.
you frown, feeling slightly guilty for venting so much. "sorry, i didn't mean to unload on you. it's just been a lot."
he nods, offering a small, understanding smile. "i get it. sometimes things don’t go the way we planned."
you both fall silent for a second, the hum of the elevator the only sound, as you wait for help to arrive. then, as if compelled to fill the void, you continue. "it's just... my sister's wedding this weekend. i've been looking forward to it for months. and now, because of this contract, i'm going to miss it. i don't even know why it's so urgent."
he shifts again, looking like he wants to say something but isn't sure if he should. "maybe the client has their reasons," he offers carefully. "not that it makes it any easier for you."
"yeah, well, whoever they are, i hope their business crashes and burns," you mutter darkly. "no contract is worth missing something so important."
there's another pause before he speaks again, his voice softer this time. "sometimes, it's hard to see the bigger picture when you're in the thick of it."
you look at him, a hint of curiosity mixed with your frustration. "you sound like you know a lot about this."
he gives a half-smile as he shrugs, almost rueful. "more than i'd like to admit."
before you can ask more, the elevator jerks and starts moving again. you both breathe a sigh of relief as the doors slide open. he gestures for you to go first. "after you."
as you step out, you glance back at him. "thanks for listening. and sorry for the rant."
"anytime," he says, his smile warm but his eyes holding a hint of something you can't quite place. "good luck with that contract. and i hope you find a way to make it to your sister's wedding."
"thanks," you say, still feeling a bit unsettled as you walk away, wondering why his understanding smile seemed to hold more weight than a simple stranger's sympathy.
later that evening, as you’re buried in paperwork, your phone buzzes with an email notification. it's from toto. you open it, and your heart skips a beat.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
subject: urgent update on alonso case
dear l/n,
i have some unexpected news regarding the alonso contract. the client personally requested to change the deadline, granting you the weekend off. i know this is a surprise, but please take the weekend to attend your sister's wedding.
best,
toto.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
your mind races as you read the email again. how did the client know about your situation? you stare at the screen, the pieces slowly clicking into place. the man from the elevator—the one who listened so intently, who seemed to know more than he let on—he must be connected to alonso.
the realisation brings a mix of emotions: relief, slight embarrassment, gratitude, and a touch of something warmer. you can't help but smile, remembering his kind eyes and supportive words. your phone beeps again.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
subject: dinner invitation
dear y/n,
i hope this message finds you well. i wanted to extend an invitation for dinner sometime this week. it would be a pleasure to meet in person and discuss matters beyond business.
please let me know if you're interested and i hope you enjoy the wedding.
warm regards,
fernando alonso.
ceo of alonso corp.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
author’s note: i don’t actually write for fernando but this was calling to me so i decided to fulfil the prompt. i hope this isn’t too ooc. my bad. also reader and ceo!alonso go on the date and fall in love and the week before their wedding he pretends to get her on a contract all over again bc he thinks its funny.
114 notes · View notes
thoushallnotfall · 2 days
Text
Walkin' After Midnight
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Pairing: Marko x Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Note: *finger guns* Ehhhhh...so it’s been a minute. How ya’ll been? So completely ignoring that’s it’s been...a long time, here’s another of my ‘imagine the boys in a decade prior to the 80s’ fics--and we’re moving right along to the 50s! (and for reference every subsequent fic in this...series(?) including this one are going to be named after songs from their decade because I am incredibly unoriginal. 🙃 I started this...a very long time ago, and then I didn’t like it so I just left it in my WIPs with like 15 other ideas/half-written fics/updates. I still don’t love it, but upon further reflection after the fact I don’t totally hate it--and it was already started so I didn’t have to work as hard to finish it, so there’s that too.
That being said, I'm kind of interested in writing a part 2, so we'll see...taking babysteps here.
(I’m really having to dig deep for these gifs)
Every kid from Santa Carla grew up knowing two things: Don’t go out after dark if you ever want to make it home, and stay away from the greasers who hung around the boardwalk.
It never really occurred to you that those two things could be related.
Unlike a lot of the teenagers in Santa Carla, who’d run there with nowhere else to go, you’d lived there all your life. You’d never left the city, and the older you got the more you doubted you ever would. Your dad had been killed in Vietnam, and your mom was around so little you half expected one day she’d just stop coming back home at all. You may not be one of the runaways, but you were still alone in Santa Carla.
Still, you were young; and while you knew you’d have to find a way to live on your own sooner or later, you decided to try and enjoy what little youth you had left. One day you’d have to grow up and start providing for yourself somehow, but for now you just wanted to live your life to the fullest before that all got taken away.
With that in mind, you’d taken to going to plenty of the dances and social events in town. You didn’t have a curfew, and no one was around to care about where you were, but even so you tried not to be out too late after dark. That’s always when the people went missing--and they never came back.
That’s why it was the first rule of Santa Carla: Don’t go out after dark.
The official numbers were never right, given how many of the people who disappeared were runaways, but the amount of missing people in Santa Carla had always been unusually high. The only thing they knew for sure was that they always seemed to vanish at night.
The prevalent theory among many of the local teens was aliens. They came out with their flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting people in the night. Others were more practical--they just thought there was a really good serial killer in town.
It could be anyone! They’d say.
But people have always gone missing in Santa Carla--is he an old man, still killing people in his 70s? Someone else would question.
Okay, so a family of serial killers! They’d say back.
Personally, you had no idea who or what was making people disappear. You only cared about surviving it, and the best way to do that was stay in at night.
Then, there was the second rule of Santa Carla: Stay away from the greasers.
There was a particularly nasty group of punks who usually hung around the Boardwalk at night. No one knew who they were--probably just another group of runaways--but people had grown to know they were trouble. A gang of greasers who didn’t care about the law and would sooner gut a man than say hello. That’s what people said about them, anyway.
So imagine your surprise when you broke both rules in a single night.
--
The night in question started out well enough. You and a friend had gone to the beach in the afternoon, and spent most of the day there. At one point, the two of you had attracted the attention of some boys--who ended up spending the day with you.
So when the sun got low and it was time to leave, your friend decided to accept the invitation from the boys to go get some dinner at the local diner. You however, weren’t as excited about the prospect. Not only did you not want to be out too late, you frankly just weren’t that interested in any of them. Your friend tried to get you to change your mind, but you held firm.
And so it was that your friend headed off with the guys. At least she brought you into town so you wouldn’t have so far to walk to get home. And while you weren’t jazzed about walking home alone you figured you could make it back quick enough that it’d be okay. Unfortunately, it was nearly dark before you even made it back to town--and well into the night by the time you walked past the Boardwalk.
You tried to hurry your way through the crowded streets of tourists and late-night couples walking hand in hand without any trouble. But of course that's exactly what you find.
"Hey there pretty lady, going my way?" A big guy in a varsity sweater asks. He looked like a jock--maybe home from college? You didn't know him, and you certainly didn't want to.
"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." You say, hoping to sidestep him and continue on your way. He moves to stand in front of you.
"Aw, don't be like that doll." He says, looming over you. "I just want to get to know you."
"Well I'm not interested." You say, trying to push past him. He grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight it makes you wince in pain.
"Not so fast girlie--we ain't done talking yet." He says, pulling you back.
Oh God, this is it. He's a part of that serial killer family and you're about to get murdered.
Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the creep let's you go. He screams as he looks to his other side. You follow his gaze and see a greaser with blonde, curly hair standing next to him--the jock's wrist in his hand. He squeezes it tighter and the jock falls to one knee, yelling in pain.
"Don't like it so much on the receiving end, do yah punk?" The boy says, squeezing even tighter. Despite being smaller than the other boy, the greaser was still clearly stronger.
"What the hell man? Let me go!" The jock begs.
"You want me to let you go?" The greaser smirks. "Alright." He lets the guy go, before quickly using his now free hand to punch him square in the face. The boy falls back, holding his bloody, broken face in his hands. The greaser grabs the bleeding boy by the collar and pulls him up, smiling at him. "Now beat it before I decide to get serious." He says, dropping his collar. The boy scrambles up and runs off, disappearing down an allyway.
You watch him run off, stunned by what had just happened.
"You okay?" The blonde asks, having turned his attention to you. You practically jump out of your shoes.
"What? Oh." You look down at your wrist. "Yeah, it's fine--I mean, um, I'm fine." You stumble through before looking back up at him. "Thank you."
"No problem. Punks like that deserve a good beating." He says, before he smirks. "And I couldn't let him hurt a pretty thing like you, now could I?"
Uh oh, you may have just gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.
"So what's your deal anyway? You know it's not safe walking around alone at night, right?" He asks, ignoring your apprehensive look.
"We'll um," You hesitated, unsure of how much you should say about yourself. "I was out with a friend, but she had other plans. She drove, so..."
"So now you're stuck walking back. I get you." He says. "Pretty uncool of your friend, ditching you like that. But hey, I'll make sure you get home safe."
"What?" You nearly shout. "Um, no really that's not necessary. I'm fine now, so--"
"No way. I already told you--you're way too cute to be out here on your own." He says, cutting off your attempt to protest. "My bike's nearby, let's go."
"I would really hate to put you out," you try once more to worm our way out of the situation, but he wasn't having it.
He smirks, "I offered didn't I? Don't worry about it." He grabs your hand and all but drags you down the block.
Soon enough, you arrive at a parking lot, and he leads you towards a row of four motorcycles lined up in the corner. He lets you go, moving to the bike at the end and throwing his leg over to sit. He looks at you, holding out his hand. You were pretty sure you couldn't get away from him even if you tried, so you took a deep breath and accepted his outstretched hand. He helps you onto the back of the bike, smirking as gravity slide you down towards him.
"So princess, were are we going?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at you sitting behind him. You hesitated giving him your address, but at this point if he wanted to do something nefarious he didn't need to take you home first.
You were in too deep now.
You tell him, and he nods, "Yeah, I know the place." He starts the bike, giving you one last smirk as he revves the engine, "Better hold on tight."
Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as the bike shoots forward. You gripped him tightly, you head resting on his back. You squeezed your eyes shut, fear coursing through you as your heartbeat raced. As much as you knew you should watch where you were heading, you were too scared to open your eyes. He was going fast--very fast--and with each bump and turn, you were sure you would crash and that would be the end of it.
But the two of you didn't crash, and before you knew it the bike slowed to a stop. You dared to open an eye, and saw you sat in front of your house. A little run down and a bit worse for wear, but still yours. You sat up, shocked you had not only survived the ride, but that he had actually brought you home.
"This it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. You turned to him,
"Oh, um--yes, it is."
"Doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented absently, and you felt your shoulders tense.
"Oh, my parents are here--they just go to bed early," you lied. Something told you he knew you weren't telling him the truth, but he didn't say anything.
You hoped off the bike, smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt out of habit. You took a step towards your door, then stopped. You turned, looking back at the smirking, curly-haired boy sitting lazily on his bike.
"Thank you again. For bringing me home, and for helping me with that guy earlier, " you were still scared of him, but he had helped you. It would be bad manners not to at least thank him for his help.
He laughs, the moonlight catching his blue eyes as he stared back at you.
"Anytime, princess," he replies. He started his bike, glancing back up at you, "I'm Marko, by the way."
"Oh, I'm y/n." You had certainly not planned to tell him your name, but at this point could it really hurt?
"Well, I'll see you around, y/n," he says, his smile wide and mischievous. Before you could say anything more, he rode off down the quiet street, disappearing into the darkness.
80 notes · View notes
grimm-writings · 16 hours
Note
HI IT'S EAVESDROP ANON YOU GAVE ME AN IDEA what if izutsumi and reader faced the succubi together, and izu sees that one of reader's succubi looks like chilchuck !! maybe she promises to keep it a secret, but also talks to reader about it? bonus points if izu and reader have a sort of unspoken mother/daughter relationship :')
to the grave
Tumblr media
…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader, izutsumi & reader
…tags! headcanon format, slight suggestive points, motherly reader
…wc! 623
…notes! give it up for One Whole Request Complete omfg. sorry for how short it is eavesdrop anon it’s been a rough few weeks for me 🫶 this is absolutely not my best work, but i did what i could!
Tumblr media
“Come on… I know you always thought about how I’d look underneath you.”
Hearing the words come from his mouth renders you still.  It’s his face, his voice, yet completely wrong.
You had thought he had somehow recovered and came back to help you, but of course it isn’t as easy as it appeared.
You’re lucky to have Izutsumi with you.  If it weren’t for her pushing you out of the way to claw at the succubus, you probably would have dropped all pretence and leaned down to where you had Chilchuck – or the succubus, rather – pinned to the floor to kiss.
Still, you can’t miss the look of absolute disbelief she gives you.
Silence fills the air as the succubus is reduced to nothing more than slob on the floor.  You refuse to look at what, to you, is eerily similar to Chilchuck’s visage.  Disturbingly so.  For just a second, you consider reaching out to it (him?) again.  However, Izutsumi is quick to swat you away. “Hey, we have a mob incoming,” she tells you.  You are about to retort, interrogating if she even felt remorse for hurting someone that looks like your ally, but Izutsumi’s quick to interrupt.  “We’ll discuss this later.” She leaves your side.  Preparing your weapon with a deep breath, you prepare to fight off the waves of succubi ahead.
It’s only when you and Izutsumi assemble all the bodies of your allies does she finally speak up.
She really isn’t interested in the ‘hot gossip’ like Marcille would be.  In her own rough way, Izutsumi is more just expressing worry for you.
She doesn’t overall react to the fact it’s Chilchuck that you saw.  It was just sort of an “Oh!” before she remembered that this succubus will steal your life force.
“So, you just wanted to protect me?” At your conclusion, Izutsumi growls.  She faces away from you as she drags over a succubus to drain into Senshi’s pot. “When you put it like that,” she grumbles, “it makes it sound all virtuous and sappy.” You laugh, reaching over to pat Izutsumi’s head.  “I appreciate it very much, thank you Izutsumi.” Maybe it’s the fact she just had to confront this ‘mother’ the succubi took the form of, but the cat girl feels at ease when you show affection to her.  She sighs, giving up on the argument quicker than she normally would.
That is to say… she wouldn’t not tease you.
She’d hand you some of the milk, poured into a bowl.  “Here, for Chilchuck.”
Your face contorts in confusion.  “Why me?”
“So you can get all close and intimate and stuff.”
“Izutsumi.”
She wants to support you both!  She just… doesn’t really care.
The party has woken up, and by now Marcille has spoken up, “what were your succubi like?  Laios?  Oh, what about yours?” She turns to you, her green eyes glimmering with curiosity.  Cheeks and tip of her ears flushed, it’s hard to miss what exactly she’s on about. You sheepishly laugh anyway, your mind recalling the lowered eyelids, the words spoken to you by the succubus.  “I don’t know if I…” “Hey, don’t pressure her to say things like that.” Chilchuck’s voice cuts through the air, and makes you jump.  He’s at your side, shooing Marcille away.  “That stuff’s usually private for a reason.  If she wants to say, she will.” It doesn’t go unnoticed how Chilchuck doesn’t say a word when Marcille instead asks Laios for details on his succubus, though. Though you should be glad Izutsumi isn’t awake to see this.  If she was, she’d be rolling her eyes and bemoaning how nauseating the pining was to herself.  So, maybe taking things to the grave is for the better.
Tumblr media
71 notes · View notes
pluckyredhead · 2 days
Note
☕️ what if I want the rant about ollie cheating now (or whenever you're up for it)
Oh good, because I mentioned it as bait and I'm glad someone took me up on it. 😂
CW: Sexual assault.
Yeah so here's the thing: Ollie has definitely canonically cheated on Dinah at least once, maybe twice depending on your definition. But the idea of Ollie as a serial cheater and womanizer comes from a story where he is raped. Which uhhhh is absolutely NOT cheating.
So for nearly 30 years, Ollie had exactly zero love interests. The closest he came was Miss Arrowette/Bonnie King (Cissie's mom), who appears in exactly 3 stories in the early 60s where Ollie only regards her as a pest...but in a 1969 issue of JLA where all the Leaguers bring dates to a carnival, he brings Bonnie because up to that point, she was literally the only woman he had interacted with besides Wonder Woman.
Also in 1969, he meets Dinah. Within a few issues, he's declaring his love:
Tumblr media
Note that there's nothing to indicate that Ollie knows Bruce is stalling for time. He's just down bad.
Anyway, Ollie and Dinah are soon in a committed relationship and remain that way for over 20 years. Starting in the 80s, various writers introduced a couple of brief relationships with other women in Ollie's pre-Green Arrow past, but that's not cheating either - he dated them before he knew Dinah.
Then in 1987, DC introduced Shado, a Yakuza assassin and the best archer in the world, better than Ollie. Ollie and Shado have an immediate and intense emotional connection, but he is in a committed relationship, and neither Ollie nor Shado even vaguely hints at him leaving Dinah for her.
But then Shado shoots Ollie (long story), and then nurses him back to health through his injury-induced fever and delirium. And a little while after that, she turns up with a son, Robert, who looks a lot like Ollie. Dinah is suspicious, so Shado tells her that Ollie didn't cheat on her: Shado had sex with Ollie while he was delirious and thought she was Dinah, and Ollie has no memory of it and has no idea that Robert is his son.
To be clear: this was rape. The story doesn't treat it like rape, and it's clear the writer didn't understand that it was rape. To this day, no comic has acknowledged that Shado raped Ollie. In fact, when Ollie finds out about it years later, he's happy, because he wanted a biological son (this was pre-Connor).
(My feelings about Shado are complicated. I think she's a really interesting character, and I'm loath to discard her because of this one incident that was not intended to be interpreted as rape, but I also think it's really important that we acknowledge that it was rape because our culture is not good about consent. I think we can hold multiple ideas in our heads at once, like "Shado is interesting and cool" and "this is a fucked up story and male survivors should be supported and believed.")
The original comic also didn't treat it as cheating, but subsequent writers did. It didn't help that in the early 90s, there was a scene where Ollie (canonically in the back half of his 40s) is kissed by a college-age girl named Marianne who has a crush on him, and kisses her back. Dinah caught them and eventually broke up with Ollie over it (among other reasons). I think this is one of those things where some people would consider it cheating and some wouldn't, so YMMV.
Ollie was then killed off and replaced by Connor, and Connor's book was written by Chuck Dixon, who really hyped up Ollie's legacy of sluttiness (citation needed, Chuck) in contrast to Connor's virginal but definitely totally heterosexual purity. (Lollll sucks to suck, Chuck.)
Then Ollie was brought back. And as much as I love Quiver, the story that brings him back, it absolutely depicts what happened with Shado as Ollie cheating, which: NO, KEVIN SMITH. IT WAS RAPE. (Interestingly, Dinah seems to consider what happened with Marianne to be cheating, while Roy does not.)
This was also at the start of the post-9/11 era, where there was a real preoccupation with depicting heroes as deeply flawed, dishonest, and generally harmful, with feet of clay - just generally fucking up and being assholes pretty much all the time. (See Identity Crisis, Civil War.) And so Ollie then definitively cheated on Dinah, having sex with Black Lightning's niece Joanna, who was almost immediately murdered by a supervillain afterwards which was also largely framed as Ollie's fault because superheroes ruin everything. (And because Joanna was a triple threat of female, Black, and sexually active, so she HAD to be fridged.)
Dinah dumped Ollie again, and the way Ollie was talked about in the comics - and outside of them - rapidly escalated, with basically every character constantly describing him as a cheating horndog who couldn't keep it in his pants. This dovetailed with Ollie being portrayed as worse and worse in flashbacks around Connor's conception and birth - originally he didn't even know about Connor, then he knew but lied to everyone, then he was actively cruel to Connor's mother, etc.
I think the peak (or nadir) of all this for me was when Dinah told Babs she was marrying Ollie and Babs shrieked that she couldn't because Ollie was a CHEATER who had "fathered Connor with that Shado woman!" Um, Connor's mother is Sandra Hawke, Connor is a good 15 years older than Robert Jr., Ollie had not even met Dinah at that point, and I don't remember who wrote that issue of BoP but if you can't tell the difference between two entirely different Asian women, you're a racist hack.
Thanks to the New 52, this is all pretty much in the past (the New 52 had entirely different Green Arrow problems, including him being raped again but a completely different woman).
But in conclusion: yes, it's canon that Ollie has cheated on Dinah. However, he only cheated after getting a reputation as a cheater when he was in fact a victim of rape. Before that, he was a horndog, but specifically for Dinah and Dinah alone, and he was faithful. And I'm glad that the discourse on this has shifted so much in the past decade or so, because Ollie has done plenty of things we should blame him for, but this wasn't one of them.
35 notes · View notes
hannahssimblr · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I spend three hours wandering around the estate looking for Goose. I've checked every front garden, every hedge and flower bed and under every car, looked inside bins and up trees by the time I'm forced to contend with the fact that I haven't confronted the railroad tracks yet. I don't. I never pluck up the courage.
I can’t fathom it, being the one to find him there, sweet Goose with his little kitten paws and soft pewter fur. This thought that I hadn’t even considered until Michelle spat it at me is tormenting me now as I forlornly wander the evening streets, calling out the name that I’m not even sure he knows to answer to yet. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I stumble upon Jen in a little park we used to drink in when we were fourteen. She’s been out looking too, evidently, but has had enough and is sitting on the ground gazing out over the last russet streaks of sunset over Dublin Bay. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Have you given up?” I ask her. Her eyes are clouded with sadness 
“I have a feeling he’s gone, Jude,” she says. I feel a lump forming in my throat. “He mightn’t be. He might come back, you know, cats are known to show up after being away for days, weeks, months even,” this is the sort of bargaining a person who refuses to accept the obvious truth gets too involved with, and the kind I’ve been doing with myself the whole afternoon, thinking that maybe if I imagine Goose’s return with enough conviction I will magic him home again, but Jen, for once does not match my idealism.
“He probably doesn’t know where his home is yet, he’s too new.”
Tumblr media
“Yeah,” I shift some loose gravel with the toe of my shoe. “Jen, I feel so awful.”
“I know,” she says, and holds her arms out to me to pull me to the ground and wrap them around me, “It isn’t your fault, it could have happened to any of us.”
“I ruined the entire day with my stupidity.”
“Shh, stop,” gently fingers stroke my hair at the nape of my neck, “you just made a mistake, it’s human.”
“Did I ruin your date?”
She pauses, “It’s okay, I don’t think she realised it was a date, and it's probably for the best.” 
Tumblr media
The wind rustles through the trees around the park, and I feel chilled with the knowledge that change is coming. The school year is ending soon and now the future lies unavoidably ahead of me, a path completely untrodden. 
Tumblr media
“You’ll find someone else to take to the debs,” I tell Jen, peering at the side of her face as her short crop of chestnut hair is backlit by the sunset. “You should have been the first person to get a date anyway.”
She gives me a half smile, unconvinced, “there are like, four lesbians in our year including me.”
“Out lesbians,” I point out, “You never know.”
“When I go to college it will be better,” she says firmly, “school is just destined to be shit, romantically, I mean.”
“In all ways, I think.”
She just laughs. 
Tumblr media
“This stuff is bullshit anyway.”
“What is? Love?”
I rub my arms where goosebumps are rising with the cold. I should have worn a jumper. “Yeah, you’re not missing out on much.”
Tumblr media
A silence follows, one that feels deliberate, but I venture into it anyway, “Michelle and I had a bad fight earlier.”
“I heard.”
“Us shouting?”
“Mm.”
“Sorry.” I wipe my nose which is running from the cold with the back of my arm. “It was terrible, we both said awful things.”
Tumblr media
She just circles her hand on my knee in a vague gesture of comfort.  
“Sometimes it feels like she’s trying to hurt me, you know what I mean? It’s like she has all of this bad stuff stored up that she wants to, like, unleash. It’s so vicious. It seems like she really wants to dig her nails in and leave a mark on me, and then I get so defensive, like, because talking it out doesn’t work, I have to shout, and I have to be horrible too so that she’ll even react to me.”
“We all say things we regret when we’re upset.”
Tumblr media
“Yeah, but it’s so destructive. I come away from it all feeling like shit. Like, this isn't who I am, I’m not a person who fights. At least I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be up there saying these things to her, but I can’t stand there and let her say them to me either.”
“Yeah.”
“And I worry a lot about what things are going to look like after this year is over, like, with college and stuff,” even mentioning it makes my stomach feel tight, “like, um, how she wants us to live together and all.”
“And you’re nervous about that?”
Tumblr media
I sigh, “Well, I don’t know, it makes sense to do it, right? She thought we could get a little place near NCAD, and we’ve been looking at houses online, and… I don’t know. The idea of being around her all of the time, like, twenty-four-seven, sharing a bed, eating every meal together, walking to college, it makes me feel claustrophobic, and then I worry that if I feel that way now, how am I going to feel when I’m actually doing it? Surely it’s not supposed to feel so terrible, right?” I prompt her when she doesn’t respond, “Jen? What do you think?”
She pauses for a long moment, toying with the aglets on the end of her boot laces. “I think that you’re asking me for an opinion I’m not prepared to give you.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“...right.”
“We agreed, I agreed with you both that I’d never talk to one about the other. It’s not fair on me and I don’t want to feel stuck in the middle of it.”
“But-”
“You’re both nice people and I love you both so much, but when you are together you are absolutely horrible. That’s all I want to say.”
Tumblr media
I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't, I just sit in bad feelings and wish for the millionth time that my brain was normal enough to make good choices on its own and not beg them from other people.
I sniff again, though this time I’m not sure if it’s just because of the cold. “So, um, the acceptance deadline for those other colleges is coming up.” 
“The foreign ones?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still going to turn them down?”
“I promised Michelle that I would.” 
Tumblr media
Jen’s shoulders slump, all of her does, like someone has let the air out of her, but she just says, “Alright.”
I feel the teeth of my genuine desperation for her opinion, her approval gnawing at me. I just want the sage words of advice she’s withholding from me, “Is it a mistake? Like, if I reject their offers? Would that be the stupidest thing I ever did?”
“I don’t know.”
Tumblr media
“I worked hard, you know? I really put everything I had into those applications, I gave them the best that I had and they loved it, they said really nice things about me in the letters, and sometimes, like, I think I’ll die, or something, if I don’t leave Dublin. But then there’s Michelle,” I fist the front of my hair in my hand, “and the things at home, and I don’t know what the right thing is, whether it’s hurting myself or hurting everyone else…”
Tumblr media
“Jude,” Jen suddenly grabs hold of my face and forces me to look into her eyes, “you have to do what feels right, okay? I’m not going to tell you what to do. Like, just… you need to fucking search within or whatever.”
“Uh huh. What does that entail?” 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I dunno!” She lets me go and stands up, brushing dirt from the back of her jeans, “C’mon, it’s cold, we should go home.”
“Uh, I was kind of hoping you’d be able to solve me, actually.”
“No, this time you can solve yourself. C’mon, up!” She presents her hand to me and I let her haul me onto my feet. 
Tumblr media
“Ugh, Jen,” I say, feeling myself sinking back into a melancholy hole again, but she links my arms and brusquely walks me toward the playground gates with all the pep of a middle aged Sunday morning power walker. “You know what? I think we could both do with something nice to make us feel better.”
“What do you mean ‘something nice’?
“Like, I dunno, an ice cream or something.”
“What time is it? It must be after nine.”
Tumblr media
“Yeah, so? I was thinking of that place with all the weird flavours, do you remember that?”
“Yeah, but it’s all the way in town. Effort.”
“You can drive, can’t you?”
“You want me to drive? Jen I hate driving.”
“I think you’ll do it for me.”
“Why’d you think that?”
Tumblr media
She eyes me sideways, “After what you put me through today, hm?”
“That's manipulation.”
“No, it's payback.”
“Fine. I’ll go get the car.”
“Really?”
“Yes! Come on, before I change my mind.”
Beginning // Prev // Next
34 notes · View notes
jjsmaybank20 · 2 days
Note
can u write another sickfic but this time it's leighton who's sick 🥹 i haven't come across a fic where she's the one being comforted for once
Fine
Tumblr media
Leighton Murray x fem!reader
Summary: Leighton insists that she's fine, but everyone can see that she is actually sick.
Warnings: just fluff
Word Count: 489
A/N: Sorry it's so short! Hope you like it anyway.
navigation  the sex lives of college girls masterlist
---
Leighton Murray did not get sick. At least, that’s what she told herself as she blew her stuffed up nose into tissue. She did not get sick, this was not a cold, and she did NOT need to go rest back in her dorm room. The blonde did not miss the wary looks her math professor gave her, and she thanked every being above when he dismissed the class 10 minutes early. She rushed out of class, not really looking where she was going, causing her to make solid contact with a taller figure. 
Said person caught her before she could fall, and kept their hands on her shoulders. Before she could snap at them, she recognized your concerned voice. “Leight? Are you feeling okay?” Leighton all but melts into your arms, causing you to let out a surprised giggle. “Alright, let’s get you to your room. We can get all snuggled up and relax for the rest of the day.”
Leighton tries to protest, she really does, but the promise of her comfortable bed, some cuddles with her girlfriend, and some quiet to keep her rapidly-forming headache from pounding sound just too good to resist. 
You quickly steer her towards the dorms, rushing her through the entrance and up the stairs when you arrive. Leighton doesn’t really remember much about your journey to the building, which she would blame on the fact that her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. 
When you reach her suite, you quickly move towards her room. The shorter blonde drops to her bed, and you can’t suppress the laugh that leaves your mouth at how cute she looks. Leighton tries to fix you with a scathing glare when she hears you, but instead ends up looking like an adorable kitten trying to be tough. 
You gesture for her to raise her arms up, and you pull her shirt over her head. When Leighton wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, you roll your eyes. “We’re putting on comfy clothes, not having sex.” Leighton pouts, but she lets you pull one of your shirts that she had stolen from you over her head. You change into some of your sweats that you had left lying around her dorm before climbing into bed with your girlfriend. 
Wrapping your arms around her, you pull her back into your chest. Leighton turns around in your arms, burying her face in your neck and snuggling even closer to you. Reaching your hands underneath her shirt, you run your nails up and down her back. You can feel Leighton start to relax, and her breath evens out against your neck as she falls asleep. You set a reminder on your phone to go get Leighton some medicine in a few hours, but for now, what she needs is some rest. With your girlfriend wrapped around you, your eyes close and you let yourself drift off into a peaceful sleep.
---
@lovelyy-moonlight @pnsteblnme @nrm5656 @alotofpockets @theenglishswiftie @didyoubringauntienat @Emmie-223 @qutequeersstuff @marvelwomen-simp @sh1nnryuu @taytreesblog @luz-enjoyer @wanhedakomskai
If your name is crossed out, it means I couldn't tag you!
Join my taglist!
32 notes · View notes
foursaints · 16 hours
Note
Can you talk some more about bartydora if you dont mind
i've touched on this briefly before, but barty is an interesting character to pair with others for me because of his role as essentially just an Unsolvable Equation.
like his identity formation was so stunted & abnormal that barty is just layers of masks all the way down. he's an mc escher staircase. but the way others react to that problem reveals a lot about themselves!! and it's compounded by the fact that the twins (an inventor, a surgeon) are both problem-solvers at their core.
before i get into it: i think pandora treats him like a human being. but despite how nice it is, deep down i dont think barty LIKES being treated as a person (💀). he's just so unused to it.
barty will always pick the way that evan treats him, as some type of sick other half, where he doesn't NEED to be a person because he can just be evan's missing puzzle-piece instead. barty wants the comfort of being able to define himself in relation to something else.
BUT ANYWAY.
i think pandora is more comfortable sitting with the irrational than her brother. to me the quibbler is evidence of this, but so are her experiments (P wants to create something new, E wants to take apart/optimize what already exists). so that's why i believe she's one of the few people in the world who's close to barty WITHOUT wanting to peel back his layers.
the fandom likes to make her a necromancer, and i think this ties nicely into my conception of her character as someone Deeply Steeped In Grey Areas And Uncertainties. she's concerned with the murky boundaries between life/death, between her identity/her brother's, between the real world/dreams. barty is a living grey area & the way he goes all blank when he's not putting up a front doesn't alarm her (yet she doesn't obsess over & crave & sink into his moments of vulnerability the way Evan might)
esentially: pandora is RARELY distinguishable from evan, but their small differences are highlighted specifically whenever she's around barty. by both accepting & ignoring the central Ambiguity of barty's personhood, she is basically the only person alive who can be normal about him.
i think they have little crushes on each other that come & go because of that relationship!! they feel like childhood friends. they have a weird ability to make each other feel like a regular boy and girl: he's a little sheepish around her, she giggles when he ties her shoelaces, he's putting her on the handlebars of his bicycle... there's a lightness to that relationship that doesn't exist anywhere else in their lives.
i generally believe that everyone in their friend group inevitably develops a crush on barty, and pandora isn't an exception— for her it's the dorky crush you get on your brother's best friend. he's tall & handsome & funny & charming & kind to her in a way he isn't kind to anyone else. for barty, i think there's something about the rosiers (the idea of these angelic, odd, fucked up little sheltered creatures) that just instantly does it for him no matter what. at least 40% of what he feels for evan extends to his sister, just in a more innocent way
but it's not REAL, if that makes sense? because barty is ugly and violent and complicated, and so is pandora!! neither of them are actually the boy/girl next door, even if that's what they are to each other ? and they both implicitly know that, so the crushes inevitably fade? but i think it's really beautiful that they even CAN be that for each other? which is why the crush is always there, simmering under the surface a little?
i think there's a gendered aspect to this as well. maybe this is sexist but i see barty as being a gentler version of himself around girls in general (i’m thinking of: his closeness w/ his mother, his closeness w/ winky & her insistence that he’s a sweet boy)... i think he’s one of those dudes with terminal daddy issues who grew up watching his father mistreat his mother and it really affects how he treats women. he’s more comfortable with girls and he gets a little softer around them... pandora has always gotten this softer version of him
38 notes · View notes
pinky-mouse · 2 days
Text
The Sorrow of The Blue
Note: I don’t know what compelled me to write this crossover, but I did. I’m also not too great at writing fanfics either. That being said, enjoy, I guess. lol.
Tumblr media
GIF by pieropann
You were not supposed to be here. Most likely.
It’s strange, you had previously said that every gem that had visited this planet had turned traitor. And look at you now, enjoying the very earth that you had so callously declared to despise many millennia ago.
Were you a traitor then?
Perhaps.
You sat quietly on the steps of a worn staircase, your cloak’s hood covering you as a veil. You had come alone, you wanted to be, needed to be.
Yellow thought you were hysterical too often. You were a Diamond, not some puny, overly emotional lower life form. You were supposed to act according to your expectations - the very expectations set by the controlling White.
You sighed, your hands folded neatly on your lap. A thick tear dribbled down your cheek, but you didn’t bother to wipe it away. There was no point. More would follow shortly afterward anyway.
“Oh my,” You heard a voice say. It was a male. A male human. You kept your gaze ahead, looking at the flowers growing through the mulch in the garden. They were so organized, not a petal out of place.
Unlike your life.
The thought made a few more hot, salty tears of anguish spill down your cheeks. You let them flow. You were used to crying, though the feeling was never therapeutic. Crying was supposed to make you feel better, yet all it had done for you was make you feel so much worse. You felt weak and helpless.
“Miss, are you alright?” The voice asked again. You turned your head, a look of surprise on your flushed and watery features. It was an older human male.
“Ye—yes, I’m quite alright.” You responded, wiping your eyes as you fruitlessly attempted to collect your bearings. “I was just…lost in thought.”
You look ahead at the garden again. It’s so beautiful and serene, especially considering that it’s coming from the hands and care of a human.
“Your garden is lovely,” You swallow the lump lodged in your throat. It hurts, but you push the feeling away. “I did not think that a human would be capable of creating such beauty, but it seems I was wrong.”
“Why, thank you, Miss?” The old man says expectantly, but you’re back deep in your own swirling thoughts of grief, longing, and blame to notice. Your head hurts, like someone is rapping their hand against it as if it’s a door that needs to be opened.
He takes a quick glance at you and noticed your unnatural skin color, but makes no mention of it. Rather, he opts to sit next to your tall form as you remain seated silently on those steps.
You’re trespassing on private property, but he knows better than to openly acknowledge that. He has no clue if you know that fact or if you’re a threat. He’s playing with fire just by getting close to you like this, but somewhere in his heart he can tell you need something to bring you back to the present.
“Something on your mind?”
“Yes.” You answer faintly, your head bowing a little further as your hood covers more of your face. “I just miss what life used to be like, long ago. I could smile more. I was happy. But now, I am not. And I—”
“—Wish you could go back?” He asks. “Me too, sometimes. But unfortunately, we cannot turn back time.”
“You ‘too’?” You echo, your head lifting as you look at him in mild surprise; another tear rolls down your cheek and lingers at the end of your chin. “You know how I feel?”
“Of course,” He nods solemnly. “There are days I wish I could go back and change the past. Some nights I think to myself what could’ve been had I done something differently.”
“I’m surprised a human being is capable of understanding how I feel.” Your quiet voice murmurs. He doesn’t acknowledge the way you worded that. “What have you lost?”
“I’ve lost many people in my life. Some gone too soon, and others not. The pain doesn’t get any better, but I have learned to keep looking ahead. I can’t take care of the people in my life now if I spend my days dwelling on the past.”
“That’s very intelligent of you to say.” The words aren’t necessarily groundbreaking, but they are reminding. Reminding you that you need to learn to push forward, that there’s nothing more you can do. And it is what it is.
You feel somewhat better, for the first time in hundreds of years.
You pause, a tired, melancholic smile etching itself on your face as you lean in and look at him. You lift your hood enough so that your face is no longer covered. “You know, I really shouldn’t be here.”
“I am aware.” The older man comments offhandedly. Just as he ignored you calling him out as a “human,” you pretend not to hear that little remark of his.
“But, I’m glad I came here.” You continue. “You remind me so much of the others. I wish you could meet them.”
Just as you say that, you have an idea. Standing to your full height, you reach a hand down and pick him up, cradling the man to your shoulder. You pay no attention to his stunned gasp as you begin to walk to your destination.
Oh, the others will be so happy knowing you’ve made a new friend.
Hours pass, and the sun begins to set. The pink, purple, and orange colors paint across the sky as if it were a canvas, and the moon’s glow begins to shine faintly through the passing clouds.
A young man, with black hair and a tuft of white at the front looks at the others behind him, his eyebrow raised in confusion and his blue eyes squinting in disbelief.
“Where the hell’s Alfred?”
26 notes · View notes
astro-duck · 10 months
Text
DuckTales and Gravity Falls are almost the same show.
They both have:
A set of siblings born at the same time (twins/triplets)
Going to stay with their great uncle
Who seems really boring and old at first but is actually pretty cool, if slightly morally ambiguous, but mostly good.
The great uncle is reluctant to care about the kids at first, but by the end of the series is willing to sacrifice his life for them.
The great uncle loves money
The uncle also has a long lost relative, who he has spent a very long time searching for.
A book smart, hat wearing sibling, who carries around a red book with all the information they could possibly need. This sibling worships the book, and is devastated when they don’t have it.
An insane, hyperactive, adventure hungry sibling who is almost a complete idiot, but usually succeeds through sheer willpower and a little dumb luck.
(Alternately, instead of Dipper and Mabel filling in for Huey and Dewey, you could use Stanley and Stanford as Louie and Huey, because Stanley is a schemey little guy, but Stanford doesn’t fit Huey quite as well.)
An insane hyperactive girl with a group of two friends, one is a stoic nerd girl. (Lena and Grenda don’t line up)
A host of minor villains leading up to a final boss that is seemingly unbeatable.
A surface level idiot who grows to be a better fighter throughout the series. He has a presumably Hispanic background and lives in a house with a woman who is a mother figure to him, and they would do anything for each other.
A random moment that I distinctly remember where a character bangs on their head and it makes a metallic sound. They then say something about how they have a metal plate in their head/their bones are metal.
The final boss likes to possess people. They also appear in dreams sometimes.
A villainous rendition of the intro that plays in an episode(s) centered around them.
A multi-part finale, bringing an untimely end to a kid’s show that is really good. At least it didn’t drag on forever, ruining its own reputation.
Bonus! A voice actor from a show that is also great, but is probably going to/did drag in for too long, that was created by Dan Harmon. (Justin Roiland from Rick and Morty and Jim Rash from Community) Both were immediately recognizable because of their very distinct voices that I recognized from the thing they were in.
20 notes · View notes
lotus-pear · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i think you guys are onto smth..
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i unironically got invested in this HELP
#WHERES THE FIC AT IF SOMEONE WRITES THIS I WILL PAY THEM A HUNDRED DOLLARS😭😭#kunikida serving the country while dazai's serving cunt😔#dazai was born to malewife but forced to manipulate and i think that's the greatest tragedy of bsd#anyway some facts i would like to share abt this au thay i came up w while drawing!!#takes place in 1939 (start of wwii) and there was a mandatory draft that required one male over eighteen from each house to serve#both of them are still twenty two and had been engaged for abt two years before getting married that year#newlyweds! unfortunately kuni had to go fight and they were seperated :(#before the war kunikida was a math teacher at the local high school and dazai obviously managed the household and didn't work#he's hopeless at cooking and meal prep even w recipie books so they either get those prepackaged meals or kuni makes dinner when he gets ba#so like when he's making lunch for kunikida he normally just packs a basic sandwich w raw fruit#kunikida always appreciates the effort even tho hes probably sick of having the same thing everyday but he won't complain abt it#when kunikida joined the army he was relieved that the mess hall had better food than dazai#he was the only one in his platoon that never complained abt the food so his fellow soldiers assumed it was bc he came from a tough bg#when in reality he was just used to being poisoned on a daily basis from his dumbass husbands cooking and was hardly fazed from army ration#they write to each other although its more dazai sending and kuni receiving bc hes off fighting and doesnt have time to write back#dazai talks abt life on the homefront and how he has to grow a victory garden (everything is DYING HE CANT EVEN RAISE TOMATOES)#and kuni writes abt his fellow soldiers and how the war is going and when he thinks he'll be home and how he misses sleeping in a bed#ANYWAY yea thought i'd share sry for infodumping in the tags again#this post is for like the four ppl that care abt this specific flavor of knkdz so hopefully this gets four notes at least#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#lotus draws#bro sry for posting at two in the morning i couldnt sleep until i got this out of my head they have infested my brain
1K notes · View notes
pokimoko · 2 months
Note
Hi, I just saw your art of the snake and the pigeon with aromantic flags, and they look amazing! I thought that a pigeon done in the colours of the queerplatonic and/or oriented aroace flag would be adorable. Did you know that pigeons mate for life and often show affection to their partner by cuddling with each other and giving them light pecks around the neck and head? They also are apparently great parents, with both males and females taking care of the young, this load is shared almost equally between the sexes. Both parents build nests, sit on eggs, and lactate (well “pseudo-lactation” technically) to feed chicks. I just thought the idea of two pigeons in a qpr would be really cute.
Sorry for the ramble about pigeons, I just really like them.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Don't apologise, I love me some pigeon facts. And you're absolutely right, two pigeons in a QPR would be really cute.
81 notes · View notes
I truly wish I had any artistic talent just so I could lowkey redo all dramione fanart with Astoria because oh my god the ratio of dramione to drastoria fan content is so heartwrenchingly depressing
47 notes · View notes
timey-fandom-stuff · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[DOGSONG INTENSIFIES]
here's a few more Deltarune Monsterswap Kris doodles, and this time I'll toss a handful of related headcanons and tidbits below the cut!
- Kris's origins are unknown prior to Asriel finding them digging around in trash cans in front of the house when they were tiny; they seemed to have been living on their own for a while, eating anything they could get their paws on and avoiding strangers. they might not remember their time on the streets, but they still have a habit of eating weird things-- even when they're not really hungry. if you offer it to them they WILL eat it, that is both a promise and a threat.
- they initially didn't like to communicate outside of a variety of dog noises, and for the first couple years the Dreemurrs weren't actually sure if they could talk at all. they still tend to prefer growls, barks, and whines though, since many sounds used in everyday speech are a bit difficult for them to make and their paws lack the dexterity(and 1 finger) for some sign language. they can still talk though with a bit of effort, and may write out responses or spell in ASL if they're struggling too much with pronunciation. they struggle worse when frustrated or upset due to trying to speak through a growl.
- more of Kris's behaviors carry over from dogs and wolves than just their sounds and appearance; seeing if Susie's head can fit in their mouth once they're pals isn't just a goofy joke (though it's definitely a goofy joke on her part). it's actually their weird attempt at nibbling like a wolf-- a sign of affection and friendliness. nobody in Hometown actually knows enough about wolves to pick up on that, though, so they don't try it with anyone other than Susie since they know she won't panic. she just thinks it's the silliest thing ever.
- Kris is actually a monster loosely based on 'el cadejo,' a mythical dog spirit from Central America. whereas dark-furred cadejos are believed to be malevolent and dangerous beings, white-furred ones are seen as benevolent protectors and guides. their color palette swap between dark and light world references this; in the light world they have dark brown and tan fur with red eyes, but in the dark world they're white and silver-furred with blue eyes. notably, the dark cadejo is also associated with the devil-- paralleling Kris's devil horns they wore as a child. and likewise, their benevolent side is associated with angels, in line with the 'angel' that may or may not be the Player.
27 notes · View notes