#just the way they interact screams that they have been sharing a space together for decades which they have but GOD it makes me crazy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daryldicksuckon69 · 1 year

Text

Ride His Motorcyle (18+)

Pair: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Era: Alexandria Era (No particular season, Glenn, Abraham live and there's no Saviors)

Tags: Smut, Cowgirl Position, Rough Sex

Word Count: 4.22k

Summary: Daryl and Reader find themselves in tight quarters for hours on end and nothing came of it to the dismay of them both. Daryl grow balls and addresses the *situation* smut ensues.

Ride His Motorcycle By @daryldisuckon69

With the rise of the sun comes the trials the day brings. However, for the past few years, the challenge of living has been constant and ever present. The group had earned their place in Alexandria, fought for one another and the citizens of the naïve township.

It had been three years since you’d all arrived but everyone had seemed to find a role in the community well. Daryl had found it particularly difficult to assimilate, as did Sasha, with all the horrors and loss endured on the way, it seemed coming back wasn't an option.

You’d look at Maggie and Glenn at the farm, seeing their interactions and relationship develop to now being married and pregnant with admiration. With all this stability, members of the group in turn felt more inclined to settle down and build foundations. Now Rick and Michonne and Sasha and Abraham have been settling down, you were surrounded by happy people, people in love.

Sure, some days it you felt lonely, but it always seemed so trivial: finally having all this space to feel comfortable and happy, not always worrying where the next meal or bed would be, if there was any at all, complaining about not having a person; to vouch for you, to love you, to touch you and make you feel good.

You knew you could feel that with a certain brown-haired motorcyclist, but even with the whole town rooting for the pair of you, nothing ever came of it.

“Speaking of coming, how did you and Daryl go on this morning’s supply run?” Rosita asks, opening your communal kitchen’s shelves, taking a couple glasses and placing them on your makeshift bar.

Even with the amount of houses in Alexandria, you had decided to stay in the original house you share with Rosita and Tara. You all got along well and honestly, you couldn’t stand the idea of having a whole house to yourself.

“Ha-ha, we— uh, didn’t have any luck. Ran into an old chemist with like 12 walkers and no supplies.” You tap your nails on the benchtop, glancing upwards to meet Rosita’s knowing expression. We’ll be talking about this later, she had this way of knowing there was more in your words than you let on.

“Those two are adults! Please, think of the poor neighbours.” Carol shakes her head as she dries her hands at the sink, she and Sasha had made some pound cake for this friday’s festivities, Sasha had quickly ducked to her house to change thus, the immediate exclamations from the woman who previously dated her current boyfriend, Abraham.

“God forbid you pass their house at any off hour of the day, the two of ‘em screaming and panting,” Rosita sighs exaggeratedly, continuing to stir the drinks aggressively.

Every Friday you had happy hour in the kitchen, it was a nice way to keep track of the weeks while winding down from the days and nights endured in between; a reminder you were all alive and able to enjoy it now. Rosita snorted as she continued pouring the drinks while Tara takes a seat at the makeshift bar, raising hands in surrender; “Hey, I’m not complaining yet. Those two were a long time comin’.”

“Whose together?” Sasha arrives just in time, with a fresh shirt and a cheeky grin and a slight perspiration.

Carol smiles politely, stirring the drinks “I’m just happy the two of you are finally together together.”

“Real together these days huh.” You smirk knowingly, you and Sasha had shared your sex lives, her newly bountiful one and your lack of one, from sober watch duties to drunken kiss and tells often had on Friday nights, you began screwing the lid onto the whiskey.

Rosita slapped your arm playfully, giggling like a child who’d gotten away with something naughty.

“Hey, no use in being embarrassed now.” Tara points out, sipping her drink, eyeing Rosita knowingly.

“Yeah, you weren’t embarrassed at those times, aye.” Rosita elbows Tara, causing the two to giggle profusely.

“Stop that! Look at her, she’s beet red, poor dear.” Carol glares accusingly at the two, breaking their giggle. Not a moment after you all break into a fit of laughter. A knock at the door stops you all in your tracks, you all look at eachother meaningfully.

“Who could that be?” Tara sing-songs as Sasha raises her brow in suspicion.

“It can’t be Abraham, he’s at the house and,” Sasha pauses as the group breaks into knowing laughter,

“You’ve obviously ridden him out.” Carol finally joins in on the cheeky fun, sipping her drink with a slight blush on her face. Rosita and Tara hit each other playfully as they continued to laugh.

“Y/N? Ya there?” Daryl’s husky grunt emanated from the front door, making you all stop completely.

“No fucking way.” Sasha’s eyes are wide open as she sets her glass down. They’re all staring at you now, in complete awe.

“Congrats L/N, I didn’t know you had it in ya.” Tara pats your back supportively, making you fall forward slightly with her heavy hand.

“I knew you didn’t let on everything that happened this morning, but this isn’t what I was expecting.” Rosita glances at the others pointedly.

“I didn’t do anything, he’s probably just here to update about this morning’s supply run.” you point out, stirring your drink with your finger before downing in all in one go in an attempt to calm your beating heart.

“She really doesn’t see it?” Tara looks around the room, raising her hands in exasperation.

“How can you be so blind?” Sasha follows suit in the frustration. They were all aware of your infatuation and had been encouraging you since they’ve known you, but no matter, you’ve always been stubborn and naive to the works of love.

“What the hell are you guys on about?” You scoff unconvincingly, you knew they knew and you couldn’t admit it to yourself. Admitting your feelings to yourself, let alone him, would hurt you more; you feel you couldn’t allow yourself to fall even further into this relaxed state of feeling. If you let your guard down, you could lose him. Which was such a ridiculous statement, since Daryl was the one who taught you most of what you know to survive; hunting and long range combat. No matter, it seems anyone who gets close to you dies or leaves: all except him.

“The man’s in love with you.” Carol says pointedly, looking at you knowingly. She, out of them all, has known you as long as Daryl has, who has known this secret that’s been burning a hole in your pocket since the beginning. She wouldn’t lie, not to you: not about this.

You snort in disbelief, there’s no way that Daryl Dixon, the man that would sacrifice anything for any member of the group, and has never shown interest in anybody platonically, let alone romantically, would have feelings for you of all people.

“How can someone be so smart yet so stupid!” Tara smacks her hands against her face frustratedly.

“You help Michonne with making up laws and charters for the communities: facts. And yet you can’t see the fact right in front of your face.” Carol explains, setting her glass down and staring at you with that look; the look you all know: the look of pure transparency.

“Which is?”

“Dixon wants you.” Rosita finishes, pouring more whiskey into her glass.

“I go on supply runs with him all the time and he never comes to check up on me afterward,” Tara adds, your brown furrow in thought.

“He also personally brings you food and water on your guard duty days.” Sasha mentions, glancing at Tara in solidarity.

“The lights are on, who is in there?” Daryl’s voice echoes throughout the house, shaking you from your trance.

“Well, if you’re not going to open the door,” Rosita smirks and pauses before leaping up from the bar and breaking into a sprint for the front door. You react slowly, sprinting after her frantically.

“Fuck you, wait!” Before you can say any more, Rosita has already opened the door to a dishevelled looking Daryl.

“Good Evening Dixon,” Rosita smiles politely, head leaning on the door.

“Hey Rosita, is Y/N home?”

“Hey Daryl”

“Oh.” Oh.

Daryl steals a glance down at you, taking in your striped sleeping shorts hiked a little higher than comfortable from sitting down. Your hair is slightly messy, in a cute way, he thinks, as you have trouble making eye contact with his piercing blue eyes, those eyes you know more than the average group member, but are crying out to know more.

“C’we talk?” he grunts, “In priv’te, if thas' alright,.” clearing his throat nervously.

“Sure, just give me a sec, I’ll catch up.” he nods, smiling shyly at Rosita as he tucked his hands behind him, walking down the road.

As you wait for Daryl to be a safe distance away, you say your goodbyes.

“Ride him like a motorcycle!” Rosita half whispers, half screams grinning as Tara and Sasha whoop from the end of the hall. You shush them impatiently, embarrassed you then shut the door and make your way to Daryl’s side.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you fidget, following two or so steps behind him, being even this close to him set your heart on fire, as well as other, nether, regions.

“This mornin’,” Daryl practically spits out, quickening his pace, you follow suit.

“Is that all? Well you could’ve given me an update back there, why bring me all the way out to,” you pause and take in your surroundings.

A Few Hours Earlier

“Hey Dayl! Look over there!” Daryl’s head shoots up to look at whatever you were pointing at, an old shop across the road with the word ‘Helen’s Apothecary’ written on it. He doesn’t respond, blankly staring at the building.

“An old apothecary,” you point out obviously, staring at him pointedly.

Daryl looked at you incredulously.

You sigh, “Old herbs and meds, probably untouched,” you squint through the Georgian heat of July, from what you could see from your distance, there seemed to be no walkers inside or out.

“I’m gonna go ahead and check it out,” you hop off the counter your were sitting on, sneaking an indulgent glance at Daryl’s biceps as he ploughs through the limited items on the supermarket shelves.

You didn’t know it but he could see you so obviously checking him out, he was almost proud of himself, if not for the detail that he wasn’t yours to check out.

You and him weren’t even on track to being a couple, maybe a couple of friends, but nothing even remotely similar to the fantasies Daryl’s brain has been conjuring nonstop since the day he met you, seemingly worsening the more the pair of you spend time together.

He was almost grateful for the distance, but your gaze was sweltering and he could feel the tent in his pants already warming up. He coughs awkwardly, adjusting himself in his pants as he uses his red rag to cover his predicament.

“‘M comin’,” Daryl says simply, slinging his crossbow around his back.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself,” you say pointedly, shrugging your shoulders,

“I wan’ to,” he grunts as he begins to make his way over to the store, and you jog to catch up with him.

"'Sides, if there's really as much as ya let on in 'ere, you'll need all the help ya can get,"

He’s knelt down, about to open the door when he feels your gaze on him, he turns slowly to you, arms crossed.

“Found this place fair and square Dixon, shove over,” you kneel down and shuffle over until you’re shoulder to shoulder with him, he feels his cheeks warming up and before you can notice, he stands up; turning around to keep duty.

“Whatever you say, L/N.” he mumbles, handing over the pick lock.

You snort, taking them in your hands as you attempt to break the chain, with each manoeuvre it seems you’ve barely made any progress. Frustrated, you take the hammer from your belt,

“Fuck it,” you grunt, smashing the glass door near the handle, unlocking it from the inside.

“What, the fuck is wrong with you.” Daryl says, a smile threatening to break at your situation.

“I got it open, didn’t I?” you raise a brow, smiling. You put your hammer back in your belt and turn your flashlight on, he follows suit, taking his crossbow off his back, holding it up in defence.

You take in your surroundings, the place is absolutely chock-a-block full of supplies. You gasp at your discovery, “You seein’ this?” you laugh, grinning like an idiot as you run through each isle in absolute awe. This will save so many lives.

“Well, shit. Not bad L/N,” Daryl allows himself to crack a small smile, gazing at your overjoyed figure running through the store.

“I think we’re gonna need bigger bags to fit all of this,” before you can continue, an arrow flies past your head, you turn in shock to find a dead walker at your feet. You sigh, “Thanks Dary—,” Daryl’s hand is covering your mouth, he’s so close to you, he pushes you against the wall and points to the front windows, you see a car full of men, large military grade weapons and frightening looks on their faces, before you can even react he takes his other hand and places his index finger on his lips, as he looks around for a way out, his heart is beating out of his chest.

He knew he shouldn’t have taken that shortcut you suggested on the way here, people must’ve heard the loud thrum of his motorcycle. He brought you out here just to see you die, it seems.

Finally spotting a door towards the back of the store, he guides you to it. Ushering you in and shutting the door behind him. As he turns around to meet your eyes, wide and terrified.

“What the fuck do we do?” Only then does Daryl notice the lack of space in this room. With the surrounding walls covered in cleaning shelves, you are forced to almost be pressed against one another. If he breathed hard enough, he reckons his chest would meet yours. He scrunches his eyes in frustration.

“My bike is out there in the bushes hidden, if they’re as stupid as they look, we’ll be safe.” he assures, hands held together.

“For now.” you sigh, looking anywhere but at him, which proved difficult as your neck was craning in this tight space.

“Jus’ gotta hole up here until they leave,” he whispers, adjusting his posture; however long it took, it was gonna be excruciating.

“Wherever it is we’re going.” Daryl grunts in response, you continue to follow him down the Alexandrian streets, absolutely oblivious and wishing you brought your glass with you.

“Jus’, follow me.” he sounds frustrated, more frustrated than usual you acknowledge. His hands are rigid fists at his side, knuckles turning white as he continues to trudge down the street, turning another corner; you know where you’re headed.

You reach Carol and Daryl’s house as Daryl opens the front door, not bothering to hold it open like he usually does, he opens the basement door and trudges downstairs in a huff. You’re practically sprinting after him at this point.

Once you reach his room he makes a beeline for his workbench, slamming his hands onto it with a loud thud. You jump, suddenly terrified.

“What the fuck Daryl?” you shout, squaring your shoulders. There’s no way he’s going to drag you across half the town just to get mad at you, no way in hell you’re letting that happen.

More silence follows, you stand there, not knowing what to do, then you sigh;

“Can you just tell me what’s going on? I feel like I’m going crazy.” you say, evenly. A moment passes before he slowly turns to face you, his eyes never meet yours.

“Sorry,” he starts, eyes darting around the room, looking for anything more interesting to look at, but there isn’t.

“I jus’, don’ know if I can handle this anymore,” your brows soften, taking a few steps towards him in concern, he cowers away almost immediately.

“Handle what?” you impatiently blurt, hands on your hips.

“You don’ get it do ya?” he rasps, eyes suddenly meeting yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

“If you tell me what’s the matter, I might be able to help you!” you cry, attempting to meet his avoidance eyes.

“Help me? You couldn’t even help yerself this mornin’!” He yells, pointing to the general direction of this morning's scavenge.

“And how would you know what’s best for me huh?”

That seemed to strike a nerve, his whole body seemed to tense at the question. He shifts awkwardly, when he looks back at you he glances at your eyes before fixing his gaze at the trees behind you.

“Trust me girl, I know,”

“Aww you’re just such a good guy, takin’ care of me like I'm your little sister! Guess what Daryl, I’m not.” You lean forward and straighten yourself up as best you can, chest heaving in frustration.

“What ya see me as yer older brother?” Daryl dares to take a step forward, lighting this candle, you don’t reply. Looking back to when you first met one another, you knew that you could never see him in the way you so desperately hoped for.

Daryl grunts, “Thought so,”

“Excuse me?” your brows furrow in frustration, crossing your arms around yourself in exasperation.

What you don’t realise is Daryl’s sorry attempt in not looking at your now pushed-out breasts in your particularly low-cut top. Daryl glares at you obviously.

“What happened this morning—”

“Should’ve happened long ago.” your breath catches in your throat, you can’t believe your ears.

“Why would you say that?” you question, carefully: the situation seeming a lot more delicate than previously realised.

“I would’a known,” he looks away, brows furrowed, “would’a realised it.” Daryl rambles, gaze stuck on the floor.

“Would’ve realised what, Daryl?”

“‘ave been fuckin’ stupid since the start,” He spits, pacing back and forth. You stand there, looking particularly stupid.

“We were fuckin’ stuck: pressed up against each other all morning, and yer tellin’ me ya don’ get it!?” he yells, pausing to compose himself.

“‘Fore it was all muddled, if I—” he paused for a beat and stared down at you, but before you could comment, his hands were on your shoulders, pushing you into the wall, pressing his body against yours; you could feel his hands shake.

“I’m sweet on ya,” Daryl doesn’t break eye contact, his body flush against yours. You can feel each other's heavy, shallow breathing: chest to chest, heart to heart. Just the same as this morning. You almost lean into him, you feel safe in his warmth.

“Ya got anything to say about that?”

“I—” you begin, your throat caught in your throat, you can’t think of what to say.

“I can’t,”

“Ya can,”

“Daryl, I really can’t,”

“Say it again,”

“Sorry?”

“The part where you say my name,” you pause, staring into his eyes, his beautiful, crystal blue eyes and you know in this moment, you can no longer hide your affections.

“Say it again, Y/N, please,”

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily, afraid of the reaction you’ll get, you feel Daryl's large hand envelop your own, squeezing it encouragingly.

“Daryl.” you breathe, feeling all the nerves shot up like lightning at the sound of your voice, breathy and flustered. You feel like you’ve left your body, simply witnessing the event taking place.

“Now say it.”

“You know I can’t Daryl.”

“I don’t want to hurt our relationship, I— I can’t: I don’t want you to not talk to me again.”

“You know that’ll never happen, Y/N.”

With deep breaths, you try to calm down. But the proximity of Daryl and his intense gaze aren’t helping things.

“Jus’ tell me ya got something on ya mind— so we can stop dancin’ ‘round what’s goin’ on ‘ere.” he rasps, continuing to stare at you.

“I—I,”

“It’s okay, darlin’.”

It didn’t feel okay, especially as you said the words, those words you kept in your heart, to yourself, didn’t even let Rosita or Carol know, the words you didn’t want to accept were how you feel; but say you do.

“I love you, Daryl.”

A beat, you close your eyes as time seems to stop. You feel your heart beating from your chest, and the occasional tremble of your breathing.

Before you can elaborate, Daryl closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours roughly. You reciprocate, pressing yourself against him, he continues to kiss your lips, your cheek, down your jaw and your neck.

“Yer,” he kisses your lips, “As stubborn,” he kisses his way down your cheek, “As,” he continues pressing kisses down your jaw as you lean into him, mouth open in ecstasy, “A Mule,” he kisses your mouth again, hands on your hips as he presses himself against you. You break the kiss, and breathily reply.

“As stubborn as you.” you moan into another kiss, placing a hand in his hair as he grabs onto your ass.

“Been wanting to say it to you since the beginning—God have I been this naive for so long?”

“Jus’ shut up.” he breathes, kneading your ass as he sucks on your neck, spurred on by your moans.

His arm drops down to your leg, hoisting it up and wrapping it against his hips, he begins to grind into your core as you attempt to match his rhythm; the friction making it hard to hold back your voice.

He licks the mark he left on you before sliding his tongue inside your mouth, open mouth and moaning as you feel your breath catching and pushing him off you before you get carried away.

The pair of you stare at each other, flustered and breathing heavily.

“You alright? Wanna stop?” Daryl inquires, chest still heaving. You grab a hold of his forearms, rubbing them up and down.

“God no.” you gasp,

“Good,” he grunts, he lifts his shirt up.

“You let me know, if ya wanna stop.”

Still breathing heavily, you lean into his touch, holding onto his large bicep as he devours your neck, leaving love marks in his tow, he guides you back onto his bed as you shuffle up the bed, Daryl on top of you.

"I'm gonna make sure everyone knows who's claimed ya," Daryl grunts between licking and sucking your neck, one hand on your hip and the other at your jaw, gently guiding your neck as he tries to suck deeper in your neck.

Pulling away you take your shirt off with the help of Daryl, you lie down, lifting your pelvis up and he slides your shirts off, you look down to your clearly soaked panties, taking a deep breath as he rubs his chin.

“Fuck,” you smile up at him, you hook your leg around his and with all your body weight on him, you tun him on his back, straddling him.

Daryl holds you up as you rub your pussy along the length of his cock, coating him with your slick, you wish you could drag this out longer but you’re so turned on the only thought crossing your mind is feeling Daryl inside of you. He stays still as you position yourself on top of him and closes his eyes with a deep groan when you slowly sick down on his cock.

His sheer size almost sends you over the edge, pausing for a moment you stay still. Daryl runs his hands up your legs and sides, and over your stomach. Your skin prickles with the heat simply from his touch, your nipples hardening. His large hands cup your breasts and that’s that.

“‘M gonna take good care of ya, sunshine,” he smirks up at you, that cheeky boyish charm seeping through.

Driving yourself up and down on him, Daryl’s cock in and out of you rough. You can’t look away, the look of greed and desire in Daryl’s face takes your breath away.

You lean forward, letting him lean in and hungrily take your breasts in his mouth, the way he sucks and licks at you, Daryl drives you so wild you ride him harder than you would any of the motorcycles his hand over the years, his girth filling you, driving you over the edge; leaning back your mouth hangs open, his name tumbling over your lips.

He’s holding onto your hips now, pushing up into you with short, hard thrusts while your muscles tense and clench around him, he massages your clit in between frenzied thrusts. Daryl quickly pulls out of you, causing you pair to gasp at the feeling, moaning as he paints his stomach with his spend.

You collapse on top of him, exhausted, hair damp with perspiration, he begins stroking your hair while leaving tender kisses on top of your head.

“You held your end of the bargain,”

You lift your head to look him in the eye, “Rode me like a cowboy more like it, though.” he grins, completely satisfied.

“Shut up.” you can’t help but smile at that.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun making it, comments and feedback is much appreciated.

My requests are OPEN! DM, Ask, Comment. I'm active as shit I'll see it and try my best to get to you <3

My AO3

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead

2K notes · View notes

theyhavetakenovermylife · 3 months

Note

You know how small children, especially toddlers who just started walking and talking could be, so I'm curious how the turtles would handle their oldest kidd at this age especially since they never got to interact and take care of kids before this. From my personal experience, toddlers can be either innocent and cute little angels or annoying devils who bother everyone in public if they don't get what they want

First Steps or Words (Fluff)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’m not fully sure what you mean with toddlers just having learned to walk and talk, as kids typically take their first step or say their first word during the infant stage, but it could very well be my limited English that is getting in the way here😅 Anyway, in my internship I work with kids in the age group of 3 - 5, so I agree and disagree. Kids have a limited knowledge, both of themselves and their surroundings. Oftentimes they don’t think of how their actions can affect others, which is then my job to help them understand, and at the same time help them verbalize their emotions in a better way. But boy, sometimes the last thing you need is 4 year old that’s crying over something so simple as a toy, even though to them it's their whole world at that moment😭 Enough of that, time for some cute stuff💙❤️💜🧡

Warnings: I already had baby fever before this, so I don’t know if you guys will get it too😭💚

Leonardo:

Never had Leo thought he would get to experience something like this. You and him in your shared bedroom, relaxing after a long day of working, with little baby Romeo smiling and giggling in the bed, kicking around in his little onesie. Your son had been a giggling delight all day, making all sorts of sounds from his play pen, almost distracting you, Leo and the first of the turtles in your work, building to extend the lair so that there would be space for your growing family.

Recently, Romeo had learned of a new sound to make, showing it off proudly with or without a crowd to watch or hear him. Pressing his lips together with his tongue poking out, Romeo would blow out air, creating what sounded like a fart noise, with bubbles of spit forming where the air came out.

This was nothing new to you, having seen many human babies do things like that, either on the internet or in real life. You didn’t find it any less cute however, you had just known that Romeo would start doing it at some point. Leo however, was totally mesmerized. He had never seen nor heard a baby make noises like that, even though he watched hundreds of baby videos after the day he learned you were pregnant. But nothing prepared Leo for how fast it was going. In less than a year, Romeo had gotten from this little emobile green bean with big staring eyes, to this little bundle of loud noises and kicking limbs. Leo’s heart swelled, and as he watched Romeo kick around on your shared bed as you and Leo was cleaning up for the night, Leo couldn’t stop himself from hovering over your son, nuzzling his beak against his little stomach, causing the young boy to let out a high pitch scream of laughter. Leo lifted his head from Romeo’s stomach, looking down at his smiling son as he pressed his lips together around his tongue, kicking his legs as he made the noise he had been making for the last few days.

“Bbrrrrrrr”, Romeo let out, small bubbles forming around his mouth, making it impossible for Leo not to smile.

“Bbbrrrrrrrr”, Leo said back to your son, the small child laughing at his mimicking, reaching out for him, his small hands touching Leo’s face.

“Is daddy being silly?”, you asked in a baby voice, smiling with a chuckle as Romeo continued his small sounds, only for Leo to say them back to him. Romeo let out a high pitched shriek with a big smile, holding on to Leo’s face as his bright small eyes started at him. You wouldn’t help but smile as you watched the two of them, feeling warm throughout your body. It was wonderful to see Leo be so calm and loose around his child. He was truly at peace. “I think daddy’s being silly”, you teased, causing Leo to poke his tongue out at you as Romeo rambled on.

“No, daddy is having fun”, he said, turning his attention back towards the rambling Romeo.

“Brrrr, ba, babababa, dadadadada”.

You and Leo stared at each other in shock. Did you hear right? Did Romeo just say what you thought he said? All of your questions were soon answered when Romeo reached out for Leo once more, continuing his newly learned word.

“Dadadada”.

“That’s right!”, Leo exclaimed, picking up the happily screaming Romeo. “I’m dada! I’m your dada! Did you hear that mama?! He said dada!”

Raphael:

There was nothing more entertaining than watching Joan crawl around the floor, trying to get from one place to another, closely following behind either you or Raph as you walked around the lair. With her small arms and legs and what you could only describe as a happy battle cry, she tried to keep you the best she could, soon gaining very strong leg muscles that could push her around the floor with ease. It was just a matter of time before she would start walking, and Raph was more than ready for that.

Everyday, Raph watched Joan intently, waiting for the moment she would start walking around on her small legs. He was fully intended to see her first steps, especially after having heard Leo complain more than once that he wasn’t home to watch his own son’s first steps. Raph wouldn’t make the same mistake. He would be there with a front row view when his first born started walking. But so far, she had only been crawling or sitting on her but, screaming loudly before following people around.

But Raph never once gave up hope, continuing to watch Joan each and every day, for the moment she would start carrying herself around on only two limbs. Which was one of the many reasons why he now sat on your shared bedroom floor on Joan’s playmate, with the young child between his legs, hoping that she would support herself on him and start walking. You sat on the bed, watching them with a smile, feeling your heart swell as Raph baby talked with your daughter.

You could have stayed there and watched them for hours, had your parents not called, asking about the next time they could come and visit you and Raph, and see their adorable little granddaughter. Therefore you stood up with your mother on the phone, heading towards the living area, in order to hear the other turtles and their partners, if they were okay with your parents coming over that following weekend.

And just like any other time, when either you or Raph stood up around little Joan, she looked in your direction, let out a high pitch sound before following you, supporting herself on Raph’s legs. Raph held his breath, waiting for the moment Joan would let go, and follow without anything supporting her. But as soon as she let go of Raph, she fell to her knees and started crawling for the door.

Raph chuckled, only slightly disappointed that Joan didn’t walk, but highly amused by her determination. “Don’t worry sweetpea”, he said. “Mommy will be back in just a moment”.

Joan sat back on her butt, looking at Raph for a moment with her fingers in her mouth, before she let out another sound, crawling back towards him. Or that was what Raph thought she was going to do. As she placed her hands on the ground, just like she usually did when she crawled, she did not start to move forward. Instead she used them to push herself off the ground, before wopling on her own two feet.

Raph let out the biggest shriek you had never heard, making you stop and turn in the living area, your mother still on the phone. Flailing around on the ground with his arms open, as if to tell her to come to him, Raph called out for you. “Babe! She’s walking! (Y/N)! She’s walking!”

You almost fell back into the room at the sound of Raph’s shriek, almost forgetting about your mother on the phone, not hearing her concerned questions, fearing that the roof was falling down on top of Raph and Joan. So did you for a moment, not registering the words Raph had yelled, but the sight of Joan taking small hesitant steps towards Raph was almost enough to make you fall to your knees with your arms open as well.

“Mom!”, you yelled into the phone, turning on the camera so she could follow along. “She’s walking! Joan’s walking!”, you continued to yell, capturing the moment Joan walked straight into Raph’s arms with a bright smile.

Donatello:

Have you ever seen a baby get mad, when they can’t do the things people around them can? Well, that was Galileo when it came to walking. Watching his parents, uncles, ants, grandparents and cousins walk, while he was stuck on the floor was enough to make him angry, supporting himself on everything, trying his best to walk on his own. But it was the same story every time. As soon as Gali let go of whatever he was holding onto, he fell to the ground with a sad and angry expression. He wanted to walk!

You and Donnie did your best, lending him a helping hand whenever he wanted to walk, feeling pure happiness when you saw the big smile upon his face and heard his loud happy noises. But there were times where you couldn’t help him, or walk him in circles around the living area for hours. But Gali wanted that. He wanted to walk so bad, almost to the point where he got hysterical when he was tired. So you and Donnie did what you could do and helped him practice, enjoying his laughter and smile and how it brightened your world up.

One day, you and Donnie found yourselves sitting in the middle of the living area, sitting on the floor in front of each other with your legs out scratched. You held Gali’s hands in yours, his infectious laughter making both you and Donnie break out in bright smiles as you watched your son stand on his wobbly legs, holding onto you in order to stay up.

“Come on, Gali”, you said, fighting not to break into another fit of laughter. “Go over to daddy”.

You slowly guided Gali forward with the help of your arms, Gali laughing all the way, even as Donnie took his hands from yours, helping him all the way into his embrace.

“Hey, big boy!”, Donnie smiled, causing Gali to throw his head back in further laughter. It was adorable. Donnie held Gali close in a hug, looking at his hysterically laughing son, taking off his own glasses in order to rub his eyes, that had glossed over in tears due to his own laughter. “I’ll never get enough of this!”

“Imagine how much he will laugh when he can walk on his own”, you said, massaging your cheeks as they started to hurt from all that laughing.

“I can’t wait to find out”, Donnie said, turning Gali back towards you, holding him by the sides. Still smiling wide, Gali looked back over his shoulder, smiling at Donnie, a little bit of drool running from the side of his mouth. “Go to mommy, Gali. It’s mommy’s turn”.

Gali started laughing again, his legs giving out under him, letting him fall down into Donnie’s lap. However Gali kept laughing, causing Donnie to hide his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking from his own chuckles.

Gali stopped laughing, and grabbed onto Donnie’s arm, pulling himself up on his feet. Donnie quickly recovered, ready to hold on to his son once more, only to find that Gali had already taken a few steps away from him, still holding onto his arm. And then Gali let go. Both you and Donnie expected him to fall to the ground, followed by loud crying, but that did not happen. Instead Gali continued to walk towards you, laughing and screaming happily as he did so, before almost falling into your arms, you and Donnie staring at each other in shock.

“Gali’s walking!”, Donnie exclaimed, as if he did not fully believe it.

“He is”, you said, letting go of your young son, only for him to walk back to Donnie with more happy screaming.

“You’re walking!”, Donnie yelled excitedly, lifting Gali up for a bear hug, the young boy screaming and laughing all the way.

Michelangelo:

Nothing could beat mornings like this. You and Mikey in the kitchen with Sunny in her high chair, eating alone together before the rest of the family woke up. Who would have thought that you and Mikey ever would become morning people? Well, neither you nor Mikey, but then you gave birth to a daughter that tended to rise with the sun every day, and there was nothing that would make her go back to sleep. But both of you had to admit it was nice, sitting just you three in the kitchen, engaging Sunny in small conversation, her small sounds and her finger that kept pointing everywhere with curiosity, without the rest of the family around. It wasn’t because you didn’t want the others around, no not all, but because when Mikey’s brothers and their partners woke up, then so did their toddlers. And as much as you loved your nephews and niece, it was nice with some time only for your little family, enjoying your early breakfast together.

Once all of you had finished eating, you would stay in the kitchen for a moment, waiting for the rest of the lair to wake up. During those moments, Mikey tended to take Sunny out of her highchair and set her on his lap, letting her play with his hands, the tails of his bandana, or whatever caught her wandering attention that morning. And today it was his thumb, her small fingers holding onto it as she made all the sounds she could think of.

“Mmmmm”, Sunny hummed, her small hands grabbing onto Mikey’s thumb, before putting it into her mouth with a small grin. “Mmmmmm”.

“Do you think she’s about to say her first word?”, Mikey asked, wiggling his thumb a little, making Sunny giggle. “I think she’ll say her first word today”.

“Yesterday you thought she was going to say her first word”, you smiled, chuckling at the drool that dripped from her mouth.

“Mmmmmm”, she continued, her bright blue eyes looking up at her father.

“What’s that?”, he asked, bouncing his leg slightly, making her giggle once again. “Are you about to say mommy?”

You rolled your eyes. For the past few weeks, Mikey had tried and tried his best, wanting Sunny’s first words to be your parental title. And why exactly? Well, because Mikey thought you deserved it. You gave birth to her, so at least her first words could be mommy.

“Mikey, she isn’t going to say mommy”, you said with a smile, shaking your head at your husband.

“Bet”, Mikey said, lifting Sunny up so that she was standing on his thigh with both his hands under her arms. “Come on, Sunshine, say mommy”.

“Mmmmmm”.

“Mikey”, you said in a teasing warning.

“Mmmmmm”, Sunny continued.

“Nono babe, she almost got it”, he said, his eyes never leaving her small face. “Come on, Sunny, say mommy. I know you can do it”.

“Mmmmm”, she said one more time, and then, suddenly. “Mikey!”

Mikey stared at Sunny in confusion while you broke out in laughter, Sunny giggling in the way she always did.

“No, no, Sunshine”, Mikey said with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’m daddy, not Mikey”.

“Mikey!”, she said with a big and bright smile, giggling even more at his confused expression. This was definitely not what he had expected, nor did he fully know how to react. But for a long time afterwards, no one was allowed to call him Mikey, until Sunny started calling him daddy.

197 notes · View notes

henry-fox-biggest-stan · 11 months

Text

Okay so I need people are who are diagnosed as autistic to help me out here

I been suspecting for a long time (like around a year, maybe more idk) than I might be autistic, and I did research (genuinely, not just taking some Internet quiz and self-diagnosing based on it) and I want to know if there’s a genuine chance I might be autistic, or if I have a wrong view on autism (basically, if I’m wrong about it and what it means to be autistic).

Some things than happen to me than I’ve seen also happen to a big amount of autistic people

-Problems with food since very little. Not based on taste, but texture. Eating something with the wrong texture is just horrible.

-Always felt different from my peers, never quite fitting in because I didn’t know how to interact with them. As if they knew exactly what to do and I was just flying blind. I heard people say than they felt as if everyone was born with a book of rules, meanwhile they had to learn from watching everyone else already know them, and I think that’s the best way for me to explain it.

-Intense interests on stuff, really intense. Like, is all I can think about day and night, I relate everything to it in some way or another, I know everything about it down to the smallest detail, some might call me obsessed and I wouldn’t deny it. Reminds me of the way people with autism describe their hiperfixations.

-People thought I was “gifted” as a kid, and said than I was a kid with the mind of an adult. I’m no genius, I was just interested on different stuff than other kids. I was the first one to learn to read and I never stopped. I basically lived in the library as a kid. I have a vivid memory of when I must have been like 10 and saying than my favorite thing in the world was reading and some friends looking at me like I was crazy. I’m mentioning this not because people who are autistic are “gifted”, but more because I heard they are usually interested in different stuff than their peers (doesn’t have to be more mature, it can be more immature stuff too, I think. Goes hand in hand with feeling different from everyone). Continuing on books, I also always had a higher reading level than the rest of my class. I was “a pleasure to have in class but should speak out more” kid.

-Looking back they were obviously bullying me, but I thought than they were laughing with me, not at me.

-I can’t hear the tone of my voice?? For some reason?? Sometimes I speak too loudly or too quietly or my mom says I’m being rude for “talking back” but in my head my voice is the same level and uses the same tone. So if I’m ever rude I probably don’t notice (I hate being rude to people).

-I read about overstimulation and under stimulation and it perfectly described the way I feel a lot of time. Specially overstimulation.

-If talking about something I really enjoy (hiperfixations?) I can’t be still. I’ll probably smile and fidget with something and the mere mention of it or anything regarding it outside of online spaces makes me want to scream out of excitement. Like, a really abnormal reaction to it, I believe.

-I prefer to be home on my own than outside (specially if there’s lots of people around). I don’t know if it’s hard for me to see how people are feelings, given than I learnt to notice when people don’t want me somewhere (eventually you get used to it) but sometimes when people are being nice to me I’m completely unable to see if they’re being genuine or not. An example, I was forced to spend a week sharing a room with this pair of really popular girls because of a school trip, and they were nice to me, starting conversations and stuff. So because they seemed nice, I thought they were nice. But at the end of the week I approached them and they gave me the dirtiest look and I realize they weren’t actually being genuine, they were just kind of being forced to be nice to me.

-I hate changes of routine, everyday I have the same routine and if someone wants it to change (go somewhere and do something together) they have to tell me at least a day in advance. Unless I really like them, I will feel uneasy to change my routine because it makes me feel as if I was messing everything up.

-I don’t know if it has anything to do with this, but I’m adding it just in case. I hated physical touch as a kid. Up until some years ago, I couldn’t stand it. Also don’t know if it’s related, but I always had trouble sleeping, I heard that might be a symptom but I don’t know.

-I went to a speech therapist as a kid because I couldn’t pronounce the letter s and I pronounced it as z, sometimes it still comes out. I heard problems in speech might be related but I doubt it, just adding just in case.

-I have a big sense of justice. For example everyone in my class cheats on their exams (they don’t even hide it, is more, they brag about it), and that has always upset me. Not because they can copy while I actually study, but because cheating is wrong. That’s not how it works. Why are they breaking the rules. Or for example they bring their phones to school (not nearly as bad as cheating) which is forbidden, and I don’t understand why they do that. It’s forbidden, so why?

-I notice patterns in almost everything, I also focus more on the little details than the big picture, which leads to both overthinking but also better results.

-I need people to speak to me separately. Having a conversation with two people at the same time feels like a nightmare.

-I need people to tell me things, if they want me to do them. If you made something for me to eat, don’t just put it on the table, tell me it’s for me. Otherwise I won’t touch it out of fear it’s not mine. When given instructions, I need them to be clear and detailed. All people my age are doing stuff like going to parties, drinking alcohol, meanwhile I never think of doing it and also, never knew I could do it? When did the change between going to the park to hang out without our parents for the first time and going to a party with alcohol around lots of strangers happened? Why did no one told me? How does everyone just know when to change and grow up? Why don’t I?

-Something I also noticed is than every fictional character I related to had various autism symptoms (said by people on the fandoms who are actually autistic).

#autistic spectrum #autism #autistic women #???#mental health

425 notes · View notes

genderlessghoul · 8 months

Text

A bit of Phantom headcanon with a side of Dew angst at the end.

Phantom was never meant to be Aether's replacement. He knew the rhythm guitar parts, yes, but that was required of him as a Quintessence ghoul living at the Ministry. He also knew drums, as expected of him for being part Earth ghoul.

He was originally only summoned to help around the Ministry when Copia first started touring in 2018. Quite a few new ghouls were summoned back then to make up for the 7 ghouls the Cardinal decided to take on the road with him. Such a large number made a big gap in the ghoul staff, not to mention all the ghouls who decided to go back to the Pit after the little... Accident... With the 3 previous Papas.

Ghouls are very loyal creatures after all and did not take kindly to the news of their favourite humans' departure from the mortal realm.

So Phantom learned his part, doing the tasks expected of him around the gardens and the infirmary, spending his free time with a guitar in his hand or sitting behind a drum kit. And he'd wait for the touring ghouls to come back. They'd be back with trinkets from various countries as gifts for their friends and lovers, and of course a thousand tales from the road.

Phantom could spend hours listening to Dewdrop talking about his and Aether's antics on stage, about the adrenaline rush, about the screams and adorations from the fans, the precious gift that were made for them. He'd watch the way all of them came back closer to each other than when they left. He loved them all but it's oh so hard to carve yourself a place when all the touring ghouls have been so tightly knit together by their adventures.

He longed for the stage, for the attention and adoration of the crowd, for the chance to see the world and serve his Lord in such a special way. But more than anything he longed for that bond shared between all of them.

It wasn't the same at the Ministry. Yes he had ghouls he cared for but they would barely speak in a day, all too busy with the chores appointed to them. And they would spend most of their free times alone in their room, trying to relax in whichever way they could.

His heartbreak only grew stronger when Sunshine, one of the ghoulettes who was summoned around the same time as him, got to join the band. Because they were able to make extra space for another hell creature but it wasn't him. He desperately craved to be a part of the band and he knew he could never share those feelings because that would be asking for Mountain or Aether to leave and he simply wouldn't do it. Could never do it.

Aether's always been very intuitive about other people's feelings. It's a blessing and sometimes curse that comes with his elemental affiliation. He sees the way the small ghoul looks up in awe at him and his pack. The way he's hung on their words when they tell him stories. He can almost hear the other ghoul's heart ripping when he watches his mates interacting in the closest ways.

Aether's the one who goes to Imperator and asks her to take him out of the Ghost project. Touring is fun and all but he's not getting any younger and those bus bunks, sleepless nights and rough mornings are really starting to take a toll on his old bones. Maybe she could find him a place in the infirmary? He's even willing to just sit around and do taxes all day. Surely they would have no hard time replacing him, they already have this Phantom guy who knows his part. Oh and if it could stay a secret between them, he doesn't want his mates to worry about him.

Phantom is both ecstatic and terrified at the news, what if he's not good enough? What if his bandmates hate him? What if the fans hate him? What if he disappoints Papa? All of his cares melt away the second he first step into the band practice room. Everyone there is so warm and welcoming, even Aether is there to show him a thing or two. He looks very happy for someone who's just been replaced and has to teach the guy taking his place.

Everyone welcomes him except Dewdrop. Dewdrop never liked change. He didn't like having to take on Ifrit's role, being the only ghoul part Fire still in the Ministry at the time. He didn't like his costume being changed two times. He didn't like when Sunshine first joined them. He doesn't like when new ghouls are summoned, they always want to be all up in his business. More than anything, Dewdrop doesn't like Phantom.

Aether, his Aether, has to leave the band and do taxes all day because Phantom somehow impressed Imperator enough. He's not even that good, he's heard him play before. Nothing that even comes close to Aether.

Dewdrop bottles those feelings and opts fot ignoring Phantom's existence for as long as he can, which happens to be a little after they were officially on the road again.

Dew's had a particularly long day and even longer evening. He's barely slept, he ran out of cigarettes, he misses Aeth and the food is terrible. He keeps missing his cues during the ritual and he knows everyone knows. So when Phantom makes the mistake of accidentally bumping into him in the hallway, every word comes flying out and he's screaming at the poor ghoul before he can even process it.

Why does he has to constantly ruin everything? He can't even keep his shoulders to himself, as to take up everyone else's space. Life would be so much easier if Phantom had just stayed at the Ministry instead of trying to play rockstar. He's clearly not cut out for the road or for Dew's pack so why does he even bother trying? He's supposed to be Aether's replacement but he'll never be him so what's the point?

By the time Dew's voice runs out, both small ghouls are crying. Phantom's shocked by Dew's words and is carried into his locker room by Swiss while the Fire ghoul locks himself in a bathroom.

Aether hears about the incident from Mountain. He gives Dewdrop a call the following day. He explains everything to him and begs him to stop hurting the new ghoul. He wanted Phantom to take his place.

Dewdrop leaves the call a complete mess. He's confused, doesn't know which emotion to feel first. All he knows is a truth he'd rather have never known. Aether wasn't kicked out of the band. Aether left him.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghost #phantom ghoul #aether ghoul #ghost headcanons #ghoul headcanons #meerkat writes

194 notes · View notes

beefrobeefcal · 4 months

Text

Tah-tah 2023!

I can be a sentimental beef sometimes, but I will try to keep that to a minimum for brevity’s sake.

When I joined this community as the Beefro you know, I was struck by how quickly people were willing to interact and engage - randomly appearing in my inbox and dm’s. Some of the people I’ve met on here have become such dear friends to me over the past six months that I consider them just as important as the ones I have face-to-face interactions with. I’ve never been apart of an online community in this way before and I’m thankful.

I'm thankful for not only the people I've met, but for Pedro bringing us together. And for the absolutory depraved smut he has inspired us to expel and devour. Seriously. I have never felt so... so... full of yearning for a fictional character, enough so to propel me into writing an AU about him in a Boston.

All jokes aside, though, I am even more thankful for the hard work you have put into the pieces of fiction that deserve far more recognition that this hellsite can muster. I have have laughed, cried, screamed, wailed, felt joy and sorrow, felt fulfilled and empty from the fics I have read this year, and I cannot wait to see what you have for 2024.

I know that for many, 2023 threw lemons the size of blue whales at you and I’m thankful that you’re here and still sharing with us! I’m grateful for your vulnerability and to see that we are not alone in our hurt. I think this year, I’ve learned that ‘Misery loves company’ is not about finding others to fester with; it’s about getting through with the support of your mutual strugglers. I love this take. And I love you.

Another lesson I have learned is to not be competitive. I have a fantastic core community here in the Bistro and #beefro-is-blessed. But that doesn’t stop the little nagging voice that says ‘you’ll never have that many followers’ or ‘you’re too niche for your fics to get any more interactions’ when I see the engagement other writers get. I’m learning to be ignorant to that voice because I write for me. And for you (if you want it. If not, I love you anyway). And everyone in this community deserves to be celebrated for their contributions and achievements, no matter how big or small.

I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but you’ve never been anything but kind. This reformed emo loner never knew this could be a thing and I don’t take this for granted. My resolution for 2024 is to be more present and supportive of the community that reminded me how much I love storytelling. And also, to go to space…

Oh look at me going on… brevity’s sake indeed.

Beefro👌🥩💜

PS: A gigantic, huge, beautiful, smudgy, wet kiss to each of you. And a special thanks to my repeat offenders: @theywhowriteandknowthings @neverwheremoonchild @thehalflifeofloveisforever @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @noxturnalpascal @gasolinerainbowpuddles @sheepdogchick3 @wintrwinchestr @deathsholywaterr @clawdee @pedroshotwifey @gwendibleywrites @thehandalorian @vabeachazn @fullldash @harriedandharassed @nerdieforpedro @romana-after-dark @umnitsa @rebel-held @yahtiwakitakos @pop-sugar102 @sp00kymulderr @covetyou @yorksgirl @pr0ximamidnight @blackmetalamazon @chute-etoiles @josephquinnswhore @ghoulettesinspace @suzdin @silkniche @bonezone44 @fhatbhabie @emilyjustemily @famoushoneybee @maryrhodalouandted @missredherring @iamasaddie @lost-in-relative-dimensions @quinnnfabrgay ... and many, many more! (if i missed, you, send me a dm and I'll atone for my sins)

#a message from beefro #happy new year 2024 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #beefro is blessed #beefro is trash for pedro #🥩#beefro's bistro #friendos of beefro

51 notes · View notes

lovejosephquinn · 1 year

Text

Authors Note: A new mini series that I've thought about off of the top of my head, could flop, who knows but I'm excited to see how it unfolds. Please feel free to leave a comment or reblog if you're enjoying it, also if you want adding to the tag list for future parts/updates just lmk 🥰

Summary: Joe and reader have never seen eye to eye, growing up together and even further along the line in adulthood. There’s always been something lurking in the back of their minds. It couldn’t be, they share a mutual hatred and can’t stand the sight of one another. Surely, it’s been a long time coming but will the tension finally break into something more beautiful? Time tells all truths.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: slow burn, no smut just yet we're setting the scene here, reader does not like our boy (sorry) Word Count: 2.7k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @daleyeahson @ali-r3n @quinnypixie @thefemininemystiquee @winchester-angel @ayooooo0 @wonderheartz @avobabe87 @palomahasenteredthechat @chickennug90 @emma77645 @pepsimunson @figmentofquinn @ches-86 @sugarheart-riot @shawnamae87 @joeqnz @kayleeelena97 @etherealglimmer @birdysaturne @freakymunson @aol19 @coley0823 @lma1986 @eddiesgirls12 @poisonedluv @aysheashea @credulouskhaleesi @xlilithb

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

It’s true, you couldn’t fucking stand each other; you’d never been able to since the moment you laid eyes on him. You knew each other from school, sharing some lessons with him, having to bare the sight of him through your pubescent years and since the traumatic days of hormones and teenage dramas you’d never failed to find Joe on the television, you had eventually come to the conclusion that you would never get rid of Joe.

His stupid face, his smile and his eyes, the way his little freckles hugged his nose and fluttered around his features. The way his posture stood perfectly and the way his curls were scraped back perfectly when he’d used product. The way his oversized fashion sense suited him, never missing a smart shirt even if the odd time it happened to be creased had always somehow made him looked good. He bit his finger nails down to the core, he was perfectly imperfect and had a personality only the rarest of people seem to carry nowadays. Everyone seemed to adore him, everyone but you.

You even couldn’t stand the sound of his name, it infuriated you in ways you couldn’t describe. Joe-sef. Why wasn’t it spelt the way it was pronounced? His friends thought the world of him, girls would always leap themselves his way even in the early days of knowing him, it seemed the whole world was to be always served to him on a plate and you just couldn’t understand why it was every time you saw Joe, you had the feeling of wanting to scream in his pretty little face, scuff up his lovely head of hair, punch his lights out to see his reaction or just plainly to understand what all the fuss was about.

Joe felt the same way about you, he’d always thought you self centred, above everybody else and as arrogant as they come. A bitch. There was no denying he’d quietly thought of you as attractive, never letting out that thought way deep down but he’d never took the time to properly know you so he didn’t really understand who you even were. A little contradictive seeing as the situation was vice versa. He’d always followed you from his sights from a far with his deep chocolate brown doe eyes, the evil stare always cascading in the middle of your space in the form of a dead eye was the only way you'd ever seem to interact.

Even though this secret enemy to enemy based thing had been going on for years, you never changed your opinions on one another. You had lived close by together in the same neighbourhood in an all too close proximity where you could see his garden from your bedroom window when you were younger, where you'd often scowl when you saw him.

The sad truth in fact was when you'd unfortunately found yourself moving into the same complex as one another as adults, bumping into each other in the corridor, your front doors opposite. What are the god damn chances. Why in all of the grand city of London did you have to continue to live in the vicinity of this person. Was it something you'd done in another life to ruin your current one? You'd had to quickly shake off the thought of moving out before you had even progressed into your new home.

Joe shared his current home with his long time best friend Wesley, most people knew him and rated him the class clown, you could probably have thought of better back handed compliments to suggest. You'd hear them often stumbling in from nights out, competing to see who could be louder than who at 3am. On the rarest of occasions you'd hear the giggle of the unfortunate females who they'd more than likely targeted and fancied their chances at a one night stand with. Wesley wasn't exactly in your top ten either, the double act that they perceived themselves to be or in your case: tweedledum and tweedledee as you referred to them with a wicked smirk would at least calm you and give your brain some clarity. You lived alone, answering to nobody and living the independent life, just the way you liked it, peaceful and quaint; well when you weren't being heavily distracted by grown immature men that was.

If all of this was so apparent, why would you go out of your way to let him into your head a good chunk of the time? It was like the detestation had somehow formed this version of Joe in your head that you couldn't stop rationalising. Your own copy of the dictionary would of replaced the very word dislike with his name if you could republish it yourself. It was rare you even felt this way about anyone, but since you could remember you've just seen through him and what you think about his false pretensive ways just wind you up further. You've probably spoke a grand total of ten words to his face, which include excuse me if you wanted to get past, probably even though at the time there was more than enough room; you were doing it just to be spiteful.

You remembered your first day at your new place well. When Joe had caught wind that there was a new person arriving into the complex, a younger female gracing his presence above all else, you'd got a fellow neighbour assisting to bring your more heavier furniture from the moving van after offering to help outside. Upon seeing it was you who came sauntering around the corner, locking eyes with him when he was hovering against his open door to get a glance at the new potential 'victim', you'd been heavily avoided the moment he came to realisation that it was the bitch girl from school, not forgetting years later that you two were sworn enemies for no good reason at all. You noticed that Wesley had popped his head over Joe's shoulder to get a look in, but within seconds Joe pushed back with such force you heard a bump, sudden commotion and laughter, the door shut abruptly with a miniscule inch of a view of Wesley on the floor.

"What was all that about?" The older man looked confused at you as he carried your box inside.

"No idea." You shrugged it off, hoping to not get off on the wrong foot with at least one of the strangers who had stopped what they were doing to come to your aid.

You glanced at the sealed boxes that were perfectly labelled, the place bare and screaming to be made your own. You rubbed your hands over your face as your neighbour kneeled down to place the last box in the centre of the kitchen's space.

"That's the last of it. You need any more help kid?" Kid.

You offered him a grateful smile and shook your head. "No. Thank you for the help, would of been at this for hours if it weren't for you!"

"Name's Dan, I'm only a door away to the right if you change your mind."

"Y/N. It was nice to meet you."

He stood still by the door for a second, hoping not to make it too awkward of a goodbye by waiting for you to suggest for him to stay to save the day once more with the tedious task of unpacking.

"Well, see you around!"

Then you were alone. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back, a large inhale come exhale of the wonderful silence you were now experiencing for the first time today. It was a lot. You'd never dealt with this whole moving thing alone, it was something you had to come to terms with quick due to the fact your parents wanted you out of the house for good.

You settled down on the sofa which was conveniently provided to you by the landlords of the complex, luckily the majority of the furniture was already supplied so you wouldn't have the crappy job of forking out for new things just yet. Taking off your jacket, you decided that enough was enough for one day and that you'd begin again tomorrow. You placed it over yourself, lifting your legs up and edging down into the material to get a little more comfortable. Your eyes were heavy, nothing short of becoming a little fuzzy from the tiring events of relocation.

Once you'd eventually succumbed to the inevitable lengths of exhaustion, it seemed like you'd blinked and day had turned into night. The silence wasn't so silent anymore when you could hear the sound of music vibrating the walls and floor. You groggily scramble around to find your phone out of your pocket, clicking at the side button a few times to view your lock screen. You wiped over your eyes as you threw your head upwards to look over at the front door situated behind your sofa, your comfortable state slowly leaving you from the booming rhythms played on the outside. A small but intended huff from your nose escaped you as you could only now guess who was making all of the noise.

You stood up from your safe space, forgetting your jacket which was once placed over you now huddled around your feet on the floor. Picking it up and putting it on, you walked over to the kitchen area, turning on the tap to wet your face to make you at least feel somewhat human. Collecting yourself, you wandered over to the front door and swung it open, listening out to which direction the music was disrupting your hefty attempt at relaxation.

Your assumptions were completely correct in where the sounds came from. Now that you were only a few feet away, you could distinctly make out the sound of chatter coming from the inside of Joe and Wesley's flat, they were not alone. It infuriated you from the inside out that a house party was going on on your first night here, even more so now that you knew it was him hosting the god damn thing.

You moved forward and bashed your fist as hard as you could against the wooden frame, making your immediacy known to the idiots on the other side of said front door. You overheard an unknown male voice yelling at the top of his lungs over the loud noise. "Mate, there's someone at the banging at the door."

Not but a few seconds later, the entrance swung open and you looked up to see a half cut Wesley stood before you, gripping onto the door frame as he tried to make himself seem a little more sober than he appeared to be.

"What can I do you for?" An over dramatic hiccup followed. "I mean, do for you?" He asked with a stupid smile attached to his stupid face.

"Is this a regular occurrence?" You folded your arms.

"What?" You weren't particularly sure if he was playing dumb or was just that over consumed by alcohol that his brain cells had shrivelled up and died, the second option seemed more plausible to you.

"House parties at this hour." You weren't beating around the bush, you were in full adamance to get straight to the point and be done with this antagonising conversation, if that's what you could really call it.

"It's not even midnight love, don't get your knickers in a twist." He dropped the idiotic smile quickly and reverted to a scowl.

"Well some of us were asleep."

"Apparently not all of us though." You barely even realised you were rolling your eyes when you heard the all to sadly familiar voice of Joe standing guard behind his best friend who had clearly been awaiting his come-uppance to get a chance to make an unnecessary sarcastic dig towards you.

"Whatever, just please keep it down for my sanity yeah?" You intended on ending it there, but it was obvious to you now that Joe was refusing to let you have the last word.

"Nice to see you to Y/N." Joe smirked, your blood at boiling point almost immediately as you threw daggers his way. His chin was resting down on Wesley's shoulder, you're pretty sure in you own imagination your current fantasy was that if Wesley wasn't stood int he way, you'd of reached up and pulled on those disgustingly pretty curls that sat perfectly a top of his head, dragging him to the floor. Your subconscious mind was rooting for you, but instead you just stood there feeling rather deflated and repulsed.

You advanced to stick your thumb up towards Joe and turned around to go back into your flat before promptly being called back by Wesley, to both yours and Joe's astonishment, the way he'd said your name in such a subtle tone.

"Why don't you come in and have a drink?"

"No." Joe hollered. "No." You mimicked.

"Come on, just being a good neighbour." Wesley beckoned you with his hand. First of all you were barely dressed for such occasion, comfy clothes adorned with little to no make up and what was left was pretty poor from being asleep. "Right Joey?" They were honestly like a married fucking couple.

Joe made his groan evident, forcing the weight of the head on his shoulders to nod along to Wesley's good cop nature, if only he was just making the whole façade up, he wasn't.

"Honestly. Thanks for the offer. But I'm not bothered and neither's he." You pointed over at Joe who was now staring down at the floor like a told off child.

You ignored any more of Wesley's calls and walked away, shutting the door behind you, slumping up against it, annoyed at yourself for even letting yourself interact with someone you highly detested.

You went over to the boxes stacked around your kitchen, opening up one of them to pull out a glass for you to pour yourself some water so you could at least quench your thirst from the dried up mouth you'd conceived whilst wasting your oxygen in some way. Gulping a large amount of h20, a light tap came from your door, a blink and you'd miss it type of sound. You raised an eyebrow and dragged your feet over to open it, nobody was there. You stepped out to look around but the corridor was empty, your foot touched a foreign object that had been placed on the floor. Looking down to observe, a can of beer stood solo at the tip of your toes, not far from being on it's way to being knocked over by your heavy move.

You leaned down to pick up the can, squinting at the little post-it note that was stuck to it. For you, you can't hate him forever. Wes x

Was it that obvious to someone else that you'd always felt a strong level of regard with disgust for Joe? Apparently so. If Wesley was so adamant in being the peacemaker that made you at least acquaintances then he'd have to try a little harder than offering you a beverage by placing it and playing knock a door run. As much as Wesley had done your head in big time at school with his advanced levels of class clown-isms, you'd thought the note to be quite adorable in all fairness to him, so you took off the note, placing it onto the kitchen counter as a reminder that he maybe wasn't so bad when he wanted to be or the fact he'd maybe matured a little bit. Either way the can made it's way into the bin and you headed off to bed, refusing to think anymore of the whole ordeal.

#tell me how you hate me #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn angst #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader

231 notes · View notes

hikari-writes · 1 year

Text

character: konoha akinori [haikyuu!!]

warning: none, just konoha comforting stressed out reader, comfort fluff

words: 1.7k

a/n: yes i am shamelessly promoting my "konoha akinori as the best housemate ever" agenda join my cult 🧍🧍🧍this is for @sugardaddyreo 's "The Home Collab" !!! i literally screamed when i saw the masterlist for this collab i cant believe i got a perfect opportunity to write abt roomie konoha my beloved aojdiwjdie so thank u so much for hosting!!! 🙏🙏 sorry this took a long time 😭😭but thanks to u i had lots of fun making it <3333 if im gonna be honest- i definitely ddint expect itd be this long ---

You didn't talk much with Konoha Akinori. Not that you didn't want to, but it's more because of your clashing schedules. It's weird, considering the fact that you both share the same house, yet you can count with only two hands the number of times you have spoken to him.

Komi had been the one to introduce you to Konoha during your search for a house.

"He could use a roommate or two to divide the house rent with," your friend grinned and you considered that it's not such a bad option. You had never met this Konoha guy before but if he's a best friend of Komi, you figured that he's gotta be a pretty decent person.

And you were right. Well, sort of. You just assumed he was since you never had much interaction with him in the first place, even after 3 months of living together. You hate to admit it, but even after such a long time had passed, you barely knew anything about him besides his name. To say you two regarded each other as ghosts in your own house would sound like an overstatement, but it's sort of true.

With all that said, why was that Konoha Akinori holding your head against his chest, letting it rest there, while gently patting your back?

Let me take you back to a few hours prior to this.

That week had been awful for you. Extremely awful. All you wanted to do after leaving your workplace was to curl up in your bed, and probably cry yourself to sleep. That’s all. But even dragging your body to your bedroom was too much of a work, so instead you settled on lying down on the living room sofa. Did you care that your housemate’s probably gonna see you in your miserable state out in the open? No, rather, you’d thought that he’s going to pretend like he didn’t see it. After all, it’s not as if you guys were close enough for him to inquire about your wellbeing.

You heard the creaking noise of your shared apartment’s door opening. Your face still buried deep into the sofa cushion, you ignored it. ‘He’s home much earlier today,’ you thought to yourself. As expected, you didn’t hear anything afterwards, and you assumed he’d made his way into his bedroom. But when you felt a presence sitting down beside the sofa, you came to the realisation that maybe your assumption had been wrong after all.

A few seconds passed by with no words exchanged between you two. It made you think that maybe you were just imagining things and Konoha wasn’t really there besides you. Not too long after that however, he spoke up.

“Hey…are you alright?”

You could’ve just said yes and let him leave. You could’ve just made up an excuse on the spot, it’s really not that hard. Why would you need to confide in him when he’s just a stranger you’re sharing your living space with? But as soon as he asked that, a million different emotions washed over you in an instant. It’s a simple, and not to mention an overused question, but maybe that’s just what you needed at the moment. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped you. He wrapped his arms around your shaking figure, silently comforting you. At that moment, your soft weeping was the only thing echoing throughout the room.

And so, that was what led you to this point. He allowed your head to rest comfortably on his chest while he listened to whatever your problems had been. He was a good listener, and even offered encouraging words to help lift up your spirit. You never expected that, and you must admit that you were impressed.

“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Konoha gently rose up from his seat after he was done talking, and it took all of your willpower to not stop him from leaving your side. Your eyes curiously followed him to the kitchen. He took out a tub of ice cream from the fridge, one that just happened to be your favourite flavour. After he took a couple of spoons from the cupboard, he made his way back to the living room where you were with a grin.

“Thought this might help. It’s your favourite, right?”

You simply blinked at him, stunned.

“How did you know that?”

“We’ve lived in the same apartment for months now, I think I would at least be able to notice this much,” his reply was nonchalant, but it made you feel a bit guilty since you never noticed anything about him. ‘Maybe he’s just really observant…or I’m the one who’s too ignorant of my own surroundings,’ you silently concluded.

You took a spoonful of the ice cream, followed by Konoha, and could feel your heart lightening up just a little at the coolness of the dessert. Konoha began to reach for the tv remote and switched it on, going through a selection of shows that you both could enjoy together. You turned to him when a question popped up in your mind.

“I’ve never seen this one in the fridge before. Did you just buy it?”

He looked surprised by that question, and it took him a moment to reply to it. He coughed once, as if he’s trying to cover up his increasingly red cheeks.

“Well…yeah. Uh…It’s just…I noticed that this week you looked extremely tired. I thought that maybe buying you your favourite ice cream could help make you feel better so… I picked it up on my way home just now.”

He looked away, embarrassed at his own confession. Either he’s really observant, just as you’d concluded earlier, or your fatigue and stress were that visible. Either way, you felt your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You choked back another sob before softly whispering a thank you. You weren’t sure whether he heard that or not, but from the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his face back towards you and his hands softly placed atop your head.

A few more minutes passed by, and you could feel yourself calming down from the earlier outburst. With the ice cream tub in your hand and shoulder leaned against Konoha’s, you both continued to watch the show on the tv in silence, minus the occasional funny commentary you both gave towards the characters in the show.

Despite the energy it took off of you for all that crying, your eyes didn’t feel quite sleepy yet. There was still something on your mind. You glanced at Konoha. He didn’t look like he’s about to fall asleep anytime soon either.

“Hey, Konoha?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m..sorry.”

He looked at you with a puzzled look, so you continued.

“For burdening you with my problems even though we’ve barely even talked before. And speaking of that, I’m sorry for not trying harder to close the gap between us….even though we’re supposed to be housemates and all.”

Konoha looked contemplative for a moment before giving you a playful grin.

“If that’s the case, why don’t we start over then,” he replied with an outstretched hand.

“The name’s Konoha Akinori. I'm 24 years old and I work as an employee at a pharmaceutical company. I’ll be in your care from now on, roomie.”

You had to process his words for a moment before taking his outstretched hand in yours, shaking it.

“Same here…roomie.”

Your reply came with a grateful smile that graced your lips. It was the first time he’d seen that bright of a smile from you. He could feel the heavy weight in his chest lightening up. He'd been worried for you ever since he first noticed how distressed you were. Now that he finally saw the genuine smile on your face, he felt relief washed over his entire body and he found himself smiling alongside you.

"If anything ever gets too much for you, well…just know that I'm always here to help. Don’t shoulder them all by yourself.”

He ruffled your hair, messing it up even more than it already was, before standing up from the sofa.

“You should go to bed. It’s late already,” he suggested, eyes still on you. You were about to nod at his suggestion when he grinned cheekily.

“Or if you’re having trouble sleeping, I can help lull you to sleep.”

‘...this little shit.’

You narrowed your eyes at him and racked your brain to come up with a snarky comeback. You stopped yourself when you came to a sudden conclusion.

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I’d love for you to sing me a lullaby. I do wonder what kind of angelic voice you have.”

It was your turn to tease him and his eyebrows squeezed together into a frown. He turned his face away from you, but you could still see his slightly red ears. You then made your way into your bedroom, with Konoha silently following behind you.

It’s funny now that you think about it. Just a few months ago, you were struggling to hold a proper conversation with him. But now, after properly talking to him for the first time for only a couple hours, you could easily tease each other like you’ve known each other your whole life. Talking with Konoha wasn't as stifling as you had feared. The reason you were able to talk to him so casually was also thanks to him making the flow of the conversation so natural. At that moment, you genuinely admired your housemate as the man that he is.

You climbed up onto your bed while Konoha took a nearby chair in your room and placed it at your bedside.

“So you’re actually going to sing me a lullaby?”

“Shaddup.”

He gently slapped a hand on your face, covering your eyes, before heaving a sigh and started singing. It was a gentle tune, and paired with his voice, it didn’t take you long to fall into a deep slumber.

Once he saw your steady breathing, he stopped and took his hand off of your face. With his chin resting on his palm, he stared absentmindedly at your sleeping figure.

‘Did I just earn myself a housemate or a kid to babysit?’ He wondered to himself, gently scoffing at his own question. Right before he walked himself out of your room, he turned his head one last time and smiled.

“Sweet dreams, y/n.”

#🏠.if walls could talk #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu konoha #haikyuu konoha akinori #haikyuu konoha akinori x reader #haikyuu konoha x reader #konoha akinori #konoha x reader #konoha akinori x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fukurodani

171 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 8 months

Text

💟 yh family concert vlog cpns & some yibo thoughts…💭💬

thank you to yibo-official for feeding us with some content this weekend. it’s been kinda quiet since friday, so this is a sweet treat for everyone before monday comes in.

( excuse this very extra gif i’m using for this post. lol. i’ve just been obsessed w/ how yibo looks in this. the way he turned his head is so cute. soooo… ☺️ )

YBO is back. or the question is, did they ever leave? lol. ever since that news/rumor came out, together with the lrlg post, I was still 50/50. Because it’s hard to confirm things, especially ones that involve his career and what’s allegedly going on. However with the content that’s being released, from OnO to now, it has the same feel as the original YBO. who knows. I’m just happy, like everyone else, to see this kind of updates from his team.

Yibo is not really one to share much personal stuff anymore on his social media accounts so YBO is so important. Plus the fact that they regularly update their IG too ( remember to interact on their please! ) for us international fans gives them plus points in my book.

It’s also a relief to see the negative comments wind down to being non existent. I truly understand why some fans feel the need to complain, but ybo is not really that place. I personally don’t like the idea of acting like an anti in a space that represents yibo. that could just be me tho.

Anyway, I hope we get more! I wanna see the bts footage they have with BTF & One and Only! I feel like they spoiled us with HB’s 1 hour + BTS footage so we’re all expecting to get the same for BTF & OnO. BTF has some restrictions i guess with what they can share since some filming were done in military sites.

Now I wanna highlight this portion of the vlog, with WYB being in a good mood during the last part of the concert.

This was the part where some people were saying that he looked ‘unhappy’, implying that’s because he didn’t wanna be there / cause there are mostly bxgs who attended. however, this clip, and a lot of the moments on the blog told a different story.

He was obviously not dragged in there — crying and screaming to perform. He was invested with his performance. He looked happy to be with his professional “family”. It’s an example of some fans having their own biased interpretation with this event. I respect those who decided to not attend, it’s their choice and money. But it was really irritating to see them nag and bitch about those who decided to support yibo. Plus it’s their own money. They can spend it however they want.

Funny thing is, those big name accounts who were so vocal about being against Yuehua Ent. & attending — did in fact, attend the concert 😂😂😂 so yeah. It’s an age old story. Don’t believe big name accounts, especially on weibo. These KOLs that “lead” fan opinion can be very shady. At the end of the day, we’re all here to support WYB and his projects in the best way we can. 🙏🏼

=====================================

🍫🍦 TIME FOR SOME SUGAR/CPNS !!!! 🍭🧁

=====================================

The fact that the video is 8:05 minutes long which is an example of how kadian/numbers are important. Well, not all the time, but the team takes that into consideration. So if you see them pulling a 10:05, that would be very sus 👀

As usual, some editing similarities….

Again, editing similarities, even if there are so many could still be a coincidence but it’s fun to still pay attention.

Also the details in YIBITO. He has the apple watch! I will never get over the fact that this “detail” is being highlighted like this when it is a popular cpn among turtles and we always look for it.

Some also noticed this “….” Which we don’t know the relevance of, but it could be a clue that LRLG is from Bobo’s team. This is unusual for me, cause ellipsis are usually “…” right?

I’m taking it as a galaxy brain cpn 🌌

ZZ also allegedly got off work today at 19:22, and then ybo posts @ 19:36. Yes, WYB has his own team but since we CPN that their staff could overlap — this timing is interesting. Maybe it needed a final sign off from the other boss? 😂😂😂😂

SHOUT OUT TO BOTTLED JOY, cause WYB was seen using some during the bts. He also took one with him in the Thailand roadshow. So i guess it’s safe to say that he has a good relationship with the brand, despite what others feel about them. He wouldn’t be showing off if he wasn’t. I’m looking forward to his renewal with them and what new stuff & campaign will be in place. BXGs will surely be lining up to support.

-END

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

85 notes · View notes

raccoonfallsharder · 7 months

Text

random rant. why was i thinking about this I do not know

i have a lot of thoughts about infinity war and endgame. there were some great moments (i love a good community experience and the lady in the theatre sharing her tissues with me when cap hears “on your left” will forever be a moment engraved on my heart - bless you strange lady wherever you are and may your life be full of good food good health good company && cherry blossoms)

but in general neither of them were great (not me writing an essay about how they clearly created the endgame script with the ability write captain marvel out if her movie didn’t do well, or about how the “girl power” scene was meaningless && performative, or about how they killed off nat who had been holding the planet together for five years to save clint barton the serial killer and then like?? didn’t have a funeral for her???)

but for the purposes of this post i will stick to how DIRTY they did the guardians of the galaxy

honestly rocket’s fat jokes. comics-canon rocket is attracted to all sorts of bodies and movie-canon rocket is honestly too aware of his own body image issues to risk bringing attention to anyone else’s tbh

nebula and rocket stayed on earth for five years during the snap? HOW is that canon??? i just absolutely fuckin refuse to believe it and i have wiped it from my mind. it makes NO sense. maybe they would’ve stayed until thanos got his head lopped off but after?? nah. they’re going back to space. maybe touching base with krags, the other ravagers like stakar, etc etc etc. i hereby uncanonize this event it’s fuckin stupid

even if we give allowances to the endgame writers and remind ourselves that they didn’t know about floor & teefs & lylla - i just can’t see interactions between rocket and thor in infinity war playing out the way they did. rocket had lost everyone in the snap (nebula being really only an ally at the time of infinity war) and he liked thor in endgame. (don’t get me started on the treatment of depression and grief in these fuckin movies)

nat’s treatment of rocket makes me wanna scream. why does serial killer clint look like the respectful one when they’re talking about her alleged coworker of five years?? who has apparently been working on protecting this planet he doesn’t think he has any ties to??

2014 nebula replaced 2022/2023 nebula and neither tony nor *rocket*, sole companion for five years (while isolated on terra apparently????) NOTICED??? it makes me so fuckin mad i could scream (don’t worry i fuckin fixed it)

gimme some time and im sure ill think up more

#chatting with the void #they did the guardians so fuckin dirty #endgame rants

52 notes · View notes

snickerdoodlles · 11 months

Note

Hi hello me!!! I would like a headcanon please!! 🤲🥰

❤️❤️.

Chay does not like Khun or Kinn when he first meets them. it takes special circumstances for him to shake his first assessments of them to even give them a chance.

Khun’s the easy one—he and Chay match well in personality (the mutual sass when they introduce themselves my beloved!! 🥰) and while they don’t share the same interests, they have enough overlap they have a lot of fun hanging out together. But after their introduction, the parts of Khun that Chay sees are him trying to cope with the chaos Korn’s stirring and Khun’s coping mechanisms, dissociation, and distancing from the stress and triggers come off as very dismissive and even cruel. Chay doesn’t understand it, he doesn’t know Khun well enough to, and he doesn’t try to (why would he? this mafia family ruined his life)

In my mind, the changing point for their relationship comes after the finale gunfight—Porsche begs Chay to stay with Khun because they’re stretched thin and Khun’s spaces are the safest place for him right now. Chay hates it, but accepts it for Porsche, figuring he’ll just hide in a corner or something and ignore everyone.

But, at some vague point during all this, an alarm goes off. Turns out to be a false alarm, but before they figure that out, Chay watches Khun lock down his room, locate his brothers and Porsche, hunt down the problem, etc—basically Khun goes full protective mother bear in every way he can, and a few things start clicking for Chay. because he too is extremely protective of his loved ones but limited in what he can do, and it completely reframes his view of Khun and who he is.

Kinn and Chay’s relationship takes a lot more work.

The first problem is that they have a fundamental personality clash—Chay’s whole thing is that he draws a circle around the people he cares about and guards them jealously. He wants to share their burdens and make sure they’re happy. Chay would burn the world for the people in his circle, consequences be damned. And for a very, very long time, Porsche is the only person in that circle. Kim is the second. Chay hasn’t even considered adding anyone else yet.

Kinn also cares a lot about his people, but his whole thing is taking on all his people’s burdens. He gave up his dream to become the heir for Khun. Kim never would’ve been able to go to college and stay mostly out of mafia business the way he does without Khun and Kinn supporting him completely. Kinn plays his cards to protect other people (Porsche) more than himself and he’ll put himself in the line of fire to protect any of his guards. Kinn’s circle is huge, and quick to expand. Chay doesn’t get Kinn.

Plus, Chay’s upset and kinda jealous Kinn’s so important to Porsche. He hasn’t gotten the chance to deal with the fact that Porsche abandoned him for weeks to go take care of other people—he knows Porsche was coerced and he’s pissed about that too, but Porsche chose to lie—and now Porsche is confiding in Kinn the way he never did with him. Chay’s still pissed about everything in general. He wasn’t happy when Porsche asked if he could take care of him and Kinn, his face just screamed ‘he’s rich and has a whole building of guards, why do you have to take care of him’, but this was also the first time Porsche has ever asked him for anything and Chay will always compromise for the people in his drawn circle, so of course Chay said yes. But the mafia still ruined their lives, is continuing to ruin their lives, and Kinn is the face of said mafia. Entirely fair? No. He’s mostly pissed at Korn, and Kinn’s getting some of that anger just because he’s available whereas Chay doesn’t interact with Korn. But these sorts of feelings aren’t rational, and Chay’s too trapped in it all right now to get a chance to even safely think through and process how he really feels. So for now, Chay’s just scared and trapped and angry and hiding all of it under overt politeness and courtesy and running away from him as soon as he can make an excuse.

Now, I do actually think Kinn and Chay will become really good in-laws one day, I can see them getting on together spectacularly.

But not without getting rid of Korn first. Or at least some extenuating circumstances that give them a break from Korn’s shadow where they have a chance to have a good heart-to-heart. It’s actually one of my favorite scenarios to throw at them in fics in general, Chay’s straightforward approach to life plus Kinn’s caution and determination make for a wonderful combination in Getting Shit Done 🥰

anyways the tl;dr of this is the only Theerapanyakul Chay instantly gets on with is Kim, the others have a mountain to climb first

Send an ask, get a headcanon

#kinnporsche #i don’t think people acknowledge Chay’s anger in canon enough yknow?#he’s not explosively angry #he’s overly courteous and quintessentially 🙂#but he’s still angry #ask game: headcanon gacha

55 notes · View notes

abbyholmes · 24 days

Text

I needed a couple of hours to sort through my thoughts about 7x04 - because I was busy screaming, crying, kicking my feet giggling - but now I just gotta say, before I dive into any details: I AM SO INCREDIBLY HAPPY.

As a bisexual myself who realized she‘s always been bi at the ripe age of 30 and after already being very married to the very male love of her life (which wasn’t at all changed by the realization), seeing bi characters having their ‚oh‘ moment later in life than in their teens is SO VALIDATING.

I love how yes, there have always been hints and it makes sense for the character but they actually gave Buck the space to find out this new thing about himself. They showed an adult man figuring this important part of his identity out when he was ready for it. Without it being induced by trauma or relationship troubles. That is so so so meaningful and so so so beautiful at the same time. I legit CRIED LIKE A BABY watching Buck‘s face go ‚oh I see‘ after the kiss. He just landed in his body as the penny of truth dropped and he seemed so content it made me squeek. I love seeing our golden retriever carving his place out in the world and discovering how to fully embrace all of himself.

And I love he gets to do it with Tommy.

Yes, I am a buddie shipper and that hasn‘t changed. However, whichever way the show moves now, bi Buck means the world to me. And the way they are telling the story with Tommy in a gentle, realistic way, I hope we get more of that. Hell I even really like their vibe together. Tommy seems like he‘ll be okay holding the hand of a baby queer and help him dip his toe into the water. Wherever that leads, it was a genius decision to introduce him to Buck‘s story.

Now for the details:

This episode wasn‘t only beautiful, it was also hilarious. THE TOP GUN REFERENCE HAD ME HOLLERING. At that point I knew some queerness was gonna happen because you don’t make the queerest reference in movie history without reason. Also absolutely loved the sewer conversation (hooray for Ravi by the way, I missed that little dude) and the emotions Buck goes through during the conversation.

Buck‘s jealousy is as stupid as it is adorable and I have to say I did find Eddie the slightest bit unfair. He knows Buck has abandonment issues and still doesn‘t register that he might need some reassurance. Yes okay, I get he wanted a little payback for the Nathalia ‚she sees me‘ bs, but come on, Eds, cut the poor man some slack.

The acting in the episode? Chef‘s kiss. Oliver was amazing, but I don‘t see Lou getting enough credit. He already planted his visible interest in Buck in 7x03 nicely in that one tiny interaction at the end and he really delivered on the flirty banter in this episode. Oliver, meanwhile, has done such a great job at showing the gradual change in Buck and the nervousness and the curiosity and hopefulness it tugged on all of my heartstrings. Deserving of an Emmy-nom. Great Job, loved every second.

Maddy and Chim very also amazing in the ep, especially Chim clocking immediately why Buck really brought him to basketball. It‘s gonna be interesting to see their reaction to Buck‘s truth - if he‘s ready to share it yet.

The only thing that bugged me was that Athena‘s storyline felt very rushed. I liked the theme and I think it hinted at important conversations, but it resolved the conflict too fast and too easy - making said issues seem smaller than they are. I struggle to believe that they would let a POC kid off the hook that easily. I wish this was realistic, but I doubt it is.

Bachelor call was great, loved gossipy Josh (by god, I want more Josh, I love that goofball) and Chim going full fanboy.

Can‘t wait for next week and hope we get more Hen and Bobby there! I missed them this ep.

I am so excited to see where Buck‘s story arch will go next. I‘ll explode with happiness if it slowly drifts towards buddie, but I won’t be mad if it doesn‘t happen or if it does happen and the show takes its time to get there. A slow buildup for this would be chef‘s kiss and I have a lot of trust in ABC and the writers that this is how they will do it, if Buddie happens.

All in all: Favorite episode of all the series for me, worthy 100th episode, will watch a billion times, made me all warm and fuzzy and giggly.

#911 spoilers #evan buck buckely #bi evan buck buckley #bi evan buckley #buck #911 s7 ep4 #911 tv show #911 on abc #911 abc #buck bothered and bewildered #this is the bi rep I am rooting for #love how much bi rep is currently happening in fiction #if we get something similar for the bi girlies somewhere I‘ll be so happy #we won people we won #canonically bi buck #2024 the year that you are #I spend the majority of the week in hospital and this was just the pick me up I needed #GOD I AM SO NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS #buddie

13 notes · View notes

tilltheendwilliwrite · 8 months

Text

Reflections

Chapter One

Master List / Real People Master List / Reflections Master List

Pairing: Mia MacAlsdair x Au Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: partner abuse, language, 18+ Minors do not interact

A/N: I apologize in advance should my Scottish/English interpretations be incorrect. I am Canadian playing in a world of my own making. Do not @ me.

**I do not tag. **To be notified of updates and new works, subscribe to me or the story on AO3 for email notification, or follow the library blog @tilltheendwilliwrite-library with notifications turned on so you’re not missing out. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

Leonardo da Vinci once wrote, "I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection."

Mia took those words to heart when life crashed and burned around her. At thirty-one, she found herself dumped by her fiancé of five years, homeless, and out of work, recovering from the pandemic and all that went along with that bullshit.

Canada wasn't hit as hard as other places worldwide, but it was hard enough that the economy struggled to recover even a few years later.

As an artist with a unique style, Mia also struggled. She had a decent following, and people liked her creations, but when the pandemic hit, she stagnated in a market that no longer had disposable income to spend. She put her hastily acquired medical transcription certificate to use to make ends meet and began working from home in her shared apartment. The work-from-home opportunity allowed her to continue to create art while bringing in a steady paycheck.

But Colt didn't like it. His law firm also turned to the work-from-home model, sticking them together in the same space without any breathing room for days on end.

Mia hadn't thought much of it at first. They loved each other, had lived together for two years at that point, and were blissfully happy as far as she knew. Time together was precious when Colt could spend upward of seventy-plus hours a week at the office. Having him home every night, having dinners together, and time to binge a little television sounded like heaven.

Until it wasn't.

Within months, he grew waspish, snapping at her for working on the kitchen table, taking up too much space, and playing her music too loud. When he began to berate her for her art supplies and how she couldn't just hog an entire room with them, Mia thought the stress of the pandemic had gotten to him.

Six months in, and she couldn't do anything right.

He'd always been a little critical, commenting on her clothes, hair, or makeup, but whenever she called him on it, he would say he was trying to help her better herself. She needed to act a certain way and dress a certain way. She needed to look like she belonged if she wanted to accompany him to company outings or galas.

A backward view granted her twenty-twenty vision at the giant walking red flag that was Colt, but Mia was too blind to see it at the time. And with Covid riding the world like a jockey whipping the last-place finisher on race day, Mia was stuck.

Plus, it was only stress. Or so she convinced herself.

When Colt's return to work order came, she was relieved. Maybe now she would get her Colt back, the sweet guy who brought her flowers and called her at lunch every day to hear her voice.

She didn't.

Colt only grew worse. Instead of just criticizing her, he yelled, screamed, and punched walls.

In hindsight, she should have left right then, but Mia kept chalking his actions up to stress. People changed with the pandemic. Life got harder. Money got tighter. Maybe she could do more, be better, try harder.

It wasn't until he grew indifferent that she realized she'd lost him. Finding the messages on his iPad that proved his cheating only confirmed what she already knew.

But Mia had nowhere to go. She didn't make enough money to get a place by herself when rent in her area was at an all-time high. She tried to take on more work, but so many people had the same idea as her when the pandemic struck that the transcription industry was flooded with workers. She even applied for jobs around town, but none paid enough. They wanted her to work for pennies for less than full-time hours, so they didn't have to pay benefits.

She was barely scraping by on helping with the rent. It was a crapshoot, and she knew it. So she bit her tongue; she stayed in her loveless relationship even as Colt's indifference grew into resentment, anger, and, finally, violence.

The first and only time he hit her, they were in the middle of an argument where she finally told him she knew about his cheating. He went quiet, scarily so. His face drained of colour before it rushed back in, painting his skin crimson as he lunged and slammed her into the wall, screaming at her for dragging out their relationship when he could have been with his new flame all this time.

The fist to the temple put her on the ground, knocked her teeth together, and set her ears ringing. But Mia was tougher than she looked and Colt was too stunned by what he'd done to stop her when she staggered to her feet, grabbed a side table lamp, and threatened to use it on him if he didn't leave. She screamed at him to get out and not come back, to go be with his new girlfriend if he wanted her so badly.

There was some minor back and forth, but every time his eyes darted to the blood and darkening bruise on her face, guilt flashed over his. Eventually, he left, but not before telling her she had forty-eight hours to get her shit out of his house.

Yeah, his, because he asked her to give up her lease and move into his place years earlier.

She slammed the door in his face, threw the lock and added the security chain for good measure. Then, on a wave of regret, grief and humiliation, and feeling stupid and utterly hopeless, Mia sat on the floor and cried until she sobbed, heaved, and almost threw up.

At that point, she wondered if she had a concussion, but there was no way she was leaving the apartment to find out, unsure if he would come back and toss all her stuff over their balcony in a fit of supreme assholery.

Colt could no longer be trusted.

Instead, she cleaned herself up, got an ice pack, and sat down to figure out what she would do in the next two days with what amounted to no job, no friends, and no family to help her.

Colt was once her best friend and family, the only one she really needed, and Mia found making friends difficult. She was neurodivergent, which was great for creating art but made maintaining lasting friendships difficult when it was easy to forget they existed for two or three weeks. People eventually got tired of reaching out when she never reached back. It wasn't that she didn't want friendships, but sometimes the worlds in her mind demanded all her time, energy, and focus to the extent that nothing else existed. Everything else could fade away, even Colt.

The only thing that remained was Him.

Mia glanced at the altar near the window. It wasn't much and Colt always teased her about her weird religious practices, but Mia ignored him. She was a Norse Pagan with strong leanings toward Lokean practice. Yeah, she worshiped the God of Mischief, but not the one in some comic book or movie. Her God was real. She knew it, felt it, and relished his attention when it came. The how and the why of it all were a long story, but she'd followed the path most of her life.

Even now, his voice whispered Colt wouldn't go unpunished, but Mia only sighed. "I think we've punished each other long enough."

She'd used him for a place to live, trapping them in a loveless relationship. Did that excuse him for hitting her? Fuck no! And if Loki wanted to exact retribution for that, she wouldn't stop him. But she needed to figure out what to do about right now.

The pile of discarded mail tumbled off the kitchen island, and a brown legal envelope skittered across the floor to run point first into her bare toe. The sharp little jab made her grunt.

"That's uncalled for, you know," she muttered, even as she picked up the envelope.

Mia hadn't bothered to look at it when she got it from the mailbox, assuming it was something for Colt, but finding her name and that of a law firm she'd never heard of on the return address label caused her to frown as she tore it open.

The first thing to fall out was a set of keys that looked like they were from a Jane Austin novel. Second was an old black and white photo, gone sepia with age. Third was a package of papers with a crisp white envelope paperclipped to the front.

The photo was of an old house, not quite a manor but bigger than a cottage, with a man and woman and three small boys standing out front.

She set the photo and the keys aside, glanced at what looked like a lot of legal jargon, and plucked the letter from inside the envelope. The words swam together a little, causing concern about concussion again, but the more she read, the farther her jaw dropped.

"How the hell do I own an estate in Scotland!?" And not just a house, but land, properties, and money—an obscene amount of it.

Loki's wicked laughter echoed in her head like an eerie breath of wind.

Telling the Mischief God to piss off, Mia made a phone call.

In a whirlwind of information, delivered by what turned out to be a very nice - though thickly accented - older man who she had clearly woken up, Mia discovered a heritage lost to her when her parents died in a fire when she was eleven.

She would never know whether it was the headache throbbing behind her eyes, the pulse of blood in her bruised temple, or just the shitty day piling up. Still, she sat on the floor and cried for the second time, causing the poor man to exclaim in alarm, demand to know if she was alright, and absolutely lose it when Mia lost her mind and told him everything.

Fergus MacDougal - because, of course, that was his name - informed her that he would take care of everything. He asked if she were safe to remain in the apartment overnight, to which she nodded before realizing he couldn't see her and replied yes. Colt was unlikely to be back before she was due to be out. Neither wanted to see each other again. They'd already said things they couldn't take back.

Fergus appeared to breathe a sigh of relief before telling her she was to pack her belongings, anything she wanted to bring with her immediately in one pile and everything she wanted to be shipped later in another, and be ready when the car called in the morning.

Stupidly, Mia asked, "What car?"

"The one to take you to the airport, lass. We'll have you across to us in a blink. You do have a passport, yes?"

Stunned, Mia again nodded before giving an affirmative grunt.

His laughter was like warm honey, thick and rich, rumbling in her ear before telling her to text him if she needed anything and hung up.

She sat staring at the phone for long moments before a gentle push from a kind hand knocked her from her stupor as Loki whispered, Pack your things, girl.

Mia looked up, almost expecting to see him crouched on the sofa like a raven, beaming at her, his red hair braided back from his face and threaded with feathers, but there was nothing.

She rose on shaky legs, dumped the thawed ice pack back in the fridge, dug three Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet and brewed a pot of coffee. She had work to do.

When the car called in the morning, all her art supplies, paintings, and works in progress were packed and waiting. She found all the boxes she needed in the building's recycling, ran out of the apartment long enough to buy tape and grab something to eat, and spent the rest of the night packing up her life.

When morning dawned, she looked at her small piles of boxes and fought the burn of tears for what felt like the hundredth time in only hours.

Going through her things, clothes, jewelry, even the DVDs, she realized how little of it she wanted to keep. She had no mementos, nothing from her past, and hardly any photos. Everything in the apartment was Colt's or something he bought her. They were all things Colt wanted her to wear, how he wanted her to look, how he wanted her to act.

Mia left it all behind. She took what little she'd brought with her five years ago and left the rest in garbage bags to donate.

Lastly, she wrapped and packed Loki's altar. The crystals, feathers, bowls, toys, statues, and altar cloth went in a small wooden box she carefully covered in bubble wrap, placed in the box with her meagre collection of books, and taped shut.

In her backpack, her laptop, chargers, the envelope from the lawyer, wallet and passport were ready to go.

She spent the last two hours cancelling everything she could think of and informed the landlord she was leaving. She wasn't on any of the utility bills or the lease, but she did change all her passwords before submitting a request to remove her name from their joint bank account, though she didn't touch the money.

It was exhausting, and by the time the movers knocked, Mia was ready to drop.

She opened the door to find a man in his later years, sixty to sixty-five, with white hair and crinkles around his eyes. His smile fell from his lips as his gaze zeroed in on her temple, and Mia's hand flew to her face.

He stepped toward her and slowly grasped her wrist, drawing her hand from the black bruise and mildly swollen eye.

"Is this the first time?" he demanded gently.

Mia lifted her chin and stared him in the eyes. "And the last."

"Do you want to press charges?"

Air tickled her ear, and a growl that could be mistaken for thunder rattled the windows.

"It's being taken care of."

She didn't know what he saw in her face, but the arch of his brow and slight quirk of lips said he believed her.

Afterward, it was a whirlwind. She wasn't sure how many men there were, but they had everything - which wasn't much - carted up and off, though she insisted on taking the last box she packed and her backpack herself.

Sebastian, the white-haired man in the cashmere coat, Armani suit, and red-soled shoes she didn't even want to guess the price of, insisted on carrying the box for her. As it wasn't heavy, Mia relented. He was a spry, fit man who filled out his coat with broad shoulders but had a grandfatherly quality that set her at ease.

While the movers took her things, he explained Fergus called him, asking him to see Mia safely onto the plane. As they were partners in a global firm of lawyers, he was happy to help, but when he saw how little she had, he instructed the movers to put everything onto the truck for the plane. They may as well send it all with her now.

Mia listened, but everything was a wall of sound and movement; nothing made sense, and if she didn't get horizontal soon, she would pass out and fall down.

Sebastian, seemingly aware of that fact, ushered her into the elevator, out the front, and into a limo, shocking her again when she was met with a wall of heavenly scent. Fresh coffee and sweet baking. He placed one of each in her hands, and she ate by remote as the car pulled from the curb.

Sebastian continued to talk, asking her questions about her art, having clocked the easel - likely to keep her awake - as they headed for the airport. When they arrived, Mia frowned because they didn't stop at International Departures but passed it to the private terminals.

"I don't understand," she murmured, too tired to hide her confusion.

"You didn't think Fergus would put you on a commercial flight, did you?" Sebastian chuckled, helping her out of the car when it stopped beside a private jet.

Mia stared at it, then looked at him in exasperation. "Who the hell are you people?"

Sebastian laughed. "The question, my girl, is who are you for Fergus MacDougal to call in numerous favours to get you out of that apartment and across the world in less than twenty-four hours'."

"I… I don't know," Mia whispered. The weight of what she was doing on an impulse suddenly hit her and caused her knees to shake.

Reflect, Loki whispered in her ear.

Her knees firmed, and she lifted her chin. "But Leonard da Vinci once wrote, 'I love those who can smile in trouble, who can gather strength from distress, and grow brave by reflection.'" She turned to Sebastian and held out her hand. "It's time for me to grow brave. I appreciate your help."

He grinned and shook his head. "You're an interesting woman, Miss MacAlasdair. I wish you good luck in your future endeavours."

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "I don't need luck. I have something better."

"Oh? What's that?"

Mia glanced at the plane when a flash of red caught her eye, only to find a black raven on the open door. "Mischief. And someone who can use it looking out for me."

Sebastian's smile quirked a little like she'd confused him, but he didn't ask, just ushered her to the foot of the stairs where the wide eyes of the flight attendant said Mia looked as bad as she felt.

But she would smile through her trouble, gather strength from her distress, face her reflection and grow brave. She wasn't sure about this, but no one said she had to go to Scotland forever.

She climbed up the stairs to stand in the open doorway where the raven remained and turned to take in the city skyline with the sun rising to cast an orange glow over the buildings. Mia had the sinking feeling it would be a long, long time before she returned to Canada.

The bird was gone when she looked up at the raven again, but that didn't surprise her. Loki came and went as they pleased. It was a long flight to Scotland, and the deity she worshipped wasn't happy with Colt. And if that growl at her former apartment was anything to go by, neither was Fenrir.

Retribution would be swift and cutting.

A pang of pity tried to swell in her gut, but Mia stomped it out. Colt made his bed when he hit her. Loki was going to make him lie in it.

She nodded a final time to Sebastian, walked onto the jet, and set her backpack and box on the couch before falling into a chair. When she fumbled to do up the seat belt, the flight attendant hurried to help her.

"We'll be taking off as soon as they load your things," she murmured. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, juice? Some ice?"

Mia sighed. "Does it look that bad?"

The woman winced. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to imply-"

"No, I'm sorry," Mia interrupted. "It's been a really long sixteen hours. If you have any, ice would be great, along with some Tylenol or Aspirin."

"Sure thing," she smiled. "I'll get that right away. Once we're at altitude, if you would like, you can move to the bedroom and sleep."

Mia's jaw dropped. "There's a bedroom!?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, honey. You haven't seen anything yet. I'm Ginny. Your pilots are John and Rhys, and we'll see you safely across the Atlantic. Once you're rested, I'll put together something more substantial than pastries and coffee for you, but let me get you some juice, painkillers, and ice. I'll be right back."

"Wait! How did you know what was in the limo?" Mia asked.

Ginny grinned. "Mister Vass always has coffee and pastries in the car for his morning drop-offs."

"So they do this a lot?"

"Rescue women and spirit them away to Scotland? No, I'm pretty sure this is a first," she chuckled and hurried off.

Mia frowned a little but couldn't dispute it. They did rescue her, though she hated being the damsel in distress, and vowed right then to find a way to repay Sebastian and Fergus for their kindness.

She glanced at the window and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Even in the glass, she could see the heavy bruising and sighed.

She reflected on her relationship. It had grown so toxic, so heartless. They'd been hurting each other emotionally for a long time. Neither was without blame, though she didn't excuse him hitting her. But she needed to close things on her terms. She didn't want to leave anything unsaid and wanted a clean break without contact.

The pain of the breakup had yet to come, but she knew it was simply a matter of time and distance.

Instead of thinking about it any longer, she dug her phone out of her backpack, noted it only had ten percent juice and sighed. She'd forgotten to charge it overnight. Still, it was enough battery to do what she needed and opened her text messages.

Colt,

I'm out. You can go home whenever you want. I've taken only my things - what I brought with me when I moved in, and my art supplies - all of the clothes, shoes, and accessories are in garbage bags for you to do with whatever you want. If you're going to get rid of them, at least donate them to Goodwill and don't throw them away. The landfills don't need that kind of burden.

I can't forgive how things ended. I could have lived with the screaming, cursing, and even berating because I did know you were seeing Mindy for almost a year, and I stayed because I had nowhere else to go. I used you for a roof over my head, which was selfish of me, but you hit me, which is unforgivable.

I don't want to hear from you after this. You were my best friend, my family, the only person I had left to turn to. The pandemic and subsequent fallout were brutal on everyone, but you changed. You turned into someone I don't recognize anymore. I hate who you've become.

I hate that we stopped talking about us, the wedding, our hopes and dreams. I don't know when you stopped loving me, I don't know when I stopped loving you, but somewhere along the line, we did stop. Maybe if Covid hadn't happened, we would be blissfully happy and settled down. Or maybe Mindy would still be in the picture, I can't say, but it doesn't matter now.

I'm done, Colt. You broke the last bits of my faith in you when you punched me in the face. Nothing you can say will make up for that. Nothing you can say will ever make me walk back into your life.

We were toxic to each other. Maybe apart, we can figure out how to be happy again.

Even now, I hope you find your happiness someday, but get help with your temper. You were never like that before.

For now, don't contact me. I don't want to hear from you, see you, or speak to you for a while. My world crashed and burned last night.

I need to start over.

I need to figure out how to do that.

I need to figure out a future without you in it.

Mia.

She hit send, saw it was delivered and received only seconds before her phone died. Mia sighed and shoved it back into her backpack.

She'd look into charging it later.

Next Chapter

#reflections #au tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #rpf #real people fiction

17 notes · View notes

thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

Haunted House

TW: Semi-public sex. Language.

SUMMARY: Your secret relationship with Topper walks a dangerous line as he chooses to show his affection for you in a more public place beneath the guise of the annual Haunted House.

WORD COUNT:

*Original Concept*

Haunted House

The fact you were in a secret relationship with Topper was solely to protect you. The way his friends would compare you to Sarah would be a weight he didn’t want you to have to bear. And even if you craved the sweet moments like being able to hold his hand in public or share photos on social media of just how happy he made you, there was a thrill in being together beneath the cover of darkness. Something exhilarating to be seen and even more exciting in knowing that these moments were never exactly planned. Lust took over for reason on more than one occasion. And tonight would prove no different.

His mother, Cynthia, had convinced him to work the annual haunted house as a means for ‘charity work’ as well as an excuse to keep him at arm’s length as she was rarely one to show any form of true maternal instinct. But because of this, you were set to meet him after it closed as it had been a week and a half since your last interaction, a desperation beneath the eager pep in your step as you would be sandwiched between your friends while they led the way through the decorated shed set up on the beach.

But through ghouls and zombies, werewolves and vampires, even a mental patient strapped to a chair, you wouldn’t find him beneath any of the cheap makeup already ruined by sweat. Instead, you feigned amusement in the jumpscares before being left behind as you became trapped by one of the actors you had recognized as having been Kelce. Committing to his psychotic aesthetic, you offered a smile before moving forward, a sudden force taking you into a darkened corner kept just out of view from the parade of patrons having paid for this thrill, as you would find this one for free.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” He asked, lips captivating yours as his hands were eagerly hooked at your hips.

“I think I can feel how much…” You teased, chuckling as he would scoff.

“You laughing at me, baby?” Your skin chilled whenever he’d call you anything-even something as simple as your name. But to know this pet name belonged to you had set your heart at an unsteady pace, as he pinned you harder into the wall.

“Did you miss ME?” Before you could answer, his fingers were beneath the skirt of your own costume, as you fisted the shirt of his zombie aesthetic.

“Oh you did, didn’t you baby? You need me real badly, don’t you?”

“So bad…” You breathed slowly, as he would pull you against him, his body tensing to the way your grip wrapped around his biceps.

“Topper-”

“I love when you say my name, especially when my fingers get to know how it affects you….

“But somebody could hear-”

“They’ll just think your screams are from someone else…all while we both know I’m the only one making you scream, ain’t that right, baby?” You nodded.

“So then do it baby…scream for me…” His arm rose and fell in the small space between you, the sight euphoric to the length your eyes were able to remain open before the pleasure of his touch became too much. Your body trembled at the way his thumb came to your clit and his middle and pointer finger curved inside of you, your clitoral hood and its sensitive nerves within were forced to rock into him as he nodded in endorsement.

“That’s it, ride my hand…feel good for me…I’ve missed those little purrs you make-Just for me…” You wrapped your grip around his wrist, feeling him quicken as he knew this to be your silent warning of being close, a need for more but a desperation for him to continue.

“That’s okay, baby…I want you to-”

“I don’t want it to stop-”

“It’s alright…Come for me…okay? Let me feel it two fucking meters from where anyone can see us…” He licked his lips. “Actually….” Your leg was suddenly hiked over his hip, your panites pulled to the side, before he was suddenly inside of you.

“Top!”

“Too fucking long-” He grunted into your shoulder. His hands were quick to assess your chest, squeezing lightly at your breasts but aggressively at your hips as he would pull you into him.

“Shit-” He groaned into your neck, a hand wrapped in your hair to pull you to face him, before his speed increased, your second leg taken around his waist in such a way that he was able to lift you with the support of the wall at your back. With eyes rolled into the back of your head and his praise grunted into your skin, you found a quick release as he was swift to follow. Depth and speed in perfect synchronicity left you both in a temporary tremble before you were set back down to your feet.

“Ten minutes, my truck-I’m taking my time with you next time.” You nodded, feeling him pull you in for one final kiss, before returning to his shift. You returned your own costume to an attempt at normalcy before joining your friends at the exit, their eyes looking to you with wonder.

“There you are-must have really got you good, huh?” Sarah asked as you slowly nodded.

“Definitely…”

And this was the final reason your relationship was a secret. You were best friend’s with his ex, Sarah. The idea of how Topper had been embedded between your legs in such depth and frequency would only hurt her. And even if she had been unfair to him with her relationship with John B and even if he had a right to move on just as she did, you also knew nobody would understand how you lusted for Topper. And tonight, under the guise of masks and costumes, you didn’t have to worry about hiding.

At least for tonight…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae

#topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #topper thornton fanfiction #topperthornton #topper thornton #austin north

64 notes · View notes

westywallowing · 2 years

Text

more of wes' dnf fic recs <3

alright you guys even though no one asked for it here are more of my dnf fic recs :] (pls be aware of readings and tags and remember that I am an adult so read at ur own risk lol) I'll put a 💌 emoji next to the fics that have some graphic/mature content!

"the spaces between words" by effervescentwolf 💌

George ever so slowly allows himself to be completely and utterly in love with Dream.

this has been one of my FAVS recently yall. Dream is just such a whipped sweetheart and is so patient with George. there's nothing more that I love than an unspoken understanding that sometimes verbalizing emotions is hard for people, but that doesn't mean they aren't there :) Affection is A++ here, so much fluff (read tags tho!)

"a brief inquiry into (real) relationships" by quarzfia

Or, Dream's misreads an invite to a wedding, and now has to fake a relationship with the boy he's fallen head over heels for.

look, I know we've all read our fair shares of fake relationship aus, but THIS. THIS IS WHERE ITS AT. I love how the author writes their relationship and how they interact with each other, it's the perfect mix of humor/wit and tenderness that makes it just 🥰

"The Sun Did Not Yet Know" by keepAPlaceForMe

George is the moon god and Dream is a little star who falls in love with him. Over the course of many millennia, he gains a body, a godliness, and a lover.

guys this was written by the loml @demigodfoolish and I still read it all the time, it was based off of my dnf sun and moon au and it is SO SOFT. SO FLUFFY. SO CUTE. please it deserve more hits and love and attention. if you love any writing with a shit tone of space/astronomy references then this is for you

"A Street Cat Named Patches" by lilchip

The cat always made her rounds to Dream's windowsill. It was the one day he followed her home that landed him on George's front lawn.

If you've been looking for a dnf getting together fic with the boys as cat dads, then LOOK NO MORE because here it is. this fic is so fluffy and cute and Dream is so delightfully nervous and caring. amazing. 10/10.

"anything you can do (I can do better)" by Not4typicalwritter

In which Dream and George are each parent of two very wonderfully smart and mischievous daughters who happen to be friends. Oh, and of course, two daughters who are completely sick and done with their stupid rivalry that always gets in the way of their friendship.

The plan? Get them together in time for Prom. Maybe then they'll stop being so annoying.

SINGLE DADS DNF WHO HAVE A PLAYFUL RIVALRY AND THEIR DAUGHTERS TRY TO SET THEM UP. guys I can't scream loud enough about this fic it is SO. GOOD. their rivalry is fucking hilarious and their daughters are very relatable and it's just such a good read. worth every word

"say the word and of course I'll stay" by didnt 💌

They broke up several years ago because George finished college in the states and had to go back home to the UK. It was less of a mutual decision to break up and more George panicking and dumping Dream over a phone call in the summer following George’s graduation.

Now that it’s been years, and George is back working a job in the US, he’s mildly horrified to find out that Dream works for the same company as he does, in the same building, in the same office. In the end, it's a case of realising that a lot of things might change, but the important parts stay the same.

okay okay HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE. I love this fic because even though there's angst, and past conflict, they've both aged and matured and (I think) handle the situation very well!! I love how the author has written this because it feels very real; even though you still love someone, time matters, and things don't just immediately click back into place. cute fumbling and slightly awkward encounters ensue but the ending is worth it :) a lovely fic by the amazing @didntstand check out their other fics too!!

"everywhere I go" by sootified 💌

George was convinced that he was the last person on earth after the dead started to come back and he hadn't seen another person for five months.

Turns out, he was wrong. Turns out, there is another person on earth. He grins too much and wheezes like a tea kettle, but there's another person.

okay this fic is definitely a more graphic fic rec of mine, but is SO worth the read. post-zombie apocalypse, George and Dream are some of the last alive. It's definitely one of those fics where the world is ending so the characters resort to humor to cope LMAO its so good. make sure to read the tags, but don't let the MCD tag deter you PLS. I don't want to spoil anything but,,, everyone ends up together and happy and (kind of) alive in the end so :) READ IT its one of the first fics I read in this fandom! if you love dystopian style world building then this is for you

"dance in the rain and my arms" by lazykitkat

Where George is a lonely rain god and the wind god Dream keeps coming up with excuses to be around him

another dnf Gods!au that I just LOVE so much. the way George is generally apathetic and just Chillin with immortality and Dream is so endearing and just wants to get to know him because he's pretty. its so wholesome and it has a part 2 that's just as good. 100/10 amazing read pls. written by the crazy talented @yourlazykitkat !

#mcyt #dnf #dreamnotfound #fanfics #fic recs #yeah guys i love all of these fics dearly #i am a chronic fanfic reader its all i do #if you read any of these recs please yell at me about it!!#and give all the authors lots of love <33

119 notes · View notes