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#looking forward to tomorrow:)
winnie-dump · 15 days
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He looked familiar ok
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Flagrant Favourism.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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frost-faerie · 7 months
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WHY DOES HE FUCKING KNOW THAT
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cryingatships · 11 months
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The moment ao3 comes back I'm gonna smooch its forehead and download every single one of my 1800+ bookmarks
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letswonderspirit · 6 months
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I haven’t drawn these guys in forever??
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viv-url · 8 months
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claudevain sketch dump ...
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bucksboobs · 29 days
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I’m sorry but we’re just going to have to accept that Buck lets Tommy call him Evan because it makes his tummy tingly, it makes his cheeks red, it makes him twirl his hair and kick his feet. He lets Tommy call him Evan because he likes it.
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sentientcave · 29 days
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Retirement Party
Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey
<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.
~3.2k
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When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.
After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”
The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.
Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”
“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”
“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”
“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”
John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”
“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”
You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.
"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."
"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."
John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."
"It's not my house."
He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."
You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."
Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.
John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.
Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.
"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"
You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."
"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"
"Yes."
"Didja want more?"
You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."
"I'd like to see ye com--"
"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."
"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."
"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."
"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."
"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.
Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"
"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."
You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”
The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.
Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.
You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”
John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.
“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”
You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”
It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,
He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”
His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”
“No more surprises planned?”
John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”
“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.
He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”
“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.
John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.
You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.
"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."
"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."
"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."
"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."
"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."
"King now," John points out.
"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."
"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.
"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.
"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"
"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."
"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."
"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.
"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”
Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”
You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.
As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.
You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.
Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.
"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."
He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."
"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."
"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."
"Just most?"
He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.
You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.
He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."
Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.
“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.
“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.
“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”
“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”
You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”
"Goodnight, doll.”
You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.
“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.
“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.
“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”
“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.
“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”
“John…”
He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.
“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”
“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”
"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.
"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."
"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."
"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.
"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."
"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."
Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."
"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."
He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."
You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.
"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."
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Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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aliencatart · 3 months
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so the story goes....
seriously such an amazing series and i'm going to be missing these kings very dearly
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egophiliac · 3 months
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new ride kamens dropped, rui, who is definitely a horobi homage; another cool choice, but at the same time, kinda wish it was someone else 'cuz now we got two zero-one homages with hayate's jin, when the trend had been one rider for each season until him, and people started claiming that takahashi must be playing favorites
aw, I was actually pretty jazzed to see it was Horobi! I think it opens up some interesting possibilities if it isn't only one-per after all, and I'm excited to see if there's gonna be something with him and Hayate or not. plus I just really like his design
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(also, not to be all cynical, but. this exists because of a corporate trend-hop with a franchise that is already sorta notorious for executive meddling. I would be...let's say very surprised if Takahashi had that level of control over what riders were included, versus being handed a list to work off of that the execs had already determined would appeal to their target demographic. c'mon.)
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hollowtones · 3 months
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Streams will hopefully pick up again next week once I have fewer work deadlines to juggle. Thanks for your patience.
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osamusriceballs · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 17 <3
Kenma x blowjobs
Warnings: NSFW, fem reader
Words: ~ 1k
Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day
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"Ahhh- slow down a bit, doll-"
His thighs clench under your fingers as he mumbles the words, and you take a deep breath through your nose as you slow down your pace. His long fingers are buried in your hair, occasionally pushing your head down and holding you in place when he's getting too close. Drool is coating your chin, your eyes watery at this point, and your throat clenches around him when he pushes too deep and makes you gag.
You look up at him, hoping not to look too much of a mess and instead somewhat hot, especially when you know that he's recording this. Kenma on the other hand knows that he doesn't need the recording to remember how you look like right now. Your lip gloss smeared on his cock, your hair no longer neatly done, but loose strands falling into your face and the straps of your bra falling down your shoulders, revealing a part of your chest seductively.
But what really makes this moment unforgettable for him, is your facial expression. He can see how much you enjoy it, see how eager you are to please him, to be his good girl- and he's certain that he's never seen a sight this hot before.
You swirl the tip of your tongue around his cock, a groan coming from the back of his throat as you keep on teasing his sensitive tip. "Just like that- you feel so good," he sounds surprisingly calm, but the way his hips slightly buck into your mouth reveal that he's everything but calm.
You groan, spit coating your chin as you bop your head and let the tip of his cock meet the back of your throat, knowing fully well that this will make you gag if you do it repeatedly, but still wanting to take as much of him into your mouth as you can. He moans, and the way you slowly increase your pace has him close his eyes for a few seconds to stay focused. "Ohh, fuck- you're way too good at this, I'm not gonna last long," his breath is rapid and shallow, his hand slightly pressing your head down just a bit more when you press your tongue flatly against the underside of his cock.
You let him use you, allowing his hands to guide your head up and down while he fucks your face. Your body feels hot, your mind dizzy from the slightest lack of oxygen, but hot desire rushes through your body at every single one of the unrestricted sounds that leave his lips.
"Gonna-" a groan leaves his lips, his mouth falling agape and his brows furrow when he holds your head in place as shoots his cum down your throat. You choke, but still try to swallow as much as you can, feeling the liquid filling up your mouth with a salty taste while he moans your name and twitches inside of your mouth. You swallow a few times around his cock until he releases a small whine, and you finally release him.
His eyes are wide while he watches how you clean his cock thoroughly, giving little kitten licks to the sensitive tip until you have all of his cum in your mouth and his cock is only glistening with your spit. A few moments pass before you finish up licking him clean and tucking him back into his pants, leaving no evidence of the sinful deeds prior. You can feel how his body tenses at every single touch of your hands, your effect on him undeniable. Kenma releases his grip on our hair, one of his hands now tilting your chin until you look up at him- and you get lost in his beautiful golden eyes.
"Come here." He suddenly gets up, his features unusual soft when he grabs your hands and helps you to get on your feet before he directs you to sit on the chair. His hand softly comes to your chin once again and rubs the spit away, a gentle smile coating his lips.
Kenma pecks your lips, shortly, a faint blush coating his cheeks now before he quickly turns around to face the multiple screens behind him. You can only see his back when he leans over the desk, the continuous clicks of the mouse and the sound of him typing on his keyboard accompanying him. The sounds you've already gotten so used to ever since he started his streamer career a few years ago and asked you to move in. "Here we go, " he mumbles when a big video finally shows up on the screen.
"It's all set up. We can start whenever you're ready." His soothing voice comes from the speaker, and you blush when you see yourself on the screen, your body only clad in the red lingerie he got for you, and Kenma, with his cat-like eyes watching you carefully with reddened cheeks as you sink to your knees in front of him and palm him through his boxers.
His body blocks the screen for a moment when he steps in front of you and rests his hands on your thighs to spread your legs. All your questions are answered when he kneels in front of you, getting comfortable on the ground before he pulls the chair closer until he's directly facing your panties. A mischievous glint sparks in his golden eyes when he looks up at you, the sounds of you sucking his cock now filling the room from the speakers behind, but you hear his next words clearly even through the noise.
"How about you relax and watch that video while I'm practicing for the next one?"
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eclec-tech · 6 months
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My microwave just died.
Died as in mwrohhhhhhhh-POP. Dead. Sounded like a transformer arcing in my kitchen. Me: banging my head against the kitchen cabinet
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cerise-on-top · 5 months
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I was the one to ask for the mortician ask and I loved it! I’m in school to become one and I just thought it would be fun since the job isn’t talked about much! So I have another request, how do you think Valeria, Laswell, Rudy, Alejandro whould act when they get jealous and/or their s/o is getting hit on? Thanks!!!!
-🍒
Hello! I'm glad you liked it! Becoming a mortician definitely sounds like a lot of work, but I'm wishing you lots of luck! May your future job be very fulfilling for you! Thank you for another request, this one was also pretty fun to do, but then again, I'm just glad I get to write for the characters people don't always write for! Especially the girls!
Alejandro, Rodolfo, Valeria and Laswell When Jealous
Alejandro: Although he knows you’re loyal and would never cheat on him, something does make his blood boil as soon as he sees someone else getting a bit too friendly with you. You’re his and his only, that’s something just about anyone crossing him will come to understand eventually. While he does not want the whole world to know you’re together, he thinks there’s nothing wrong with showing people such when he feels potentially threatened. Walks up to you, uses the most embarrassing nicknames on you and slings an arm around you. Although he usually gets over it fairly quickly, forgetting about the perpetrator as soon as they leave you alone, from time to time, when he’s had a rough day, he might hold a grudge for just a tad bit longer. Even when you’re home, he’ll be a bit more clingy than usual, always has his hands on you whenever he can. The only real reason he can think of where he doesn’t need to feel your attention on him might be when you’re using the bathroom, but other than that, you’re gonna have to deal with him. If you don’t like being touched then he’ll just be standing next to you. Any excuse to spend as much time with you as possible. You’ll get a lot more I love yous out of him, and he does want you to say them back. Alejandro is by no means an insecure person, especially not when it comes to your relationship, but it’s still nice to hear that your loved one won’t leave you for some douchebag you met in the boondocks. Reassure him still, even without being prompted to, and he’ll calm down eventually, releasing you from his grasp. You can tease him about being jealous, but, in the heat of the moment, he might be a little bit mean. He won’t lash out, but might raise his voice for a word or two before lowering it again. Give him some calming touches and spend some time with him alone and he’ll go back to being his usual self in no time, though.
Rodolfo: As soon as he sees someone flirting with you, it can go either of two ways: He’ll either stand next to you and join the conversation, making it quietly known that you’re taken, or he’ll watch for a moment, giving the perpetrator mean glares where they can see him until he thinks the conversation is taking a turn for the worse and will tell the person off. He may not be the tallest, most intimidating man if we go by looks alone, but he’s a sergeant major, he can hold his own and be scary if he needs to be. Rudy gets a bit broody once he’s properly jealous and will stay that way for some time. He gets over it on his own too, don’t worry, but it will take significantly longer if you leave him alone. He won’t mind, but he will appreciate it if you actually approach him, maybe have a chat with him about something while you’re at it. He goes quiet, fully aware he’s jealous and the fact that it’s over essentially nothing. Like Alejandro, he trusts you enough to know you’d never even consider someone that wasn’t him as long as you were together, but still. Sometimes he avoids you because he’s being childish, other times he’ll just stand next to you and try to garner your attention that way. Once you’re alone, he just wants you for himself and will try to strike up a conversation with you about anything he can think of. The more effort you put into trying to keep that conversation going, the quicker he’ll recover. Rudy isn’t a very physically affectionate person normally, but he’ll hint at how you should give him a hug and maybe a kiss too. Since he loves physical affection from the ones he’s close with, it’s a surefire way to calm him down more quickly. Put his face in between your hands, put your foreheads together, tell him how much you love him and how he’s the only one for you and you’ll get yourself a smiley, softer guy. Works like a charm.
Valeria: Not at all one for PDA, but not above telling someone to fuck off either in her usual way. Will also make death threats at the person flirting with you. If she sees you’re uncomfortable with the unwanted attention then she’ll send their remains to their family in a cardboard box. If Valeria wasn’t so scary when mad, it would be kind of funny how pissy she gets when jealous. While she knows very well that you won’t leave her, she absolutely loathes any and all competition there might be. Yes, she won’t sling her arm around you in public, yes, she will shoot anyone who looks at you a certain way for longer than two seconds. As mentioned before, she becomes cranky when jealous, but will also just seek you out. Your attention is for her to enjoy, and you’ll give it to her. If she sees you’re scared she’ll try to tone it down a little bit, but her discomfort will be made known to you. What do you even think of such lowlife? Disgusting creatures that are worth nothing, Valeria is a much better match for you in any regard. Can and absolutely will talk your ear off. Not very insecure either, but insects should stay away from you, in her humble and honest opinion. Behind closed doors you can be a bit more physically affectionate with her, drape yourself over her and use her lap like a throne, singing her praise. This is among the few times where she won’t mind too much physical affection. The more the better, the more you adore her the more easily she’ll return to being her usual, mocking self. When she’s jealous she won’t mock you, she’ll mock whoever made her jealous and be so incredibly mean about it, it’s honestly a bit concerning. However, you get to hear her use more Spanish words to better articulate what she means. Just smile and nod, even if you don’t exactly know what she’s talking about, she appreciates you listening. Agreeing with her is also a good way of calming her down, as well as ensuring that person might live to see another day.
Laswell: Although she’s not a big fan of PDA either, when she can feel the anger bubble up inside of her, she’ll actually put a hand on your shoulder or grab your wrist. Just small gestures that show you’re close with her. Might drag you away if she genuinely does not like that person. But if she’s just jealous because you’re not talking to her, which, granted, barely ever happens, then she’ll just watch the conversation unfold for a bit before butting in. If you weren’t enjoying yourself in the first place, you can count on her to get you away from the creep. If you were having fun, then you can just talk it out like adults, she prefers it that way too, actually. When she’s properly jealous she’ll withdraw herself. While she might not actively avoid you, she tries not to get in your way. Being jealous over essentially nothing is childish, and she’s an older woman, so she really has no reason to act that way. Might become a bit more passive aggressive towards you, but she really means nothing by it. But for that to happen she needs to be extremely ticked off and jealous, otherwise she’ll just keep her usual cool. In her case, since she, in general, isn’t a big fan of too much physical affection, being overly physically affectionate with her might just annoy her some more. Show her your affection through the smaller things, such as baking her a pie or just trying to engage in conversation with her. Even though she’ll love it when you simply sit next to her in silence as well. You want to spend time with her instead of other people, she can recognise that. Laswell appreciates that tremendously. You can also just give her some chocolate if you want to make her feel better. Doesn’t even need to be anything big or fancy, but some pralines definitely wouldn’t hurt. Overall she’s just glad you’d rather spend time with her than some stranger who could never treat you as well as she treats you. You both recognise that, you can both work from there, and you can both be calmer and happier knowing that.
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ducktracy · 10 days
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this might be one of my favorite "Wile E physics" gags because of how mundane and nonchalant it is. no visual or comedic fluff to gum up the works
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b4kuch1n · 5 months
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digital ink comm round 1 done! for @cosmic-cd, @chirping-astronaut, Gray D, @helianthyme, @holliehives, and @trucbiduleschouettes. I'll take tomorrow off, and then ink comms will be open again. please keep an eye out for that!
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