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#there's also the whole thing with how fast people are moving on from groups too so like
samandcolbyownme · 19 hours
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Summary: After years of being split apart from your group, due to being taken and relocated by the Saviors, you run in to not only one familiar face, but specifically, the one you were searching for this whole time.
Warnings: strong language, apocalypse setting, swearing, mentions of knives, guns, bows, other weapons, mentions of killing (both humans and zombies), some descriptive text, reader gets taken by the saviors, mentions of scars, fighting, AGE GAP - friends to lovers, reader likes Daryl, Daryl hides the fact that he likes reader, some flirting, nothing too spicy lol
Word count: 4.9k | not edited also my first Daryl fic so be nice :)
A/N - I’m writing this for me, yes, but I’m also this for the ones who have a problem, I mean… are attracted to men old enough to be their father, so please do NOT read if age gap relationships make you uncomfortable! This also is more or less my version of the walking dead, the group meets Negan, but not like in the show.
FIVE • YEARS • AGO
There was no denying that you were Daryl’s favorite person to go on runs with, anyone that just showed up could tell you that.
You were fast. Efficient. Very get in and get out type of girl. You didn’t fuck around, and Daryl loved that - but he’d never tell you that himself.
He also swore to never tell you that he wanted you around him because you made him happy in ways that he didn’t really like to talk about.
You were like a breath of fresh air to him, you picked up what he liked and what he didn’t like almost right away, you were one of the very few people that he didn’t get tired of being around all the time, hence why you join him every time he goes on a run.
He wasn’t much of a talker, the very first two runs together, you got a few mumbles out of him, mainly telling you where to go and when to look out.
But, that was until your third run of many run with Daryl. It would be silent, and he would almost scare you with just talking outright.
It wasn’t more than a, ‘how’s your day?’
Or maybe a, ‘ya sleep last night? Y’look tired’
You would always give him a quick, straight to the point response, ‘tossed and turned all night, might need a new blanket or somethin’
Or you would tease him slightly with something along the lines of, ‘Days better now that I’m out runnin’ around with my bestie.’
He says he hated when you called him that, but he would always chuckle and try to hide his smile by pointing out something ahead.
You would go with it, rolling your eyes subtly before you squint, “Daryl, I think you’re seeing things.” You look over at him, “or you’re just scared to talk to me.”
He’d scoff, “Ain’t scared of nothin’, darlin’.”
All you could do was smile and look away, mainly to hide the red on your cheeks from being spotted.
It really wasn’t that Daryl was scared, it was just, as slightly embarrassing as he thinks, he didn’t know how to talk to you.
He would always try to remind himself that you aren’t this delicate little flower, you can handle yourself. If you couldn’t, he would have never stumbled upon you.
You both would keep moving, not really stopping unless a walker or something came out of the tree line. The more runs you added to the list, the more you realized that you were patient enough to wait on him.
You really did have all the time in the world.
Were you also young and twenty one years old? Sure. But in this world, you’d always like to think, What’s it matter, really?
You had to roll with what you found, and you got lucky that day Daryl found you under a fallen tree - long story short, he helped you out and as soon as he knew your name, he couldn’t help but want to bring you home with him.
And that’s what he did.
Daryl has also spoken, well, more or less make comments to Rick about the girl from the woods. He’d beat around the bush as his eyes followed you across the way, watching as Carol showed you around, “y’know that girl I brought in?”
Rock would nod, “Y/n?”
A smirk would play sure Daryl’s lips as he replays you taking out two walkers at the same time, “Little young, though. Ain’t she?”
Rick shook his head, giving Daryl’s shoulder a squeeze as he stood up, “You deserve what ever makes you happy, Daryl. We make our own rules now.”
——
“There was a convenient store on the corner of one of these roads.” You look at Daryl then glancing behind you, “I figured.. if we don’t find it today.” You glance back and then forward, “We can try and hit it another day.”
“Would ya stop fuckin’ doin’ that?” He looks behind you and then at you, “really freakin’ me out today, y/n. What’s goin’ on with ya?”
“Sorry.” You sigh, shaking your head, “I just have this really weird feeling like we should have just stayed back today.”
“You wanna go back?” Daryl stops as you take a few steps ahead before turning around. He nods back, “We’re not that far away, if y’feel safer goin’ back-“
“I’m not letting you go out there alone.”
“I’m not goin’ back.” Daryl was stubborn, but so were you, “Then so am I.”
He scoffs quietly, shaking his head as he nudges you with his elbow, indicating you to walk with him. You turn, staying a little bit closer to Daryl as you make your way down the road.
About an hour away, you stand up from the last of the boxes in a semi fallen down shed, “Nothing.” You turn to Daryl and he shakes his head, “Got the same over here.”
“No where?” You look around the room and he shrugs, “should prolly just head back, it’s gonna get dark here soon.”
The weird feeling you had from earlier returns and you sigh, “Not to be annoying, but I can’t shake this feeling.”
Daryl clenches his jaw, “Alright, it’s alright.” He picks up his crossbow, “C’mon now.”
It’s the way Daryl makes your heart warm with the simple, nonchalant ways he makes sure you’re okay, trying to make sure you’re calm without actually letting you know that that is what he’s doing, but you know.
You’ve come to know Daryl better than anyone in the few short months you’ve been at Alexandria.
“Did somethin’ happen or, what?” Daryl asks as he glances over at you, trying to keep up with your slightly faster pace.
You shrug, “I just feel like something is going to happen, Daryl.” You look over at him, “Something bad.”
——
Your feeling was proven to be worth something because the moment you entered through the gates, you were gunned down, Daryl, too.
“Gimme your guns.” A tall man says in a sing-songy tone as he bends down, looking you right in your face, “And your cross bow.” He looks over to Daryl and Daryl wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The man stands up, walking over to lean down in Daryl’s face, “Now.”
“Y/n. Do it.” Rick says catching your attention. Only your eyes move towards Rick, hands up as a gun is pointed right next to his temple, “Daryl. You, too.”
“I’d listen to your boss man, alright. I don’t feel like killing anyone today, which is..” the man tilts his head, scratching at his temple, “Odd, but anyone. Consider this your one time act of kindness because I can promise you, from here on out, ain’t gonna be purdy.”
You tilt your head, taking your gun from your shoulder and laying it down. You take your pistol and set it down next to the rifle, “That’s all I have.”
“Mm.” The man tilts his head, “I don’t believe you.” He grips your bicep hard, causing you to yelp as he yanks you forward and onto your feet.
“Let her fuckin’ go!” Daryl yells, and you know he’s already trying to get up, but the moment you get to look back, there’s a gun in his face, blocking his view of you.
You’re thrown up against the side of the old and dusty moving truck, groaning as your head ricochetes off the side with a thump, “Fuck, ow!”
You bring your hand up, pulling it away to see red when you feel a wetness on your skin.
“You mother fu-“ Daryl starts to yell, but the man puts a gun to your temple, “I’m just trying to do my job, now shut the fuck up or I’ll really give you something to fucking yell about.”
You keep your eyes on Daryl, watching as his eyes quickly move between you and the man holding you hostage.
“I’ll keep it professional.” He taps your shoulder, “Arat. Come check her for weapons.”
You were scared shitless.
You didn’t want to die, or anyone else to die.
Who are these people, you thought as the woman behind you slid her hands roughly over your body, “Simon. This is her.”
You head shot up as Simon, supposedly, laughs, “No fucking way.” He steps back, “Negan is going to love this.”
“Who’s Negan?” Rick asks and Simon turns around slowly to look at Rick, arms spreading out to his sides slowly, “We’re all Negan.”
Simon points to you with his thumb, “Load her up.”
The uproar that happens within your people is instant and there’s a shot fired into the air, making you flinch.
“That’s e-fuckin’-nuff.” Simon yells, “The girl is coming with us, and there’s-“ he raises his voice, “Nothing you can do about it.”
He walks you back to the truck, motioning with his gun for you to get in.
You take one last look at Daryl before you start to get in, heading Simon chuckle as he sighs, “Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t. We’ll be back with more orders. Until then, stay the fuck here or more we will kill your beloved.. whatever she is to you.”
Simon looks at Daryl, “You got that Robin Hood?”
Daryl holds his heated stare onto him and that’s the last thing you see before the door shuts.
——
“Well, well, fuckin’ well. What do we have here?” A deep voice boasts from behind you. You wiggle your wrists and close your eyes, feeling a presence move around you to your front.
You open your eyes and you’re met with a rugged dude in a leather jacket, a baseball bat that’s wrapped in barbed wire tightly secured in his fist, “You must be the girl who knows her way around those dead fucks out there.”
“What are you talking about?” You look up, eyes meeting the tall, older man and he just chuckles, “A few of my men saw you take on a group, I dunno, five or six deep..” he points to you with each word, “..All. on. your. own.”
You shrug, “I’ve been out there a while.”
“And how longs a while, sweetheart?” The man asks, squatting down in front of you.
“Two years with a group, three on my own.” You say quietly, your brain reminding you about the night had no other choice but to go off on your own.
“Holy shit.” The man shakes his head, “You hearin’ this shit, Simon?”
“Arat said it was her. I can get Gavin to confirm, too.” Simon answers and the man nods, standing up to pull a chair over in front of you, “If I untie you, you promise you’ll play nice?”
You were disgusted. You wanted to go home.
You wanted Daryl. You wanted Daryl more than anything.
You nod, hands gripping the arm rests as his knife slides between your skin and the rope, flicking the blade upward to get it to cut open.
He repeats it to the other side and leans back, “You seem like you have a pretty name.” He tilts his head, fingers rubbing over the stubble on his chin, “Do you have a pretty name, sweetheart?”
“Y/n.”
“Y/n.” The man repeats in a whisper, “Damn. That is pretty.” He shakes his head, smirking as his eyes take in your, very nervous figure sitting in the chair, “Look.”
The man leans forward, “I’ll tell you this, alright.” You keep your eyes off of him, which seemed to upset him. His voice grew louder and his hand reached up to tightly grip your chin, “Look. At. Me. When I am talking to you.”
You force your eyes to his and he picks up speaking where he stopped, “You’re a little spit fire out there, okay. Which mean, you’re a delicacy to your little asshole groupies back at that shithole, what was it called? Alex- some for bullshit?”
“Alexandria.” You mumble out, keeping your eyes on his. He tilts his head back, his hand still gripping your chin, “Oh, oh. Right. Yes. Alexandria.”
The door behind you opens and the man drops his hand, “Gavin, my man. I need you to tell me if this is the girl you say in the woods a few weeks ago.”
The man stands up, spinning the chair around for, presumed, Gavin to see you. His eyes move over your body, “Does she have a tattoo or some sort of mark on the back of her left arm?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“When she lifted her arm, it-“
“Lift your arm for me, sweetheart.” The man spins you towards him and you have no other choice but to oblige, you strongly feel that the other choice is death, which you can not allow to happen now.
You pull your shirt sleeve up and the man scoffs, “Bing-fucking-o.” The man shakes his head, “Get a team together, we’re going to meet the people of Alexandria earlier than expected.”
He looks to you, “Take her up to a room. A good room. She hasn’t done anything to not deserve it yet.” He winks at you and you look down as you feel a hand grab your bicep to lift you to your feet.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
You stop, turning to look at the man with the baseball bat resting on his shoulder, “Who are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He walks over, tilting his head as he looks down at you, “I’m Negan.”
——
Your first day here was scary. You cried yourself to sleep, worried both about Daryl and the rest of Alexandria.
By the next morning, You were itching to get out, constantly looking for a way to escape, but they had so many people, no matter where you looked, you had eyes on you at all times.
To your surprise, the last week you spent with what you heard them call themselves, The Saviors, wasn’t in a stone cell like you pictured them doing the second you left that room on the first day.
You really didn’t know why.
You kill zombies, big deal. Doesn’t everyone else on this fucked up planet?
“Come with me, honey pie.” Simon says as he pulls you along with him, “Your time to shine.”
You’re taken outside, squinting at the brightness of the sun shining down from above. You couldn’t help but take a deep breathe, it’s the first time you’ve been outside in days.
“Get in and scoot over.” Simon commands and you climb up into the truck, your eyes meeting Negan’s as he steps up to sit into the passengers seat.
You don’t say a word to him. You just face forward as Simon smooshes you between him and Negan as he closes the door.
“So you and Robin Hood, huh?” Simon asks, referring to Daryl. You shake your head in response.
“Listen, sweetie. One thing we do around here, is answer people questions, with the words we learned how to speak. Got it?”
“Yes sir.” You say, clearing your throat, “No, me and.. Robin Hood are not a thing.”
“Seems to care about you like he does. You catch onto that Negan? The way he wanted to rip your throat out yesterday?” Simon chuckles, “Aw the look in his, man. I tell you what though, if looks could kill, you would have been dead.”
“Gonna have to take more than a nasty look to kill me.” Negan chuckles deeply, “Oh looky here.” He points, looking over at you as he sings, “honey.. we’re home.”
Your heart was racing as you seen Rosita motion to open the gate.
You watch her face shift into a shocked look when she caught glimpse of you through the windshield.
As you drive in, coming to a stop, you already see Daryl, front and center with Rick.
“C’mon.” Simon motions to you and you slide over, allowing him to help you down before you follow him around the truck. He pulls you closer to him, the click sending a shiver down your spine.
“Alright. Here’s the deal. You all want your badass, Duffy the zombie slayer black, but I don’t know.” Negan glances back at you, “She could be useful to me.”
You see Rick tighten his grip on Daryl’s vest and you send him a loving look.
“That thought didn’t even cross my mind, but you know what, how about this, If you want y/n back, give us half of your food today, and I want, we’ll make it easy.. ten guns by next week.”
“T-ten guns?” Rick asks baffled, “by next week? Negan that’s.. don’t you think that’s a little impossible?”
“Fine, make it fifteen by Friday, or you can say goodbye to the only chance you all actually have at surviving.” Negan points to you, “As you can she, she’s alive and well, now.”
Negan motions to the truck, “Let’s go.”
You shake your head and Simon grabs your arm roughly and you pull back, letting your fear get the best of you, “No, please. Nono, please no! No!”
Your pleads only set everyone on your side off, yelling and trying to push past the wall of Saviors.
Knives are drawn and you’re held to Negan’s chest, “Listen here! I make the rules. I have something you want and now, you’re going to go off and fuckin’ get me what I want. I’m done negotiating.”
“Negan, please. Just let y/n stay an I pro-“
Negan cuts Rick off, “You promise what, Rick? Huh? You already doubted yourselves with getting ten-“ He gasps, “Sorry, I mean fifteen by next Friday.”
He laughs, shaking his head, sighing as he brings his bat, Lucille, next for your face, “what makes you think you can handle the load of getting this thing here back.”
Daryl’s eyes squint as Negan calls you, this thing.
You swallow, glancing around.
You can take on six walkers, but not this many saviors, the walkers didn’t have rifles pointed at the people you’ve come to love and care for.
“Why are-“ Negan scoffs, “Why are we even still discussing this? You know what. Fine.” He pushes you to the back of the truck and you stumble, silently begging for help.
“If you’re going to cause this big of a fuss instead of just doing as I say..” Negan looks at you, “Then no one can.”
He shrugs, pointing Lucille at the open back, “Get in, or I kill someone.”
——
P R E S E N T • D A Y
You held your breath as you pushed your back up against the tree, waiting for the stray walker to move past you, knife at the ready just in case.
You slip around the tree, opposite way from the dead before you continue your journey through the woods.
It’s been, almost five years since you were left stranded in the middle of god knows where by Negan and his Saviors.
You weren’t even sure if they were still a thing or not, but jokes on them, you’re still alive.
And you’re full of fight.
You stopped at the river, bending down to feel the cool water on your fingertips. You’ve been walking all day, and you just needed to take a second.
You look up, taking in the scenery for a few moments before it all starts to becomes, familiar.
You stand up, looking around as your heart starts to pound. You shake your head, laughing slightly as you bend down to grab your bag.
If this is the river you were thinking of, then this river runs directly past your grandfathers cabin, and you can only hope that if Daryl was alive and out there looking for you, that he comes this way.
He should know about this, you stumbled upon it while on a run the one day. You remember about it, but all you knew was that it was next to the river that looked really pretty when the sun was setting, and it still does.
You only had about two hours of sunlight left, and you didn’t know how far you had to go yet, or even if you were going in the right direction.
If this cabin was here, maybe you could finally get a decent nights sleep, that is if it isn’t destroyed by walkers and the storms that plow through.
“I’m going to go get some more firewood.” A woman’s voice sounds through the trees. You stop, moving, furrowing your brows as you try and listen, but she’s already moving, walking away from the small building.
Your cabin.
You feel like you could throw up.
You turn around, trying to see if you can get a glimpse of who she was talking, too, but nothing.
“Raise your hands and turn around slowly.”
You whip around, catching her off guard before her face settles, “Holy shit.” Carol laughs slightly, “Daryl is going to lose his mind.”
She pulls you into a hug and you hear her sniffle, “oh my god, look at you.” She leans back, hands sliding over your hand and down your face, “You grew up.”
You smile slightly, your mind going back to who’s in the cabin, “Is he in there?”
“Every chance he got.” She shakes her head, “So much has happened.” You see the pain in her eyes but you opt to keep things happy right now, “we can talk later. I want to see Daryl first.”
She nods, brushing hair from your face, “Im so happy you found your way back.”
“It was hell, but right now, totally worth it.” You take a deep breath, “You go in first.”
She nods, walking a head of you as she leads you back towards the cabin, “Hey Daryl.” Carol calls as she smaller back at you, “I found something that you’re going to want to see.”
You stand by the fire, the glow illuminates you as you stand there waiting to see his face for the very first time in five years.
The feelings you had, never went away.
“What’d ya fi-“ His face falls and his arms go limp by his sides as he shakes his head, “No fuckin’ way.”
Tears well up in your eyes as Daryl slowly steps down off the porch, “No fuckin’ way.” He looks at Carol and back to you before quickly making his way over to you.
“Where the hell ya been?” He grabs you, pulling you into his chest tight, “I thought you were dead, I-.” He leans back, looking over your slightly older looks.
“Negan told us that he watched you get attacked by walkers.” Carol chimes in, finishing what Daryl couldn’t, “He brought back your necklace, there was blood on it.. we didn’t..”
You keep your hands on Daryl, your fingers moving under the sleeve of his jacket, “Negan snapped that necklace off my neck before they dumped me in the middle of nowhere.”
Daryl scoffs, pulling you closer to rest his chin on your head. Carol smiles as she watches the affectionate radiate off of him.
“They drove me way past the city, too. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they drugged me or something because I was out for most of the trip.”
You feel Daryl’s grip tighten with your words and you shake your head, laying a hand on his bicep, “So much happened.”
You think back to all the stuff you had to do just to make it back to here, cringing at yourself.
“Ya hungry?” Daryl asks changing the subject and you nod, “Starving.”
——
Since the minute you found them, Daryl hasn’t left your side, and Dog right by his.
You were able to handle the news of the deaths and destruction among your group and homes, it hurt to hear, but it’s better that you know how than walking in expecting everything to be all sunshine and rainbows.
ou cried, but there was one question you needed the answer to.
“Are the Savior’s gone?” You looked up at Carol as she looks to Daryl. Your attention moves to him and he nods, “Ah, yeah. Yeah. But..”
“What?”
“Negan is at Alexandria.”
You’re on your feet, “What.”
“It’s only tem-“
You turn, walking away from Carol as she tries to explain, but you walk over to a tree, pressing your hand into it.
As you take a few deep breathes, you feel someone walking up to you, “I just need a minute.” You tilt your head, closing your eyes as you swallow the feeling of wanting to puke away.
“S’alot to process.” Daryl mumbles, unsure of what to do, “Take your time.”
Do you resent him now?
Are you going to leave again?
He wanted you to know everything, but he wouldn’t have if that meant you leaving again.
“Daryl?” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks, “Sorry I just..” he shakes his head, “please don’t leave me again.”
“Leave you again?” You laugh slightly, letting out a sigh, “Why would you think that I’d leave you? I’ve been looking for you.”
“I haven’t stopped. I came here because I-“
You smirk slightly, “Because you actually paid attention to your bestie?”
He gives you a small smirk, shoulders heaving as he laughs ever so slightly, “You’ve changed..” Daryl brushes his hand over your hair, his thumb gently brushing over your face, His brows furrow, “when did you get this?”
His finger brushes over the scar on your top lip, “Did someone do this t’you?”
“One of those assholes that pushed me out of the car, hit my face on a rock.” You shake your head, “It’s just a scar, Daryl.”
Which was one of many you have received.
“Sorry I-“
“Don’t. Don’t do that.” You shake your head, “What happened to me wasn’t your fault, okay.”
All he does is nod but you frown slightly, “Have I ever told you that I liked you?”
“I don’t think you’d come on runs with me if ya didn’t.” Daryl looks at you and you tilt your head, “No, like..” you bite your lip and sigh.
He laughs slightly, “M’old enough to be your daddy, y/n.” You smirk up at him, getting ready to say something but he pulls you towards him, “Watch out.”
Natural instinct, you have your knife in your hand within a second and you both swing around, the blades of your knives entering the dead’s skull in unison.
You look at the knives and back to Daryl, “Either way I look at it.” You pull your knife from the walker, “You and I will always have unfinished business to take care of.”
Daryl shakes his head as he withdrawals his knife, “You think?”
You lay your hand on his chest, “I know.”
You couldn’t let yourself feel what you’ve pushed through, but both Carol and Daryl can see that.
“Hi, boy.” You bend down to pet Dog, your shirt riding up to reveal a slightly bigger scar than on your lip. Daryl’s eyes fixate on it right away and he clenches his jaw.
Before he can ask, you stand up, “You fix up everything?”
“Yeah, go take a look.” Daryl sniffles and walks towards Carol as you walk into the cabin. Memories of growing up here flood through, almost breaking that barrier until Dog pushes between your legs, whining as he trots in.
“Do you need anything?” Carol asks walking up beside you. You shake your head, hesitating to look over at her at first, “No, no. I’m good.”
“We can head back to Alexandria in the morning.” She rubs your back, “It’s really good to have you back.”
You smile, nodding, “It’s really nice to not be alone.”
“What happened out there?”
You shake your head sluggishly, “I don’t-“
“Okay.” She says quickly as Daryl walks in. You look up at him, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” You walk over to where your bag is and sit down.
You bring your knees to your chest, eyes focusing on Dog as he glows in the light of the fire.
A few moments later, Daryl’s footsteps move closer to you. He stays silent as he moves to sit next to you. He brings his arm out, laying it around your back as he pulls you into his side.
You immediately fall into him, your head on his chest, arm around his torso. He inches back, just enough to lean against the wall for support.
Daryl looked down at you, gently playing with strands of your now long hair, it was just a little past your shoulders when you were separated.
You lost weight from having to scavenge for any food that was safe to eat.
He knew what you went through was tormenting you, he just wanted you to know that you aren’t alone.
“Look at me, y/n.”
You roll over into your back, head in his lap as you stare up at him.
“When you’re ready to tell someone, m’here f’ya.”
You close your eyes as his hand strokes over your hair. You haven’t felt this safe in a while, so you were just trying to soak it all in without having to worry every single second of the day and most nights.
“I love you.” Daryl whispers, “Should’ve told you that years ago.”
“It’s about time you say those words to me, Daryl Dixon.” You sit up, keeping your chest on his arm as you lean in, “I love you.”
——
I started to hate this towards the end but I NEEDED to get this off of my chest. I hope you enjoyed. As always, I love you so much. Thank you for reading! 🖤
likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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hwiyoungies · 11 months
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there's a good example for this whole age "discourse" thing. say it wasn't kpop but rather some disney star, let's go with miley cyrus when she was doing hannah montana, she was 13-18 when she was doing that show, a show that was crearly meant for an audience of a similar age, so if any adult was investing any big amount of time of that it did raise some eyebrows because why are you watching a show that is meant for kids when there's content made for you (there's a lot of nuance within that as well but still). sure you could've enjoyed the songs, maybe watch the show with a kid from your family but you never invested any more time on it besides that because you were not the target audience. the difference with kpop is that they're putting kids of the same age range miley was when doing that show, but the target audience is not the same, it's adults, it's whoever wants to consume kpop, so at surface it seems like there is not any issues with it because, hey, if i'm the target audience why can't i enjoy this? why can't i spend my day enjoying this content made by teenagers even if i'm an adult? if you take all the context out it's odd no matter how you put it. "but context matters!!!!" sure, it does, but shouldn't the safety of the teenagers matter more? shouldn't we be more worried about why these companies keep debuting younger and younger kids instead of if we're being accused of being a weirdo? like ask yourself why is it weird to possibly like a disney show but not weird to like a kpop group with teens the same age as the disney star as an adult
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pocket-deer-boy · 6 months
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This is just a personal pet peeve of mine but i feel like a lot of online art tutorials overstate the importance of stuff like guidelines to get “correct” anatomy every single time and while those are typically really good handgrips for beginners we should also tell beginners about gesture drawing. Like maybe i’m being too animatorbrained here but being able to pump out a pose in anywhere from 15 seconds to 2 minutes and quickly move onto the next drawing without lingering on every little mistake is a really really good way at getting good at drawing people proportions quickly. If you make mistakes fast you learn from them fast. So here’s a little exercise:
Sit down, grab some reference images, draw ten poses in twenty minutes (or do ten poses in ten minutes if you’re feeling adventurous or confident) and take a step back and look at your work after the fact. Be sure to move from drawing to drawing quickly once your timer is done. Pretend you’re in a model drawing class and the model has already changed pose whenever your timer hits - finish up whatever lines you were drawing, move on to looking at what the model is doing now.
You will make a lot of shitty drawings, of course, but that’s not so bad. You only spent a minute or two making each one. Focus on the drawings you do like, and look at them as a whole.
Look at all the drawings together and how they fit together on the page. Look at little details and lines you’re proud of. Take note of things you found difficult to get right in such a short time. Take note of the things you liked doing. Do the exercise again, and focus in on the things you want to improve or explore.
Maybe you want to focus on how the torso conveys its weight on the legs. Maybe you want to focus on how shoulders and arms bend around the neck. Maybe you want to focus on how to convey depth on the torso. Maybe you can learn something more about how to draw a body if you only draw using sharp lines and angles. Maybe you can learn something more if you only draw using squiggly, overlapping lines. Maybe you can learn more about how to draw a body if you only fill out the shadows with thick, quick lines. Congratulations! You’re not just learning how to draw a body, but you’re now also exploring your tastes!
This is a fine exercise to do alone, but it’s a lot more fun to do as an activity with a small group so you get to discuss the art you made together.
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 
He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.
When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"
"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."
Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 
He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"
The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."
"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."
"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."
You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.
"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."
"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."
Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 
By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.
"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."
Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 
Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."
And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.
--------------------------
For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 
He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 
"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"
"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"
"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."
They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.
That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."
"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 
"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."
As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 
Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 
Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.
He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.
On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 
On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."
Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."
A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 
"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."
"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 
"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 
He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."
You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."
"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 
"Okay. Bob."
He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"
When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."
-------------------------
You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 
"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."
You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"
"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.
You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 
Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"
"Yes."
The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 
"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"
Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."
"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.
"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."
"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.
"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 
But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.
On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.
I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.
He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 
He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.
Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.
It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."
Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.
He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 
"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 
His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 
"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 
"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 
You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."
Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"
After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.
"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.
You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."
Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."
This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 
"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 
He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."
Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."
He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"
"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."
Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."
Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 
He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 
"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 
Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 
"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.
"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 
You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 
"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 
"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.
"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"
Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"
You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"
Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.
Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 
"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 
"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 
"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.
"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 
"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.
"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 
Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.
Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"
You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 
And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."
"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 
But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.
"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"
"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."
"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.
Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."
He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.
"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.
Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 
Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 
"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.
----------------------------
Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.
You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.
You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.
You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 
You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 
"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 
The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 
You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 
Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.
"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 
"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."
You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."
Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"
You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 
The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."
You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"
His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."
You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."
He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"
As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."
Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."
"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 
You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."
Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 
He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."
He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"
He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."
You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 
As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"
"Okay."
He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.
---------------------------
Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.
"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 
"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 
"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."
Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."
Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 
"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"
"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.
Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 
"Lieutenant Floyd."
He smiled softly. "Good morning."
"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.
You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"
He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."
Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."
--------------------------
You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes." 
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
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haeryna · 5 months
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first time that i called you mine (that wasted summer) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆。 ゚☁︎。 ⋆。 ゚☀︎。 ⋆。 ゚
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summary: suguru figures out he loves you the summer when you're both fifteen. satoru calls you his a few months after. when you finally realize it, there's nothing left to call yours. ↪ a continuation of this drabble
tw: angst, referenced abandonment, homophobia, implied mild sexual content, reader calls satoru a manwhore (affectionate), swearing, the author loves parentheses a concerningly large amount, not proofread teehee
notes: title taken from loote's wasted summer. reader is a teenager, along with satoru, suguru, and shoko. banner from @/cafekitsune
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Suguru is only six years old when he falls in love with you.
At first, it was entirely childish. When he saw you for the first time, tears streaming down your cheeks by the creek he'd explore with Satoru, he liked feeling needed. He liked how you'd clung to him so desperately, and selfishly, he liked having something he didn't share with Satoru.
(He should have known that whatever was Suguru's inevitably also became Satoru's)
He knew he loved you when you were eight, bravely defending Satoru from a group of bratty kids who were calling him slurs before Satoru had even knew what love was. He knew he loved you when you were twelve and crying for him when Suguru got into his first fist fight, sniffling as you patched up the bloody scrapes after.
But this was different.
"Sugu, sit still!" you hissed, as he squirmed uncomfortably on the lumpy sofa that resided in his basement. You were fifteen, and tired of Suguru complaining about how the nearest piercer was a two hour drive away. In one hand you brandished a piercing gun; in your other, the piercings that were meant to go into his earlobes. Besides you, Satoru gleefully filmed Suguru's discomfort.
"Are you sure that's sanitary? Why are we doing this because you're bored, can't you experiment on Satoru first?" Suguru shot back, leaning away from the piercing gun.
"You're such a big baby, you've been complaining about your empty earlobes for months now. You literally came with me to buy the piercing gun, which cost me my whole allowance by the way, so sit still. And it's summer break, so if you're going to do something dramatic to your appearance, you have to do it now." Before he could stop you, you determinedly swung your leg up and over, lightly straddling his lap.
Suguru realized several critical things as he registered your weight sinking into him.
You smelled like the meadows you'd roamed as kids, mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke (Shoko had convinced him to take up smoking with her) and burnt sugar (Satoru's failed attempt at some monstrosity that still sat smoking in Suguru's kitchen). You smelled like them, he realized. Like a mix of the people who loved you.
You were pretty. He'd always known that, but now, with the heat of your body pressed against his, he didn't realize how somewhere along the way you'd grown into your gangly limbs and the clothes you complained were a few sizes too large.
These two realizations were combined with the fact that he was a boy, a teenaged boy, and you were so close that his heart was going to burst. You smelled like flowers, smoke, and sugar, you smelled like him, like you could be his, and if you moved an inch lower you would know that the Suguru you always came to for comfort was just another boy, and he couldn't bear it. He would rather die than lose you, he would do anything just to have you, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted-
"Yay, all done!" Effortlessly you slid right off his lap as fast as you'd hopped on it, and it was then he realized his earlobes were stinging. In the time he'd spent dazedly staring at you, you'd pierced his ears.
Satoru snickered, still holding his phone obnoxiously close to Suguru's face. "He looks like he's in shock. Hey, if I get a piercing, would you straddle me like that too? You'll make me jealous, you know."
As the two of you bickered in the background, Suguru couldn't help but swallow shakily, lightly pressing his fingertips to the round black earrings you'd picked out for him.
"I love it," he says quietly. "Thank you."
(I love you, is what he meant to say, but you didn't understand because you merely shot him a smug smile before berating Satoru for being a "manwhore, Satoru, I'm not like your groupies at school, go get one of them to pierce your ears for you if you want one so bad!")
Suguru has always known he's loved you, but that summer, he knew he loved you.
Where Suguru goes, Satoru follows. It's only inevitable that he'd realize he was in love with you too. Despite his easygoing nature and flirtatious charms, there's a critical difference between Suguru and Satoru. Satoru gets possessive, a dangerous combination of the spoiled upbringing and how guarded his heart is.
"Who is that?"
Satoru blatantly stares at the boy leaning against your locker. Pettily, he thinks that he's definitely shorter than Satoru, and uglier too. It doesn't seem to matter though, because you're laughing at whatever the he said. As you turn to reach for your books, the hungry look in the boy's eyes make Satoru's fists clench.
"Kenji?" Shoko looks amused when she sees the look in Satoru's eyes. "Isn't he in our English class? He's got a massive crush on her, apparently it's all he talks to his friends about."
Satoru grits his teeth. "Oh, does he?"
He can't quite explain the burning, insidious feeling that forms in his chest. What could've possibly been so funny to make you laugh like that? The smiles you're giving him, why didn't you give those to Satoru too?
The boy, Kenji, reaches over to your face, looking as though he's going to tuck a loose strand of hair around your ear. Something inside of Satoru snaps. He stalks over, ignoring Shoko's snicker, calling your name loudly and abruptly.
"There you are!"
You turn, surprised, as Kenji's hand drops away, his lovesick smile turning into something that looks something similar to fear. "'Toru, where were you? Suguru said he needed to stay in during lunch for a club, but I couldn't find you when I waited outside your classroom."
Satoru's heart lurches traitorously inside his chest, and before he can stop himself, he latches onto your wrist, tugging you towards him. "Don't scare me like that," he murmurs, cradling you firmly in his arms. "Shoko and I couldn't find you, it made me worried."
You peer up at him, clueless to the long forgotten boy fuming behind you. "Ah, I'm sorry, I forgot I left my lunch in my locker." Something in Satoru's chest yearns. Is it because you're so used to his physical affection, his touch, his love, that you don't give him the same starry eyed look as the boy who's still awkwardly waiting by your locker? How can he get you to look like that? How could he make you love him too?
The realization doesn't strike him like he expects, but it feels a bit like finally finding the choreography that fit with the song, the way that he would find a lyric for a song Suguru was attempting to write. It felt like coming home, and reclaiming what was once lost.
Satoru loved you. He has always loved you.
"Let's go," he says, signature smile back on his face, any trace of vulnerability long gone. As he intertwines his fingers with yours, he turns back to see the resigned, frustrated look on Kenji's face.
Just to be an asshole, he tucks your hair behind your ear as you walk away.
You're sixteen when Suguru and Satoru get together. They don't tell you anything. They don't have to. You can see it in the way that Suguru cradles Satoru's face when he falls asleep, affection settling warm in his dark brown eyes. You can see it in the way that Satoru somehow always needs something from Suguru at the precise moment that a girl tries to ask him out. It's in the dark purple marks you can see peaking out from Suguru's collarbone when his shirt slips down an inch, in the way that when Satoru stretches, you can see angry red scratches down his back.
You're sixteen when Satoru's parents find out, shattering the life that you once had. You're sixteen, sitting in Suguru's basement, sobbing as his parents tell you that he's gone. Shoko is saying something to you, but everything feels muffled and hazy, as you let out a choked wail. You know he's gone. The guitar you gave him only a couple months ago, the binder full of music he's composed, even Satoru's clothes that he'd keep in the dresser next to his bed. Every trace of them is gone. You feel as though they took your heart with you.
You're sixteen when Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru leave you, and it's in that moment that you realize you loved them a little too late.
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moonkkives · 11 months
Text
- ( NEWSFLASH! )
pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, charles leclerc x platonic fem!reader, driver!reader
summary: charles can’t tell what’s worse, having to deal with ferrari or having to see his two best friends pinning on each other.
warning: fluffy!, charles wingman this time <3, mentions of banging someone’s head against a metal door <3
word count: 635
them: sundress, zoo culture
author's note: daniel back in the grid? hello? <3 also can we please talk about how f1 official social media is ignoring nyck like he’s the plague?
also, send any requests/ideas for this story if you have any! these are my babies right here 😭
max had hit a new low, charles noticed.
like, he was never one to effectively hide his feelings for his teammate; but this was starting to become a problem.
in part for his well-being, because, to be honest, if he looked at max’s lovesick eyes filling you every move when you weren’t looking he was going to throw up.
both metaphorically and physically.
but also, it was slowly but surely starting to affect his racing career — you just worked too well together. way too well.
it was one thing that red bull being an absolute rocket ship. it was another, however, when your connection to your teammate so deep that it was a huge task to be able to get past both of you on track.
you move in synchrony all of the time, easily switching between defending and attacking
your dynamic was pure magic, as david croft had mentioned many times in the past.
you were both aware, because, how could you not? terrorizing the rest of the gird had become your whole personality.
“better luck next time charles, hopefully!” “yeah, that ferrari is certainly— some thing else.”
pierre always laughed at charles’ face after.
and charles always pinched your arm in revenge.
but honestly, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy for you. he couldn’t think of anyone else more deserving to be in a top team at the moment.
similar to max, charles and you also went way back. only that you became best friends from the get go.
so, you can imagine how much charles has suffered for the past million years watching both of you blindly pin on each other.
you might we’re talented, but you sure are oblivious as fuck.
fast forward to today, he felt lando fake a gag right beside him as they were walking towards their cars to get ready for the pre-race driver’s parade.
“are you seeing that?” lando asked, “disgusting.”
charles chuckled, eyes setting on the pair that had undoubtedly catched the eyes of many people on track.
you were both walking ahead of the group, side by side and in your little own world. max was laughing at something you had said.
it probably wasn’t even that funny, but charles wasn’t going to go there.
max responded to your comment, making you let out a chuckle and softly push his arm. but a smile on his face, he took the chance and confidently wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
he heard lando let out a low teasing “ooh”.
they both watched as you trailed your fingers down his back, before wrapping it around his waist.
this time lando let out a surprised laugh, “ooh—“ he started, “that was cheeky.”
charles laughed, slapping his arm “mate, you’re being too loud!”
lando ignored him, eyes glued to both of your figures as you walked side by side, arms in arms. “she’s getting confident! did you see that little—“ he said, imitating your previous hand movement down max’s back “little thing. baby’s gonna get her man!”
he could now hear albon’s laugh coming from behind them, having now caught up on the gossip. albon pushed lando from behind.
charles shushed them both, however, his eyes were gleaming with amusement. “can you guys be any more obvious!”
lando groaned, “oh, come on! someone has to tell them!”
“absolutely not.” charles refuted, just like he had since day one, “they’ll figure it out themselves.
albon raised a brow at him, “how are you so sure?” he asked, now walking beside him and lando
charles chuckled, “because,” he started. “if they don’t, i’ll bang my head against a metal door.”
with his eyes still on you, charles couldn’t help but smile at the ways your arms were wrapped around each other, heads angling to meet in the middle and footsteps synchronized.
you were going to figure it out, charles thought, you had to. . . right?
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bindeds · 4 months
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⋆。 °⛧ Willy Wonka headcanons ! 🖇️✩ ₊˚
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gif is by @thisgameissonintendo <3
do lmk if you’d like more posts like this!! I’m planning to write a wonka fic soon so stay tuned ;)
requests are open ! mlist. wonka nsfw hcs.
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he’s good at lockpicking & pickpocketing, so he’d make a very good thief but he doesn’t do it because he knows he was taught better by his mother and he doesn’t want to disappoint her
he is only a workaholic when it comes to his chocolate. This man would find the easiest and fastest possible way to do most other tasks
one of the only tasks that are an exemption of the above are clothing. He’s particular in what he wears, not that he has high standards but he wants to dress unapologetically like himself, and that includes deep shades of purple, red and pink for his overcoats, and more mute colors for anything below that
LOVES to read now that he can. He often visits the library and even started a mini book club with Noodle and the rest of the gang (Piper, Larry, Abacus and Lottie) but they assign themselves more than one book per month sometimes because the rest are not as fast to read books as the two of them
He is IN LOVE with Alice in Wonderland, especially the Mad Hatter.
He loves poetry too, and learned how to write his own pretty quickly and always reads it out to Noodle when he writes new poems
his guilty pleasure for books is definitely romance. He likes the thought of devoting yourself to one person, because he knows how it feels like to devote himself to chocolate, and imagining a whole other person to share everything with just fills him with so much hope and light.
this man smells just like vanilla and chocolate, and he wants to keep it that way so he learned to make his own perfume that has the unique smell of his own chocolate (this headcanon partially inspired by this fic! I love the writer sm)
definitely looks up and says ‘sorry mama,’ if he does something questionable, even if he has good intentions
unaware of ‘gender norms’ because he lived by a river with his mother as a child then stayed on sea for seven years with roughly the same group of people, so those things weren’t imposed on him especially since he was mostly raised by only his mother.
following the headcanon above, he knows both the female and male parts of the waltz and other ballroom dances and has no problem wearing skirts or dresses (though prefers pants because he’s used to wearing them and it’s easier to move around in)
and because he was raised with only a small group of people around him almost his whole life, he lives life ‘unfiltered’ which is why he is seen as eccentric and wild, because his mother found it endearing and the boat crew saw how brilliant he was and never told him to ‘tone it down.’
loves shopping with Noodle, and they have an especially good time trying out clothes together
if the Barbie movie came out around the same area and time period, him and Noodle would have definitely dressed in all pink and only Wonka would have bawled his eyes out while Noodle begrudgingly consoles him
definitely goes back out to sea for a whole month once a year, and with the same crew he was first seen with in the beginning of the film. He misses them dearly, and always shares his chocolate with them free of charge
this man has chocolates for everything—chocolates to sleep better, chocolates to enhance focus and even chocolates to calm down (either from panic attacks or intense emotions like anger)
he probably even sells chocolates with vitamins inside, mostly also for children who don’t remember or don’t want to take their vitamins, but he was careful not to make it too good so they won’t take more than the necessary daily amount
he learned to cook after the events of the movie, finding that knowledge in that area would help enhance his skill in chocolate-making. He’s good, but of course he’s not a sous chef
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scarthefangirl · 1 year
Text
Kiss me you moron!
Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Description: When you are injured during a mission Miguel waits in your room for you to wake up. After you do, there are some confessions made.
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, language
Story type: drabble
A/N: Bruh I wrote this in one night don't judge, and also I'm working on my requests I promise
Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN
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The mission was simple. Some guy had disrupted this dimension and caused a bridge to collapse and some other havoc. You, Jess, Pavitr, and Hobie had been assigned to apprehend the man while Gwen, Peter B, and Miles helped get people to safety.
You were on a roll, until you weren't.
It all happened so fast, you didn't have a chance to move out of the way. Everyone was so engulfed with saving the people from the threat, even you. No one noticed the car flying towards you at full speed, the driver passed out with his foot on the gas.
At least, not until it was too late.
So there you laid, in the headquarters infirmary, still knocked out. You had a bandage on the right side of your forehead because of a stitched wound. There were stitches in your right arm as well where there had been shards of glass stuck in your arm. You had broken two ribs, and a fractured hip bone that luckily didn't need surgery because of your quickened healing process.
Meanwhile, your team stood outside Miguel's office with bated breath.
"How do we tell him?" Miles asked quietly, eyes filled with anxiety.
"What's the big deal?" Jess questions. Unlike her, the others new his infatuation with you. He always spared her from his glares and scowls, when he would scream at them for failures he never yelled directly at you, and he tried to send you out on as few missions as you'd allow. When you persisted to go, he'd always be extra persistent to the group about watching out for each other.
"Miguel is in love with her!" Pav whisper shouted. Jess just rolled her eyes, although it made a few things click.
"We're going to be professional and tell him that Y/N was involved in an accident and we'll explain it to him," Peter said, trying to be practical. But everyone's eyes widened and they shook their heads violently.
"No no no. Ask any spider person here if that is a good idea. Its not," Gwen said which surprised Jessica because Gwen is normally reasonable. The adult looked around at the teens fearful eyes, except Hobie of course who couldn't wait to see how things played out.
"Why is it a bad idea?" Jessica asked, mainly to humor the bunch.
"He'd freak. He'd probably kill us. No, he would. He will blame us and," Pavitr shivered, unable to finish his sentence. He loved you and everyone knew it. And you loved him, but they didn't know that. Although it could be assumed, and many did, you were better at hiding it then Miguel.
Jessica forced the group inside and they approached Miguel. He turned to them with a frown, one often plastered on his face. "How was the mission?" He asked dryly. His red eyes scowered the faces in his office but didn't see the one he was waiting for.
"We completed it, but there was a complication." Jessica informed him, causing his chest to tighten. If you weren't there, and there was a complication.... He raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to continue. "Y/N was, hurt."
Rage.
They all saw it as clear as day. Anger crawled up his throat and spread across his face. His stomach felt nauseous and he couldn't catch his breath.
"How?" He growled. His hands shook. He hated that feeling. Feeling helpless and.... Scared. It only made him angrier.
"Well we were all just doing our jobs and a car came out of nowhere and hit her." Peter B. said.
"It full on slammed her, you could hear it!" Hobie gawked.
"Not helping Hobie." Miles warned but Hobie just said, "Good." The fury radiated off of Miguel and causes the whole team to cower back. He'd never been this angry.
But instead of screaming at them he just sprinted to the infirmary.
~
Your eyes fluttered open and you went to rub them but felt sharp pain everywhere. You blinked a few times to clear your vision and looked down at your wounded body.
"The heck?" You muttered under your breath. You couldn't remember what happened. You just remembered being on the mission. Suddenly you heard heavy breathing to your side and you looked over to see Miguel staring at you. You nearly jumped out of your skin, resulting in a groan from the pain. He hopped out of his seat and crouched by your head. He tucked some stray hair behind your ear but you gave him a confused look.
"Three questions," You began, "Number one: What happened? Number two: Why are you here? And most importantly, number three, why the fuck are you doing scaring the shit out of me like that?"
"Sorry for scaring you. You got hit by a car and fractured your hip bone, and had to get stitches in a few places because of glass. But the nurses said you'll be better in a few days because of your enhanced healing capabilities." Miguel said it blankly, but you sensed the tenderness behind it.
"That's kinda badass," You grinned. "I mean imagine telling our- shit, I mean, my future kids that I got whammed by a car. Wait- what kind of car?" You quickly tried to recover from saying 'our kids', hoping he didn't notice. He did, however, and completely lost focus, gaping at you. You felt your cheeks inflamed with scarlet humiliation.
"Huh? Oh um, I- I don't know. No pregunté, lo siento." [I didn't ask, sorry] He seemed to be in a trance of some sort, taken off guard.
"Well, that's okay. I just hope it was a cool car. I would rather be able to say 'I got hit by a brand new Corvette' than having to say 'Yeah I got ran over by a Kia soul.' You know?" You ranted awkwardly, truing to lighten the mood.
"Mhm." Was all he hummed in response, still staring off in a daze. You wished you could hide under the sheets until he left. He sat back down in the chair a few feet from the bed and watched you. You felt your stomach churning under his gaze.
"Miguel?" You asked.
"¿Sí?" [Yes?] He looked you in the eyes and you looked into his.
"You didn't answer question number 2." You stated. You wanted to turn your whole body but could only move your head without pain.
There was complete silence for what felt like eternity. You picked at the itchy white sheet over your legs and stared at your fumbling hands. Maybe you had overstepped, but you were sick of you and Miguel tip toeing around the subject of your feelings. He obviously liked you, at least, you hoped he did.
"When they told me you were hurt... I've never been so terrified in my life." He admitted, meeting your eyes once more. You were challenged to match his at first, but you forced yourself to stare back at his red eyes.
Miguel O'Hara terrified. For you no less.
You didn't know what to say. Thank you? I'm fine? You don't have to be here? Nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, words were slipping out of your mouth.
"I'm in love with you." You said then dropped your jaw, turning your red face forward and refusing to look at him. Did you really just say what he thinks you said? Did I really just say what I think I said?
Maybe it was because of his silence. Maybe it was because you wee hoping to admit your love somewhere more romantic. Maybe it was because he hadn't said anything to lead to this response. But you were mortified. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, the cause being a mixture of pain and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry, that just sorta slipped." You glance at him for a moment then quickly look forward again. He's so beautiful.
"Its okay." He immediately regretted saying that. It's okay? What does that even mean? Both of you thought in unison. He wanted to tell you he was in love with you too but while he was trying to think of how to say it, the others came in.
"Hey!! Great to see you awake Y/N, we were just coming to check on you." Jess said, then glanced at the looks on you and Miguel's faces and felt out of place. "Are we- interrupting?"
"No," You managed, not sparing Miguel a glance. Gwen gave you a side hug on your good side and the rest of the team stood at the end of the bed. Miguel shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let a scowl rest on his face. You swear he'd scowl no matter how happy he was,, only now he wasn't happy. He wasn't displeased with you, but with himself.
"We're so glad you're gonna be okay," Miles smiled sweetly.
"Thank you," You wanted desperately to get your mind of Miguel. 'I probably look like shit." You chuckled uneasily.
"You look fine." Miguel musters. You can't help the butterflies that erupt at his statement, much to your dismay.
"So, one question." You chose to ignore Miguel, scared to cry. Everyone looks at you, encouraging you to continue. "What kind of car was it?"
"A Honda civic." Hobie stifled a laugh.
"Damn, I was hoping for something cool." You rolled your eyes. Everyone chuckled but there was a looming tension in the room and they didn't need spider sense to feel it.
"Right well, we should head out. We'll check on you later Y/N," Peter smiled and patted your good leg.
"Sorry you got hurt, we'll be more careful next time!" Miles called on his way out, but you assumed it was more to please Miguel than you. The door shut and without missing a beat Miguel immediately stated,
"I'm in love with you too." You beamed after he said this, look over at him.
"I know this isn't the best time, but come kiss me you moron!" You laughed. He quickly obliged, walking to you and leaning over the bed to press a soft kiss on your lips. The corner of your mouth was cut but you couldn't care less, happy to finally kiss him. He deepened the kiss slightly, but you couldn't do much because if your injuries.
"MY EYES!!! I NEED TO BLEACH MY EYES!!!" Hobie screamed after having walked in on the scene. You laughed into the kiss and pulled away, breathless.
You watched Miguel's face, tracing every detail into memory. You weren't exactly sure where this left you guy's relationship, but you felt an ache in your chest from how happy you were.
You noticed the glimpse of sadness in Miguel eyes and ask him if he's alright. He just holds your hand, looking at your slightly swollen (but still beautiful) face. "For a second I thought I'd lost you, when they came in without you," he paused briefly before whispering, "I can't lose you."
"I'm not going anywhere. A few broken bones and some cuts aren't going to be enough to keep me away from you."
~
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juuuulez · 7 months
Note
about the negan requests i don’t know if they’re still open but img i’ve been craving father!negan so bad recently i cantttt
i was just thinking like imagine how protective he’d be like he’d do anything for you and i’m imagining him killing people for you like if you were caught or taken for being his daughter and then bam he kills everyone. UGH i can’t hes so dad 💔💔
obv if you’re not up for it ignore this but i’d love to read it thabk you queen good night ❤️
info: Negan x Daughter! Reader, platonic hurt/comfort, kidnapping, torture, choking, omg sorry this was dark, but also sooo cute, he is father.
summary: After his daughter is kidnapped, Negan kills to get her back.
you are SO RIGHT he is absolutely so dad
i’ve left it open to interpretation, so you can decide if you’re his actual daughter or just a found family/adopted situation like my capulet series
this was soooo much fun to write, it got lowkey dark but i’ve been needing something grimy
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“This isn’t going to work the way you think it will.”
You were currently trying to convince your stubborn captor that this whole kidnapping thing wasn’t going to play out well.
After a supply run gone wrong, you’d been taken by a member of a rival group, with the intention of getting leverage against the Saviours. Simultaneously, they attempted to get some cooperation out of you, figuring there was no better ransom than a begging daughter.
It was this strange, metal contraption. You were chained to a chair, by the hands and feet. A steel collar was fixed around your neck, with a rotating knob at the back, which upon movement, lessened the circumference, tightening the metal collar around your neck.
Because of this, you held little control of the situation. Your captor knew this, refusing to give in to your half-assed reasoning.
“I dunno, darlin’,” He chimed, the nickname sounding gross on an unfamiliar tongue, “I think this is workin’ pretty well.”
The man moves behind you, twisting the metal fidget, letting the collar close in on your neck. In response, you lift your head to try and gain any extra room, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to even breathe.
“Now, speak into the mic, babe. Make it sound genuine, we wanna really rile ‘em up.”
When you don’t respond, refusing to plead for your life, to be reduced to begging, he only tightens the contraption. You let out a strained noise, chewing down on your bottom lip, trying to breathe through your nose in hopes of staying conscious.
A burly hand comes into vision, clasping your nostrils closed, completely cutting off your airway. The knob ticks over a few more inches to the right, the sensation now becoming outright painful, harsh metal cutting into your flesh.
It’s all starting to get a little spotty, but you stand your ground. Last time, you’d passed out, and the process had simply started again from the beginning. But this wouldn’t wear you out. You were stronger, at least, you hoped you were.
Luckily, there’s the distant smash of glass, a whirr and pop noise wizzing past your face, eyes still clenched closed. Everything goes fuzzy, dark spots invading your vision, even as the silence erupts into groans of pain.
Your captor lays on the floor, bullet wound to the shoulder. One hand clasps the gun at his side, only for another shot to land right through his meaty wrist. There’s a slight commotion, but it all sounds like distant mumbles, drowned out by a cotton-like blanket of distortion.
“Load ‘em up. I’ll deal with him back home.”
The voice is familiar, but you don’t have the capacity to understand, still teetering on the edge of consciousness. Then, the confines around your neck are loosened, and suddenly you’re granted access to air again.
It’s all too much, too fast, the sharp inhale only worsening your dizzy state. You yank at your hands, wanting to soothe the painful gash along your neck, but find that the metal brackets still restrain your wrists.
“Hey, hey. Just breathe for me, baby-girl. Can you focus on that?”
Warm hands on your face, are the first thing you notice. Holding you still, so your head doesn’t slump over. You mentally note the absence of gloves, but don’t know what to do with this information, otherwise simply comforted by the air of safety provided.
Your vision comes back slowly, still all fuzzy at the edges, but you can make out what’s important. Negan, in front of you, kneeling. One hand is holding your face still, the other working at the cuffs on your wrists and ankles.
He’s bloody.
So, so bloody. It’s stained all over his leather jacket and jeans, splattered up his arms, likely the reason behind removing the gloves. Some is even on the side of his face, colouring the slight greyish hue of his stubble red.
It all snaps back to you in an instant, like suddenly you’ve gained awareness, fully conscious of everything that’s just happened.
You twist your head around, searching for the body of your captor, only to spot a bloody streak across the concrete floor. “Where is he?” You ask, breathless, throat all raspy and sore from being choked.
“Shh, it’s okay. He’s gone. Dwight’s putting him in the van,” Negan assures you, helping to shift you out of the metal chair, figuring your legs would hurt from being confined. “Wanna know what I’ll do to him?”
You find yourself nodding, head coming down to rest on Negan’s shoulder. He smooths his hand over your hair, nails gently scratching at your scalp, brushing the strands back. His other hand rests on your knees, trying to help stretch your muscles after being confined for so long.
“I’m gonna cut his tongue out, and let him choke on the blood,” Negan whispers into your ear, “Then, Lucille’s gonna smash every bone in his body, starting from the feet. Might leave just his head behind. Throw it out into the yard with the other walkers.”
It’s surprisingly relaxing, like you’re being told a quiet story, or a lullaby. Suddenly, the concrete floor is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat on, and even the stench of blood isn’t of concern. It’s all perfect.
“You’ll let me help?” You ask, a hopeful lilt to your tired voice.
Negan runs his hand down to your neck, thumb rubbing over the deep bruise marred over your skin. “No, baby. We’ll get you home and into bed. Let me handle this.”
You can’t find the strength to protest, not opposed to the idea of curling up in bed. Everything still felt hazy, and you were all lightheaded, so you doubted that you’d be much help, anyway.
So, Negan lifts you up into his arms, subsequently getting blood all over your clothes. Not that it mattered, anyway. You didn’t mind.
Having somebody who loves you enough to kill was plenty.
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catwouthats · 3 months
Text
Young Justice (98’) and their ACCENTS because it drives me insane
Bart Allen: Internet/game accent with a southerner twang (plus, speedsters process the world around them differently, including language, so I imagine there is a sort of “speedster accent” since he’s not used to speaking slow)
Anita Fite: Bayou, Haitian, and slight Jamaican accent (probably got not as strong after less time with her relatives. Btw her dad is Jamaican. Also, where did she move to with her dad after gma’s death? Bc that would influence it too)
Tim Drake: Gotham accent (NY or NJ. Mid-Atlantic) kinda privileged white boy version.
Kon El: I hc him as speaking in a “charming” city/suburb way (Delaware aka metropolis), while trying to hide that ever so slight rural mid-west accent from slipping out at certain words
Cissie King-Jones: A suburban east-coast accent (She is from Pennsylvania) but add the fact she goes to an all girls school (groups can form their own dialects)
Cassie Sandsmark: suburban east-coast accent mostly. (mixed slightly with NYC style accent)
Slobo: he’s from another planet, but if ya interpret how they spell what he says mixed with his personality you get rough city-southern (slurred speech with some consonants spat. Harsh, gravelly voice.)
Secret: She grew up in Rhode Island (suburbs I think?), so New England accent. Also, based on how they show her speech bubbles/text: soft spoken, week voice, strained
More languages headcanons:
- Kon tries to avoid saying words like “dog” around his friends and crushes. When he does have to say it, he’s very conscious of how his pronouncing it and will pause a moment before saying it slightly slow.
- Because of Bart being neurodivergent, he picks up accents easily. And his accent can fluctuate occasionally into the accent of who his speaking to. (This is technically canon)
- A Valley Girl moved to Cissies school and infected the whole school with her accent. She then has a slight valley accent for a bit (never fully goes away)
- Bart Allen confuses the FUCK out of other southerners since he speaks so fast with a slight southern accent.
- Bart’s voice is fucking weird in general bc he had to get used to speaking 10x slower than normal (bc VR world n shit)
- It’s canon that Cassie says “like” a lot, and I just wanna point that out again
- They all mock the way Tim speaks
- Nobody mocks the way Bart speaks (some of them want to but literally don know how to since his accent is so weird)
- Slobo’s accent is slightly softer than Lobo’s (genetic runt n all). He tries to force it to be harsh most of the time though.
- Secret is so soft spoke with a strained voice bc of her ptsd. After she becomes human again she is slightly better, but the way she strains her voice hurts her now since it’s a solid body.
- Not exactly a hc, but did Anita smack Kon after he mocked her accent? Bc if they didn’t show it in the comic, I hc she did. Kon tried to be better after mocking her accent that one time though (This is canon. She pretended something he said once was a racist thing and he got so scared. She laughed at him for it and said she was just messing).
- Strangers sometimes stare at Bart and Slobo talking to each other bc their accents are so odd. When one of them notice, they silently signal to the other, and then they both suddenly stop talking to turn ominously to the person looking. (They also later let Anita in on their trick bc they noticed that some racist people occasionally shoot her weird looks. They love scaring bigots with this trick.)
- After all her parents died, Anita noticed her accent start to slip and that frustrated her, so she made sure to make sure to have her Haitian accent prevail (visits to her hometown, etc.)
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i don't know how to sum this up. i haven't slept in four days.
...this is gonna be a long one and im sorry. also literally every fucking one in this whole thing minus V is autistic, i don't know how, but them's the facts.
background info: around... some 8 years ago maybe, my truly BELOVED friend M (today 31F) started hanging out with a new friend group her then-friend S (31F now) had introduced her to.
(i (31 genderqueer) didn't know M then. i do know she was very lonely.)
so. S has introduced M to her friend group, and M hangs out with them for about... two years?, but, as far as i understand, S is the go-between here. M asks S what plans they have on weekends, S calls M when there's plans on weekends, that sort of thing.
what happens is: at one point S's girlfriend, V, starts flirting with M. heavily. in front of S. S VERY MATURELY decides that the solution to this is obviously to start telling M there's never plans on weekends while telling the friend group M is never free on weekends. shitty move, i think we can all agree.
and M ends up alone. she's never heard from a single one of any of those other people ever again. ever.
now. M, OBVIOUSLY and i think with good enough reason, HATES S.
but.
1) it's not S's fault M is no longer friends with the whole group, like M thinks it is. it's just not. if they had wanted to keep hanging out with her, very simply, they would have. S didn't even explicitly ask or tell them not to hang out with M, nor did she talk shit about M to get them to leave her out. and want to know why we know all this? it's because after (AFTER!) S and V broke up, M and V dated for like, three months, and V told M. what S did was shit and immature, but not like. extreme.
2) we don't know if S even knew how lonely M was/was gonna be. in my understanding of what's right or wrong, this is KIND OF REALLY important. the intention, the meanness, the ability to knowingly isolate someone to that degree. jealousy is one thing, being genuinely mean is another.
3) all of this happened 10 years ago. TEN. YEARS. they were like, 20. fetuses. we're all queer, they were all navigating the first romantic experiences, shit happens. S was shit but S also could have become a better person in these TEN YEARS. we just don't know.
OTHER background info: ive known S for like, 10 years, and she's someone VERY interesting who i've always liked (not romantically), but she's not my friend.
ok, and now. fast forward to last week. M & i & F1 (27F, my bestie, M's friend) go to a pub. S is there, says hi to me, hi to M (which. like at least apologize or something. but ok) (at this point i have no idea they even knew each other btw), S & i talk a bit like we always do, M goes home (i suspect nothing), S & F1 & i hang out, next thing u know F1 and S start to date and S and i become better friends.
(where i absolutely am the A: apparently, at some point M told me what S did to her. before we met S at the pub? after? i have NO memory of any of this.)
M wants nothing to do with S, as is her right. but at this point F1 is dating her and im making plans to like, watch clone wars with her. M tells me & F1 the whole story (tells again, in my case), tells us she has no problems with us hanging out with S but again, please can we not force them together, which, ofc, i tell her about our star wars plans and like, she's chill, she says yeah sure go for it, she jokes around about how S knows lots of people and we gotta use her to get another friend a girlfriend, shit like that.
forward again. one sunday morning, M asks me to hang out. that sunday just so happens to be clone wars day with S & F1. i tell her. she goes BALLISTIC. like, tachycardia, tunnel vision, palpitations, she's fully ready to never talk to me again because "i can't ask [me] to not hang out with S because that would be toxic, but i just CAN'T be around S, so here we go again, she's gonna steal my friend [me] (...i don't think M cares too much about losing F1, they're not that close), im losing control of the situation, the only way for me to stay in control is to choose to cut off [me] right here and now, so that's what ill do, goodbye forever". and she spends the WHOLE DAY in this frenzy (completely unbeknownst to me!), with multiple people trying to calm her down and like, get her to talk to me. (which OF COURSE the next day she ends up doing, because she loves me, she's just. very autistic.) anyway, at this point (sunday evening) ive been made aware of the situation with M, so i had F2 (F31, she's a mutual close friend who was acting as a kinda peacemaker) tell M i was there for her & ready to talk whenever, and we meet up on monday evening, i get apologized to (M had like, blocked me on all social media 😂) for the whole... overreaction, especially after id been told it was ok to see S, and M officially asks me to stop hanging out with S. i try to tell her "can i ask S about, idk, what was going on in her brain back then". she starts to hedgehog up on me so i shut tf up.
here i am the A again: i know M very well. i should have known it would not actually be okay to see S. i just should have. i do know her.
here i... can't tell how much of an A i might be: i don't want to tell S to fuck off. i WANT to talk to S, figure out how much of an actual irredeemable asshole she is, and only in that case tell her to fuck off. the 3 points i made at the start of this papyrus are still valid. also i think it's kind of fair to give her the right to like, defend herself? explain herself? before i go full ghost on her
... its like this. it's not like i care about S. not to be mean but she's no one to me. i just would like her to BE someone to me, cause she seems cool.
i have few friends. i would like one more friend.
i also made friends with a friend of S, T (can't remember age NB). they're the only other genderqueer person i know irl. id like to get to know them. (also they're kind of cute but that's genuinely not that important lol, i just like to make this post Even Longer). i wouldn't get to know T if i did what M wants (needs?) me to.
and let's not forget S is currently dating my close friend F1. just to put icing on the cake.
then again, i adore M. my loyalty to her SHOULD be more important than two people who are, again, no one to me. i should just tell F1, sorry, i won't hang out with ur gf, like ill be civil to her but i won't pursue a friendship with her. because i don't NEED to. i don't NEED these friendships. i would just LIKE them.
if S turns out to BE an asshole who hurt M on purpose, it's great, it's golden. problem solved. ill tell her she's shit and, i mean, F1 will probably break up with her too. no one gained or lost anything from a whole shebang were i haven't slept in like 4 days and got a stress herpes or whatever it's called, it's cool, it happens, go us.
but if S is... justifiable? understandable? NOT a dick? i don't feel i have an actual reason to delete her number. would i, for M? probably, yeah, but i don't WANT to.
F1 says im a doormat. F2 says im basically a monster and how could i do this to M when there's plant of other friendly fish in the sea.
AITA?
and while we're at it, if someone feels like giving advice... what do i do?
What are these acronyms?
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skz4ellie · 8 months
Text
𝑺𝒌𝒛 𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑳𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑
𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆
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𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏
He'd be so so sweet
Mans actually wants to be with you but he's scared 😕
he's clingy!!
You could just be doing anything and he'd just hold onto you like you are giving him life (you are)
Basically treats you like you're his gf
Drops everything for you
oh, you're bored?🤨 he'll be over in five
you need to be picked up from the club? already on his way
want a coffee? he's at you're doorstep with you're fave coffe
I feel like if he can't come to you like he's stuck in the studio he will def ft you
like you guys will just sit on call while he works so he's kinda there
leaves one part of his headphones off so he can hear you if you need something
he'll ask you out after a while but will be so nervous
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𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑲𝒏𝒐𝒘
Bold asf
He does not hold back!!! he's flirting with you 25/8 and will not stop😭
he takes you to meet his cats first thing
He needs his cats approval (they love you)
he cooks for you! he don't care he will stop dance practice if you're hungry and leave to cook for you
Makes mental notes of you're favorite snack and favorite meals so he knows what to make you
I feel like he'd always be touching you somehow
like if you're hanging out he'd like hold onto you're arm or put it around you're shoulder
HE WOULD SO GRAB YOU'RE WAIST TO MOVE YOU AHHHHH
he would teach you some of his groups dances fs
even though he's kinda closed off sometimes he always makes sure you know he cares
we all know his love language is acts of service so he'll do just about anything for you
I feel like he'd be faster at asking you out then chan but it will take him a bit
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𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒃𝒊𝒏
sigh he's so cute😕
he'd be so shy but definitely get a bit bolder after a bit
I feel like you guys would be friends long before you're a situationship
I think he would do the yawn and put his arm behind you're shoulder thing because he thinks it's funny and also kinda cute
begs for you to go to the gym with him
he doesn't even care if you work out he just wants you there
he would prefer if you work out cause he cares for you're health but he won't make you
sends you work out pics!!!
I feel like how Lee know took you to meet his cats he'd take you to meet 3racha
I feel like he cares so much about Chan's opinion and approval of you
ofc ofc Hannie's matters too but he seeks it out from Chan cause Chan always looks out for him and knows best for him so if Chan thinks you're good, you're definitely good
lets be so real he always has some type is skinskip when you're around
even if it's something as small as just you're knees touching under the table he's good
asks you to be his girlfriend so fast because let's be honest he was in love with you before you even have a situationship with each other
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𝑯𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏
he just wants to be around you no matter what😞
he doesn't care if it's just silent just wants to be with you
he has so many pages(if not a whole sketch book) of sketches he's drawn of you
he wants you to model for every painting he does
it would fs let you sit in his lap and paint with him if you want too
he doesn't even care if you're a good painter he's just so happy you're doing his hobbieswith him
you guys definitely does those tiktoks where people will paint for like 5 minutes and then swap with the other person
if you're doing something and can't give him attention he just holds onto you
doesn't matter how or what position hell just hold onto you
he'd buy you matching jewelry like the ones him and Felix have
also you and Felix ast best friends and hyunjin loves it
he's in between Chang bin and leeknow like he'd ask you to be his girlfriend pretty quickly but not too quickly yk?
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ngl so nervous to post this because this my first actual post on tumblr 😞
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mins-fins · 2 months
Text
EPISODE 2 : ❛ mark's pretty drummer ex ❜
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Okay so Mark exaggerated it just a tiny bit.
He wasn't going to be that late, his issue was a wardrobe issue, not an issue pertaining to you. He's often used to the groups teasings (mainly Donghyuck's, he just loves talking about you, sometimes Mark thinks he likes you more than he does— not that he likes you or anything, it's just a stupid thought), but whenever it comes to you, it's like they amplify the tormenting words, the tormenting tone, and they reach their hands into Mark's mind to take out his most inner thoughts.
When Mark steps into the music hall, he doesn't try to make a commotion, get through the crowd of pressed together young adults to find his group, he just stays where he is. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, leaning against a nearby wall as he observes the stage a few feet before him, he counts how many heads he sees stood by waiting to make their way up. Four. Four?
Where the hell are you?
It's not that Mark is purposefully looking for you, he isn't! He would never! It's just weird to see a band without their leader ordering everyone around. It's more just weird to not see you around, standing in front of your bandmates, you crave the attention, the spotlight, you want to make everyone in the audience forget about other bands, even if your position has been reduced to a drummer.
Mark can't deny that you're pretty good at taking people's attention away, whenever you start doing your thing, it's difficult to not look at you. You're an attention seeker, but you’re also not hard to miss, no one could take their eyes off you even if they wanted to. He makes himself comfortable against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, he's still wondering where you are, he's beginning to think that you didn't even show up, how is Eunoia supposed to function without their drummer?
But then he spots you, he can recognize your hair from miles away (and no that is not weird), you come up out of nowhere, startling Dejun as you do. Mark doesn't hear any of your interaction, for one he's much too far from your standing point, and for two, there are many people around him murmuring, all of their voices mixing together and becoming too loud for him to try to eavesdrop.
Mark doesn't mean to stare you and Dejun down so intently, he might be mistaken for glaring, an uncertain burning look in his eyes that can only be seen as a gaze of jealousy, but he's not jealous. He knows that you and Dejun have nothing going on, not genuinely at least, but there's just a little thought in the back of his mind that continues to bring it up, they could be dating, maybe you finally moved on after realizing that he wasn't worth it—
That's all a little unreasonable though, Mark just knows, call it intuition or something, you aren't dating Dejun, it's a practically impossible prospect. Still, he can't deny that the way you and Dejun are acting is enough to make him dig his nails into his own arm, trying to contain his unsaid irritation.
But all that irritation immediately washes away the moment he hears a familiar announcing voice. "Please welcome Eunoia to the stage!" A small smile comes to his face upon seeing the group begin shuffling their way up to the stage, they are all so cute, he can say that.
Mark's eyes never stray off you, the traits of a guy whose mind isn't totaled consumed by his ex at all. He doesn't pay kind to those thoughts, focusing on the about to perform band (well more just you than the band, but he IS looking at them as well! He swears!).
You're completely unaware to his presence, and thank god, because how would Mark even begin to explain the way he's staring so intently? Like he has some goal in mind? Staring in a way that makes it seem like he wasn't the reason your whole entire relationship ended in a huge blowup.
The thoughts are barely able to fester in Mark's mind, though, because the music snaps him out of it. The song is great, not too fast but not too slow as well, Dejun's voice really compliments the instrumental, he's a good singer.
Mark thinks he would've preferred watching you sing the song, though.
The lyrics have you written all over them, Mark can just tell. He's gotten used to recognizing the little things about you, he can picture it in his head, you standing in your office, pacing back and forth as you go over different lyrics to place in this melody. The image comes easily to his mind because he's seen it many times before, the way you write is beautiful.
You, are beautiful, but Mark shuts down the idea before the thought even comes up.
It seems that as soon as the set starts, it ends, but Mark's eyes don't leave you even then, and he gives his best applause as his gaze follows your specific movements. Thank god you don't catch him, it'd be embarrassing, you would never let him live it down (and neither would any of his bandmates, Hyuck would make fun of him for years).
You're much too into your own things, a small laugh escaping your lips as you listen to a stupid joke Jaemin is saying, shoving your drumsticks into your pocket. He sighs and gets off the wall, walking off towards the rest of the band, he'll come up with a lie, he just got in a few minutes ago, yeah, that's a pretty decent lie, he'll stuck with that.
You don't see him leave, at least, he hopes.
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ynscrazylife · 2 years
Note
“stay still, im trying to help you" with Steve Harrington please
Nothing a Bandaid Can’t Fix
Summary: Steve comes to the rescue when the Upside Down threatens Y/N.
Authors Note: This is set in Stranger Things 4, Vol 1 and is inspired by something that happens in Vol 2, but does not contain any spoilers for Vol 2.
Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)
Main Masterlist | Stranger Things Masterlist
PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me firstand b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.
On the walk to the Wheeler’s house, Y/N and Steve had become the “leaders” for the group, despite the fact that Nancy was the one who lived there. Y/N claimed it was because Nancy, Robin, and Eddie walked slow; but inside she knew she was itching to get there faster. The quicker they got there, the quicker they could leave this dimension and never come back.
“I can’t believe Will survived a whole week in here,” Steve murmured, glancing around.
Y/N nodded in agreement, following his gaze. “He’s a tough kid,” she said. “How are the bandages holding up, by the way? Do you feel better?” She sent a worried glance at her boyfriend, remembering the bats’ attack.
Steve let out a chuckle, patting his side where the bandages were. “I’m flattered you’re worried, hon, but they are doing their job,” he answered cockily, flashing a wink at Y/N.
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but add a smile to it. “Sue me for caring, Harring—” she was about to remark, only to cut herself off with a shrill gasp at the feel of something quickly wrapping around her ankle. Glancing down, she had little time to react to the sight before her: a vine squeezing her ankle. Before she could say anything, more vines shot out and latched onto her, slamming her against the nearest tree.
Steve’s eyes widened as he witnessed his girlfriend be restrained against a tree, helpless to do anything about it. “ROBIN! NANCY! EDDIE!” He called out immediately, but only heard his echo in turn. He cursed under his breath, they were too far back to hear him.
“Steve!” Y/N’s croaked cry reminded him that he had to act fast, her pupils as big as a bowling ball’s with the little light the Upside Down had provided.
His first instinct was to pull at the vines with his hands to do anything, but he thought better of it and knew that it would do nothing. Instead, he took a makeshift tool he’d made after the bat attack and began clawing at the vines with it like it was some sort of an axe.
Y/N could only watch, thoughts racing through her head a million times a millisecond. It was the most horrible feeling to be in danger and not be able to do anything about it, but she knew she had to have faith in Steve. He could get her out of this. He would. But—it was becoming difficult to think when every bone in your body was practically being squeezed out of your skin. Y/N let out short gasps as she did her best to breath through it.
However — she couldn’t help but flinch every time Steve’s…whatever tool it was came near her.
“Stay still, I’m trying to help you,” Steve said urgently, grunting as he kept on wacking at the vines. He briefly wondered if the vines were cutting off her oxygen, since she was moving away from the very thing trying to help.
Y/N opened her mouth to response, but only a cough came out in return.
Steve huffed, wacking at the vines even harder. Soon, they began to fall away, and Y/N gathered the strength to try and squirm her way out of danger. Eventually, she was fully freed, and fell to the ground. Steve quickly dropped his tool and hit the ground on his knees, catching her around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.
Y/N couched and took deep breaths, squeezing her eyes shut as she wrapped her arms around Steve’s neck and allowed him to hold her. “That’s it,” he soothed, rubbing her back. “Just breath. Breath for me.”
By the time she caught her breath and was calming down, Nancy, Robin, and Eddie had caught up. “Please don’t tell me you guys were making out or anything,” Eddie whined.
Steve rolled his eyes while Y/N shook her head, rubbing her throat. “The vines got her,” he grunted, before moving to stand up and to help his girlfriend do the same. “C’mon, let’s get to Nancy’s house. We gotta get out of here.”
They continued their walk, Steve and Y/N falling to the back of the group. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, ready to support her and catch her if need be. Y/N didn’t say much, not wanting to worsen her throat, and Steve didn’t mind. He only quietly asked if she was alright from time to time and, when they got to Nancy’s, asked if she needed anything.
Nancy and Robin went upstairs to try and communicate to Dustin and Lucas on the other side, meanwhile Eddie roamed around the house and Steve directed Y/N to rest on the couch. He went to the kitchen in search of anything that could help, gladly rummaging through the Wheeler’s drawers.
“Tea is good,” he said triumphantly, spotting a tea bag and grabbing it. But then — Steve hesitated. “Wait, how the fuck do you make—brew?—tea?”
With a sigh, he threw the tea bag back and opted for hot coffee. After it was done, he grabbed a first aid kit from the closet and made his way back to Y/N, where Eddie was now entertaining her by playing a song.
Steve said a quick hello to Eddie before sitting down next to Y/N, handing her the coffee which she gladly sipped at. While she enjoyed her drink, he began to open up the first aid kit, sifting through the things in there.
He found some bandaids and bandages and started treating the cuts and scrapes on Y/N’s arms and legs, murmuring apologies when she winced. When he was done, he kissed her forehead. “There you go, all better,” he said.
“Nothing a bandaid can’t fix,” Y/N whispered, smiling before leaning forward to kiss Steve.
“Nothing indeed,” Eddie echoed, before gagging at said kiss. “Ugh. Happy people.”
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ranchthoughts · 10 months
Text
various thoughts and musings on Only Friends and ephemerality, inspired by @waitmyturtles and @lurkingshan's thoughts here
In her post, @waitmyturtles pointed out how the theme of ephemerality in time and life has popped up in the show so far: in Ray, who blacks out and can't remember the previous night; in Boston, king of the one night stand; in the atmosphere of the show (Cheum telling Mew to get with Top, because they are facing COVID, airborne particles, and radiation); in Mew who bucks the paradigms of his friend group (doesn't take shots, remains a virgin, etc.), who wants to take his time/get Top to stick around, to reject ephemerality, unlike his friends.
This all got me thinking about how time and ephemerality show up in elsewhere in Only Friends and in the other characters' lives.
We have, of course, the ephemeral and short-term one night stands contrasted against the non-one night stands (Boston's whole deal vs. what Mew wants from Top), but even the question of "ephemeral" one night stands is getting complicated here. Boston has lots of one night stands, but also he wants another go with Top, and he returns to Nick several times. What does Boston think about "letting things age like plum wine" as it were? Why isn't he interested in longer-term relationships?
We also learn this episode that Sand has his fair share of one night stands too. In the preview for the next episode, Sand says he's never slept with someone who is not his lover more than once. Here we see a contrast between short-term/ephemeral hookups and longer-term relationships - Sand has both one night stands and lovers, temporary and lasting. Sand and Ray are not lovers/boyfriends, therefore the sexual element of their relationship (and perhaps even their friendship itself) must be temporary, according to Sand. Why does Sand draw these distinctions, why is he placing Ray in the category of short-term hookup and not relationship material (if he is actually doing that)? How does his view of short term vs. long-term relationships differ from Boston's?
Mew wants longevity with Top and doesn't want a one night stand, but as waitmyturtles pointed out/we saw in this second episode, he also wants to go back to the beginning and have Top hit on him again. He wants something permanent, but there is this also this thread of ephemerality, of going back in time, of starting again/forgetting what came before, present in his story line just as there is in Boston's.
Boston and Nick are "temporary" lovers (despite Boston returning to Nick several times, enough that Nick is surprised and wants the relationship defined), Sand and Ray are "temporary" lovers (despite Ray wanting to continue a friendship through it), Mew and Top are "lasting" lovers (though Mew clarifies that he only accepted Top as his boyfriend because he felt embarrassed by the public question, and asks if they can start at the beginning again).
Waitmyturtles and lurkingshan got into the idea of "seize the day," "live now because we won't live forever," and that is reflected in a lot of these characters' story lines. Nick recognizes Boston when he comes into the phone store and decides to seize the day, take advantage of this once in a lifetime chance to get with him. He has to move fast not to lose it. Sand and Ray throw caution into the wind and sleep together, despite Sand's warning that they can no longer be "just friends" after this. Boston wants Top one more time, even if that means getting Top to cheat on his boyfriend. There's a carpe diem vibe, a recklessness, even a disregard for consequences, to their actions (and I think we know we are going to spend a lot of time dealing with the fallout from these decisions).
In my messages with waitmyturtles and in lurkingshan's response on this post, we both latched onto how this carpe diem mentality and ephemerality of time and life relate to queer history. Queer people have historically faced difficult and shortened life spans due to HIV-AIDS, hate crimes, criminalization, and other threats to the community - life must be lived quickly and all at once, because it may not last long. Lack of marriage equality and other legislation also means queer relationships have not been offered the permanency and weight of heterosexual relationships. Queer people couldn't wish for a long-term, permanent happily ever after for a very long time (this makes me think about queer futurities - linking @chickenstrangers' post on this in Bad Buddy - and @waitmyturtles talking (here and here) about how queer automatically = pain and tragedy in media, especially earlier queer media). Therefore, to queer people throughout history and now, we see the "life fast die young," "we aren't going to live forever" mentality that permeates Only Friends.
On another note - I am interested in the idea of ephemerality and permanency as it relates to money and class in the show. Sand is not in a good place financially (he has to take on multiple jobs, live carefully within his means, etc.); he is unable to achieve the longevity and stability that comes with financial security. Ephemeral in another way. But we see also that money doesn't necessarily mean stability or permanency (or happiness) either - Ray has lots of money but is alone. His friends don't stick around, he pays for the temporary company of Sand, he spends his money on drink that makes him forget the night before - ephemerality yet again.
@waitmyturtles also brought up the idea of plum wine (which sweetens as it ages) and drew parallels to I Promised You the Moon, slowing down, lingering in relationships, etc. I couldn't help but notice that Sand's plum wine is carried in a bag that reads "You only live once" - the lasting and the ephemeral, the slow and the fast, the permanent and the temporary.
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worra-arts · 9 months
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OKAY, hear me out before reading the text below: this blog of mine is just a place, where I can see my progress in many of things, and writing in english is one of them. the deal is - english is not my native language, and my way of writing can look very bad.
if you decide to read my little sketch, firstly - good luck; and secondly, if when you see some dumb mistakes - feel free to comment because learning stuff is fun!
(also I'm like probably need to do a disclaimer or something like this, but I don't know how :D)
well, it's just fluff (?), without any triggers and just something that was in my head for a while. also I'm using the real names on the dream team in this text. actually, all my thoughts slowly became a whole au (this is the right word for it, right?), so if I will be really confident, maybe I write something else....
UGH this is again a super long text, I'M SORRY.
imagine that you've been friends with «dream team» for an almost a three years.
originally you were an employee on a mr. beast team, something that others would call an errand boy (well, errand girl in your case). but despite your small position in a whole team, everyone was simply in love with you. you just were a little shining star, that everybody adored. and beside that, you knew how to do your job. and by one of these hard-working days, you've meet sapnap.
there were a small pause between shooting for a new challenge video, where nick was one of the judges, and it happend that you both had a chance to chat for a little bit. you two find in each other someone nice, almost like a soulmate. when you too start to speak about different topics, including hobbies and favorite things, something just clicked. after a shooting, y'all just spontaneously decided to go for a walk. you both just can't stop talking, and after a hour or so, you find yourself on a basketball court. the day slowly becoming an evening, there only a few people around, and you two with beer cans just lazily playing basketball.
and after that day your life just start change entirely.
after sapnap you've met sunshine with name karl, and then dream, george, even quackity. the boys was also amazed with your warm personality and you all pretty fast become great buddies. you start to show in theirs instagram photos, twitter posts, stories. you've slowly become an important member of their group. staying for a movie night, cook for them, give a ride on your car, making birthday presents, spending time in video games, and eventually joining the streams.
to be honest, chat was kinda aggressive by the first time and full of comments like "omg why are they even let this girl to join, she's just ruining all the fun" and bunch of other not-so-nice words. guys were super sorry that you have to deal with all this hate, but you honestly won't making a big deal out of that. you just continue to show up from time to time, and slowly but surely people realize that your "boring" side was actually a "super caring" side.
and only after this realization everybody understand how cool actually your character resonates with sometimes childish characters of the rest of the group. the memes start to full the internet, boys start jokingly addresses to you like "sweet mother of ours", and you were very audible and visible cringing at the name, but they're just unstoppable.
and after a two and a half years of your friendship, after george finally gets a visa and clay does a face reveal, four of you guys finally moved together.
and that simply become a golden era of your friendship.
you spend mornings with george, when you get ready for work and this man with no sleep schedule gives you company. at the moment that you start making a breakfast, this man just magically appears with his cute puppy eyes, and after the few times when your plate was getting empty for about a fifteen seconds, you just start to cook for you two. imagine: dark room with only one working lamp, you both eating some puffy pancakes, drinking something warm, chatting and silently giggling. it's a little foggy outside, and almost absolute silence. sounds really comforting, does it not? after you finished eating, you give george a small kiss on his head, maybe mess up with his hair and beg him to get some rest.
the days fly by really fast, when you making stuff with dream. join the stream for a moment? sure. what about the new idea for the video/song? tell me everything. maybe you want to go to the shopping together? get in my car, clay. you freely can go to his room when silence in your head gets too loud. often you just knock on his room door shyly, and ask if you can sit on the bed while dealing with work. and he never refuse. also you absolutely love to draw him in the moments when he really focused on something, maybe make him a few more knitted hats or something cute, but stupid. and he absolutely melts at every single touch. you just need to tell him that everything is okay, and he always can find a support in his friends. and he's so thankful for this.
and finally, you want the evenings to never end because you spend them with sapnap. he don't want to show it, but you just see it anyways - he cares about you. of course, that doesn't mean that other guys don't care, but sapnap do it in his own way and you really appreciate it. almost every evening he casually walks into your room, and if he sees how tired you look because of the work, all his appearance softens immediately. with his silent, raspy voice he asks how do you feel. and if your answer not satisfying enough, nick just casually says that he's going to wait you in the car. and that means - this evening going to be awesome. you both have no clue what are you going to do tonight, but that's just more fun, right? basketball court, just like in the old times? eating junk food in the car, while chatting and shouting the songs? skateboarding park, when nick trying to impress you, but just stupidly falls and now you need to bandage all his wounds, while you just can't stop from laughing? (he's trying to act offended, but inside he's all fluff, believe me).
but sometimes you decide to hang out in the house. sapnap picks up some random film, brings more pillows and blankets, you cook (or order) snaks, and you both just simply chilling together after a long day. and I don't need to tell that almost every time the rest of the group decide to join. maybe it's even spontaneously become a movie night? who knows. you can't even blink, and it's 3am already, the third movie silently playing on the back, all the boys sleeping and barely audibly snore. and only you stubbornly want to wait until the credits. and the movie finally ends, you trying to clean up a little, while you judge the main character in your mind. when you come back to the sleeping kingdom, you can't help but smile at the view of three big men just calmly sleeping, and unconsciously trying to hug something. you definitely take a few photos, and when you want to go to your room, suddenly dream wakes up and mid-sleep reach up to you, whispering that he want to cuddle. your heart was not ready for this, and you just can't say "no" to him.
and when you slowly falling into sleep, while warm big hands carefully hugs you, you just think to yourself - oh, how extremely lucky you are.
well, maybe you can skip the next day at work.
...you can't miss how nick and george all morning going to scream that they're absolutely-for a hundred percent-for sure-definitely didn't hug each other all night.
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