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roosterforme · 6 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're convinced you and Bradley could go on the same date a million times over, and you would find something new to love about it each time. You don't want the weekend to come to an end, but at least you get to enjoy time with a favorite visitor on Sunday evening.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley was dressed and lounging back on the pillows with his arms tucked behind his head. You were getting ready to go out, and he was thoroughly enjoying watching you put on your red lingerie. His favorite set.

"We could just stay in," he murmured as you clasped your bra and rolled your eyes. Your face was made up and you were standing at the foot of the bed wearing barely anything at all. "We should just stay in."

You scoffed and said, "You should let Tramp out so we can leave in twenty minutes. I want to eat hot sauce with my sexy husband."

"Fine," Bradley sighed with a smile, pausing in the doorway to watch you slip your red dress over your head. The same one you wore on your first date together. The one Bradley loved you in every time you wore it. And then he walked through the kitchen to let Tramp outside. Your new French press was on the counter along with the half unpacked Amazon box that neither of you had time to get to all week. But he reached inside and pulled out one of his new notebooks and took a pen out of the drawer.

Bradley had been working late all week for various reasons. He'd missed a lot while he was deployed. Plus the Slayer and Dean court-martial was moving ahead. And also, Maverick had offered him the chance to meet some pilots fresh out of flight school with the promise that Bradley could help with some training exercises in the coming months. He was tired. Next month was his thirty-seventh birthday. He was feeling his age.

He clicked the pen in his hand and opened the notebook to the first page.

My wife does this thing, and it drives me absolutely wild. When I tell her I'm tired or point out a gray hair in my mustache or mention that I've been feeling my age, she just laughs at me. Sure, I can still run ten miles and lift weights for hours on end, but she can wear me out in an instant. Emotionally, mentally, or physically. She can say one sentence to me like, "I want to go eat hot sauce with my sexy husband," and I am emotionally tanked for the rest of the day. Because I fucking believe her. She actually does want to eat her favorite food with me. And she actually does think I'm sexy. And she's too smart, so trying to keep up with her mentally drains me every single time. And physically... Well. That's where she manages to

"You ready to go, Roo?" you asked, walking into the kitchen looking exactly like you had more than a year and a half ago when you and he were just starting to fall in love. Well, he was already half in love with you by the time that first date rolled around. And by the end of the night, he was a goner.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching out for his hand with a little crease between your eyebrows.

"Nothing," he rasped as his eyes dipped down to your cleavage. "Just thinking about how I don't even have to try to play it cool tonight, unlike on our first date." He leaned down and kissed your lips softly and then added, "You look fucking incredible."

"I don't care what you say, we're not staying in for the night," you whispered, running your fingers along his tattoo and pulling him in for a kiss that was clearly at odds with your words.

"Whatever you say, Sweetheart," Bradley replied. He let Tramp back inside and then walked out to the Bronco with your hand in his. And then he got to do one of his favorite things. He opened the door for you, helped you climb in, and buckled your seatbelt. But as he started to pull his right hand away from your body, you caught it and held him close.

"Hey," you whispered. "I don't have to try to play it cool tonight either."

"No?" he asked, his eyes fluttering closed as your lips met his.

"No. I love you so much," you replied. "And I would go on the same date with you a million times, because each time would be a little different, and I know I would remember them all."

Bradley could feel goosebumps on your arm, and your eyes looked a little vulnerable. Last time you and he had visited the hot sauce restaurant and the pier from your first date, it had been on your birthday. And you cried that night. A lot. Because you wanted to be pregnant, but you weren't. He briefly wondered how many other times you'd cried for that reason that he didn't even know about.

He wanted a baby. He still did. But it wasn't his top priority. He understood now how much you'd let it hurt you month after month. And it wasn't the same for him. He knew that now. And he didn't want you to feel like you were failing yourself, your relationship or him ever again. Because you weren't. You were more than enough.

"I remember every minute I've ever spent with you, Sweetheart. And I dream about it when I'm deployed. And I want to have decades of stuff to remember."

"Just keep feeding me hot sauce."

"I fucking plan on it."

-------------------------

The ride up to Del Mar was beautiful. The sky faded from orange to purple as Bradley drove and sang along to his Motown playlist with his hand on your thigh. You thought about how you had a panic attack on your birthday after the negative pregnancy tests, but the memory of it didn't hurt as much now.

"What are you thinking about, Baby Girl?"

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the restaurant. "Honestly?"

He met your eyes briefly as he straightened out the tires. "Yeah, honestly."

"I still want to have a baby, Roo," you said easily, this time without your heart aching. "I still think about it. But it doesn't make me upset like it used to."

He killed the engine, and coaxed you over to his lap. "Come here." When you were settled on him with your hands on his shoulders, he kissed you. "I still think about it, too. I still want it. But not at the expense of this," he added, gesturing between his body and yours before he let his big hand settle on your hip. "I don't want anything at the expense of this."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Neither do I. And I know we agreed we can talk about this at length in a few more months, but I don't want to stop trying. And if there's still something wrong after a year, maybe we can talk to some doctors?"

"There's nothing wrong with us, okay? There's never going to be anything wrong. But if we still don't get pregnant, there are other options," he told you gently. "Like... fertility treatment or adoption agencies. But whatever we do, it's 50/50. We do it together. And I promise I'll take care of you better than I did before."

You were silent for a beat, because these were things you'd already thought about. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I'm just saying, if we want a baby, there are other ways to make it happen. But I'm never going to stop wanting to fuck you, so don't think for a second that we're taking that off the table."

You shook with silent laughter before your giggles bubbled over. "Okay, we won't take that off the table, Roo."

He kissed your cheek and said, "Keep your pussy on the table." But he was laughing too, and you felt really good inside. His hands were heavy on your hips, and his lips were nipping at your neck. "Just let me feed you hot sauce and love you, and then we'll figure the rest out later if we even need to. I wanna give it a little more time, okay? Some more time with you off birth control. Some more time with us just being us. Like this."

"Yes," you agreed. "This is perfect. This feels good."

Now he was rubbing his mustache along your cleavage, and you knew you needed to get him inside the restaurant while you still could. "I'm hungry," you whispered.

"Me too," he agreed with a smirk.

"For dinner," you clarified with a laugh.

When you finally got him inside the restaurant, you could hear his stomach growling, so you didn't feel too bad. "Order two meals you want to try, Baby Girl," he said casually once you were seated.

You loved it when he let you do that, which was most of the time. And he always let you finish whichever one you liked better. And he never complained. You could feel his eyes on your body when you walked around to look at all the hot sauces on the shelves. Every time you glanced at him across the restaurant, he gave you a little nod or a wink. And there was no doubt in your mind that you were just as attracted to him now as you were the first time you were here.

When you brought some that you wanted to try back to your table, a brand new bottle of your favorite green sauce was sitting next to your favorite beer. "How am I supposed to deal with you, Bradley?"

"It's your favorite. And it's a tradition."

You laughed. "You bought me a whole case of 12 bottles online."

"You go through a bottler per week."

"That's actually fair."

Then your meals were delivered to the table, and you doused both of them in a rainbow of sauces and started eating. The two of you ended up sharing both meals, because you couldn't decide which one you liked better. And that one beer made you feel calm, and now Bradley's cheeks were rosy. After your conversation in the Bronco and the past week with him, you felt like all of the weight and pressure you put on yourself was easing up.

After dinner, you were laughing as he led you down the sidewalk with his arm wrapped around your waist. And you couldn't keep your hands off him either. "Why are we passing the Bronco? We should go home."

"Not yet," he whispered in your ear.

You gasped. "Are we going back to the silent disco?"

"Well," he rasped, looking at you with a wince. "Not exactly. I've been trying to get you back there for one, but they always seem to be when I'm deployed. But I had another idea. Let's walk down the pier."

You snorted. "You just want a handjob."

"Please," he replied, leading you across the street and down the pier. "Give me a little credit. I don't just want a handjob."

"Well that's good, because there are a lot of people out tonight," you whispered as he spun you around so your back was pressed against the railing and you were looking up at his face. "You're really handsome."

His cheeks were still rosy, but you thought perhaps your words had deepened the color. You ran your fingers along his scarred neck and across his cheek and into his hair. His eyes closed as he enjoyed your touch, and you studied him closely. He looked a little older than when you met him, with a few gray hairs here and there and maybe another wrinkle or two on his face. He'd been through a lot since then. He had the scars on his arm to prove it. But you didn't want to add emotional scars; he had plenty of those already. You just let him melt into your right hand as your left rested on his chest, and you looked at your diamond ring.

It was yours now, but sometimes you still thought of it as Carole Bradshaw's ring. Not in a bad way. Just as a form of recognition. It felt like an honor that you were wearing something so special. Maybe that was thanks in part to the words Bradley had read to you from his notebook. His recent thoughts and musings. But it was clear that some things were more important than others.

"I love you," he murmured, eyes still closed. "Are you ready for your newest playlist?"

"What is it?" you asked, his question pulling you back to the pier and the grin on his face.

"Just a little something I've been thinking about and finally put together." He pulled his earbuds out of his pocket and held one up for you to take. Then he tucked the other one in his own ear and kissed your nose. "It's all the songs I can remember from the silent disco. Plus what we listened to in the car that night. Oh, and a surprise track. Because I know you'll think it's funny."

Your heart swelled as you slid the earbud into place, and a few seconds later, the Cher song that played at the silent disco was on. And your heart was beating a little faster. And you couldn't stop smiling. "You really remembered all the songs we heard that night?"

Bradley shrugged. "I may have missed some. We'll add them if you remember more, okay?"

"I love this," you gasped, throwing your arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed your jaw and whispered, "I told you... I remember every minute I've spent with you. Or at least the way you've made me feel at any given time. Maybe the memories of some of the songs are a little hazy for me, but I remember how fucking good you made me feel that night. And how I was proud to be there with you. I still feel that way."

"Fuck, Bradley. You can't make me cry while Britney Spears is playing."

He laughed. "Okay. Let's dance then."

-----------------------

It was dark out. The other people who had been enjoying the view of the ocean from the pier had dissipated. An orange glow from the scattered lampposts softly lit your face like a dream. Bradley had taken to singing all the songs to you, just to hear you laugh and sing along yourself. The random mix of pop songs and '80s ballads and romantic Motown tunes kept a smile on your face. You laughed when Hey Soul Sister played, and you threatened to text Nat. And the whole time, Bradley held you close with his hands at your hips and waist.

"Oh," he said when the music went silent. "That's the end of the playlist."

"It's over?" you asked, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him longingly. You removed your earbud and handed it back to him.

"Baby Girl, it was almost three hours long," he informed you with a laugh.

You tipped your head back and groaned. "It was perfect." Then you gasped softly as his lips found the pretty expanse of your neck and chest which were on display for him. He was sucking gently on your collarbone as you said, "I knew I was in trouble after the first time you brought me here. You were so sincere that night."

Bradley hummed against your warm skin. "I was already thinking about spending the rest of my life with you."

"No! Stop it. We had just met." Your voice sounded breathy as he drew little shapes along your dress with his thumbs, your head still tipped back.

"Didn't matter. Already knew."

Your hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair, and he nibbled along the tops of your breasts as you made the sweetest little sounds. Your nipples were tight peaks against the fabric of your dress, and when Bradley ran his lips lower to feel you, he groaned. The texture of your lace bra filled his imagination with possibilities.

You tilted your head up, and when he met your eyes, you had the audacity to look surprised. "You're hard, Roo."

He raised one eyebrow at you, just short of rolling his eyes. "Listen... when two people love each other very, very much..."

Your laughter filled him. "Oh, is that how this works? You know, that sentence can be interpreted a lot of ways."

He had to close his eyes as you gently squeezed his length through his jeans. "It's how it works with you." He huffed out a breath when you licked his ear and added, "You make me greedy. I want everything."

You hummed softly as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Bradley glanced around to make sure you and he were truly alone as you whispered, "Then let's have everything. Even if it takes some time."

"I love that," he groaned as your cool hand dipped inside his boxer briefs and closed around him. One stroke and he was putty in your hands.

"And we'll start with the handjob that I was seriously contemplating giving you on our first date."

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. You're too much." Bradley bucked against your belly as you ran your thumb along his balls. He'd let you go a little further with this, but then he was taking you home for the night. Just a little more. Each stroke was incredible as he kissed your lips.

But when you started asking him questions, he should have known he was in trouble. Because you always got unbridled information out of him when you put him in situations like this. "What do you want for your birthday, Roo?"

He was watching your hand pass over his tip as he grunted, "Another sexy calendar."

"That can be arranged," you said sweetly. "And how do you feel about me starting to save up some money for a first anniversary trip?"

"Do it," he growled as you rubbed at his precum with your thumb. But then he wrenched his hips away, and your eyes were transfixed on his cock as it leapt for you.

"You don't want to finish here?" you asked, your eyes moving up his body to his face as you licked him from your thumb.

After he zipped himself carefully back in his jeans, he said, "I don't want to ruin your dress, and I don't want to get arrested. Let's go home." He didn't even wait for you to respond. He just turned and picked you up for a piggy back ride back to the Bronco.

The drive home was similar to that very first date. After you kissed him while he fumbled with your seat belt trying buckle you in, he turned on another playlist before he started the engine. But this time he was driving to the house that you shared, not the apartment you used to live in with Maria. And he didn't have to leave you for the night to prove to himself that he could, and that maybe he was good enough. He was your husband now, and you had deemed him good enough for you.

Bradley's hand was gripping your thigh as he saw the craftsman down the block. As soon as he was pulling into the driveway, you were crawling toward him, and he barely had the Bronco in park before you were straddling his thighs.

"I want you in every way." That sentence was the best example of how you wore him out emotionally. It was fucking beautiful, and he could spend all night just thinking about it. But you were kissing him now, and he was already aroused again as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

"You own me." You really seemed to love that response as your lips stayed gentle on his and your hand drifted down his body to his zipper again. It was so dark outside, even in the neighborhood, but Bradley could see the question in your eyes as you pulled back a little bit. Maybe you wanted to make sure he wanted this, too. Maybe you wanted him inside you instead of anything else. He just wanted to be with you. "Anything you want, Sweetheart."

"Okay."

He shimmied his jeans and underwear down his hips, lifting you up as well with a soft laugh. Then you took his hands in yours and guided them slowly up under your dress. He was treated to the sight of you unzipping your dress and unclasping your bra and pulling them down so he could see your pretty tits and peaked nipples. But then his hands froze under your dress.

"You changed your underwear. Earlier tonight. After I left the bedroom."

Your laughter had your tits bouncing just enough to distract Bradley and lure his lips to them.

"Oh!" you gasped as he sucked on you. "I did. I know you like the red ones, but I wanted these instead. Do you know which ones they are?"

That was a ridiculous question, and you knew it. He ran his thumb up your slit and could feel the satin fabric and the fancy embroidered letters as you bucked. He sucked harder until you called out his name and braced your hands on his shoulders. You were wearing the underwear you had specially made for the honeymoon.

"Of course I know, Mrs. Bradshaw."

"You passed the test!"

Bradley tugged your panties to the side and thrust up into you in one fluid motion until he bottomed out. "That's a test I will always pass."

Your hands were scrambling around his neck as you leaned in closer and kissed him. He led your hips in a slow roll with his hands on your ass and whispered, "Just. Like. That."

You kept the pace going, already panting softly as he brought one hand back up to your tits. His other fingers trailed around your hip, and he tucked them inside the front of your panties. As soon as he brushed your clit with his knuckle, you whined for him. "Daddy."

It had been a while since he heard you call him that. And fuck if he didn't love it. But you looked almost surprised that you'd said it out loud, eyes wide as you rode him.

"I fucking love it when you call me that," he crooned as he pinched your nipple. Your pussy was already fluttering around him as you kept that perfect tempo. Bradley pressed his mouth to yours as you babbled incoherently, and it was just a lost cause as you raked your fingers through his hair. He came inside you as he kept pressing his knuckle to your clit.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he coaxed as your movements sped up and then slowed as your cries echoed inside the Bronco. Then your lips were all over his before you abruptly broke away.

Your voice was a sweet little gasp as you said, "Don't make a mess on the upholstery."

With a laugh rumbling deep in his chest, Bradley opened the door and lifted you down from the driver's seat. "Just one of the many reasons we're married."

--------------------------

You and Bradley were lounging in bed on Sunday morning, and he was doing a really poor job of making you want to leave to meet Cam and Maria for brunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be golfing today?" you asked with a laugh as he pinned your wrists over your head on the pillow.

"Yep," he replied softly. "Supposed to meet Jake, Javy and Bob in less than an hour."

You sighed as his lips met the underside of your breast. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed then?"

"I'd rather go for round three and then drink champagne in the bathtub with you."

Now that did sound nice. The weekend had been so much fun. Going up to the hot sauce restaurant had been perfect. You were exhausted all over from having sex and taking Tramp on long beach walks and staying up too late watching movies last night. And Bradley finished reading his notebook to you and promised he'd start from the beginning all over again. Frankly, you could use a nap already, so you weren't really sure how Bradley was doing so well at the moment.

"I'm supposed to go to brunch," you whispered, and Bradley rolled off of you with a groan.

"I'll get side eye for a month from Maria and Cam if you don't go," he said. "So I guess I'll just go play golf."

"We can do round three later," you promised, kissing his ear as you climbed out of bed and started to get ready. "You want me to bring you back some avocado toast?" you asked with a smile.

He made a disgusted face. "You know I hate that stuff. I'll just day drink and eat protein bars like a normal person until you feed me dinner."

"If I decide to feed you dinner later."

Bradley's face looked panicked. "You have to. Please? Sweetheart," he called, springing out of bed and following you to the bathroom. "Please?"

"You're ridiculous, Bradley. Go get a pack of chicken out of the freezer, and I'll make you some Marry Me Rooster tonight."

"Thank you." He kissed you so long and so passionately, you actually felt a little dizzy when he walked out of the room. "He's ridiculous," you muttered as you pressed your fingertips to your lips.

When you finally made it to brunch fifteen minutes late, Cam was glaring at you. "Maria wouldn't let me order anything until you got here. And I'll just bet you're late because Lieutenant Commander Mustache was doing something nasty to you."

You burst into laughter as you slid into the booth next to him. "I mean... I was just helping him with his golf clubs."

"The two of you are fucking filthy," he replied, flagging down the waitress while you and Maria laughed.

Brunch with the two of them was always fun, and you were on your second mimosa when Bradley texted you.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Jake wants to know if we can watch Jeremiah tonight if he can manage to get Cat to agree to go to a movie. I told him I had to check with the boss. He laughed and said he should have just texted you instead of asking me... oh wait, I think he's texting you now. Why did I even bother? And then you got a text from Jake asking very nicely if he and Cat could drop Jeremiah off later on their way to a movie. You told them both yes, and when you got home from brunch, you started to clean up the living room. You found your underwear from last night on the coffee table, and your bra was draped over the arm of the couch.

"Don't look at me like that," you told Tramp. "We were just having a good time, okay?" Then you smiled, because you knew that your pup was going to love licking crumbs off of the one year old visitor and following him around the room. "Your friend is coming over. I expect you to be well behaved."

-----------------------------

"He's just so fucking cute."

"Roo! Stop swearing in front of the child!"

Bradley looked up at you from all fours on the living room floor. "Isn't he too young for it to matter?" he asked in all seriousness.

You were gaping at him like he was an idiot, and he started laughing. "The last thing I need is Cat mad at me because his first word is the f-word."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "If he doesn't learn it from me, then I'm sure he'll learn it from Jake."

"Yeah, well that's Jake's problem," you muttered, ducking back into the kitchen to check on dinner.

Bradley scooped Jeremiah up and said, "You're so freaking cute. Is that better?" The little bubble of laughter he got in response was most likely a yes, so he just went with it. "Let's see here. It's almost dinner time. And then I'll bet my hot wife will read us that book about trucks that you liked so much."

"I'll read it now," you said as you walked back into the room. "Dinner is not quite ready yet."

"Hell yes, she's going to read it to us now," Bradley said as he and Jeremiah crawled across the floor to the diaper bag where the book was stashed. He unzipped it and watched the kid reach in and pull everything out including the book. "Nice work. But my knees can't take much more."

With a groan, Bradley scooped him and the book up and carried them to the couch where you were sitting with Tramp. And you looked calm and relaxed as you held the child on your lap and opened the book. Your voice was so sweet, and you were so beautiful, Bradley noticed that Jeremiah seemed more interested in you than the story at times. And it made him smile, because that was pretty much the same way he always looked at you, too.

But he was done stressing about all of it. Bradley was in love with you, and the weekend was everything he wanted. Having a kid like Jeremiah all to yourselves would be a cherry on top of an already perfect life. And if you and he were both still keen on the idea next year, there were options to be discussed at length.

Bradley let himself hope, just the tiniest bit, that maybe you and he would get lucky before then. But he wouldn't drown in that hope like he had before. And he wouldn't let that hope overshadow how great things were right now. But he wouldn't abandon it either. He laughed as he thought about how insightful his notebook entry was going to be later tonight after Jeremiah got picked up.

"Should I read it again?" you asked, looking up at Bradley.

He kissed your cheek. "At least one more time, Sweetheart. We can't get enough of your voice."

You smiled as he and Jeremiah settled in to hear the favorite story again.

------------------------------

The perfect date to do over and over. Little Jeremiah is too sweet, I'm just hoping Cat and Jake are enjoying themselves, too. Just hang in there guys... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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nickfowlerrr · 7 months

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💌 I am wondering about your thoughts on Lance Tucker 👀👀

i hate him so much but also i'm entirely obsessed with him and i love him.

he is so awful but so hot and god just the idea of him!! i mean can you imagine him degrading you and just being so fucking mean while he has his way and takes you any way he pleases???

and he no doubt has a praise kink, so he'll force you to be vocal, too. he wants to hear how good he makes you feel, and he wants to hear you cry out how much you love being used by him.

and he just gets cockier and cockier each time your walls involuntarily squeeze his throbbing length impossibly tighter as he fucks you from behind, his big hands gripping your waist, grabbing at your doughy hips and belly as he gropes you feverishly, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust as your ass slaps against his hips, the room filled with the wet sounds of your fucking, his growls and taunts, your broken moans and mutterings of indescribable pleasure as he calls you a disgusting, pathetic whore for letting him fuck you, again and again. for begging for his big dick to fill up your tight little hole, for wanting him to cum inside you because you're so fucking desperate for every bit of him you can get.

and he fucking loves it when you agree, because you know as well as he does exactly what you are. what you are for him. because you're not just a slut, you're his slut. and as you collapse on his bed, thoroughly worn and leaking him, he smirks as you glare at him when he slaps your ass. you can play off you hate him all you want, but he sees the way you shoot daggers into him and any woman he so shamelessly flirts with near you, he feels you, on nights like these, when you're in bed with him and you think he's asleep. he feels you crawl closer to him, feels when you rest your head on his chest, feels when you snuggle into him.

he lets you think he doesn't, but he does.

and look, he's not one for commitment. he doesn't do all that lovey dovey stuff. but maybe there's something to be said about just how much he enjoys nights like these...and the way he's almost excited to pretend to be sleeping next to you, waiting for you to find him and wrap him in the warmth only you can provide him.

and maybe there's something to be said about the lack of other women he's brought home these past few months, not that you needed to know who he spends his time with, but still, he finds himself wanting to brag about it to you. just so you know how lucky you should feel to be the only one in his bed, no other reason, of course.

and he knows come morning, odds are you'll be gone by the time he wakes up. or, like the past few mornings, maybe you'll stay just a little longer, maybe have some breakfast. but he isn't concerned either way. because he knows, just as well as you do, that you'll be back tonight. and like every other night for the past week straight, you'll be in his bed.

right where he wants you.

right where you want to be.

right where you belong.

#q #what happened? i blacked out for like twenty minutes there #lance tucker #lance tucker x curvy!reader #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker drabble #lance tucker smut #sebastian stan characters #3k celebration #asks #tumblin theworldaway

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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months

Note

Gooooood day to you wonderful author! I hope you’re having a swell time and that those pesky wasps called negativity are swatted and shooed away. I’ve scrolled your work and have thoroughly enjoyed your stories and thoughts, so maybe if you would be so kind as to hear me out, I’d gladly pay you a penny for my thoughts!

The TADC work is brilliant, and thus I had an idea! What if this rambunctious crew, met a their S/O who is rather cartoony in nature and take to the world of the circus rather well, being bouncy, stretchy and all around a ball of joy as they embrace this toon power they’ve been given.

The idea came to me when I was fiddling with a sticky hand, whilst rewatching the pilot, and thought how amusing it would be to see someone embrace these looney toon abilities.

TADC cast x cartoony!reader !

yahoo i now have some down time to take a crack at requests today! im making gingerbread cookies, peppermint macarons w/ white chocolate ganache, and double chocolate macarons! all for a friend as a christmas gift! yahoo!! waiting for the first bath of macarons to dry out before baking; cant do both since i only have one decent sized pan that can pit my silicone mat without it bending... bent macarons..... thinks also dullahan by worthikids has me in a death grip rn so im playing that on loop while i tackle these requests i am going to go insane!

CAINE:

oh this man fully embraces it... in fact he even encourages it, i think! i mean caine himself is pretty whacky and cartoony, it only makes sense thats hes going to really enjoy you. i think his approval may lead to you being a little more rowdy than you normally would be with anyone else... likes to use IHAs to see how far your funny physics can go... bonus if you get those little... emote things when you're feeling an emotion particularly strongly (ex. hearts for adoration, the red vein for anger or annoyance, the blue line things to express sadness or disgust and the like. stuff like that idk i just think that would be neat). you guys get outright silly with it, totally funky, completely strange you know? whimsical, even! plus i like to think that caine has a touch more "cartoon physics" than the others but thats just admin being silly

POMNI:

obligatory "pomni is put off by it at first thanks to her being new and having to adjust to the physics of this new digital world.... well adjust to the digital world as a whole" so without a doubt, shes going to look mildly uncomfortable or confused when you just fully embrace to funky cartoon physics of the world. in fact it even looks like your physics are even more cartoony than everyone else's... odd.... i think it would take her some time to get used to it, but she wouldnt try to be rude about it or make you feel bad for her surprise discomfort, you know? doesnt like when your rambunctiousness makes you a little reckless, though, but thats just her care for you showing! you can be a little overwhelming for her, sometimes, by being all... bouncing off the walls... literally and physically... communication is key here if you guys want a decent relationship; be it romantic or platonic

RAGATHA:

for the most part she loves you for who you are, and your randomness and shenanigans do put a smile on her face more often than not. she just finds you so endearing, and finds your funky physics to be just as cute! buuuuut.... sometimes you can get overwhelming... ragatha already has so much on her plate, with being this beacon of optimism for herself and others, the IHAs, having to make sure no one is at each others throats.. i mean i know we only have the pilot to work off thus far but ragatha gives me mediator vibes. so getting back on topic, i do think that sometimes she needs to be firm and let you know to tone it down, or to let her have a moment to herself because the last thing she wants to do is make you feel bad if she gets too irritated... holds

JAX:

another obligatory thing but you can stretch and squash hes going to try to find a way to tie that in with a prank or one of his jokes. now if youre teaming up with him or the one being pranked really depends on how jax feels; because i think even his "partner in crime" wouldnt be immune to his bullshit. but consider, given the readers personality, what if theyre a little bit of a prankster themselves and they utilize their extra bounciness for pranks; effectively starting a prank war with jax. like imagine the chaos that would spew from something like that. i could go on a tangent for that, but the admin has a pea brain rn TToTT

has probably crushed you down into a ball shape and used you as a bowling ball. throws you. au where reader is in the circus but theyre the bowling ball jax throws at kinger

KINGER:

honestly he might mistake you for an npc at first and be wary of getting close to you because... well you arent real... except you are..! it takes him a while to realize that, he didnt know someone as whacky as you could exist, and hes been here for a long while! that said when you guys do befriend each other. please try to tone down any recklessness that may come with your rambunctiousness, this poor old man is already stressing out enough about things...! dont give him a heart attack,..! though i guess the bonus of having funky whacky body physics is that you give good hugs and/or cuddles since you can easily and comfortably wrap yourself around the other person.... ponders... so you know what, at least hes comforted via that

ZOOBLE:

easily irritated so you guys are going to have to work together to make things word; so zooble doesnt too overstimulated and so you dont have to change or greatly suppress yourself. say it with me: communication is key, baby!!! definitely takes a lot of time to make something work.... stealing this idea from jax's part, but if youre in the middle of a prank war with jax, where its just you and him going at each other zooble is going to be sliding you ideas and perhaps might come up with ideas to utilize your weird anatomy... very evil, they just want to see jax get karma, i think...

GANGLE:

also can get easily overwhelmed with your wild personality, but not so much in an "overstimulated" way and more so a... wait no i guess thats the best wording for it? plus gangle seems to be the type of person to enjoy her calm and quiet peaceful time, when shes not thrust into the chaos of an IHA... so similar to zooble, you guys are going to have to do a lot of communication and teamwork if you want a good relationship. gangle DOES feel bad, though, like she is inconveniencing you... please reassure her... not many ideas for the whacky physics thing here, simply because i dont think she would have any special thoughts about anyone's looks or bodies if that makes sense

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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randomreadingtimewithtsuki · 5 months

Note

Hii~

I dont know if you writing anything but if you have free time you can do maybe Senku x reader(Maybe he is little jealous because reader its energetic and gets along with everyone)

Thanks a lot♡♡♡♡

Hello!

I am writting, just painfully slowly !

Thank you for requesting! I hope this is of your liking! please let me know what you think!

Tsuki's note 1 : I took some liberty of creating some details for reader.... hope that's ok? I had so many ideas and i think i wrote nothing in the end? sorry :c

Tsuki's note 2 : I am so happy about this request! first dr stone one, thank you!

Tsuki's note 3: I am in a horrible pain. Tendinities again... so that's why requests are slow... also work... srry :c

You were revived by Tsukasa, at first you didn't quite get why he picked you. But after the science team won against Tsukasa's army, you slowly came to know why - you could explain things in a simple fashion, so many people understood what was going on. In other words, you were good at teaching.

Your ability did not go unnoticed by the science kingdom - they often came to ask you to "translate" what Senku was talking about. Thanks to that, you grew closer with the science team, being almost always involved on their projects.

Even though you were good at teaching it didn't mean you understood 100% of Senku's thought, so you ended up spending a lot of time with him in order to understand thoroughly what he had in mind.

Most people thought you two were a bad pair at first, since you were very energetic and ready to help whenever needed - even doing some heavy manual works! Senku in the other hand seemed to have half of your energy.

Being around Senku meant being friends with Taiju and Yuzuriha. You got along very well since your energy matched Taiju's and you loved to chat with Yuzuriha about whatever.

Soon enough you also got closer with Gen and Kohaku, and so many others! You also developed a special bond with Suika, you even asked her help to come up with tools to help you explain Senku's ideas with everyone.

Despite your sunshine like aura - something that Gen had mentioned - you did get tired in the end of the day, it's not easy to live in the stone world!

Even though Senku sometimes complained ( in an endearing way) about your energetic ways, he actually missed you quite a bit when you weren't around.

He would find himself scanning the lab and surroundings trying to find you. The lab became painfully quiet when you were gone. He loved watching you explain what he was thinking about!

He was happy someone understood what he meant and could pass it forward in a simple fashion, but above it all, he was proud of you.

Whenever he spotted you he would let out a small smile, but a pang on his chest would come around seeing you laughing and chatting with everyone.

Of course he was happy you got along well with everyone ( especially Taiju and Yuzuriha!), but... You being so far from the lab, was kinda... too quiet.

Well, Gen did notice that and the mentalist did not leave it alone. There were times that Gen suddenly called you to help in the lab because "he did not understand what it meant", or so he claimed.

You gladly went over the whole physics things, but you did find it odd that Gen didn't quite grasp it. I mean, he is a smart man and he often participates in the discussions of how to create something. Whatever, you mustn't judge, right?

However you could notice a slight smile of victory on Gen's face for some reason. But you are not gonna lie, you loved the smile Senku had whenever you helped Gen.

Despite Gen's little gimmicks to place you and Senku in the same room, what the boy truly loved was the moments between just the two of you. The moments that happened just because, by coincidence.

They were always times by the end of the day, when you were both tired and he could see you were low in battery, you would lean against his shoulder and just mumble about whatever crazy thing Taiju did or how amazingly fast Yuzuriha is at sewing.

Moments on which you helped him carry something around with a beautiful smile of your face. At those times you are asking him more details or to explain again what's next - your curiosity is just so cute!

All in all, Senku does feel lonely without you around, its all so quiet and gloomy. But he would never tell you up front, that he misses you. He does say he appreciates your work and trusts you blindly, but... He cannot bring himself to tell you how proud he is of you, how much he adores seeing you going around, even if it means having to share you with others.

You, on the other hand, are afraid to admit how nice it is to recharge around Senku. His presence is oddly calming. Being able to help him pass on the plan and being acknowledge by him, - through awkward head pats - makes you very happy. It feels like you are taking a bit of the weight off of his shoulders.

And neither of you can lie about how much you love Gen's gimmicks to approach you both. It's a little shared secret, that the only one who knows by whom it is shared by is Gen himself.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

I hope you enjoyed what i had to offer!

#dr stone x reader #dr stone #senku ishigami x reader #bah i feel like i blew this one #so excited to write ended up a mess....

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starfieldcanvas · 8 months

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hi not an expert but i thought i’d say something about the sysmed thing you posted

systems are formed by trauma at a young age causing a child’s personality to not form into one singular personality and instead split into multiple.

but theres also some people who “create” their system because they wanted to be a system, which just really isn’t possible. (or also “will” their system into being)

but i know most systems problems with the people who “create” their system (endogenic or willogenic) is the massive spreading of misinformation

i know people with did or osdd who when first realizing they were a system, and even still now, are told by endos that their trauma “isn’t enough” and that they’re endogenic too which also hurts people just discovering their a system thinking their endogenic because their trauma wasn’t enough or they don’t remember their trauma (which is a big part of did & osdd anyway, systems are typically formed to help the person deal with (by not dealing with) their trauma) and then people aren’t able to get the help they need

so, to someone pretty thoroughly outside the discourse, this largely reads like you've just got two different groups of people with similar conditions, and some people within each of those groups loudly assert that the other group cannot possibly be having the experience that group claims to be having. some traumagenic systems insist endogenic systems are "not really possible" and some endogenic systems think traumagenic systems "aren't really traumagenic" instead of both groups just taking for granted that obviously multiple kinds of experience can coexist without either invalidating the other.

it sounds strikingly similar to transmed discourse, so I understand why the "-med" language got borrowed.

about a dozen years ago I was up to date on the DID wiki page and was therefore fairly confident that so-called "multiple personalities" were all (I had to look this term up just now) iatrogenic, that is, caused by psychiatric leading. So when I came around to accepting that systems did seem to exist even in people who had never been to therapy, I assumed we were all lifting a middle finger to psychiatry's attempt to dismiss the system phenomenon. It's rather odd to learn that now there's a contingent insisting that they have psychiatric legitimacy but their endogenic "cousins" do not. like... y'all trust psychiatry to know what does and does not exist? when they largely didn't think traumagenic systems existed until very recently, and many within the institution still think it's 100% iatrogenic?

(i double checked with my local psychology graduate and indeed he was taught in school a decade ago that DID was a fringe diagnosis that did not really exist in modern practice.)

it's really just like transmeds then, isn't it? traumagenic systems have only barely gained a little bit of respect within the system and are still widely disbelieved, but instead of taking that as a sign that maybe psychiatry has only a very limited understanding of this phenomenon, some have decided to throw their endogenic cousins under the bus in a feeble, futile attempt to legitimize themselves.

whether or not endogenic systems really do "exist" in a meaningful way, i find the insistent rejection of them by people who are also frequently disbelieved by the institution to be shockingly shortsighted.

the primary objection to the possibility that endogenic systems exist cannot really be "some of them are assholes who spread misinformation". as that has literally nothing to do with whether or not they exist.

(and I feel obligated to ask if the "misinformation" in question is more often than not just "it's possible to be an endogenic system." because aphobes used to claim the statement "it's possible to be asexual as a minor" was grooming. so I don't take those kinds of accusations at face value anymore.)

or is it really just "the field of psychiatry has not agreed this experience is possible yet, so I am obligated to argue with anyone who reports their lived experience as counterevidence"? because as I have said, that just sounds like every past failure of the psychiatric imagination. advances in psychiatric research are very valuable, but if you're not familiar with the ways in which psychiatry as an institution tends to fall short of capturing reality, then you can't be trusted to wield its evidence in a responsible way.

are there contingents among the endogenic and traumagenic folks who simply believe in describing their own experience in appropriately limited terms, rather than aggressively insisting their experiences are universal for all systems???

#dove.txt #we're all mad here #wikipedia #lateral violence #long post #systems #multiplicity #plurality

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dangermousie · 1 year

Text

I am barely into my reread of 2ha but:

1. I am reading the Russian translation and WOW! The English translation is excellent but the Russian one is beyond - it has footnotes explaining all the slang (a lot of it!) and character combo puns, and name meanings etc. I love it. The footnotes are as long as the chapters :) Also, I have learned that apparently male duck = slang for a man living off sexual favors. Heh.

2. On a more serious note, it caught my attention that before taking poison, Taxian Jun transported all the remaining servants away. He did not murder them all as a last hurrah, or even leave them there on the peak to be possibly murdered by the invading army. TXJ is, by that point, a thoroughly mad monster who’s killed an untold amount of people but it’s these little bits that “don’t fit” that on reread go “hmmm” - like his innate humanity occasionally seeping through the cracks of the insanity and hatred prison the flower put him into.

2. Taxian Jun wakes up as Mo Ran, catalogues Rong Jiu next to him - his delicate, “girlish” looks and is repulsed. That is before he thinks about how RJ betrayed him; in fact his “ugh” is based solely on looks at this point - he remembers how in his past life he used to love those looks but now he’s wondering why and is feeling repulsed. That is so telling! Because elsewhere it talks how RJ’s type of looks reminds him of Shi Mei (and as we later find out, the fact that both are acting and betrayers is also similar) and yet here we are - Mo Ran with flower removed finds that kind of looks not at all his bag (which makes sense - if his type is Chu Wanning, older, icy, in control and, as Meatbun keeps reminding us, despite his gorgeous looks, not in the least delicate and girlish looking), then Shi Mei is not his type on the animal level. And yet he seemingly pines for Shi Mei and when you first read this book, you do not catch this odd misalignment at all, that without the flower spell, Mo Ran would have never even looked at Shi Mei as attractive whether CWN existed or not. But on reread! I love the way Meatbun sprinkles crumbs.

4. Mo Ran wonders how he actually got reborn. Ooooof!

5. The way Meatbun mentions “this may have been a matter of heredity” (OK not sure what’s the good word - heredity/genetics/background) about how Mo Ran built his foundation so quickly. There are so many hints, everything is so meticulously planned out!

6. When Xue Meng is cursing him out and Mo Ran is enjoying it - and it’s described as his enjoying feeling strong emotions directed at him. In fact, reading between the lines, everything seems stronger and brighter for him - emotions (his and others), colors, tastes, his own emotional state. That is because he is beginning to feel normally, without the spell on him, and it’s like coming out from beneath a thick, distorting piece of glass.

7. I love that he thinks of cutting Rong Jiu’s face but does not because Rong Jiu hasn’t harmed him yet and going down the same vengeance path would mean a bad end, why waste his second chance. All correct, all logical - but is it something the man who fried his wife and murdered half the world and then killed himself capable of? Once again, Meatbun, you genius!

8. The way TXJ didn’t even bother to put an inscription on his own grave. But what he has in the coffin are dumplings and pear blossom wine and the grave is under the haitang tree. He wants to die surrounded by CWN even though he has no idea with his conscious mind.

#cnovel #2ha

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moonlight-prose · 1 year

Text

HURT

➝ 02. ONLY ONES WHO KNOW

a/n: i am in deep for this man and it's only the second week of his show. not sure how i'll survive the rest of it. what did y'all think of episode 2? so, the story continues and i finally get to delve in a bit deeper on the relationship between these two. something i'm incredibly excited about. look out for some drabbles/interludes coming soon regarding this story. thanks for all the lovely comments on the last chapter. i'm glad you're all enjoying it!

summary: for days you traveled with a man you barely knew. until you finally gain the courage to ask him about the watch on his wrist.

word count: 4.7k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: not explicit yet but still 18+, cussing, violence, gore, angst, blood, tw death, gratuitous prose about the apocalypse setting, slow burn, tw food consumption.

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Silence filled the space between you, filling the void of what was never there. You’d been walking together for days, taking paths here and there through unknown streets and abandoned towns. It seemed that when Joel made the offer for you to accompany him, he simply meant he’ll show you the way. He wouldn’t be your friend, your buddy as you walked, hell he would barely even talk, and for a while you accepted that.

You kept yourself busy by looking at the scenery, digging through empty buildings for useful things, and fighting off the odd infected that still remained. For the first three days you told yourself that neither of you would stick around long enough to know the other. Eventually, you’d part ways. Meaning you would be alone once more. So what was the point of learning meaningless information, that would do nothing to help either of your situations

By the fourth day you were slowly losing your mind with just small worded responses, and questions that still hung in the air—frozen against the time that passed. You weren’t sure how long it would take to get to Boston. Shit you weren’t even sure where you were now, having crossed through town after town without ever finding a name or sign. All that would remain of them in your memory was the sight of the decay. Of the buildings slowly losing the remnant of a lifeless humanity that remained—nature overtaking what was rightfully hers.

You’d seen it everywhere. The brutalization of the apocalypse coming to full fruition before your very eyes. With humanity gone, the world could finally heal. You could recall learning about the fall of humanity in school; professors talked about what the world might look like once everyone disappeared. Would the world fall to pieces from the destruction humans caused, or would it adapt?

You never used to see it that way though. Never thought that nature was healing, so much as it was taking over. There was a time where you could remember hating the world—wishing for its ultimate demise. You wanted it all to end. Life, death…time. You didn’t care which one went first, as long as it took you with them.

But now that the years had passed and you’d finally grown up, you could see what you didn’t catch before. You were still alive…somehow. Yet still the pain remained. The grief that you tried so hard to forget about was stored inside your bag, carried around with each trudging step you continued to make in silence.

Silence had been your only companion for some time now, and you were thoroughly exhausted of its company.

Perhaps that’s why you eventually broke down and asked him the question that made him close himself off.

It was a reaction you never expected to happen. One that left you wracking your mind for what you could have said that made this journey even more uncomfortable.

“Where did you get your watch?”

You had asked him as you ate dinner—or at least a makeshift meal of something he killed. The fire crackled in the night air, creating warmth you hadn’t enjoyed in awhile. Reminding you of late nights in your childhood home. The fireplace emitting the soft warmth that lulled you to sleep on the couch. Before you could stop and think about it, you’d simply asked him—thinking it would start a small conversation.

Only for the question to hang in the air like the deafening silence. Each minute ticked by just a little bit slower because of it. You watched his entire body stiffen, his jaw twitching as he stopped chewing his food, and stared into the fire. The man you thought you knew as Joel, disappeared before your very eyes.

It was an honest question. One that usually created small talk. Except you couldn’t help but think that you’d fucked up in a big way once the words left your mouth. You’d seen him fiddle with the watch before. Tracing his finger along the wristband, touching the broken glass that still remained. You had half a mind to ask why he still wore it if it was broken. But then you realized…if you had something left from your old life—you’d keep it with you too.

Even if it stopped working.

The sun began to dip below the horizon again, bathing the small forest area you were currently traveling through, in darkness. Eventually you’d have to stop for the night, find a place that both of you deemed safe enough, but Joel seemed intent on continuing. The past few days he stopped before the sun began to dip below the trees. However, today he seemed different. Off. You didn’t want to blame your question on his actions that resembled a lost man simply putting one foot in front of the other, but you knew it had to be the cause.

So, you stopped walking. The small hideout was covered with larger rocks, creating a makeshift sitting area. You wondered if people used this before—thinking they could survive in the woods as the cities were torn apart.

It took him a minute to realize the echo of your footsteps didn’t follow his, forcing him to turn. A look remained in his eyes that told you everything you needed to know. He was lost. Though his expression was empty, he couldn’t hide the dazed glint in his eyes.

“We can’t stop here,” he said gruffly, his voice rough from not being used.

You shrugged, dropping your bag to the ground and starting to button up your coat. “You’re exhausted, I’m hungry, and there’s nothing we can do in the dark.”

“I’m not—” he started, his eyebrows pulling together.

“You know how to use a bow and arrow right?”

He watched you dig up the archaic weapon you both found in an abandoned house a day ago. Joel didn’t question why you picked it up, figuring that you knew how to use it. When in reality, you simply grabbed it in case it would come in handy. Weapons weren’t your forte. You barely learned how to shoot a fucking gun the right way. But he looked like he knew enough to use the weapon with ease; hopefully it would assist both of you in hunting down something larger to eat.

“If you didn’t know how to use it, why did you take it?”

Tracing the design on the side of the arrow with your eyes, you stepped away from the small hideout, heading towards the thicket of trees that were ahead of you. “Figured you knew how to use it,” you called over your shoulder. “Thought you might need another weapon.”

He didn’t respond, but he did follow you. The crunch of leaves underneath his boots, reverberating off the trees. If you weren’t careful you would attract something that neither of you would be able to outrun. You knew his bullets were too important to use hunting wise, but arrows could be reused if they stayed intact. Or at least you hoped that’s what would happen.

“We’ll need to go further out,” he said, walking past you and quickly taking the lead, his gun still strapped to his shoulder—his bag back with yours.

Once again, you walked in silence. Conversation didn’t seem to come easy to him you noticed, and rather than push him into talking, you allowed him to start it off. After the question, you knew that stepping where you didn’t belong wasn’t the best choice with Joel. He was reserved. Far more than you. His past would remain a mystery—you were okay with that—but it seemed he didn’t want to share anything other than hunting tips and small words shared over a meal.

He headed towards a small cliff, his eyes scanning the area for animals. Over the years, you’d seen hunters before. Been privy to how they worked, how they killed. They held an animalistic quality to their movements that reminded you too much of the infected. They killed as if they enjoyed it. You had killed yourself, but Joel was different. He moved like a predator, taking in his surroundings with a careful and analytical gaze. You noticed it while walking with him, watched him take note of everything that could be used as a weapon and every place he could hide.

Joel was a survivor, that much remained clear to you. He was dangerous beneath the surface. And you wondered how much he had to endure to get to this point. What had he seen or even done to stay alive as the world crumpled at his feet? You figured you’d never know the truth, and perhaps it was better that way.

What was the point of knowing this man? By the time you reached Boston, you would go your separate ways—following different paths in order to remain alive and somewhat human. You didn’t want to see his humanity, witness his vulnerabilities, because that would make parting so much harder.

What was the point in growing attached when eventually…time would tear you apart in the end anyways?

“You know what you’re doing with that?” he asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. Thankfully he ignored the fact that your gaze was trained on him.

Nodding, you notched the arrow in place, attempting to pull it back and aim well enough to make the shot. “Easy,” you replied, hearing the slight shake in your voice.

Fuck the nerves. You’ve killed before. Taken life from animals and people alike, but never like this. A gun had always been your preferred weapon, due to its easy nature, and you hated that Joel could see that. All you ever had to do before was aim and pull a trigger, but this called for something more. A skill you didn’t have in your arsenal.

He shook his head subtly, standing to his full height as you struggled with the weapon—your arms shaking beneath the strain of keeping the position.

“Relax,” he said, his hand settling on your tense shoulders. “You’ll hurt yourself if you do it this way.”

Huffing, you tried to listen to his words, forcing your body to release the tension that riddled it. “I told you I don’t know how to use this.”

“No, you didn’t.” If you turned your head you would have caught the small hint of a grin forming on his lips. “Lift your elbow more,” he stated, nudging it with his hand and causing a jolt to go through your arm.

“Like this?” Your words were soft as he shifted your movements with his hands that barely touched you.

Something moved in the distance, the rustling of branches telling you where to aim, but Joel was already way ahead of you. His hand slid over yours, helping you adjust your hold until the arrow went steady—pointing directly where it needed to go. The breath you released was shaky; your nerves showing through clearly enough for him to see. You hoped he had the decency to ignore them. To help you take the shot and move on, but his hand clasped over yours tighter, as if to reassure you.

Whatever existed in the air between you, unspoken and forever silent, worked its way through your body. Until the shake in your arms disappeared and your chest felt lighter.

Once again the rustling echoed in the distance, what you guessed to be a wild rabbit coming out to find food for itself. You didn’t give yourself time to wonder anymore, because Joel was nudging your foot forward with his. Pushing you into a stance that released the pressure you felt on your lower back. Taking in a breath, you felt him release his against the back of your neck, causing your hair to stand straight and chills to spread down your spine.

You wanted to lean into him. Feel his warmth a bit longer, but the animal was getting closer—your window closing with each passing second.

“You see it?” he murmured, head nodding in its direction.

“Yeah…I see it.”

Taking in a breath, you felt him guide your arm, the arrow in position, before you let it go. You could have sworn time slowed down as it flew through the air. Its movements, soundless amidst the echo of nature that resounded through the area. With bated breath, you watched it soar until it hit its mark with a thud—the animal collapsing into the brush. Dead.

Laughing, you dropped your arm and half expected him to shift away from you, but he remained. His hand, still clutching onto yours with a gentler touch. Rather than pull away, you allowed him to stand there—his breath brushing along your neck softly every few seconds. Neither of you spoke. Too afraid of breaking whatever this was, of losing the small comfort of his touch.

Eventually you would have to collect the rabbit and things would go back to the semblance of normal that came before. But for now…you weren’t two survivors. You weren’t on the brink of losing to the fear, giving into the idea of a quick death. For those small minutes, you were a woman being touched by a man.

You were human again.

“Good job,” he said, pulling away entirely and allowing the cold air to envelop you again.

You wondered if he felt it. The speed of your heartbeat, the longing that caused an ache to spread throughout your body. Did he long for touch too? Or had he cut himself off from that? You wanted to know the answer, but asking him questions never went well with you. So you stood there, watching him walk down the cliff and towards the animal whose life would sustain yours for just a bit longer.

That was the irony of the apocalypse. No matter how much you tried to escape it, death would remain.

Whether good or bad, it would forever be the only constant in this world.

The fire crackled in the night air. You watched as sparks floated up to the sky before being extinguished by oxygen. The sight made you smile, bringing you back to childhood memories of camping and college nights sitting at bonfires. You remembered fire being contiguous to joy, small moments of peace that came before the pain.

It was pure, a way to end the infection, but also a way to sustain life. So, you relished in it, sitting on ground beside your bag as Joel worked with the rabbit. He claimed that it needed to be cooked and eaten so you could move on—the smell attracting not just infected, but larger animals that might have survived too. You took his word as the truth, assisting him by bringing the fire to life and setting it in a makeshift pit.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” he asked, setting up the rabbit over the flames.

You grinned, pushing a piece of wood in closer. “He speaks,” you joked.

“When he needs to.” He didn’t smile, didn’t offer you anything other than the small retort, but you took it nonetheless.

“My brother. He used to be a Marine.” You pushed around the brush beneath the wood. “He’d always tell me that I needed to know two things. How to defend myself and how to build a fire. Somehow I was always better at building the fire.”

He didn’t comment, didn’t need to. You saw the way he listened to you, his eyes flickering back and forth from the fire before landing back on you. The moon hung low in the sky, the light from it illuminating the area around you, but the fire illuminated him. Casting shadows across his face and deepening the growing lines that were barely beginning to show with his age. You never asked how old he was—didn’t feel the need to—but now as you gazed at him, you wondered.

“I’m sorry about before,” you admitted, tearing your eyes away from him.

“Sorry ‘bout what?”

A crack echoed in the air as the wood snapped in two, falling to the ground and catching onto the brush.

“I shouldn’t have asked about your watch.” Once again he averted his attention elsewhere, turning the rabbit and avoiding your gaze. After a moment, you figured pushing past it was your best option. So you opted for something different. “What’s your name?”

He glanced up, eyebrows furrowing. “You know my name.”

“No, I mean your full name.”

“Hm.” He shifted, stretching his leg out. “Miller’s my last name.”

Your lips pulled up, teeth digging into your bottom lip. “Joel…Miller. It’s nice.”

He huffed slightly, almost a laugh but not quite. “What’s yours?”

“Hm.” You mused, glancing at the fire that ate away at the wood.

Your full name fell from your lips, foreign sounding to your ears after years of never hearing it. At times you felt like a myth that no one could remember—a forgotten deity with no name to hold as your own. When he repeated it, the sound curling around his tongue and filling your stomach with warmth, you knew you wanted to hear him say it again.

If only to remember who you used to be for a brief moment longer.

He used his knife to tear off pieces of meat, handing it to you quickly before it cooled off. The small gesture reminded you of the people you used to survive with. How they’d make sure everyone got enough to eat, handing off the food with a smile; the kindness in their hearts, extinguished at the first pull of a trigger. You wanted to remember them with the same nostalgia as your old life, but there was nothing to be had there.

“Where’s your brother now?” Joel asked, interrupting your train of memories.

A sour feeling spread through your stomach, your chest tightening with each intake of breath. While normally, you’d forgo answering questions about your past, it seemed only fair this time.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into the meat and chewing slowly, savoring its flavor. “I uh…I managed to get out of Boston before they bombed the place. Made it home to see him gone.”

He stayed quiet, giving you room to continue if you wanted to. You should have stopped there, having answered his question with the truth, but after so long of sitting in your grief—it begged you to spill free.

“I had a mom too,” you said, staring at the orange glow of the flames. “I thought I’d find her when I got back. I mean she raised a man to become a Marine so she obviously must have known how to fight.” The breath felt heavy in your lungs, the sting of tears burning your eyes. “She was dead when I got there. Didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye,” you finished bitterly, the memory still burned into your mind.

If you could go back you would in a heartbeat. If only to have a chance to speak to her again, to tell her all the things you left unsaid. The world fell to shit faster than anyone expected—the virus spreading too quickly to give you enough time. So, you remained with what little you could still remember about her—hoping it would be enough in the end.

Joel didn’t respond. He simply stared at his watch, his thumb brushing along the face of it tenderly. You almost didn’t want him to say anything. For the first time in days, you were okay with sitting in silence with him. Content to simply stare at the fire, finish your meal, and go on your way. You knew that if he spoke, if he answered your question, there’d be no going back…for either of you.

“Her name was Sarah,” he said, eyes not meeting yours and body rigid. The words made you freeze, eyes trained on his silhouette that the shadows played along.

You didn’t ask who she was, what she meant to him, because you knew he wouldn’t tell you either way. He said her name, and answered your question in his own way. It occurred to you that you were the only ones who knew each other's secret weight of grief and that was enough for you. Taking his words with a nod, you continued to eat until you finished off what he gave you; your stomach finally full after so long.

The smell of smoke filled your senses as you fought against the wave of exhaustion that riddled your body. You couldn’t sleep here. Not when the threat of infected remained dangerous in the woods. Although you weren’t sure what the fuck they’d be doing in the middle of nowhere anyways. They couldn’t survive here.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before you decided to lay down, your head propped up on your bag. The floor was uncomfortable; the rocks digging into your spine were the only thing keeping you awake, but you made do.

“What I wouldn’t give for some vodka,” you said, staring at the stars in the sky, trying to catch sight of some familiar constellations.

Joel scoffed, the sound still unfamiliar to your ears. “I’m more of a whiskey man myself.”

“Oh yeah? Where are you from?”

“Texas,” he replied, his southern drawl thicker as if to emphasize his point.

You snorted, staring at the moon. “Should’ve known with the way you can fucking shoot.”

The fire would die down soon enough, leaving the both of you to freeze. Yet that didn’t stop you from settling further into your position, in an attempt to find a comfortable spot. You missed the bed from a few days ago—how it was so soft beneath your body. So normal after the hell you’d been through. But you knew if you two had stayed there, you’d be left to deal with the consequences that were sure to come.

“Do you think they’ve got alcohol in Boston?” you blurted out, feeling your eyes grow heavy.

He sighed, shifting his movements until his back was pressed up against the boulder. “Don’t know. I hope so.”

“What else do you like Texas?”

“Ha ha,” he drawled, his eyes falling shut. “I used to own a guitar.”

That perked you up a bit. “Don’t tell me you can sing?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Shit,” you whispered. “A girl can dream.”

“What about you Boston?” You could have sworn you heard a smile in his voice.

You smirked. “Ha ha.” Crossing your arms, you did your best to fight sleep, knowing if something happened you needed to be ready to run. “I used to have a record collection my mom started for me as a kid.” He hummed, his eyes still shut. “Nothing you would have listened to since you probably like country music.”

His foot tapped your arm, bringing out a peal of laughter from your chest that was most likely caused by the delirium of your sleeplessness. The last time you got some rest was a few days ago in that house. Even if you wanted to fight against it, you knew you’d pass out regardless—leaving the both of you vulnerable to any attacks. You reasoned that an hour or two wouldn’t hurt and before you could question the feeling in your gut, you were gone.

Falling into the arms of exhaustion that beckoned you closer. Promising a safe haven of a dark void without pain.

“Boston. Wake up.” Someone shaking your shoulders, jolted you awake. Your eyes flew open, hand going to the gun on your side. Only to see Joel crouching over you—the morning sun barely coming up above the trees.

You groaned, head falling back against your bag. “There’s a nicer way of waking people up, you know. A good morning—”

His hand slapped over your mouth, fingers curling around your jaw to snap it shut as he raised a finger to his lips. Fear filled your body, the cold wash of anxiety spreading down your spine as you sat up slowly. His eyes were hard, expression mimicking his emotions. The longer you stared at him, the more you realized that the man you met had returned—the hunter who was ruthless when need be.

Before you could ask him what was going on, you heard it. The familiar chilling screech of an infected. Your body jolted, eyes going wide before you slowly reached for the gun and pulled it into your lap.

Joel nodded, letting go of your jaw before gesturing with his hand to follow him as he crouched behind the rocks. You had half a mind to ask what the fuck one of those things was doing all the way out here, but figured neither of you knew the answer. Both of you were bound to run into another one sooner or later. From the sound of it, you could tell it was a runner.

Probably some poor bastard who was out trying to survive on their own. A flash of sympathy shot through your heart, before you loaded a bullet into the chamber of your gun.

“We need to go around,” he said lowly, his gun at the ready—bow and arrow strapped across his back.

“Can’t we just kill it?”

He shook his head, slowly shifting around the rock. “There might be more than one.”

“Shit.” Exhaling, you nodded at him to move, ready to run if you had to.

Standing to your full height with him, you caught sight of the infected staggering around the forest. They were barely turned, the fungus not even grown out of its body yet. Which meant that they were fast, able to chase if they caught sight of you and Joel. Holding your breath, you crept around the trees with your weapon at the ready—the nerves now prominent in your racing heart.

Neither of you spoke, too afraid of catching its attention, but it was too late. Before you could pull him back, Joel’s boot landed on a stick, snapping it in two. The sound bounced off the trees—a terrifying stillness accompanying it, and for a moment you thought maybe you both got lucky. Maybe it didn’t hear.

Until it screeched, whipping around to see you and him standing there, guns at the ready.

Joel loaded his shotgun, pointing it at the runner, but it launched its body at him, taking him to the ground in a tackle. You heard Joel shout, his arm slamming against the thing’s throat to block a bite. Only you knew that wouldn’t work. Grabbing the fallen gun, you pointed it quickly, took the best aim you could, and pulled the trigger. It went off with a loud bang, blood splattering on the dirty floor. The gun slammed into your shoulder, nearly toppling you over, but you held steady as Joel pushed himself free. His head falling to the forest floor.

While he caught his breath, you surveyed the area for signs of more of them. But the forest remained silent. You must not be far from a city or town for one of those things to find you all the way out here. Thankfully it was only a runner and not something far worse. You’d heard the stories, knew what else resided in the darkness, and hoped that you’d never have to meet it.

“Not bad Boston,” he rasped.

You shrugged. “I had a good teacher,” you said, offering your hand to pull him up. He groaned as he stood, wiping the leaves off his pants. “Hey Joel.”

His eyes met yours—a flash of something you guessed to be concern going through them. “Yeah?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

For the first time in days you saw his lips pull up into a smile, his laugh hitting your ears and sending that familiar and welcome heat through your body.

“Good idea,” he replied, taking the shotgun back.

This time, you took the lead. Heading further into the trees with him following close behind. The sun continued to rise in the distance, morning finally greeting what remained of the world. All the while your brain replayed his laugh, the sound deep and raspy just like his voice, yet…more. You found that you wanted to hear him laugh again. Wanted to know what he sounded like when he was happy, but that you’d probably never get to witness it again.

Maybe in another life, you reasoned to yourself and that thought alone was good enough for you.

For now.

#joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #the last of us fic #the last of us #my writing

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mychlapci · 3 months

Note

Megatitties! Apologies for the 2nd post sent recently cause i wanna add onto the other anon who spoke about the megaboobs.

Megatron would definitely feed his bitlets whenever they demanded it, 100% spoiling them because they’re so demanding and he’s proud of their angry, half-babbled glyphs repeated until their carrier finally scoops them up, opens his chest-plates and let them greedily drink from his nozzles, giving the odd growl when they didnt share with their eachother. Him being oddly soft when one of the sparklings falls asleep, still sleepily trying to hoard a nozzle for itself, that he ends up sitting on his throne, going over some datawork with sleeping bitlets cuddling against his titties <3

Maybe it gets out to the autobots that Megatron has bitties, and now theres faction wide interrogation, clearly led by prowl and Maybe Optimus, because why do 4/5 of the bitties have blue optics. Unless Megatron carries that gene (he 100% doesnt since 1 little bitty has red optics) the sire is an autobot. Prowl has his suspicions and intel-reports show that these tiny bitlets share a decent amount of red..

Nobody admits it, nobody wants to admit it. But when a intel-report comes in saying Megatron is sparked again, all hell breaks loose in the middle of a battlefield. Nobody can do anything to stop prowl as he storms over to Optimus and DEMANDS an explanation. The Decepticons have definitely made bets on who would be bold enough to fuck their leader until he was sparked up, Who would put their spike anywhere near their crazy, stubborn, psychotic leader’s valve? And who would do it TWICE? But now they’re all making bets on how many times both leaders have gone at it away from the battlefield, or even on the battlefield depending on the horny meter. And making bets on when Prowl is gonna crash / bluescreen.

- Chase anon <3

Also, whats your opinion on Megaratch and Megop? I definitely favourite Megaratch but rambling about the two leaders, because technically they can say them fucking isnt treason since they make the rules, is needed.

oh god, Megatron's angry little bitlets rocking red plating and blue optics, which isn't something that the autobots find out until someone who was in Megatron's capture escapes and explains to the high command that one of their comrades, not pointing any fingers, seemed to have put their dick inside Megatron and created these oddly adorable abominations. The decepticons clearly realize that their leader's sparklings were co-created by an autobot, but none of them are going to say anything about it, what are you, nuts? The only one who says anything is Starscream, and he got his ass kicked by Megatron the moment the words “autobot spike” left his mouth. So everyone is just silently placing bets, but they're pretty sure it's gotta be Optimus. They theorized Prowl for a while, but the guy just isn't red enough.

Prowl literally realizing it must be Optimus the first time he sees the sparklings on a recording Jazz brought back from a spy mission, but he tries to not jump to conclusions. Until rumour comes around that Megatron is sparkled again. This means that sometime during their last big battle, Optimus and Megatron must have strayed into the shadows and their dear, beloved, righteous leader shoved his spike into Megatron, out of all bots, and made him mewl over and over again until his gestation tank was so full his frame had no choice but to start making another batch of bitlets. The first batch is still getting breastfed, Optimus, what the fuck - Prowl, probably, in a fit of rage, not really aware what he's even saying anymore.

also btw Chase anon… why must your brain be so big. i am now forced to admit that megaratch is actually my guilty pleasure ship. I love megop dearly with my life, theyre my toxic old man yaoi, but… shit, you hit the nail on the head. Can I just indulge and say... Prowl screaming at Optimus, demanding to know what was he thinking, and Optimus is thoroughly confused until Prowl just straight up asks him if he'd fucked Megatron. Everyone's so angry that their bets fell through when Optimus swears he didn't. Well... then who did the blue optics and red paint come from?

#valveplug #pregnancy mention

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andydrysdalerogers · 2 months

Text

Undercover ~ Three ~ Coffee

Pairings: Jake Jensen and OFC Samantha Matthews

The Losers have made it back to their families and are out. Well, almost. A threat against the British crown needs to be handled and the CIA has tapped the Losers for one final mission. And they are sending in Jensen.

Jake Jensen hasn't been a civilian in years but now he's undercover to find out why his target is where he is and who he's after.

Enter Sam, someone who Jake doesn't expect and well, he didn't know he was looking for.

Can Jake handle his mission and falling in love? Especially when the truth leads to a bigger mission than expected?

*~* A Jake Jensen Story *~*

Author's note: this story continues after the events of the Losers. I may weave other characters into it but they are all minor. THE TAGLIST IS OPEN.

The playlist is available on Spotify.

cover photo by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst, death, smut, and a bunch of stuff a can’t say because it gives away the plot!

Previous: Two ~ Sam

Story Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The next morning, Jake bounced on his heels at his desk, begging the clock to go faster. He had a date. Was it a date? Was it just bonding? Am I crazy? Jake’s mind began to swirl that he missed when his calendar went off, his 10AM appointment upon him.

“Yo, boss?” Fred pulled Jake out of his mind. “You gonna snooze that or something?”

“Shit, sorry.” Jake hit the keyboard and grabbed his mug. “Going for coffee.” He almost ran to the break room. He slowed down but before he entered, he took a deep breath. “You got this Jakey,” he told himself. He walked in and the room was empty. His shoulders sagged but he still went into the room to pour himself a cup. Maybe she forgot?

“Sorry,” he turned to see Sam there, this time in a black and white polka dot shirt and full black skirt. “Mike had me finish something before I could escape.”

“No, its fine.” Jake smiled at the natural beauty in front of him. “How do you take it?”

She tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

Jake stared at her. “Coffee! I mean, how do you take your coffee?” A faint tinge of pink graced his cheeks.

“Cream and two sugars.” She giggled. “Filter, I get it now.”

“Yeah, I don’t think about it sometimes.” He made the coffee and handed her the mug. “So, I noticed you have a very faint accent.”

“Oh, yeah, I was in England for the first few years before my mum and I moved to New York. She and my dad split, and she moved here. I was actually born here but moved right after and then back when I was about five.”

“Very cool. Do you have any siblings?”

“Older brother. From my dad’s first marriage. Tony. He’s 12 years older than I am.”

“And how old are you? I’m 29.” Sam looked at him curiously until he realized he just asked for a woman’s age. “Shit. Ok, I’m just gonna… yeah.” He turned to leave.

“Twenty-five.” He turned back. “I’m 25, well as of next month.” She smiled as if the question hadn’t bothered her.

Jake was stunned. Most women would have just rebuffed him and moved on. But not Sam. She understood him and for some odd reason, was interested. He didn’t know how to carry on the conversation. “So, any pets?”

“A cat, Bowie.” She took out her phone to show him a picture of a black cat.

“You know cats can make a thousand different sounds, but dogs can only make ten?” Jensen smiled. “Cats, not to be trusted.”

Sam let out peals of laughter which Jake thoroughly enjoyed. “That’s brilliant. No wonder I think Bowie is talking to me.” She looked at her watch. “Dammit. Break is over.”

“Walk you back?”

“Thank you.” The walked side by side until Jake got the courage to speak again. “I liked this. Coffee.”

“Me too. It’s nice to get to know someone.” Sam gave him a beautiful smile. He was just about say something else when he heard…

“Miss Matthews. Coffee break?”

Sam had her back to Mike’s office and grimaced. John Fitzpatrick was coming out of Mike’s office. She plastered what Jake could tell was a fake smile and turned around. “Mr. Fitzgerald, anything you or Mike needed?”

“No darling, thank you. Just checking in on a budgetary matter with Mike.” He finally noticed Jake. “Oh, Jake the IT manager.”

“Mr. Fitzpatrick,” Jake nodded to him. “Uh, Sam, I’ll talk to you later.” He turned on his heel and left, turning the corner out of sight. He stayed close to listen in.

“Well Mike, let me know if you have any questions on that discrepancy…”

“I’ll look into it. Thanks John. Sam, can you come in here please?”

Jake moved to quickly to look like he was going back to his desk when he saw John walk away, a smug look on his face. Jake knew he had about 30 seconds to install the Trojan horse from his computer to the accounting computer and start working through the files. He swiftly inserted the drive and navigated to the network to find the accounting dedicated server. He left his virus and backed out before the security team, well his own team, had detected him.

“Jensen is in,” he mumbled to himself. He took a sip of his coffee and put his hands behind his head. Step one of the mission was complete.

Jake put on his jacket and packed up his gear into his back pack when he heard a knock. He looked up to see Sam with her own jacket on and her bag in hand. “Walk you out?” she offered.

“That was my line. baby.”

Sam blushed at the nickname and smiled shyly at Jake. “Yes, yes it is.”

Jake grinned at her blush. “Walk you out?”

“Lead the way.”

They chatted down to the garage and before Sam could get into her car, Jake cleared his throat. “So, I was wondering, if, I mean, you don’t have to, but, maybe, if you want…”

“I would love to get a drink with you, Jake.” Sam’s eyes shone as Jake looked down at her.

“Good, I mean, yeah, so tomorrow?”

“Sure, I can meet you at the bar, Sara Lee’s at 7?”

“Yes absolutely. But I’ll still get coffee with you tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. Good night Jake.”

“Good night, Sam.” He opened the door for her. “Wait, the bar is really called Sara Lee’s?”

“Yep,” with a pop. “Because nobody does it like Sara Lee’s.” She shot him a wink and a smile and got in.

Jake smiled and watched as she drove off. “So that’s why you haven’t answered any text.”

Jake jumped in the air. “Jesus, Pooch don’t do that.”

Pooch laughed as the rest of the Losers approached. “We’re just checking in. The garage is secure?” Clay said.

“Yeah, I looped the camera for the next 20 minutes,” Jake said as he looked around. “I planted the Trojan horse through a back door and its been running to check for anything on Fitzgerald’s computer. We need a way to tap any personal computers or data pads he may have at home.”

“Have you made contact with him?”

“Yeah, we met in the break room. He’s a douche.” Jake sniffed.

“And the girl?” Clay studied his man. “Who is she?”

“Sam Matthews. Samantha. She’s the assistant for my VP, Mike Anderson.”

“Uh huh.” Pooch smirked. “She’s cute.”

“She’s beautiful,” Jake automatically responds and then turns beet red. “I mean…”

Clay laughs. “Nothing wrong with dating if it keeps up your cover. And she is beautiful.”

Jensen could feel himself being red all over when Aisha came up to him. “Just be yourself Jake. She already likes you, you don’t have to be over the top.”

“Thank Aisha.” Jake rubbed the back of his head. “I gotta go. I have dinner with my family. Friday?”

“Friday. Good work Jensen,” Clay patted his back.

Jake drove to his parents’ house, lost in thought. He was supposed to just be on a mission, get the bad guy, not meet the girl of his dreams. Sam is, for all intents and purposes, perfect. As he pulled into the driveway, he parked and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. All he could see was Sam. Her beautiful face, full, kissable lips. He sighed, wishing he could see her now. He could imagine, cupping her face, staring deep into those beautiful eyes before he leaned down and...

Knock, knock, knock.

Jake jumped as he looked out the window and saw his mom, Laura, right outside. He opened the door and climbed out. “Everything alright Jakey?”

“I’m fine Mom. Just tired.” He hugged her and put his arm around her, leading her back to the house. “How was your day?”

“Oh, good, Savvy called. Everyone is feeling better. They invited us to the house this weekend. Boston in the fall is just beautiful.”

“That’s great Ma.” Jake looked around. “Hey dad.”

Adam looked up from the TV. “Hey son.” His attention went back to the TV.

“Adam, turn that off, honestly. Your only child comes for dinner and that’s how you act?” Laura had her hands on her hip. Adam sighed as he turned it off and hauled himself off the couch to hug his son. “Dinner is about ready.”

“Whatcha making?” Jake sniffed the air.

“Pot roast and mash.”

Jake groaned with delight. “That is definitely something I missed Ma; your cooking.” He sat on his spot at the table, his father at his as his mother dished up the food. They ate in silence for a moment before Laura cleared her throat.

“So how is the new job going? Do you like it enough to stay around?”

Jake choked slightly. “Uh, yeah, I like it. I don’t know if I’ll stay yet.” He felt his ears get red which his father noticed.

“Who’s the girl?”

Jake really choked this time and Adam jumped up to clap him on the back. After a swallow of water, Jake turned to his dad. “How did…”

“You get red, just like I do when I talked about your mother in the beginning. So, who is she?”

Jake flushed. “Her name is Sam. Samantha. She is my boss’s assistant. She’s just…” he sighed… “amazing.”

Laura smiled. “Pretty?”

“Beautiful Ma, just beautiful. And she likes me too. Asked me to a drink down at Sara Lee’s.”

“Nobody does drinks like Sara Lee’s,” Adam said with a smirk. “Are you respectful?”

“Of course dad, just like you taught me. She’s got this long hair that’s kinda golden at the tips and these beautiful eyes. A really subtle accent, English, but she is just...” he blew out his breath, “amazing.”

“Aww, my baby boy has a crush on a girl.” Laura pinched his cheek and Jake jerked his head away.

“Ma! Seriously!”

Adam just laughed. The blush on his son’s cheek was enough to tell him that this girl was special.

Sam was reading in her living room when her phone rang. She picked it up and smiled. “Hi papa.”

“Hello my princess. How are you?”

“I’m good, just reading.” Sam smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m good princess. Just learning to be retired. Your brother is handling the job for the most part.”

“That’s good. I know Tony will be great.” Sam chewed her lip. Her father’s business was not something she liked to talk about. “So when are you coming to visit me?”

“Samantha, you know how hard it is for me to travel. It would be bringing unwanted attention.”

She frowned. “I know. I just thought I would ask.”

“How is your mother?” Having her father change topics was a sign.

“She’s good, dating a painter, I think. I haven’t spoken to her in a couple of days.”

“And you? Anyone special?”

Sam blushed. “Well, there is one guy...”

“Interesting.” She could hear a muffled voice in the background. “I’m sorry princess, I have to go. Just be careful please. You are still precious, remember that.”

“I know papa. I love you.”

“I love you. Talk later. Oh, and try to call your brother.”

“My brother hates me, remember?”

She heard her father sigh. “No, he doesn’t. He’s just upset at my actions. I speak to you later.”

“Yeah, ok. Bye papa.”

“Bye princess.”

Sam stared at her phone after she hung up. She and Anthony had a tumultuous relationship due to their father having an affair with her mother. To be fair, Anthony’s mother had died a couple of years prior but that didn’t stop Anthony from resenting Sam. She sighed and sent a message.

Sam: I still love you, big brother

After no response, she got ready for bed when her phone ding.

Jake: Sweet dreams princess

At that Sam smiled.

Sam: See you there

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #Jake jensen #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fic #the losers #the losers au #chris evans fic #ofc Samantha matthews #British royalty au #Jake jensen au #Jake jensen x Samantha matthews #undercover

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luvring · 9 months

Note

Niaaaa //wailing, heaving, rolling around on the floor

I cannot stress enough how much I adore your works and love rereading all of them from time to time

Am here to ask if you have any more touchstarved hcs,, or thoughts,, im dying over here

Literally starved for content

gn!reader | REG!!! //waving both hands, jumping up and down giggling. Thank U. this is an honour and incredible compliment. scary bc my old works are...old... but Thank u. U mean the world 2 Me. i didn't thoroughly check what hcs i've already said so sorry there's repeats orz

i'm not saying the LIs would all go to the barbie movie but if someone does make art of that please let me know and tag me especially if it has the i am kenough shirt

they ruined my life saying kuras doesn't eat how is he going to join my girl dinners now. /j but i'll continue to believe he can appreciate how good a meal looks! & he can still sit with you and try to get his hands on your favourite meals for you to enjoy :-)

that thing where they do push-ups and kiss you when they come down with...leander was the first one i thought of tbh. but if you aren't able to lie underneath him he'd just ask for the same amount once he's done!

leander doing the thing he did in the prologue where he took his glove off with his teeth every so often just to see your reaction. like if you react in an amusing flustered staring at him kind of way. i couldn't relate personally (lying) (liar) (huge lie)

i'm sorry for my leander bias but if one of his favourite things is MASQUERADES and we don't see him at a MASQUERADE well it's so joever like him in a suit and mask and showing off how he knows how to fit in because of his past and also he can waltz now or something I'm dizzy i can't breathe

ais using 0.5 camera on people while they're caught off guard. him asking you to take a video of the fight For him because he's going to be part of it. vere selfie folder. mhin 5 followers no icon no posts gc lurker.

mhin would stick to enough of a routine that they'd have a specific spot to sit at different places,,, like a cafe or the library or bus... corner. it's one of the corners. and when someone's taken the spot they're thrown off then have to walk around for a new one (not happy about this) but take it back once they leave. you spend enough time together and they start keeping the spot next to them open for you

^ also they'd always order the exact same thing at restaurants. wouldn't like going to a new place because now they have to find a new default order. just like me fr

is no one going to talk about the idea that vere doesn't like snow because he's chained outside and it's cold . to be fair it could Totally be for a less sad reason like how it gets his Fur Wet (valid) but i've been thinking about that possible angst

also his gloves are just. like. ? odd. inverse drawing gloves. claws... but why only the 3 fingers.... btw his outfit means a constant thigh holding opportunity

kuras and mhin having long conversations about alchemy and sharing their findings with each other ;; mhin at some point getting just a Little excited about something and kuras choosing not to comment on it but being happy to see them let their walls down a little ;; o(-(

ais coming into your room and wordlessly lying next to you in bed and when asked if he needs something he says no? with a smile. he was just feeling lonely and wanted to find you

saying "you look like you can't swim" or "you are an odd individual" to any and all of them . something about it is amusing to me

if you celebrate christmas or like the idea of kissing underneath some mistletoe,, i think it's a good thought that you hold one over your head and wait for a kiss Or that Some of the LIs would Definitely do that themselves.

who do you guys think has the saddest birthday celebration (/no celebration at all.) who's relating to girls who spend their birthday alone and crying and be honest with me

rambling but i just want to say kuras's monster form looks sick as FUCK and i'm so excited for it. it looks like whatever left the scar on his hand seems to be there.. in his monster form...? i thought it was a claw but the positioning is under/through the hand so like??. do i have to bring up the significance of that if true

also is his outfit (minus his jacket)...like a jumpsuit... or can i just not tell because of his three (?) belts. that's not how you wear belts btw /lh. and is the sheer part Part of the top or is he wearing something sheer underneath the white. his sleeves are also sheer but the neckline means his shoulders are out . take off ur jacket

also mhin !! i want to know how big they get and if the transformation is sickening to watch and if they're still aware of everything around them and !!! THERE IS A SPINE(?) COMING OUT FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE SILHOUETTE THAT I NEED TO SEE NOW! & i'm assuming the senobium is Shit so even if we do get in there and get 'help' there would be another shitty price to pay. possible bad ending...??

scenes with all their monster forms where you're asked if you're scared and you say no / yes but you care about them and they falter because they didn't expect that

true good ending is everyone meeting at the wet wick and making a toast and laughing and saying this truly was our touchstarved before the credits roll

#touchstarved #touchstarved ais #touchstarved leander #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved vere #redspring pls continue to drop lore. gimme. GImemeeme...#not a single one of these birthdays sound good to me btw. closest to happy is how leander would say all drinks on him for the night #but it doesnt change the fact he has no close friends 💀💀#Im serious about the masquerade scene bc i need to see him in a formal setting. how hes different but still charming/the same in a way etc

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ginnyw-potter · 1 year

Text

Kissing is serious business

Written for Day 17 of @hinnyfest

Prompt: "We're locked up"

Also posted on AO3

“Harry, can you go into the pantry? I think Ginny needs some help getting something off a high shelf,” Fred asked casually.

Harry should have known, should have realised this was an odd request considering Fred was nearly the same height as him but he was happy to help out Ginny so he went into the kitchen without a second thought and into the pantry. Ginny looked at him curiously when he entered.

They both jumped in surprise when the door slammed behind Harry. Harry spun around at the door and tried the door handle. It was locked.

He took out his wand “Alohomora.”

Nothing happened.

“Lumos.” He turned around at Ginny, raising his wand so they could see each other. “We’re locked up.”

Ginny had her arms crossed and a frown appeared between her brows. She pushed Harry away and tried the door as well. Then she pounded on the door. “Fred! I know this was you. I don’t know what game you’re playing but I will kill you if you don’t let us out of here right now!”

It was silent for a moment. Harry stepped back.

“Ah, but we can’t do that,” Fred’s voice came from the other side.

“And why the fuck not?” Ginny responded, her arms folded again.

“Well, someone brought something to our attention and we, uh, thought we’d help things along,” George spoke now.

Harry put his wand on the pantry shelf so he didn’t have to hold it up. He was trying to wrack his brain about what this could be but he came up with nothing.

Then Hermione’s voice came, sounding extremely apologetic. “I am so sorry.”

“What about?” asked Harry, the fact that Hermione was involved, made this even stranger.

“As much as Ginny likes to pretend she’s just friends with Harry now, I like to bet a good Galleon or two she still likes Harry…” George said, sounding far too happy.

Harry saw Ginny freeze, her eyes trained on the door. He assumed if he could see her face, she’d be blushing madly the way she would before they became friends.

“And then Hermione just so happened to mention that she was convinced Harriekins developed feelings for our darling sister so we decided to take one for the team. Mum would be delighted, would she not?” George spoke again.

“Yes, I’d think so, George,” Fred replied, sounding equally happy.

Now Harry froze and he swallowed hard. Did he? He had never given it much thought. All he knew was that the room was always a little brighter when she walked in it, his mood instantly lifted when they talked.

Ginny turned around at him slowly, her arms unfolding as her eyes landed on him. “Harry?”

Wherever this conversation was going, he did not need the audience outside to hear it. He cast Muffliato on the door. “Now they can’t hear us.”

“Are they snogging? I don’t hear a thing,” Fred commented. “Alright, that was easy.”

“No, you idiots, Harry probably cast a Muffliato charm!” Hermione replied before they could hear her stalking off.

“I am going to kill my brothers,” Ginny muttered, her face now red with anger.

“Not if I get to them first.” Harry offered her a lop-sided grin, momentarily forgetting their predicament.

A small smile appeared on her face too. She looked at him for a minute.

“Is it true?” she asked so softly he almost didn’t hear her.

Harry’s eyes flitted away from her, suddenly finding a jar of pickles particularly interesting. “I… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know ?”

Her tone was so sharp, it caused him to look right back at her. She looked thoroughly confused and Harry could not blame her, he was feeling rather confused himself.

“How can you not know? It is a yes or no situation.”

Her tone was almost accusatory and it caused Harry to take a step back instinctively. His back hit the shelves.

“Maybe for you it is!” he retorted. “I don’t know… I don’t not like you… I think…”

Ginny covered her face with her hands. “Merlin, this is absolutely ridiculous!”

“Ginny. Gin,” he said, desperate to calm her down. This was unfair to her, he knew that much. “I am shit at both feelings and girls, you know that. Combine the two and my brain stops working entirely.” His hands folded together so he wouldn’t be tempted to fidget.

“Didn’t think you were that self-aware,” she said, cocking her head as her hands landed on her hips.

“Thanks,” he said and he couldn’t help the next grin breaking across his face, it was just the side-effect of hanging around Ginny.

He suddenly forgot what point he was trying to make because the realisation hit him like a quaffle to the face. His face dropped as all the puzzle pieces fell together. All the times the beast in his chest had reared its head, it was never some brotherly feeling, it was jealousy. The reason the room brightened when she walked into it had nothing to do with her radiant hair that was reflecting every ray of sunshine, it was caused by the fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach when he spotted her. When they talked it made all his worries fade into the background and it made him happy because that meant she was paying attention to him and him only.

“Harry, are you alright?” Ginny asked with worry when she noticed his expression drop and she stepped towards him to look closer at him.

This caused a panic to rise within him, he was not ready to face this new reality, not ready to face her, but they were stuck in a pantry together. His back pressed against the shelves more in a desperate and useless attempt to keep his distance from her.

“It’s true,” he mumbled to himself. Hermione had been right.

“What?” Ginny asked, taking another step closer so she could hear him better.

Too close and he had nowhere to go, they were almost standing toe to toe now.

There was no way out of this. Harry’s stomach seemed to twist itself into a hundred knots as his eyes met her hazel ones, which were filled with worry. He took a deep breath.

“Hermione was right, it is true.” He was breathing rather hard, as if he had just run up several flights of stairs.

Ginny went to speak but then closed her mouth again. Her gaze dropped down and landed somewhere on his chest.

“Gin?” he tried, his voice sounded almost like a squeak.

She shook her head, a hand running through her hair in agitation, making her hair cascade over her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

If he could back up further through the shelves, he would have done so. His hands landed on the shelves behind him. “Well, you see, when two people like each other…”

Ginny’s brow furrowed deeper as her eyes met his once again. Then her mouth dropped in a silent ‘O’ as she gathered what he had meant. “Should we kiss now?”

“I am not opposed to that…” Harry replied, his hands dropping off the shelf.

“Well, not if you don’t want to!” Ginny shot back, her face red.

He reached out to her, his hands coming to rest on her waist and he pulled her flush against him. Ginny looked up at him, her eyes wide. He dipped his head and their lips finally met. For a moment, Ginny froze before she sank into him altogether. Her hands came up to his face to hold him close as she angled her head for better access. Their lips were tentative for a moment, exploring the feel of each other's lips, Ginny’s were soft as they slid against his. Then they both gained confidence and their kiss became more greedy, nipping at each other eagerly. Nothing else was real in the world anymore, it was just him and Ginny, clinging to each other for dear life.

His hands moved, his arms curling around her, she fitted perfectly there in his arms. His tongue snaked past his lips, running across hers. She opened her lips for him without much hesitation, the kiss deepening as her arms wrapped around his neck.

When they finally broke apart, he was not sure how much time had passed. The knots in his stomach had resolved into butterflies, his heart was pounding and Ginny was beaming up at him.

He took a few deep breaths, sucking much-needed air into his lungs, hoping his heart would slow down a little. He hugged her to him and she tucked her head against his chest. His thumb rubbed against her back.

Suddenly she moved her head towards his left and pressed her ear against his chest. She looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow and a teasing smile. She was listening to his rapid heartbeat.

Without a word he peeled one of her arms off him and took a hold of her wrist, putting a finger on it to find her pulse. He met her eyes with an equally quirked eyebrow. Her heart was beating at least as fast as his.

He let go of her wrist again and brought his hand to her, cupping her face. She allowed him to guide her back up to his lips. They kissed slowly this time, but Harry ended up grinning out of pure delight and she was grinning too and they weren’t really managing to kiss at all and they were both reduced to giggles, lips barely apart.

Harry tried to kiss her again but she leaned away, snorting with laughter and then covered her own mouth in terror at the noise that had erupted from her throat but Harry thought it way be the cutest little snort he had ever heard. He was completely smitten.

“Gin, kissing is serious business, stop laughing,” he told her, eyes sparkling with amusement. His hand dropped from her face and landed on her side instead.

She bit the inside of her cheeks, attempting to keep a straight face but she was hardly managing. She shifted her weight. “Call me Gin again.”

“You like that don’t you?” he asked, he was aware he was the only one who called her that, maybe that’s why she liked it so much. He leaned down to her ear. “Gin,” he said huskily. “My Gin.”

He leaned back a little to see her reaction but she seemed to have stopped functioning entirely. He pressed a kiss against her cheek softly, his lips lingering there for a moment.

Her eyes searched his. “This is real, isn’t it?”

“I hope so. If this is a dream and I wake up to your snoring brother, that may be the biggest disappointment of my life,” he told her honestly.

“Of your life?” she repeated questioningly.

He nodded resolutely. “Definitely.”

“I suppose we should try and break out of this pantry sometime,” Ginny said.

Harry wanted to argue against that, with all the food around at least they wouldn’t go hungry anytime soon. He nodded. He pressed another short kiss against her lips before his arms slipped off her.

She stepped back and turned towards the door. Harry grabbed his wand off the shelf.

Ginny tried the door handle and the door simply opened. They both blinked at the bright daylight entering the pantry once again.

“Wait, how long has this been unlocked?” Ginny wondered as she stepped out into the kitchen.

“For twenty minutes,” Fred replied from the living room.

She walked into the living room, Harry behind her. “We weren’t even in there for that long!”

Fred glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes. We got bored after the first ten considering we couldn’t hear anything. A grave oversight from our side, I’ll have to admit. George is working on mistletoe now, should work better.” He looked up at his sister. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Shut up,” Ginny retorted and she hurried up the stairs and into her bedroom.

Harry stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room, but he was glad Fred was not asking him anything.

“Have you seen Ron?” he asked Fred sheepishly. He would rather not remain there.

“Locked him in his room, had to make sure he did not interfere.”

Harry walked briskly to the stairs.

“So how did snogging my sister go?” Fred tried.

Harry whipped back around. “We didn’t- Ginny wasn’t- I don’t think…”

“No need to be embarrassed, Harry. I think you two make quite the pair.” Fred offered him a sweet smile that felt slightly unsettling.

Harry turned back around and rushed up the stairs to Ron’s room.

“Were you locked up too? I have no idea what Fred and George had planned now…” Ron said as Harry opened the room and stepped inside. Ron didn’t seem terribly annoyed as he was resting on his bed reading the Quidditch Quarrel magazine.

“Yes, I was. Ginny too,” he replied, careful not to mention they had been locked up together. He sat down on his bed. He sat in silence for a few minutes,

Ron was minding his own business and so Harry tried to gather his thoughts about what had just happened. There was a swooping feeling in his stomach as he remembered the way her lips had felt against hers.

There was a soft knock on the door and they both looked up when the door opened.

Ginny popped her head inside. “Harry, can I talk to you?” There was a hint of a smile on her face.

Ron looked a little confused why Ginny wanted to talk to Harry, but he remained silent, returning to his magazine.

Harry pushed off the bed. “Sure.”

He stepped to her and she held the door open for him. He walked past her and she closed the door. He turned back around to face her, waiting for Ginny to speak but instead she grabbed his hand. Another pleasant fluttery feeling erupted in his stomach as their hands touched and he beamed at her.

She let out a soft giggle when she saw his expression. She pulled him towards the stairs. Harry was quickly gathering she didn’t want to just ‘talk’.

“What are we doing?” Harry asked curiously, allowing her to guide him down the stairs.

“Walking,” she replied, glancing backwards at him for a moment.

“Walking?”

“Walking. ” She shot another look at him, her eyes teasing, the hint of a blush across her freckled cheeks.

When they reached the ground floor, Fred turned around to look at them and noticed their hands. “So it worked, then? Can’t wait to tell mum.”

“I would reconsider that, Fred. Whatever will mum do when she finds out you locked her poor baby daughter in a pantry. I was terrified, a sudden bout of claustrophobia took over me,” Ginny said dramatically.

“She is not going to buy that.” Fred scoffed.

Harry locked eyes with Fred. “I think you’ll find if I tell her, she will believe it. I would never lie to her, of course.”

Ginny looked up at him, eyes full of glee. He squeezed her hand and grinned once again, he couldn’t help himself.

They grabbed their coats, not waiting for Fred's reply and walked to the back door.

“Even if I don’t tell her, she’s going to figure it out pretty soon, you know!” Fred called after them.

“Well, that’s my business, not yours!” Ginny yelled back as they walked down the few steps into the garden.

“She’ll want a summer wedding!”

Ginny shot a look at Harry and rolled her eyes. She walked back up to the door. “Fred, I know your love life is in shambles right now, but that doesn’t mean you have to project your dreams on mine!”

She turned back around to Harry as Fred spluttered a retort.

Ginny walked back up to Harry, this time he held out his hand for her. She took it easily, as if that’s where her hand was supposed to be.

“I wonder who they’re going to test the Mistletoe on?” Ginny thought out loud.

“I have a pretty good idea.”

#hinny #hinnyfest #fic #harry potter #ginny weasley

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case-of-traxits · 6 months

Note

Sephiroth 1-26

[From this prompt!] [Still accepting!]

Omg, 1 through 26? That's a lot. Okay. Here we go. This got really long. I hope you enjoy!

Character Ask Game!!! 💫

Character Questions: Sephiroth

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

Right off the bat, my favorite thing about Sephiroth is definitely how surprisingly soft his character actually is. Like, I've been eating well with the release of Ever Crisis, since it confirms a lot of how I've always written Sephiroth. As for dislikes... Let's see. I dislike how inherently tragic his character actually is? Like, that sounds odd, coming from me, an angst queen, but I mean it more... He really never stood a chance. I usually love angst for my characters, but often because they've done it to themselves? Sephiroth is heartbreaking because of what's been done to him rather than because of anything he's specifically done. And no, I'm not discounting Nibelheim or anything. I don't want anyone to read this and walk away thinking I think that I... I don't know. Don't think Sephiroth was responsible for anything. Of course he is. He's a villainous character, and he goes completely mad and falls. That's the entire point. But his madness and his fall itself is inevitable within the canon of the game. His character is a relatively innocent one who lacks almost all agency, and when he finds out why, he completely loses himself in being the monster that they've created. Like, to be perfectly honest, is it a surprise that so many fangirls glommed onto him, hotness aside?

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

I love how his canon materia set up is as follows: Masamune Materia Slots: Revive Restore Earth = All Fire = [empty spot] Gold Armlet Materia Slots: Ice = All Lightning = All Like. I love that he has a restore and a revive? And an open slot? I don't know. It's just fun to think about.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

His fixation on Cloud. Like, don't get me wrong, I do completely understand it. I just don't like it. I can recognize that canon has made a decision that I personally disagree with.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Ooh, any other media... Honestly? This is going to sound weird, but I'd put him in FF8. I think he'd fit right in with the SeeDs, and almost none of them have parents either, so it would just be... normal.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you And all we've been through I said leave it, leave it, leave it It's nothing to you And if you hate me, hate me, hate me Then hate me so good that you can let me out, let me out Let me out of this hell when you're around -- Rootless Tree, by Damien Rice

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

We both suck at making friends. We both got like, two of them and were like, "well, here we go. Our entire sense of self-worth hinges on these two people. Hope nothing happens to them. (:" In all seriousness though, I am extremely bad at making friends. And Sephiroth clearly is too. So. SOLIDARITY BBY.

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I love when fandom puts him in just... normal situations. I love seeing Sephiroth cook or run in the morning or go to the gym or really anything besides being effortlessly perfect. I like seeing his humanity under there. Probably because he rejects it so thoroughly after Nibelheim.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Well. I don't click on these fics anymore because it's just easier to not engage than it is to deal with my feelings about it, but I hate when fandom just reduces Sephiroth to purely his post-Nibelheim state? Like, I'm aware that part of it is because that's the timeline most people are writing in. And in that case, go right ahead! Do your thing! But if you're writing pre-Nibelheim, you need to contend with who he was before that event.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

I suspect I am not a tidy enough individual to be roommates with Sephiroth. I think he would be extremely particular.

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

I mean, as much as he can be best friends with anyone? His biggest problem is letting people in, and not because he doesn't want to, but because he has no idea how.

11. Would you date this character?

Hah! Look. I have a wonderful husband already. XD

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

Sephiroth has a blue pick-up that he drives on the few times he leaves the Tower. He dislikes taking the train, and technically, the car belongs to the company, but no one would ever stop him. He has a string of those fake materia beads that are so popular in Midgar hanging from the rearview mirror, and he likes to periodically just leave Midgar and drive on the dirt roads that go nowhere. He finds it soothing, particularly with loud music blaring in the truck. -- Pulled from my headcanon blog. I mean, I could give you new ones, but I love this one.

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

I really cannot imagine Sephiroth using any emoji except the thumbs up and thumbs down ones, to be perfectly frank. Except, possibly, for texts with Genesis and Angeal, if they use emoji? If they do, I think he would slowly assimilate their styles of use, and do his best to mimic them.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Cottagecore. No, no! Don't go! Hear me out. Sephiroth in giant, oversized, cozy sweaters and his hair in a loose braid. It'd be great, and he'd be so happy.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

Tseng and Sephiroth. I just. Tseng is so good for him, all quiet acceptance of anything odd about him, and gentle instruction when Sephiroth looks uncertain and just... I love them dearly. I have a ficlet series! I should add more to it, but here, look. ENJOY. I Fell (heavy) into Your Arms (like a stone) For the record though, I am also 100% on board for Genesis/Sephiroth. Super excited for Sephesis Week in January. I'm going to get so much new fic to read.

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

Ooh, spicy question there. Uh. I don't want to start anything, but I am not a huge fan of Sephiroth/Cloud. I mean. It's fine. It's just not my thing.

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

Mm... As a general rule, I am flexible on ships. Even my least favorite ship for Sephiroth is someone's ship, and I wish them the best in their shipyard.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I love his relationship with Genesis. Huge, huge feels when I started Ever Crisis and he was calling Gen and just... T_T Babies.

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

That would require him to have actual relationships. That said, his only other real relationship is with Cloud, and as I said in the ship questions, that's... fine. It's just not my thing.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Honestly, I do really like Sephiroth with Genesis and/or Angeal, and I think Tseng would be a good friend for him, even disregarding my shipping tendency. That said, Reeve would be good for him too. Not the least of which because Reeve would probably be able to help him get some answers about his mother if Sephiroth would ask him. Or maybe that's just my Reeve, who has been with Shinra since he was five.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

Something I like: I like seeing him interact with people outside of missions. I like watching him be normal and having to deal with everything that comes with that. Something I don't: I hate fight scenes. Have me write 7k of introspection any day, but please, as few fight scenes as possible. XD

22. If you're a fic reader, what's something you like in fics when it comes to this character? Something you don't like?

Something I like: I love when other characters are super warm to Sephiroth and he's just like, "Do you like me? Do I want you to like me? Is that okay?" I just... it melts my heart every time. Something I don't: I find it difficult to believe people when they write Sephiroth as a sex god. Weirdly specific, right? But true. He's such an awkward teenager in Ever Crisis, and while he's very calm in Crisis Core, 90% of his "perfection" comes from just... not talking. I cannot imagine that he picks people up or hooks up very often. XD

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Currently? This one. Seph/Gen, kissing. But if you mean "ever," that's impossible. There's been so many fantastic pieces of fanart over the years.

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Mm. So little baby Trax, all those years ago (seriously, I watched FF7 being played when I was about 9, when the game was released), was basically like: Traxits: "Wait, why don't we like Sephiroth?" Cousin: "He murdered the President." Traxits: "The guy who dropped the sector? The one we were going to kill?" Cousin: "Yeah." Traxits: "And that's... bad?" Cousin: "Murder is bad." Traxits: "... but we were going to kill him first, right?" And then my cousin (age 13) made me go play in a different room.

Now, of course, I understand more about what was going on and everything, but the fact is, he's one of my favorites just because of how ... Mm. Doomed he is, maybe? I just. I love writing moments of happiness for him. He deserves them, despite everything. Because of everything. Because in the end, he's going to completely surrender himself to the alien cells in his body and he's going to lose himself. And there isn't, as far as we can tell, any way to save him.

26. Freebie question; Per discord discussion: Most obscure headcanon?

Oh, that's a fun one. Mine is probably that Sephiroth is a vegetarian. Actually, I'm not sure how widespread this is, but it used to be popular (I sound like a lady discussing what was "fashionable" in her time) to have Sephiroth be wildly sensitive to all kinds of foods, but from what I've seen in the current meta/jokes/etc., most people seem to headcanon that he has an iron stomach now. I go the opposite way and say thanks to the degree of experimental testing and the lack of exposure to a wide variety of foods, he's almost overly sensitive to new foods. To the point that he pretty much subsists exclusively on things from the SOLDIER cafeteria (who have a list of things that they can prepare for him) or things that he himself has prepared.

THANK YOU FOR READING ALL OF THAT.

#Character asks #Sephiroth #Headcanons #FF7 #Final Fantasy VII #asks

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