#Dude !! he is an idiot gay leave him alone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imzsuzsis-blog · 23 days

Text

"I'm fucking gay" I said to myself sometimes louder, sometimes quietly, unfortunately I think several people heard the loud part because they were looking at me, especially Danny was running after me. "Lando, are you grumpy for saying that? Because everyone hears it.” "I am, and when we broke up I was even grumpier, leave me alone, if you want me to, I'm still pregnant with twins from Ollie." Ollie Bearman? What the hell have you been doing?” Danny stopped me from speaking, then tears appeared on my face and I ran away crying. ,,Lokiii where are you????? I want to go back to the fucking fucking hotel!!!!! I can not stand!!!!" I started hitting his chest shaking and throwing up again. "Relax Lando, there are only free training sessions with a break between them." ,, BELIEVE I'M NOT EXCITED I WANT TO GO BACK THERE I HATE IT HERE FUCK ME!!!!" "Deep air says I can do it in myself." "I can do it, I believe in myself, even if I carry two beans Jankó." "MR Norris, we need to talk about beans after training." "No, and I will not have an abortion, this is the final decision, sir." "If he plays for the suspension, then the game has begun." "I'm afraid, Loki, they're not only idiots, they're also strict and they give diets that are impossible or borderline impossible to follow, on top of that they constantly measure our weight and check how much we exercise every day, it's no longer sick, it's fucking pathological."

I leaned against the wall with tears in my eyes and could only scream at the top of my lungs. Leave it!!!! I won't get into that fucking car if they force me to do so at gunpoint." "Well, come in." "Will, Jon, no, these fuckers up there don't even know what I want or what I feel, so no, I'm going to have someone else take my place today and this year." "Leave him for real." "Dude, what will happen to me? We had such a good time together, but what about the photography?" "I'll take photos of the little ones or I don't know if we move to the new place, but the fact that I won't stay in Monaco is fixed." "Do you want to move?" "Yes, everyone has been obsessed with me for a long time, when they see a girl next to me, the tabloids say she's my new girl, when I fuck the boys I loved it, I hate being there." "We understand. Where?" Burying my face in my hands, I started to cry even more and shook my head. "I don't have the faintest idea where America might come into question, I don't know, New York especially Upper, Miami, Los Angeles, but back to England and Bristol and its surroundings or London, I don't have an idea yet, but it's far from there and from the people there."

The news made my fucking blood run cold, I went to see Lando through the journalists because he just said all this in public. ,,A thousand apologies... Fuck you Lando, you said everything openly, even what you shouldn't have!!!! Now you're going to be all over the headlines because of your breakout!!!! "Osc, who excites the bitch, fuck them, they need to know what a fucking little world Formula 1 is and what a fucking little puppet we are for them that they can play with as they please and like, they can suck my dick." We didn't even pay attention, but all the cameras took us and everyone took pictures of us, and even Lando gave them the fucking horse. ,,This is serious? You know you can't say." "Yes, fuck me, just like I'm tired of shit, I'm not acting anymore here, if that's what I want, I'll go to a fucking casting and I don't care how many weeks I am, I'll do it if I get in, okay, but no, as a child, if you didn't know, I was a child actor . Stupid child and I would choose this place over the shitty place right now. Get it.” I ran after him and slapped him. "You know, I was also a child actor, but now it's not about that, it's about what you said shouldn't have happened."

"Child actor, Child actor" I muttered to myself and looked for a cigarette in my back pocket, and for my lip ink, "mhhh Benefit is expensive but... How seriously did you take Oscar from me and throw it away?" Your good fucking mother!!!!!!” I took it out and imitated a fake kick in the ass, and he showed me how the hell you put on makeup if you can't see it. "Because if only you knew that I've been doing this since I was fourteen." ,,Landooooo fuck fourteen???? Are you screwed???? Good tests, huh?” I showed him it was full of liquid flavoring, it was undrinkable and the color was strange, it didn't smell like anything, but it did have a sparkle. "Liquid highliter and put it down, it flows very well." ,,This? It has bristles, but it's also cool." ,,That mascara and eyebrow gel, put my fucking make-up stuff down Osc this is fucking not funny!!!!! That's my contour stick, my foundation, concealer, bronzer, that's my fucking blush, that's my eyeshadow palette, and put it all down. Damn" "Good, okay..." I left Lando, who was just putting some cream on himself. "MR Piastri, where is his teammate?" "I don't know, I think he's already gone with him boyfriend, he has a date today, he said he went there, sir, I can't give him an interview, I'm sorry." I ran back panting with messy hair. ,,What's wrong?" "Fuck the fucking gossip press and they're asking about you." We looked outside and a good number of people gathered, none of us dared to go outside when ten minutes later we heard a knock. "I'm Loki, may I come in?" ,.Of course it is." "This is a fucking crowd, what the hell happened?" "I don't know either, except that some asshole asked me where Lando was, and I lied and saved the best and said that he was on a date with his friend, so I thought he wasn't here anymore." "Oscar, you bastard, we're going down because of you, everyone will know that me and Lando are a couple!!!" "Good, but I didn't tell you he was pregnant." "You wordy bastard Australian, can't you be like that?" "Get me, I'm confessing to them, you scumbags" I ran out angrily, slammed the door behind me and instead did everything against myself, kept my mouth shut, "I'm telling you he's on a date with his partner, leave him alone and on top of that, Lando Norris is gay, so he's not with a girl if they ask you idiots !!!!!” I looked in my phone and all the gossip sites were full of me, "Formula 1 driver Lando Norris is gay." I ran after Oscar, but I didn't really see spit anywhere, "Kill Oscar Piastri, you're bisexual or stupid!!!!" I felt Loki's palm on my back, bit my lip and killed him, "Fucking big scandal and it started as I predicted." "Yes, but I think we should go because I have a reservation at the restaurant at nine in the evening."

#lando norris #fanfic #gayboy #f1 #f1 fanfic #loki #osc #lgbtq #transgender #intersex #landoscar #SoundCloud

11 notes · View notes

musashi · 10 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE EXPLAIN CASE 3 OF TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS CAUSE I JUST. CANT GET THROUGH IT 😭😭 and i KNOW if i hear you talk about it ill make my way past but its. its literally the ONLY 3rd case ive gotten stuck on? with the other 2 games i was INVESTED in them but. for whatever reason the only highlight was that Dang Cafe and now its just. Going. and Going. i know that old pigeon feeding man is supposed to be Quirky but. i find him So. Boring.

oh god i dont know if i can do that one and make it interesting. recipe is so bad i hate every second of it

4 months prior to the events of the case local idiot loan shark furio tigre drove his moped into some goth chick's car. unfortunately the goth chick was also the daughter of a mob boss and she was majorly injured. mob boss was like youre gonna pay........ 1 MILLION dollars for her surgery. tigre was like bro

tigre started more or less using viola, pretended to be in love with her and take care of her when in reality he was just trying to get her dad to leave him alone.

hes still a loan shark so he did loan shark shit. he gave some homophobic gay french bitch money for his restaurant. there was also this programmer he hit up who made superviruses or some shit, one of which was super potent at data erasing and went for a pretty penny on the black market. homeboy also had a real bad gambling addiction

he went to the shitty french restaurant to meet with tigre about paying off his debt but LITERALLY SECONDS BEFORE TIGRE WAS ABOUT TO GET HIS HANDS ON THE VIRUS AS PAYMENT FOR THE DEBT. THIS BITCH WON THE LOTTERY. he literally won like five times the money he needed. so he had more than enough to pay off tigre. and tigre was like. god fucking damnit i need that virus or the mob is gonna assassinate me

so he just poisoned the bitch right there. the cutest waitress in the building (Maggey) saw shit go down and passed out. what can ya do

but then the french bitch was like alright whats all this then and tigre was like hiii <3 you owe me 500k sooooo you're gonna cover up this murder for me k boo? so they fucking just... moved the body into the kitchen along with maggey's unconscious ass... and then tigre DRESSED HIS ASS UP IN PROGAMMER DUDE'S CLOTHES... GOT HIS GOTH GF TO DRESS UP AS ONE OF THE WAITRESSES... AND RE-ENACTED THE WHOLE SCENE EXCEPT WITH GOTH BITCH SPIKING THE DRINK. LITERALLY JUST TO ESTABLISH A WITNESS AND FRAME MAGGEY. A DUDE WHO HAD WANDERED IN FOR COFFEE AND TITS.

'wouldnt he have realized that it wasn't maggey when he saw her in court' no because he was a horny old man who only looks at women's bodies. that's literally the plot point.

but yknow tigre had to really REALLY cover his tracks to make sure maggey took the fall for the murder he did so........... HOMEBOY DRESSED UP AS PHOENICHOLAS L. WRIGHT ATTORNEY AT LAW AND FAKED HIS IDENTITY AND 'DEFENDED' MAGGEY IN COURT AND BY THAT I MEAN HE DID AN ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT JOB ON PURPOSE TO GET HER A DEATH SENTENCE

gumshoe kicks the door down like 'ill fucking KILL you' and phoenix is like?????? HUH??? WHAT DID I DO???

some other stuff that happens:

maya channels mia just to use her tits

CUTE WAITRESS MAYA MAYA IN THE WAITRESS OUTFIT LITTLE MAYA SO SO CUTE

does anyone even care at all about a maya fey so small

in the anime maya directly references the 'bone apple teeth' meme. she literally says the words bone apple teeth out loud.

maya maya maya

there's a scene where godot submits a white apron as evidence and its got a giant ketchup stain on it and the whole court is like uhhhh dude is that blood? and hes like. what. is what blood. and theyre like. dude can you not see it? and hes like NOT SEE WHAT? ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME?

this scene, which is like 5 seconds, contains a MAJOR PLOT REVELATION THAT IS SUPER IMPORTANT LATER, and it is the only reason that this case is unskippable. if you took that little tiny bit out, this case would be worthless filler with nothing to offer.

except maya in the waitress outfit.

long live the lesbians.

#wendy answers #mitsusoup #here! bone apple teeth to you mon sewer!#wendy rambles #wendy explains

19 notes · View notes

nightttdreamers · 2 years

Text

Coolest Place in the World / Craig x Kenny

yay crenny one-shot! writing craig was a lot of fun, as in i gave him Problems and made him suffer a little but all for a happy sappy fluffy romantic ending!

TW for recreational drug use and suggestive content (off-screen smut)

if you like this pls feel free to leave a like as it will make my day and i will start smiling at my computer like an idiot! formattings a bit better on ao3 if you prefer to read there

AO3 Link | 4k words | One-Shot

Craig Tucker hates beer. He hates parties. He hates college. He hates the fact that he never feels like himself and he can't connect with people.

He finds Kenny McCormick who changes at least one of those things.

The party sucks.

It’s fine, because Craig didn’t expect it to be fun. As far as he’s concerned, every party sucks. College parties consist of a bunch of strangers pretending to have things in common to hide how deeply lonely and miserable their lives are. At least in South Park they didn’t have to pretend. There, he could always step away from the music and the crowd and everyone would know that it’s just Craig needing some Craig time. In college, he can’t sulk in the corner or rely on his obnoxious friends to pull him out to the dance floor. If he goes to a party, he has to take several smoke breaks just so he can be alone without looking like a loser.

He feels around in his pocket. He’s out of cigarettes.

“Craig!” Shouts a familiar voice. Clyde emerges from the crowd, triumphantly holding up two beer bottles like trophies. He’s grinning, like grabbing them drinks at a party his fraternity is throwing is some big accomplishment.

Craig is happy he made it out of South Park. Granted, he only made it as far as Denver, but he was glad he could get into any college that wasn’t local with his grades. And even though his goal was to get as far as he could from that shithole town, having Clyde around still is nice. Though the two actually attend different schools in the city, Clyde still drags Craig to social outings like he did in their hometown.

“What took you so long?” Craig asks, accepting the bottle that Clyde holds out to him. He’s the furthest thing from a lightweight, unlike Clyde, so the beer is basically useless to him.

“Got held up with the brothers,” the brunette explains. Craig wishes they were with their old gang just so he could make fun of how lame Clyde sounds when he calls the other members of his fraternity his “brothers.” But, the brothers were kind enough to let Clyde bring Craig tonight (even though Clyde had thoroughly explained that Craig was gay and would not be stealing any girls from them), and he didn’t feel like getting kicked out for dissing the hosts. “You having fun, man?” Clyde asks.

“Sure,” he muses, sipping his lukewarm beer. “This tastes like ass.”

“What?” Clyde shouts over the music, leaning in closer.

Fuck, he hates yelling at parties. “This tastes like ass!” He repeats, louder this time. Though it's unlikely, he follows up with “Wanna go smoke?”

Clyde pulls away, scratching the back of his neck. “I dunno, I don’t think that’s my thing tonight.”

Sometimes, at parties, Craig turns into an asshole. Like, an actual asshole. It’s something about the combination of too many strangers, crappy music, and whatever substance he’s ingesting that makes him so irritable. Right now, he hates Clyde a little bit for having such a dodgy answer. He hates himself a little bit too for asking a question he already knew the answer to. He really hates that he’s only been there for thirty minutes and already needs a break, but Clyde’s completely fine.

But, Craig doesn’t let this show, he just shrugs and nods like he doesn’t care and he’s a normal person capable of enjoying shitty beer at a shitty party.

“I think there’s a dude in the yard selling, though,” Clyde offers with a helpful smile. “Overheard some guys in the kitchen talking about it.”

“I’ll check it out,” Craig responds, giving Clyde a small nod before he heads towards the backyard. He’s grateful for the fresh air once he heads outside, but not the realization that comes with it: Clyde probably thinks his offer was about getting high and not just getting his nicotine fix, which is why he was sent outside to find the party’s dealer.

He feels like an idiot. The last time he tried to get high with Clyde, the brunette cried for an hour.

Still, smoking would give him something to do with his hands right now, so he follows the scent of weed in the air to the presumed dealer. However, he stops dead in his tracks once he realizes who he’s really approaching.

There’s two girls, but he hardly notices them beside the blonde boy that they’re talking to. His nose is bent at a bad angle, like it’s been broken a few too many times. His shaggy blonde hair looks like it’s been cut with kitchen scissors, falling just above his shoulders. Most notably though, he has a cigarette poking out between rows of crooked teeth, lips curled into a cocky smile. The boy raises his brows like one of the girls told him something of interest, and then he turns and locks eyes with Craig.

Craig is a few feet away, probably looking like an absolute idiot with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. After some eye contact that’s far too direct for his liking, he mutters, “Hey.”

Kenny McCormick removes the cigarette from his mouth and stares at Craig with wide eyes, resembling his nine-year old self so much that Craig knows he can’t be wrong about this. “Craig Tucker.”

Craig glances around for some reason, like Kenny could possibly be mistaking him for someone else. “Yeah.”

Kenny nudges the girls next to him without looking away from him. “Have a good night, ladies,” he says, handing them a joint that’s been tucked behind his ear. The girls take it and head off, giving Craig strange looks.

His mouth feels dry. He hasn’t seen Kenny since middle school, no one has. The last thing he expected was to find him, let alone in Denver in the backyard of Clyde’s frat party. He also wasn’t expecting Kenny to have gotten so hot, but he doesn’t linger on that for long because Kenny’s still staring at him and saying nothing. “So you sell weed in the backyard of frat parties now?”

This question seems to bring the blonde back to reality, reminding him of where he is. He takes his eyes off Craig and looks down at the money in his hands, sliding his backpack off to tuck it away. “Yeah, amongst other things. These Denver kids pay anything. I just charged those girls thirty bucks for a J. Are you-” Kenny’s eyes darted between the contents of his backpack and Craig. “Are you looking to buy? I got everything.”

“I’m not really looking to pay thirty bucks for a joint,” Craig replied flatly.

Kenny cracks another smile, pulling a joint out from his backpack and holding it out. “Friends and family discount. This one’s on the house.” Just as Craig reaches to take it, Kenny pulls it back. “But you gotta share.”

Craig knits his brows together. “What?”

“Consider it an act of South Park solidarity,” Kenny says. Craig wants to question him, but he holds his tongue. Honestly, all he wants to do right now is talk to Kenny.

There’s something wrong with Craig. He doesn’t really know what, but he knows that it keeps him tied to his hometown in the worst ways. Clyde seems unaffected; He can go to college and play sports and join fraternities and flirt with girls, living off beer and dining hall food. Meanwhile, Craig feels like he’s watching his life from the passenger seat, and whoever’s supposed to be steering him is making all the wrong choices.

But right now, with Kenny, he feels like he’s behind the wheel again. Despite how much he hates South Park, he could always be himself there in a way he can’t be in Denver.

Kenny’s looking at him again in that way, and Craig realizes he hasn’t been talking. “Yeah. Better than hanging out in there,” he says, glancing back at the frat house.

“So, you’re in the frat?” Kenny asks, and Craig is grateful for how skeptical the question is.

“Hell no. I don’t even go to this school. I tagged along with someone.” He doesn’t say he’s here with Clyde. He doesn’t really know why. It feels a bit selfish, but Clyde doesn’t need this like Craig does.

“And they let you in?” Kenny asks, sparking the joint. He takes a few puffs before passing it over.

“Barely,” Craig pauses, taking a hit. “Is there tobacco in this?”

Kenny grins, seeming incredibly proud of himself. “I remember you were one of the only non-goth kids that actually liked smoking. I figured you would be a spliff enjoyer.”

Craig just stares at him for a second before replying, because Kenny McCormick might be his savior right now. Something pulls at his chest, but he’ll blame it on the smoke. “Nice,” he says, which he hopes tells Kenny thank you, you’re an angel and not just because you’ve given me my nicotine fix.

“Frats never let me in at first,” Kenny says, running a hand through his hair, revealing a few hidden ear piercings. Hot. “And then I open the backpack and I’m like, hey, this party is going to be super fucking lame without me. And they go, oh you’re the weed guy.”

Craig hands back the spliff, nodding. “And that’s who you are? The weed guy?”

Kenny scoffs. “Motherfucker, I’m the everything guy. I’ve got weed, I’ve got coke, molly, poppers, shrooms, acid. I have narcan, I have condoms and lube, I’ve got fucking advil. I am literally the life and death of the party.”

Craigs brows raise, and not just because Kenny looked right at him when he mentioned poppers. “Damn,” he says, because he’s not sure how else to respond. There’s a lot going through his mind. When was the last time he actually saw Kenny? Maybe it's because they’ve been passing the spliff back and forth, but Craig feels like he still hasn’t fully taken this all in yet. He’s not sure if he’ll see most of the kids from his old class again. But the last person he ever expected to run into would be Kenny.

“You’re staring,” the blonde says, prompting Craig to open his mouth to come up with some excuse. “It’s cool, I’m kind of staring too.” Craig looks into Kenny's eyes, which are darting all over his face like he’s looking for something. “It’s crazy.”

“When was the last time I saw you? Middle school?” Craig asks, trying to justify his fixed gaze.

“Probably,” Kenny replies with a shrug. He turns away then, taking a deep drag before passing it over.

“You dropped off the face of the earth,” Craig says. He lets the joint sit between his fingers for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for Kenny to ditch school for periods of time, which is why it’s not clear exactly when he dropped out of school entirely. Craig just remembers about a month or so going by before people started realizing that he wasn’t coming back. “Everyone thought you died.”

“I did,” Kenny says without an ounce of sarcasm in his voice.

Craig blames the strange reply on the fact that they’re both a little high. “Shut up,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“No joke. I died, and death was like ‘Okay let’s go asshole’ but then I woke up not dead the next morning, and figured that I probably had some shit to get done, so I left.” Kenny looks at Craig like he’s told the story dozens of times.

Craig takes a hit, because he doesn’t know what to say and he doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. That feeling he gets when he talks to strangers comes back up, he’s back in the passenger’s seat. He knows he’s about to say something incredibly stupid. “It’s like The Seventh Seal.”

Kenny quirks a brow. “What?”

Craig does not mean to keep talking, but the obnoxious film student side of him seems to be taking over. “It’s, uh, this old Swedish movie about this guy who returns from war and he meets Death and Death tries to take him but he thinks he has more to do so he challenges Death to a game of chess.” And then, he hears himself saying something possibly even stupider than an insanely outdated film reference. “I can show it to you.”

Everything is slowed down, leaving the conversation-killing comments Craig just made to hang in the air between them. He remembers now why he doesn’t get high at parties, because then he has to talk to people. Kenny’s expression is completely unreadable, and Craig is just about ready for his only lifeline at the party to ditch him.

“Like right now?” Kenny asks.

Craig almost coughs, but plays it off as him clearing his throat. “What? I mean, I meant like-”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Kenny cuts him off, dropping the nearly finished spliff on the ground and stomping it out. He looks back up at Craig, then smiles. “Didn’t seem like either of us were really having fun anyway.”

“Yeah,” he replies unsurely, followed by a firmer “Okay.” Clyde’s not gonna be happy. Kenny begins walking out of the yard, and when he’s not looking, Craig shoots his friend a text; heading out. feeling weird. hangover breakfast tomorrow?

He feels a little bad, but then he looks up at the back of Kenny’s head, that choppy blonde hair, and the sounds from the party begin to fade out into the night as they slip through the side of the house, and he doesn’t care about anything else.

The walk back is long. Craig’s campus is on the other side of town, about a forty minute walk. Kenny doesn’t offer up his place, and Craig doesn’t question him. All the deliberation about their destination is Kenny asking if he lives in a dorm (yes), and then if he has a roommate (no). They talk about what they’ve been up to for the last five years. For Craig, it’s pretty mundane. Trying not to flunk out, lamenting his little sister’s journey into young adulthood, dealing with his obnoxious friends.

Luckily, Kenny does most of the talking. He was pretty quiet when they were younger, Craig remembers, only chiming in with a dirty joke or insult towards one of his friends. But now, he’s expressive as he explains what he did after running away from home with a stolen car. Whatever calling he felt all those years ago told him that he needed to make some kind of money. He seems a little sensitive about how he ended up dealing, leaving out some details that Craig doesn’t ask for. However, Kenny boasts that he’s able to send it back to Karen to keep the lights on back home. Though he might’ve gone missing for the rest of the town, he’s kept in touch with her.

It’s the most Craig has enjoyed someone else’s company in a good while. When Kenny speaks, Craig finds himself brushing against his arm. It’s cold, and the little bit of warmth he gets from those small moments of contact radiate through his entire body. There’s something magnetic about Kenny. When they make it to his dorm, it’s like no time at all has passed.

Craig opens the door to let Kenny in and feels more nervous than he has in a while. It just hits him in that moment that Kenny’s actually in his dorm, they didn’t even do this when they were kids. Then, the other realization that he has a guy in his single room to watch a fucking movie hits, and Craig wipes his palms on the side of his jeans.

“Congrats, Craig, this is the most generic dorm room I’ve ever seen,” Kenny says. He’s walking around the small space, arms folded over his chest.

“What?” Craig asks, closing the door behind them.

“No posters, plain blue comforter, you’ve got like one family photo and some dirty clothes on the floor as the only indicators that someone actually lives here.”

Craig tries to think of an excuse that’s not I don’t feel like I could ever make this space my own, and then realizes that, what the fuck it’s just Kenny McCormick ripping on him, same way they all used to rip on each other. “So you see the inside of a lot of dorm rooms, then?”

Kenny smirks, his face now fully visible in the room’s fluorescent light. Craig stares again. “Are you slut shaming me right now, Tucker?” He asks, though he doesn’t seem offended in the least. Craig forgets to breathe for a second. Is he flirting with me?

“Don’t we have a movie to watch?” Craig says. He wants to change the subject from the dangerous territory they almost just approached. “You can sit,” he says, gesturing to his bed before he grabs his laptop off his desk.

Kenny drops his backpack onto the ground, kicks off his shoes, then sits down on Craig’s navy comforter, leaning back against the wall.

Craig sits beside him, keeping a respectable difference, and starts looking through his downloads folder to find the movie. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes on the screen, even though he knows that Kenny’s looking at him right now.

“You want me to turn the lights off?” The blonde asks, pushing down on the top of Craig’s computer a little bit. Craig only responds with a small nod. He watches Kenny get up, looks at the way his torn-up jeans fit him, the flash of those ear piercings. He watches Kenny and makes a decision.

“You know, I do have one cool thing in my room,” Craig says as Kenny sits back down on the bed.

“Yeah? A shitty porno stash?” Kenny teases again, and Craig can just see his cocky smirk in the dim light of his computer.

“No, asshole,” Craig replies. He turns to his night-stand and turns on a small, black projector. The room lights up in different shades of purples and blues that dance across his ceiling in waves, accented by tiny stars of different shapes and sizes, all swirling around the two of them. Kenny just looks up, his smirk fading fast. “Um, I used to have these glow in the dark stars in my room at home, but I thought that if someone came to my dorm and saw them, they’d think I’m really fucking lame. Which, I might be a little bit. But, I don’t know, it’s cool to look at when I’m high and it, uh, kind of reminds me of being home.”

Kenny looks back to him, his face glowing in all different colors in the light of the projector. “You’ve changed.”

Craig raises his brows, not quite expecting that response. “Since I was thirteen? No shit.”

“Nevermind, still the same sarcastic asshole,” Kenny says, chuckling. “Maybe you haven’t changed, then. Maybe I just never got to see you this…” He trails off.

“This what?”

“This closely.”

It occurs to Craig how close the two have gotten now. There’s no more respectable distance. He looks down to see that their knees are touching now and when he looks back up, Kenny’s leaning in to kiss him.

It’s short-lived. When they stop, Kenny stays close, his lips just hovering over Craig’s. He’s asking if I want to keep going. Craig reaches up and runs a hand through Kenny’s hair, pulling him back in. The two shift, with Craig leaning back and Kenny coming to straddle him. There’s an unpleasant sounding thud from below them, and Craig realizes they’ve knocked the computer off the bed.

“Shit,” Kenny mutters.

Craig just chuckles. “Forget about the fucking movie.”

He wakes up the next morning to the sight of Kenny’s bare ass across the room.

It takes him a few seconds to remember how he ended up in this situation. Right. Clyde’s party. Found Kenny in the backyard. Came back to the dorm. Had insanely good sex. No wonder he feels so sore.

Craig basks in the view for a second, not just of Kenny’s ass as he pulls his boxers on, but of Kenny in general. He knew he felt something with Kenny last night, and attributing that to their shared history just didn’t feel right. From the moment they kissed, Craig realized that their connection actually ran much deeper than he thought.

He admires Kenny in the morning light the way he couldn’t last night, spotting freckles he didn’t see, little scars and birthmarks. However, the realization that Kenny’s getting dressed pulls him out of his just-woken-up haze.

“Got somewhere to be?” Craig asks, voice groggy with sleep.

Kenny jumps, looking back to him. “Shit, I was trying not to wake you up.”

He sits up now, pulling the comforter up to cover his lower body. “You were just gonna leave without saying anything?” Craig asks, hating how childish he sounds.

“You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you,” Kenny replies, though Craig can tell he’s not being sincere.

The warm fuzzy feeling in his chest quickly vanishes, leaving a cold hollowness. He’s done one-night stands before, why does he care if Kenny wants to slip away without a word? Without any hint that he wants to see Craig again?

And why does the thought of Kenny leaving hurt so bad?

“What the fuck, Kenny?” He says, trying to keep his voice even.

Kenny looks around, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Craig. Last night was great? I had fun?

Craig swallows. Maybe it was all just one-sided. Maybe that was just sex for him. “Sorry,” he says, looking anywhere but Kenny. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m not trying to make you stay if you don’t want to. Last night was kind of more than just fun for me.” He leans forward, putting his head in his hands.

Kenny sits on the bed across from him. “What do you mean?”

Craig sighs, keeping his gaze fixed down on his bed. “I don’t know. I thought you would stick around.”

“Do you… want me to stay?” Kenny asks. Craig looks up at him, and Kenny’s expression is plain as day. He’s scared.

Craig’s brows knit together, and he knows he needs to be plain with how he feels right now. “Of course I want you to stay.”

Kenny looks off,, and it’s like Craig can see him sorting things out in his head. After a little while, a smile comes across his face, and Craig lets out a breath. “Shit, this doesn’t usually happen.”

His candid response prompts a laugh from Craig, which Kenny quickly returns.

“Move over, Tucker,” the blonde says, giving the other a push. Craig slides over in his twin bed, leaving just enough room for Kenny to slide under the comforter beside him. “I wasn’t trying to fuck and duck, I just didn’t think you’d want me to see me in the morning.”

Craig props himself up on his elbow, watching Kenny who still seems too nervous to recline. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you?”

Kenny opens his mouth like there are a million reasons on his tongue. Instead, after a moment, he just lays back down, looking up at Craig with a smile. “No clue. I’m a catch.”

Craig laughs again, rolling his eyes.

“So, what now? You wanna cuddle and all that gay shit?” Kenny asks, gently tracing a finger over Craig’s forearm.

Craig’s not quite sure what he wants to do. He wants to get closer, wrap his arms around Kenny and drift back to sleep. He wants to kiss every freckle along his shoulders and work his way down. He wants to ask Kenny about every scar he can see in the cold morning light. He just wants to bask in this moment for a while.

“How about that movie?”

55 notes · View notes

winderlylandchime · 6 months

Note

Hello, how are you? Hope you’re doing well and that your weekend is/was great. I am here to let you all know that qaf has officially ruined our entire family. While I have been keeping my cousins, my aunt and occasionally my uncle and parents updated on how my brother is watching the show and it’s been keeping us entertained (some of us more than the others). It has finally come to the point where my mom sent me a looooong text message, asking me to take him out since he can leave the house now so that he can (and i quote) ‘get away from the tv gays ruining his life because he needs to be around real people since the world doesn’t revolve around this show’ Basically she asked me to force him to touch some grass. So I did. I asked my neighbor to come with us and we went out to a bar that was having like a throwback night or something (we went bc the songs were old and good) and we hung out and he actually behaved like a functional adult. He even left his Team Brian shirt at home and was talking about random shit and not once did he mention qaf. He was only upset on the car ride there like a little kid but he quickly recovered. And then of course it had to happen, because why wouldn’t it? We were sitting at our table (and i wanna say they have a dj but it was more just a dude with a computer and a playlist and he was killing it) and we were talking and laughing and then as my brother is talking, he just kinda starts almost like glitching, like half talking but he’s clearly distracted and he’s looking off into the distance and my neighbor asks him if he’s okay and he lifts his finger up to shush us and then he goes ‘it’s the song..listen..’ and we’re listening to it and neither of us recognize it so i ask him what song is it? And he goes ‘its the song from prom’ and my neighbor is trying to mess with him so she looks at him and goes ‘Wow cant believe you remember your prom’ and this dude looks at her all annoyed and goes ‘no, not my prom, it’s the song from Justin’s prom’ HE SAID THAT AS IF ITS HIS KID HES TALKING ABOUT. Like Justin is a person that is present in all of our lives and she’s an idiot for not knowing this simple fact. And now I’m confused because i don’t recognize the song! So I’m like ‘no, youre wrong, that song is save the last dance’. And this fucker goes ‘nooooo, this us the song that played when Brian walks in. Before they dance.’ Guys, it was Faded by SoulDecision. I checked when we got home, the song played for just enough seconds for shazam to pick it up. Probably less than 20 seconds. I mean he did watch the episode few days ago and he has the song on his playlist BUT the bar was LOUD AS FUCK with people. We weren’t sitting anywhere near the speaker so it even took me a second to hear the beat/melody of the song and this moron heard it from a distance and recognized it because Brian fucking Kinney walked into a scene while the song was playing. I feel like i am being beaten at my own game.

I am surprised that afterwards he didn’t do anything dumb or embarrassing ngl. But that alone made me realize that he is a lost cause forever now. I’m kinda proud ngl. But yeah, this weekend he was literally forced to touch grass, so to speak and even then qaf found a way into his life.

Your mom said he needs to touch grass. Oh my god. (The world doesn’t revolve around this show? News to me!)

And then they played the random song from prom at the bar. The universe is sending your brother a message! I’m dyinggggg. I remember one of the first fics I ever read in qaf, which was written before shazam, where the author could not figure out what that damn song was. And your brother is recognizing it in a busy bar.

He may not know it yet, but he’s a tumblrina!

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

2 notes · View notes

innytoes · 2 years

Note

Chaos! 20, Reggie x Flynn

Reggie wasn't sure what the big deal was, really. He'd worn a suit! To a red carpet! So what if it was the same suit he'd worn to the last three red carpets, the pretty red one with the butterflies. It was a good suit. His favourite, in fact.

Okay, so it was also his only suit. But nobody ragged on all the other male celebrities for wearing boring black tuxes at every event.

So why was he the one who became a meme? And why did the some of them have to be so mean about it? Luke had dragged him away from his computer before he could start a twitter fight with some youtuber who said butterflies were overrated. And that thinkpiece about Reggie re-wearing his suit because he'd grown up poor had hurt, okay? They'd even gone after his ripped skinny jeans. Those were cool! He could afford normal jeans if he wanted to!

The label hadn't been too amused by his 'guess I'll wear the red butterfly suit' meme. Even though the ones on tumblr were pretty funny. He especially liked the one of him photoshopped into disasters like the Titanic and Godzilla attacking LA.

"Just go meet with a stylist, dude," Luke said. Luke was one to talk. Stylists loved him and his stupid biceps and his stupid sleeveless shirts. Nobody ever called Luke poor for his ratty-ass shirts that didn't even have sleeves. Maybe if his knees were really swole, people would leave him alone about the skinny jeans.

"I don't want to," he whined, flopping over and putting his head in Alex' lap. Alex looked a little disgruntled, before sighing a little resigned 'okay' at him and petting his hair. Victory. "Stylists are mean. The last one tried to get me to give up my flannel. My flannel, guys!"

Alex looked down at him, putting on his Stern Face. "If you want the tiktok youths to stop bullying you, you gotta wear a different suit to the next event," he said. "It's a big one."

"But I like my red suit!" he whined some more. Alex always looked hot at red carpets, but he had ten-plus years of gay spite fueling his fashion decisions. "How am I ever gonna find something as cool as that? I don't want to show up in some boring-ass black and white tux because people can't understand sustainable fashion." That was what one of the nicer blogs had said. He was eco-friendly, okay, not poor or uninspired.

"What if you talk to a friend of mine?" Julie offered. "My friend Flynn is super fashionable, but she's not a professional stylist, she's a DJ. We always try to go shopping together for events."

Reggie thought about it. Nobody ever had something bad to say about Julie's outfits. She was always 'cool' and 'fresh' and a 'slay it queen'. "Fine," he pouted. "I'll meet your cool friend. But if she tries to take away my flannel, I'm running, I don't care if it's rude."

Julie rolled her eyes, leaning over to fist-bump him. "Deal."

Which was why, a week before their next red carpet, he got a text from an unknown number to meet him at a vintage store tucked away in a back alley somewhere. (Yes, he did check with Julie if it was her friend Flynn. He was a himbo, he wasn't an idiot.)

When he rounded the corner and saw what he assumed was Flynn standing there waiting for him, his first thought was 'wow, she really is fashionable'. His second thought, when she turned to look at him, was 'oh no, she's hot'.

His crush only grew throughout the day. Flynn was funny, and cool, and smart. She actually listened to what he had to say, and she totally agreed that his red butterfly suit was cool. She even suggested he wear something different to this event, and then wear the red suit the next time just as a big 'screw you' to the media.

He tried on a bunch of different stuff at the first store, Flynn yay-ing and nay-ing on some indecipherable scale that Reggie didn't understand. He did kind of like coming out of the dressing room and hearing her wolf-whistle at the red plaid suit, though. And if his face turned red to match when Flynn called him 'eye candy', well, all she did was wink at him.

They took a break after a few hours, getting cinnamon rolls and coffee at a local café. Flynn was so easy to talk to, Reggie could have stayed there for hours. They talked about fashion, but also music, and their childhoods. Flynn shared some incredibly funny stories about her and Julie that Reggie couldn't wait to bring up to her at some later point. Especially when she was ragging on them for being dumb.

The afternoon flew by as well. Especially when Flynn looked at him with a glint in her eyes and asked him what he thought about dresses. If the Fashion Police and the label were gonna drag him for being boring, that would be a great way to get them off his back.

Reggie had never felt prettier in his goddamn life, okay? The gown was floofy and flowly and huge, black with beautiful sparkles. The train was long and reminded him of storm clouds, rustling behind him. And it had a split at the front so he could show off 'those pretty gams of yours', as Flynn had joked. He was going to beat Alex at his own game. Hell, he was going to beat Julie. He was going to Win this red carpet.

Flynn even arranged for an Uber to meet them so Reggie could practice getting in and out of a car in it without flashing anyone or tripping on the train. He tipped the driver fifty bucks and sent her on her way. Once he was back in his ripped skinny jeans and flannel (which Flynn had said were fine, by the way, take that, stupid stylist), he met Flynn outside the store again.

"Okay, so just tell Julie to let you borrow her silver star necklace, and you should be good to go," Flynn said, checking her phone. They'd gotten shoes, found him a cool couple of rings and a bracelet, and discussed make-up. He had two new suits in a bag and the gown ready to be sent to his apartment after being steamed.

"I was thinking, maybe we could meet up some time?" Reggie asked, as they were saying their goodbyes. He didn't really want this day to end, but it was getting late and Flynn had plans.

"You need me to walk you through putting on the eyeliner?" Flynn asked, smiling.

"I was thinking more... dinner and a movie?" he said, trailing off hopefully. Flynn looked back at him, her mouth a surprised 'oh'. "If you don't- I'm sorry, if you're not interested that's cool, too, but I've never had as much fun clothes shopping as I did with you, and you're so cool and fun and funny and-"

"Dinner and a movie sounds great," Flynn said, cutting him off before he could list all the things that were great about Flynn.

A few months later, he was on the red carpet again, in his red and black butterfly suit, with the most beautiful woman in the world on his arm, wearing a matching black and red dress.

Suck it, Stylists.

#julie and the phantoms #flynnxreggie #flynn taylor #reggie peters #fanfic #AUs are awesome #I wrote a thing #let reggie wear a dress 2kalways #yes he does wear the dress to the next event and gloats about how he Won #Julie and Alex aren't even mad #yes Flynn 100% got a custom dress made to match Reggie's butterfly suit just to annoy the fashion blogs

20 notes · View notes

hidesinhisarchived · 1 year

Text

“I’m glad you agreed to come with me. You can’t hide out in the apartment forever, Mark.” Collins grinned as he wrapped a strong arm around the young filmmaker’s shoulders, pulling him in close as they walked. “It’s not like Maureen’s gonna come back around right now anyway. She’s having too much fun with what’s his fuckin’ face.”

Mark grimaced at his friend’s words as he nervously pulled his camera closer to his chest. The mention of Maureen stung, but he knew that Collins was right. Maureen was too busy having her fun, fun that Mark didn’t really enjoy. She’d probably come back when she was bored and he’d take her back because he was an absolute sucker for that woman. “I still don’t know about this, Collins. This…this doesn’t seem like my kind of scene.”

“Bah.” The older man playfully ruffled Mark’s hair as they entered the building. “I think you’ll do fine. There’s a lot of art world people here, Mark. Just be yourself, show off your camera skills, and you may make a new friend. Maybe have a fun little fling for yourself with some artsy chick who thinks you’re the cutest little thing in the world. Or some artsy dude.”

The filmmaker flushed at the mention of a guy and fell silent for a couple of moments as they rode the elevator to their designated floor. “I’m not gay,” he finally muttered as the doors opened and they stepped out. Collins didn’t seem to hear him. “Collins, why would you say that? I’m not…I’m not gay.”

Collins ignored him as they entered the apartment and he took off, leaving the freshly turned twenty year old completely alone. Mark clutched his camera tighter for a moment as he peered around, feeling overwhelmed and under dressed in his simple red sweater and plaid jacket. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly before taking a few steps deeper into the party. A couple of people spared him glances, but seemed overall disinterested. His mouth felt dry and his hands shook as he worked on setting up his camera to start rolling, slowly using it to scan over the crowd.

The weight of the Bolex in his hands was comforting, like an old friend that never left his side. Mark turned his focus on trying to find interesting people and scenes within the scene to film. Focusing on this, on the camera, on trying to find a good shot, distracted him from the anxiety that tore apart his chest and the darker thoughts that seemed to always lurk in his mind. He could turn all of that off for a little bit if he just focused.

Mark’s focus was broken when he accidentally bumped into someone. He jumped slightly, skittering back a couple of steps and staring up at the man that he’d run into. His heart dropped into his stomach as he found himself looking at the most attractive individual he’d ever seen. It took him a second to be able to form words, a part of him feeling every inch the idiot his father often told him he was. “I’m so sorry! I-I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and…I’m so sorry.” The filmmaker could feel his cheeks heat up slightly and he hated himself, even as he tried to keep his eyes from looking directly at the man’s exposed chest and stomach. “I’m sorry,” he repeated again, this time more of a mutter than anything.

@edgedglory gets a starter!

#edgedglory #ahs nyc verse name soon

2 notes · View notes

berrymeter · 2 years

Note

Now I'm curious about this bedman 👀 also feel free take to ur time answering my (many) questions 💕💕💕💕

BED.MAN. lies down (like him). ok let me grab a picture of this freak

first thank u for asking about the simplest thing in there LMAOOO ... so... Him. & his fucking downvote on his forehead. lmao. i'm laughing so i don't start crying i love this fucking guy

he & his sister were both born with a condition that is. pretty funny in theory but in practice it's kinda awful actually. the condition is such that they have wayyy too high human intellect to the point their bodies' cells are literally unable to keep up with their brains if they wake up, & would die in a matter of seconds if they did wake. his sister ended up like, kinda Going To The Backyard (source code of the universe i mentioned) & he's been motivated to bring her back ever since. he can affect the world around him through his bed which is his weapon, & the world of dreams, which is where he essentially lives & where he communicates with others from. he can also teleport ppl but don't worry about it

his personality is that essentially he's a redditor i fucking GUESS... "you have to have a high iq to understand rick & morty" type of guy except rick & morty is sooo far beneath him. he's a hitman & he's really good at it too bc he learns his opponents' weaknesses & breaks them down physically & mentally by listing their failings & shit lmao, except he also memorises the names & identities of every single person he kills so he can bring them back to life in the ideal world he's aiming to create. (this makes me fucking sick btw the whole 'oh haha this guy sucks' & then he actually wants to bring them back to life? i'm going to kms!!!) he also Does kill ram.lethal's puppy to teach her the importance of life/how to feel emotions (which is grand coming from him) but like he brings it back or smth so like it's whatever. he was supposed to kill ram.lethal but refused which thanks dude. he has never shown attraction to anybody & even his magnum wedding quotes (attack that makes you gay/straight for el.phelt) are like... "leave me alone wtf!!!" so ? asexuality win!

so anyway he fucking dies bc he gets taken on by ve.nom & ro.bo-ky (again feel free to ask abt them) & is forced to wake up to use his full abilities. except well. *pained smile* after they defeat him ar.iels shows up & mocks him etc etc & he's so fucking pissed & resentful & probably feeling like an idiot & also remorseful that he tries to kill her. and fails. and he turns into stone. and then into dust. now his consciousness remains in his bed apparently. & his sister's back! & she wants revenge! & she's friends with ba.iken who is so cool! but be.dman is fucking dead. & like i get why ve.nom & ro.bo-ky attacked him he Was a threat but godddd ... sigh;.. i care about him a lot i just need a moment look at him while i recover from shitty scrunkly's fucking dead disease

#asks #elle🐱#imagine getting the morbs over this guy. im a fool #guilted gears lore

3 notes · View notes

characterpunchh · 9 months

Text

storys untitled <3 but heres a list of the guys im currently going crazy over

Jude - 16 y/o commoner girl who gets hired as a castle guard during a diversity drive and IMMEDIATELY attracts the attention of the princess. they have a silly little gay romance while everything falls apart

Nara - the princess!!! 16 y/o bluntest person youve ever met. like shes polite but shes very sheltered and has NO understanding of social norms at ALL

King Cyneheard - THIS GUY. the king. naras dad. ok so his main thing is that he killed his wife. like that was a pretty significant thing he did. newayz what hes up to these days is death threatening his royal advisor for literally no reason because theyre the biggest doormat ever

Auden - the aforementioned royal advisor! total doormat. was a witness to the queens murder as a servant and immediately got promoted because they were obviously NOT going to tell on cyneheard & he needed Someone to help him out w/ the whole ' i killed a woman' thing

The Queen - SHES DEAD LOL. bonded to a light construct (little magic critters in my world :}) and got absolutely murdered for it <//3

Lydia - queens lady in waiting slash affair partner. to be fair cyneheard genuinely couldnt care less that shit was apolitical marriage. anyway now that the queens dead shes going super detective mode

Lottie - 14 year old assassin boy whos also bonded to a light construct! (their names oso). hes chillin. he was sent to kill nara but then he got arrested on the grounds of SPYING and hes REAAAAAAALLY cranky about that. i did not spy on ANYONE i was here to KILL YOUR PRINCESS---

Seraphina - mid-30s bigender person who isj ust another BREED man. like okay. so. his husband geo is a rebel against the throne. and she... works in the castle. obviously this is not a good mix especially when the king is Like That. so whats his response to being told if he doesnt separate from geo the king will have him (geo) executed? divorce the guy with no explanation leaving him to raise their 3 year old child alone. obviously. because if she gives an explanation geo wont be pissed and because hes a self sacrificial IDIOT (/aff) he cant have geo trying to 'Help Her Out'...

Geo - mid-30s man who is sooo sick of it dude. hes so tired. this poor guy. rebel against the throne, probably bonded to a light construct? ui havent totally decided. anyway this poor poor bastard just got divorced with absolutely no explanation and suffice to say. he is.... pretty upset.

#list #my ocs #jude #nara #cyneheard #auden #lottie #seraphina #geo #lydia

0 notes

ebbarights · 1 year

Text

living+ liveblog under cut

had a good day then a bad day then went for a run and now it's a good day again. let's see if this changes things

logan jumpscare omg

okay i didn't fucking miss him lmao. disregard previous posts

he's against powdering his face because that's gay

literally googled lorene scafaria yesterday bc she directed hustlers and her name sounded familiar only to realise i know her as bo burnham's partner kms

barefoot swede tw

matsson with his affected lisp maybe you should hang out with roman instead of shiv who's too good for you

i have skarsgård stockholm syndrome (lol) bc i've seen him in soo many things lately

the first meeting me when i lie

TWEETS AND DRUG RUMOURS glass houses ken

a friend sent me a roman fancam the other say bc i told her he's my favourite character and it kind of annoyed me a tiny bit bc. that's not what this is but also. lbr. it's exactly what this is

roman facial tic comeback!! honestly my favourite thing kieran does

i want someone to do a hug counter per episode/season when this is all over this one is off the charts

shivyyy :'((((

roman you're not ready to fuck. you never are and i love that about you

ANNABETH GISH????????? MY LOVE

why does she give him advice about grief tho. 'it just hasn't hit you yet'? she's right but that's a really weird thing to say to a stranger

sidenote i have german subtitles on this episode because i was eating and they're the only ones available and. everybody is using like. the formal you? and that's so weird. i don't think they should do that. they're all using first names

the segregation comment should be so telling for those guys who think roman is actually right-wing. he knows shit about all ideologies he just doesn't give a shit!! (that would be very bad irl but in the show i think that's an important distinction)

roman you can't just fire people because you brought it up

is ... the presentation that day? and kendall wants to build a house? dude do you know anything about anything

who is tk. shiv lore unlocked

i used to play something like bitey with a friend in school but with. i think it's called indian burn in english? don't think that name's okay but idk what else you would call it

why is greg there

kendall looks exhausted

roman with the you're fired is like a little kid who just learned a new trick

oooh no i know that gerri outfit i know what comes next :(

this conversation hurts but also this is lifeblood to me

oh so it wasn't your dad will wash you away it was the money. that's such clever editing

roman's on such a power trip it's crazy. maybe post-grieve a little that'll make you feel better

the way he immediately regrets it and his mouth when kendall says he shouldn't is actually killing me dead

tomshiv wouldn't survive a day in a trailerpark

kendall sounds so sad when he talks about the clouds

kendall baby you're so manic and the sibs totally know it

roman pulls him out of it straight onto the other side and then leaves him alone with it that's horrible. i get it but it's horrible

is the fingers to the forehead thing a grounding technique

it's still so crazy to me that their dad just died. like JUST died. and now they have to do shit like this because the company's toast otherwise. something capitalism something humanity etc

ROMAN HUGGING THE HUGE PILLOW LMAOOO

maybe i'm an idiot but why would the guy ask him about matsson's tweet that he obviously hasn't seen?

somebody stop this how long will kendall talk about the tweet this is on l to the og level

literally laughed out loud when roman showed hugo that matsson deleted the tweet

roman in the car 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(though the people who said roman was seriously genuinely for real horny listening to that make me fucking angry. necrophiliac believer bullshit)

the MUSIIIIIIIC

#ungodly long this time idk why #i just like being able to look back and see what i thought #succession s4 #succession spoilers

0 notes

imzsuzsis-blog · 28 days

Text

I've been home for quite a while, terrified of what he's saying. One, we broke up with Ollie, two, I'm pregnant by him and I'm pissed off that he'll cut me off if I tell him this, three, Max is in Miami and all he could say was fucking brave, dude, you know, like on the track last time when you came third and you weren't afraid. So I bought deep air instead and decided to hide it in the envelope. I'll tell you the truth about the test.

"Hey, I don't even know how to say this properly, but it's over, we broke up with Ollie" I saw that she was shocked and I started to cry. "Don't worry, don't worry, a breakup is just like that." "Fuck, I know, but even if we had sex." ,,So what?" "That shouldn't be your problem, you're boys." "I'm pregnant, fuck me, Flo is only a few weeks old, leave me alone!!!" I stormed out of the family villa alone, angry and sad, and the glass door broke behind me, I took the first car far away, I had nowhere to go, but I certainly won't tell them everything after this.

I had to park somewhere and take deep breaths, believe me, I'm pregnant, I took out the test again with tears in my eyes, I could only look at it. "I don't think some fucking embryo or something is developing inside of me right now" I tilted my neck back and joyful snorts and screams came out of nowhere. Mom called but I didn't pick up, I still had the fucking loneliness to eat it all up before I remembered I fell asleep again and only woke up to someone knocking on the glass. "Sorry, sir, I overslept for some reason, I'm not sleeping well, I'm really sorry." "No problem, it's a public parking lot open 24 hours a day, only my son noticed and then left, he didn't want to bother me either." "Oh, I understand, thank you, bye." ,,Bye bye"

At first, the guy seemed cute when he stood in line at the gas station for some chocolates and chips, and suddenly he didn't even know what planet he was on and suddenly poured his water on me. "I'm sorry, the family will have the chocolate and the chips, I'm hungry" "It's okay, where do you live?" Before you forget that too." "Now I'm staying with my family in the Bristol area and in Monaco." "I understand that you are English, but you live abroad. How old? I take it your child is careful?” "I'm twenty-four and I'm not in F1, either good or bad." "What is your name or are you called?" Because I rarely date, I don't know how to ask a boy or a girl out." "Lando, I don't know, it's just a conversation. I don't even know who you are, or who are you? seriously, you can't ask a boy out on a date like that, especially if he's a complete stranger, there's the risk of being robbed, which is not small this evening. Pay attention, this base is the name." "I'm good Loki and not of this world... And here I think I cut myself off, you seem human, unfortunately I'm not, no matter how I imagine." "Bakker, it doesn't sound stupid, but I believe in such things. My friends and family think I'm a gay gullible idiot because of it." I saw him giggling at this and showing the pictures on his mobile phone. In fact, his background image was a mythological creature and he had several of these apps on his mobile phone. "Yes, my number is, let's go on a date at some point, but let's be friends."

When I got out, my brain and eyes could only see colors, I got back in the car and I knew, "Fuck Lando, his wild stranger can even kidnap me!" but I just licked my mouth and waited for that one week to ring, not him. "Fuck me!" And I put it down, Flo was the one to go home and tell me, I don't really feel like it after all this, especially since the style seems so nice and normal at first. "Flo, no, I won't tell you, I just met a normal guy!!!" I pulled out the Speakerphone and pressed the horn with muscle so that half the people around me could hear it. "Well, the angry skoripo came home, my son, what the hell happened??? Huh??? Break up with Ollie and meet a forty three year old guy???? Where has your remaining common sense gone???? "We're not going to go on a date anywhere, our interests are to hell with it!!!! Maybe next year I won't spend the fucking Easter here with my child, mother!!!" ,,You're pregnant???" "Yes, so what?" I ran up to my room, slammed the door behind me, leaned back against him and started sobbing.

"If anyone says anything, don't come out here, they will give birth to the baby, leave the little one alone!!!!!!" I screamed, sobbing from the bottom of my throat and my head was between the pillows, not only tears but also snot were flowing from my face, when Cisc came in I cut one of the pillows to her. "Lando, hey, hey, calm down, you've turned into a drama queen again. Fuck you, even if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't tell him your secret." "Stop it, after Ollie and I broke up and he left me pregnant alone, I don't even know how to get an abortion, I just want to have an abortion in case of emergency... adoption... Mother!!!!!!" I had to get up and run down the stairs, "Yes?" "I know, but you wouldn't get a divorce, but I would raise the little one, but here is the eternal matter of adoption... Well?" ,,Lando comes with a little bit of resignation, would you be able to give up things because of him? But yes, the other language on the scale is adoption, but it is painful, which one?” "Yes, I can do it. And I can say things. And I can grow up, so I raise the little one.”

#lando norris #fanfic #gay #friendship #gay boys #so cute #loki laufeyson #loki #family

0 notes

charmdsinphony · 2 years

Text

I also decided imma just dump this emotional baggage I’ve been dragging along since last year bc i want to vent about it but i feel unheard when i talk about to my group I’m with now. For some backstory; while in college on Nov 2015, i was hanging out with two former friends (Kiara, F and Lucas, M) on a sad day. Kiara was going to a funeral in a different city and was going to be gone for the weekend. We all hadn’t really known each other long, but Lucas and i still rallied to be some support. Anyway, she leaves to go ride with other friends of the deceased, bc she doesn’t want to drive. That’s around the time things changed for me and Lucas; he and I weren’t that close at the time, but we both wanted to try and be friends (at least i did). As soon as she left, he locks his door and walks over to where i am on the bed and yanks on my pants. I’m kinda confused bc he’d said something about wanting to have s3x with me in crude, off handed jokes before but i was with someone at the time and any other day i was alone with him, he surreptitiously managed to keep his hands to himself in those moments. I don’t think much of it like the idiot i am and he immediately pulls again and my clothes are suddenly halfway down my thighs and there’s a person inside me. No questions, no previous innuendo made during the very serious conversation reminiscing about our friend’s dead friend, no nothing. It probably doesn’t sound so bad being written like this but idk how to classify it 🤷🏾‍♀️ bc after a few mins i asked him to stop and he did. I didn’t wanna go through with it at first bc i was with someone else and i was reeling from the fact that i was technically cheating and didn’t know how to feel. But those few brief moments of whatever were enough to change how we spoke to each other. From not being able to hold a conversation at all the suddenly realizing we like a lot of the same stuff. I’ve realized that my word vomit was more than likely a trauma response. Everything else happened just as fast after that; the other dude i was talking to at the time was suddenly deciding to join the army and we broke up, 2 weeks later Lucas is asking if i wanna be his gf and i, again like a fucking idiot, say yes bc i think he’s just gonna leave in a few months and i wanna not think about the shitty relationship i just left. We were both so wrong. Fast forward, 4 years and some change and 1 slightly better but still very emotionally draining (on both ends bc i can be a lot and i know that) relationship later, i break up w/Lucas bc he’s not giving the effort I’m deserving of and i realize that I’m gay as shit. Nothing awful; i was the one who felt the worst about it but whatever. And one year, post break up, he wants to try and date a girl he liked in college before me. I’m friends with her too; we’ve all been friends since college, those two were just closer and that’s fine. Admittedly, my feelings got a lil hurt bc i knew he’d treat her better with no hesitation and no fighting, but i wanted them to be happy together. I’m really the other woman in their circle of things. I told both of them the same thing, them dating doesn’t bother me, but him doting on her kinda does. But she didn’t wanna go through with dating him bc she didn’t want to hurt my feelings. It hurts but I didn’t care then and I don’t now. I don’t want a person who can barely give me hype over a randomly sent titty picture but falls over their feet to make the next person feel like a queen. I’m hurt bc he couldn’t be bothered to try for me even when i asked; I don’t need that in my life. So she didn’t fully go through with it and he got mad at me bc he thought i gave him permission to date her then lied to to her to get her to not actually do it. It got messy and the rest of our friends got the impression that he didn’t like me, as did i. He didn’t even come and talk to me to admit that he did jump the shark and was kinda harsh to me until Dec 2021 and that was at the behest of our other friend, the one he tried to date, and it’s been weird and messy since then. And for all that…

I just wish he would’ve left me alone. He never liked me and the whole ordeal made it abundantly clear. He tolerated me at best and i hate myself for wanting to try to be happy and wanting to try and fix things with people when i know that no one else will ever really try and put the effort in me; not unless i do it first. And keep doing it until i burnout or retreat into myself. Now i feel wobbly and weird and gross all the time. No libido which makes me saddest of all bc i love feeling good like that and now my body feels tainted and discarded. Frustrated bc i feel unheard and like I’m faking something but idk what. And so alone. All this makes me feel so alone and I’m sick of this lonely alone shit. I wanna discard this old skin suit and be something else.

If you made it this far, I’m sorry you had to deal with my confusing, emotional ass story, but i hope you have the best day 🥰🥰🥰

#story time #sorry for being depressing #i feel better #weird confession #relationships are hard

0 notes

winderlylandchime · 7 months

Note

2/2 He just saw Brian’s scar ‘HE HURT MY BOY! MY BOY IS HURT! HOW FUCKING DARE HE THAT MONSTER! YOUR STUPID BOYFRIEND HURT HIM!‘ Ethan is leaving and this man is now sitting and bouncing up and down ‘he’s leaving! He’s leaving! and please stay gone! HE NAMED HIS UKULELE?! just for that alone id break up with him. (Justin says Ethan will be back tomorrow) not if i have a say in it! WHY IS JUSTIN DUMBING HIMSELF DOWN FOR THIS DUDE? He just called himself an idiot because he didn’t know a quote or whatever. HEY! 1500 SAT! YOU GOT INTO DARTMOUTH! and you’re dumbing yourself down for the knock off version of Shaggy? Have some respect for yourself AND ME. (Ethan says you will be and shows his ring) I actually puked in my own mouth right now’ ‘BRIAN COME ON WHY WOULD YOU WORK WITH THIS HOMOPHOBIC PIECE OF SHIT?! Oh this dude for sure has a gay crush on Brian. I mean same but I’m better. BRIAN COME ON!’ WE ARE AT THE CONCERT SCENE! ‘Oh god here he go again, i cant esca- WHY ARE WE CLAPPING HIM? No stop that! You dont know him! You dont clap for terrible people! BLONDIE! BLONDIE IS THERE! HE SURPRIS-WHO IS THAT?…did you see how he looked back? OH HE IS CHEATING ISNT HE?! AND THE SAD VIOLIN MUSIC? OH FUCK YOU IF THIS IS THE CASE! PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT! JUSTIN BURN HIS HOUSE DOWN!’ Ted just got arrested ‘WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED? What the fuck? This is..what even? See! If you had stayed an accountant, we wouldnt be in this mess!..what’s that noise? Oh Benny Boy is puk- CAN YOU DO ANYTHING? MICHAEL HOW..lets me calm down so i dont say something rude…he has the spine of a gummy bear. He is a DRUG ADDICT! Why is he acting like he has the flu? Why does he keep throwing HIV into peoples faces? Dude, i get that he’s sick and this was before now so it’s different and scary but COME ON? At this point someone should smack him and tell him to get over himself..and i am willing to make the sacrifice to volunteer..i know what Ben is saying is serious but all i can think about is Brian saying that self pity makes his dick soft’ And we are finally at the Britin scene again ‘i really hate that ring. SEE BLONDIE! You miss the bars and the clubs! This *waves at him* pretentious behavior is not you. Wait i forgot he saw that fucker leave with that other fucker! Oh blondie, its gonna be okay, i know JUST the man who can mend that heart! (Camera shows Brian) *screams like a crazy person and pauses tv* AHHHH THERE HE IS!! LOOK AT HOW HES LOOKING AT HIM! He is trying so hard to pretend like he doesnt care (Brian watches Justin and then like closes his eyes for a second longer) *literally pulls his hair* AHHHHH FUCKING HELL! LOOK AT THAT! HE HAD TO CLOSE HIS EYES TO FORCE HIMSELF! He is so in love and still hurt and he wants to go to him but he also doesnt but he cant stay away. He didnt need to sit next to hi- YES BUY HIM ANOTHER ONE- NO THANKS?! JUSTIN WHY DO YOU FUCKING HATE ME SO MUCH? (Brian asks where’s your fiancé) RIGHT IN FUCKING FRONT OF HIM IF YALL WOULD JUST FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND STOP FUCKING PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF! (Justin answers and it shows Brian and he once again pauses tv and rewinds it) DID YOU SEE HOW HE CLOSES HIS EYES FOR A QUICK SECOND AGAIN?! DID YOU SEE THAT! HE HAD TO LITERALLY PULL HIMSELF TOGETHER FOR A SECOND! DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT! HE BLINK BLINK BLINK AND THEN CLOSES HIS EYES FOR A SECOND LONGER CAUSE THAT ANSWER HURT! (Brian points to the ring) seriously can we get rid of it- WHY ARE YOU LEAVING BRIAN! NO! COME BACK!!!…does that mean they broke up? Please say yes. I am begging you please say ye-ohhh cool trick’ Just so you know, he burned himself 3 times because he wanted to try to lit up a match the way Justin does it in the end of the ep.

Oh this dude for sure has a gay crush on Brian. I mean same but I’m better. I snorted so hard at this!

AHHHH THERE HE IS!! LOOK AT HOW HES LOOKING AT HIM! He is trying so hard to pretend like he doesnt care (Brian watches Justin and then like closes his eyes for a second longer) *literally pulls his hair* AHHHHH FUCKING HELL! LOOK AT THAT! HE HAD TO CLOSE HIS EYES TO FORCE HIMSELF! He is so in love and still hurt and he wants to go to him but he also doesnt but he cant stay away.

Your brother is alllll of us analyzing everything. Also he's right.

Just so you know, he burned himself 3 times because he wanted to try to lit up a match the way Justin does it in the end of the ep. I DIED AT THIS.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

1 note · View note

backseatloversz · 3 years

Text

thinkin about that time veronica said “they’re each others soulmates. good for them, don’t you think?” while her and archie watched bughead in a way that could only be described as Longing and i could very well interpet it as Repressed Gay Pining and nobody had cheated on anyone yet. yea

#yea yea later v said 'hey archie why were you looking at them so longingly? like u liked betty'#girl why were YOU looking at them so longingly?#shit wait was that before or after the barchie kiss? oh no #i fucking hate it here #also thinkin about archies lines abt moving to ny with jug who was like .. lmao what about our girlfriends #Dude !! he is an idiot gay leave him alone #let him yearn in peace #anyway dont cheat. its really easy actually ive done it my whole life #time 4 tags gimme validation #riverdale #veronica lodge #archie andrews #jughead jones #betty cooper #jarchie #jughead x archie #beronica #betty x veronica #cowboy posts

80 notes · View notes

tropes-and-tales · 3 years

Text

Ask for What You Want

Day 2: Pegging (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x F!Reader)

(For the 2021 Kinktober event offered by @beeschaos and @withlove-sid. The original post and calendar/list can be found here.)

CW: Idiots in love; smut (pegging, mostly, as the title implies); 18+ only.

Word Count: 5580

It starts, as many things with Pope do, with an argument.

You had grown up with the Miller brothers, had remained close friends with them, so when they muster out and return stateside, it is an easy thing to join their group. Tom is mostly okay. Frankie is a sweetheart.

But Pope? Pope irritates you.

Worse, Pope realizes that he irritates you, and he fucking leans into it. Says things, does things to get you riled up. Starts little arguments that leave you fuming and him smirking. He is a bedevilment, but you can’t truly hate him. He is a good guy, at heart. Whatever little squabbles spring up between you, you just chalk them up to personality differences.

If the other guys exchange knowing glances when you and Pope fight, you never think much about it.

Tonight, it is another Pope argument. Another teasing, riling comment. You and Benny had been joking around about Benny’s new girl who is, by all accounts, adventuresome in bed.

“A real tiger in the sack,” Will says with a roll of his eyes, and it earns him a laughing smack from you.

“What?” he laughs as he rubs his arm playfully. “I’m the one who lives with him. I’m the one who has to hear it.”

Because it’s a table full of guys, the talk always drifts to the bawdy. Benny is a few beers in already, so he gives an exhaustive catalogue of what this new girl of his does. All the positions, all the kinks. More venturesome things like pegging.

“Gross,” Pope groans at that bit of information.

“What’s gross about it?” you ask.

He shrugs, takes a sip of his beer. “Isn’t it kinda…” He trails off, but you catch his meaning. Isn’t it kinda gay is what he wants to ask.

And that’s how this argument starts. It’s how all of your arguments start: Pope asks a dumb question, and you have to answer him.

“What’s gay about pegging?” you ask.

He snorts. “What isn’t gay about it?”

“It’s Benny and his girl. Sounds hetero to me.”

“That’s not – “

“So is penetrative sex what makes it gay?” you continue. “What about two ladies with a strap-on? What about a lady alone with a vibrator?”

That makes Pope roll his eyes, and you hear Frankie’s beleaguered sigh.

“That’s not the same,” Pope protests.

“It is the same.” You tick off your points on your fingers, and you catch the little smile that Benny gives to Will across the table – but you don’t think much on it.

“Listen here, Garcia,” you tell him. “You need to wrap your mind around a more intellectual approach to sex.”

Another eye roll. “Here we go. What’s intellectual about sex?”

“Well, is it the dude getting penetrated that makes it gay? The proximity to a fake penis? If it’s the penis, then isn’t it gay for you to masturbate? I mean, you’re a guy touching a penis, after all.”

Benny and Will both laugh at that, and even Frankie hides a grin behind the rim of his glass. Pope scowls at you, and he turns in his seat to face you.

Back and forth the two of you go. In high school, you had been on both the debate team and the mock trial team, and the fact came out once when Pope complained about how you dismantled his weak arguments. That night, after whatever you had been debating over, Pope had hooked an arm around your neck and laid a smacking kiss on your cheek after declaring you a goddamned pain in the ass. Something about the action and his tone had given you a fluttery feeling in your stomach that took a while to die down.

Pope, as always, retreats into personal insults when he’s nearly beat.

“Sounds like you know all about pegging,” he says with a smirk, and if he is trying to embarrass you, he fails utterly.

“Obviously.”

At that, he drops his smarmy asshole façade. The look on his face is astonishment. “Wait, really?”

You shrug. “Of course. I’m a modern, open-minded woman, dating modern, open-minded men.”

Pope only repeats himself. “Wait. Really?”

You frown a little. “Well, sure. I’ve had anal sex before, so I know it can feel good if you’re with the right person. Why wouldn’t I want the person I’m with to feel good?”

It’s the first time an argument with Pope ends in his own stunned silence. He only sits there like a guppy, his mouth gaping a bit. The conversation turns back to Benny and his girl, and you put the whole thing behind you.

*****

Pope never wanted to like you.

The first time you turned up to a guys’ night, Pope had been vocal at pointing out how you weren’t a guy. He had just wanted to drink beer and watch the fight and let his guard down with his friends.

But the Millers brothers vouched for you, and by the end of that night, Pope was halfway in love with you.

With you in the periphery of his life now, he sees the women he usually dates in stark relief. You are smart and don’t hide it; you are outspoken. You are the first to speak up when someone needed put in their place…but you are also the first to offer comfort or support. You are perfectly balanced between head and heart, and it is so different from Pope’s usual partners.

You are also astoundingly open about sex. You go on dates, hook up with people you meet, and you parry those details with the guys when they talk about their own conquests. It scandalizes Pope at first – he was raised Catholic, raised in a family where women didn’t even admit to using the bathroom let alone talk freely about their sex lives.

Pope is also terrified of you. Truth be told, you intimidate him, and when Pope is backed into a corner like that, he regresses. With you, he regresses to approximately the age of nine or ten, which means he tries to convey his feelings as a boy on the playground would.

And because he can’t tug on your ponytail, he antagonizes you. Argues with you. He knows it is childish, and he knows that he isn’t endearing himself to you. But dammit, it is hot, almost erotic the way you turn to face him – squaring yourself up against him – before launching into your side of the argument. The corners of your lips turn down in a slight frown, but he swears your eyes light up at the challenge.

The shift in his thinking comes after your argument about pegging. The slightly repressed, slightly ashamed part of him was scandalized by the entire conversation, but it burrows into his head like a parasite and refuses to leave. It takes over his thoughts.

What would it feel like?

And then what would it feel like with you?

He could never ask you, of course. He burned any romantic bridges long ago by his immature behavior. But he does stop arguing with you, and it takes the guys a few weeks before they notice the lack of debate happening at their get-togethers.

If you notice, you don’t say anything.

What’s up with Pope? Will texts in the group chat that you aren’t included in. Pope rolls his eyes and tries to ignore it, but apparently all of the guys have spare time to talk shit about him.

Tom: I think whatever STD he caught in Seychelles settled into his brain finally.

Will: Does the clap make you a sad bastard?

Tom: Yeah, after it rots off your dick.

Frankie: You’re thinking of syphilis.

Tom: Fucking Doctor Fish here.

Benny: Seriously, you ok Pope?

Will: You need to talk to someone?

It goes on and on, the pings from his phone a steady beat. Pope reads them but doesn’t reply, but then Frankie – silent and observant Frankie – hits on the goddamned truth of it.

Frankie: I think Pope wants to get pegged by our girl.

Tom: ?

Benny: Oh shit.

Will: There it is.

Benny: You said the quiet part out loud, Fish.

It goes on some more, Frankie laying out his reasoning, which is all pretty much the truth. Of course Frankie drew the correlation between that night and Pope’s lack of arguing now.

Pope feels his stomach sinking – you are close to the Miller brothers, and one of them may get drunk and spill the truth to you….

Pope: If any of you say a fucking word to her, remember that I was in Special Ops. I know how to hide a body.

There’s a long beat of silence from his phone, and he can imagine the guys in their homes reacting to what is essentially an admission that Frankie is right. But then two more messages come through – one that makes him snort, and the other that makes him think.

Tom: We were all in Special Ops, you dickhead.

Will: You should tell her, Pope. She’d be into it. She likes you, you know.

*****

You can’t quite pinpoint when it happens, but Pope stops arguing with you. It bothers you more than you want to admit.

Instead, the man is silent around you. Nods at you in greeting and when you leave. Grunts monosyllabic responses when you ask him a question.

Maybe you pushed too hard at some point. Maybe you said something unintentionally rude. It wouldn’t be the first time.

It’s Tom’s birthday, and his wife is throwing him a party. It’s a family affair, so you have to keep it tame. You and the guys post up under a spreading maple tree and sip your beers as you watch Tom and his wife and kids play at being an ideal nuclear family.

At some point, the Miller brothers drift off, and Frankie disappears into the house and never returns. It leaves you and Pope alone in the lengthening afternoon shadows, and the silence between you is thick.

He breaks it eventually. “You ever think about it?” he asks.

“Think about what?”

“This.” He gestures with his half-empty beer bottle, sweeping to take in the backyard, the house, the people assembled. “This Leave It to Beaver bullshit.”

It’s a complicated question and not one you were expecting. You don’t answer – instead, you parry it back to him.

“Do you?” you asked.

He finishes his beer before he answers, giving a little hiccuping burp as he swallows. “I used to. Not much anymore.”

“What changed?” You turn your head to look at him askance, and you catch his shrug.

“Things didn’t turn out the way I thought, I guess.”

You hum at that, and you let the moment simmer between you. “I guess I’m the same,” you finally say. “Things didn’t turn out the way I thought they would either.”

“I had a girl,” he says, and the words come out haltingly, as if he’s forcing them. “High school sweetheart, all that bullshit. Came back from my first tour to find her seven months pregnant.” He goes to take another sip but remembers his bottle is empty. “I was gone for a year and a half, so I knew the math didn’t work in my favor.”

He glances at you quick, but then his eyes dart away – as if he’s embarrassed that he confided in you. Truthfully, you didn’t know much about Pope’s past – just the sly insinuations and bawdy jokes about his past conquests.

This is all new. Pope has never, in your recollection, told you a single serious thing in the time you’d known him. Everything was a joke or a challenge.

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen,” you offer. “Then I can tell you about all the assholes I’ve dated and we can argue about who has it worse.”

It has the desired effect: it makes Pope smile.

“I’m sorry that I always argue with you,” he says. “I thought I was being funny, but I just came across like a dick.”

You smile back at him. “Pope, if you think you’re the worst man I’ve ever argued with, you clearly haven’t met my last three boyfriends.”

That makes him tilt his head at you, and he gives you a long look before replying. “You haven’t been dating the right guys then.”

-----

It starts so subtly, you barely even notice it.

Tom’s birthday party broke some sort of ice with Pope, and now – dare you say it? – the two of you are friends. And not the casual friends-of-friends thing, like you are with Frankie or Tom. Pope is a bona fide pal now, able of standing alone without the long friendship of the Miller boys to back him up.

When your car won’t start one evening, you call Pope to come rescue you from the shady part of town where you had been.

When Pope is having one of his sleepless nights, he calls you to lull him back to sleep. He puts you on speaker, and you read from whatever book you are currently working through until your voice soothes him back into slumber.

When the Miller brothers are in Texas for a family wedding, and when Frankie has his kid for the weekend, you and Pope meet up for your own little buddy-hangout. He comes over with pizza and a six pack, and you provide your cozy apartment and horror movies on your big screen.

Together, you work your way through an entire catalogue of horror movies – starting with the cheesy slasher flicks of the ‘70’s and ‘80’s. It takes months, and tons and beer and pizza and take-out Chinese.

Sometimes the other guys come over, but they don’t quite get the allure of yours and Pope’s cinematic journey. Sometimes you go over to Pope’s apartment, but it’s a pure bachelor pad nightmare. The man doesn’t even own a proper couch – just a futon from his college years that sags horribly in the middle.

It happens one Friday night. The guys want to go to the gentleman’s club that just opened up a few towns over – something about soothing Benny’s broken heart since the sexually adventuresome girl dumped him. But Pope declines to join them, opting to spend the evening with you and the 1995 sci-fi/horror movie “Species” instead.

You would never figure out what caused it, even years later. Was Pope thinking about Benny and his ex? Did the thought of his friends getting lap dances get into his head?

Maybe it was the movie.

You hadn’t realized it, but “Species” is chock-full of….well, sexual scenes. The entire plot revolves around an alien DNA splice, and the resulting species trying to mate with human males, and it gets gross and uncomfortable very quickly. You were used to laughing with Pope about the corny sex scenes in the ‘80’s slasher movies, but he’s quiet at his end of your couch and you can feel the discomfort radiating off of him too.

There is a scene in the movie where the alien tries to mate with a human, and when he turns her down, she kills him – by stabbing him through the head with her alien tongue. It makes you wince at the gore, but Pope gives that snort that you know is paired with an elaborate eye roll.

“You think Benny’s ex was into that?” he asks you, but you are confused by the question and tell him so.

“You know,” he clarifies. “Because she’s into penetration.”

You laugh, and the recent memory resurfaces – that argument at the bar about pegging. It occurs to you that it was the last argument you had with him, and you tell him that too.

“I’m glad we argued about it,” he says, and he says the words carefully, as if he is weighing them in his mind first. “Gave me something to think about.”

You laugh again, toss a piece of popcorn at him. “You been thinking about getting pegged, Pope?”

He doesn’t say no. He doesn’t answer your question, and that’s an answer in and of itself. Instead, he bares a bit of his hidden away parts to you.

“You said something about being more thoughtful about sex,” he says. “So I did. Thought about it, I mean. I realized I had a lot of hang-ups.” He pauses, glances at you.

You hum at that, and he continues with a smile in his voice.

“It was the first time I actually listened to you.”

“Maybe you should have listened more. I am a plethora of wisdom, Pope.”

He doesn’t reply, and another twenty minutes of the movie pass in silence. When he speaks again, his voice sounds small. Sheepish.

“How does one broach that subject with a partner?” he asks. “Asking for more…unconventional things?”

You want to laugh, but you feel like your entire friendship with him hinges on your reaction in this moment. You bite back your smile, frown a little in thought.

“Pope, I think if you’re afraid to ask for the things you want in a relationship, that’s not a relationship worth having,” you tell him. “You have to feel safe enough to communicate.”

Later, Pope will tell you how he was intimidated by you, scared by you. Later, you’ll realize the courage he showed to make the first move. Later, he’ll tell you that the movie nights were just an excuse to spend time alone with you, and that he was happy to just be friends, but you gave him the nerve in that moment to try for more because you made him feel safe.

All of that comes later. Right now, he moves towards you slowly, his warm brown eyes a little wary, as if he’s afraid you might reject him. He closes the distance between you on the couch, and you turn to face him. You smile – not your usually snarky one, but a genuine, pleased smile - and you note how the tension leaves his eyes when you do.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and it turns out – yes, he can. He can kiss you.

In fact, he can do a lot more than just kiss.

-----

It’s ridiculous how easy the two of you fall into an ill-defined, kinda, sorta relationship. You aren’t wrong when you guess that a lot of the stories that surround Pope and his prowess are bullshit.

“Didn’t hurt my ego,” he told you one night with a shrug. “But a lot of times, I’d just take those informants somewhere and pay them off for information.”

He guesses correctly on your own hang-ups. You struggle with giving up your independence, with asking for and accepting help. Little by little, he helps you overcome that.

The sex started out okay – awkward, stilted. In the beginning, Pope was so nervous in bed that he practically vibrated from the tension, and the more you tried to reassure him, the more nervous he got.

But together, you learn each other’s predilections and preferences. A month passes, and then another. Pope relaxes, and then the okay-sex becomes good, then pretty good, then great. The two of you get past the weird awkwardness and actually have fun in bed.

More and more, he sleeps over. At first, he just falls asleep in your bed, too exhausted and sated to leave – and you don’t mind at all, because Pope is a champion cuddler and you sleep astoundingly well in his arms. Then you mention – as casually as possible – that he can leave a toothbrush at your place if he wants. A change of clothes. Maybe a spare baseball cap or whatever other essentials he may need.

When you clear out half of your medicine cabinet for his toiletries, that’s when the two of you go public with the guys. You hate the term boyfriend – it puts you in mind of middle school and holding hands while roller skating – so you call Pope your special gentleman friend, which makes the guys laugh.

The first I love you came from Pope. You don’t even think he notices it when he says it; it’s just a dumb moment, you making some stupid joke that makes him laugh harder than it should. When he swipes away a tear from laughing so hard, he says it – I love you – and he catches himself a beat later.

“Well, I love you too,” you reply. He smiles at you, then repeats it back to you, more meaningfully deliberate the second time around.

-----

Pope moves in with you, and that’s when he stumbles across your small, ornate chest of toys. You are carrying in another box of his clothing when you see him staring down at the box in your closet, the lid thrown wide to show the treasures within.

“I wasn’t snooping,” he says a little defensively, but you wave him off. You take in the look on his face – unreadable.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, cautious.

“No.”

You swallow hard. “Would you…like to try anything in there sometime?”

He turns to face you, and his face is still arranged in a stony expression, carefully blank. “I don’t know.”

You think of the things he’s told you about his exes. You think of his upbringing, the staunchly Catholic family that taught him that sex was mostly a sin. You remember the conversation that started this entire relationship, all those months ago during an uncomfortable horror movie.

“Santi, I want you to feel safe with me. Safe enough to ask for the things you want.” You reach out and cup his face in your hand. “I would never judge you.”

He nods against your hand, and you can see the column of his throat ticking as he swallows, opens his mouth to speak, snaps his mouth shut again.

Finally, he asks you, and you’ll never tell him, not in a million years, but it’s the exact moment when you know that your relationship with him will last. It’s the moment you are certain that he feels safe enough to voice his hidden desires, and when you feel honored to keep those desires safe.

“If I…theoretically wanted to, uh, be pegged,” he asks, the words slow and tumbling out of his mouth. “Would that be something we could…”

You close the distance between you, press a gentle kiss to his plush mouth.

“Of course, Santiago. Of course we can do that.”

*****

Pope wants to kick himself for taking so long: to be your friend, to kiss you, to say I love you, to move in with you, to give voice to the things he wants and to have you nod seriously and not laugh at him.

But how can he be mad? He’s found the woman of his dreams, and she’s just as intimidating as always, but she’s his. It all happens so smoothly after that movie night that he can hardly believe his life sometimes.

He knows when he moves in, when the awkward conversation about pegging comes up, that you’re it for him. There’s no going back; there’s no return from the way you kiss him and tell him that you want him to feel good, that you take his pleasure seriously.

You start small with him. You ease him into it with patience and care and a lot of good humor. You start with just a finger, your pinky finger, in fact – when you go down on him. Your blow jobs are always sensuous, worshipful things anyway, but the moment you slide the tip of your pinky into him, it pushes Pope’s entire world off of its axis.

Then you build it up, bigger and bigger. From pinky to forefinger, to two fingers, to the smallest plug available. Then a thicker one, a longer one. One that vibrates, and that makes Pope honest-to-god go blind with pleasure for a moment, his vision blacking out like someone turned off the lights. He comes so hard that night that you joke with him afterwards, tell him that he put a hole in your ceiling from the force of his orgasm.

But you’re a closet romantic, and when you finally set a date for the event, you wine and dine him like he’s a blushing virgin. Which…he kinda is, in this regard.

Still, that’s a revelation too: that he can give up control and allow you to seduce him with candlelight and soft music.

You look so goddamned sexy when you come out of your bathroom. Pope is a sucker for juxtaposition – combat boots and ballgowns, lace bodysuits under faded and torn jeans. You know it, too. Tonight, you chose a pale pink lingerie set, soft as the edge of a cloud: the lacy cups of your bra barely hiding your dusky nipples, the panties edged in satiny ribbon.

And the harness of your strap-on? Pure industrial craftsmanship, tooled leather and shiny silver buckles, holding the incongruous purple dildo in place. The purple is bright, and it makes Pope laugh when he sees it.

You smile at his laughter. “What?” you ask with a shrug. “This is the best one for pegging.”

Pope trusts you, so he nods, and you join him on the bed.

You go so slow. You are so careful with him, so gentle. You kiss every inch of him, and it feels adoring. Pope has never felt adored in his life. He feels so safe, so loved, that at one point, he nearly cries.

But he doesn’t, and you don’t notice when he goes silent, and when you settle over him, he’s in control of his emotions again.

“Are you ready?” you ask. Your voice is husky, and your eyes are dark, pupils blown wide in lust. Pope is taken aback by how turned on you are. You’ve told him over and over, how doling out pleasure turns you on, but he doesn’t quite believe it until just this moment.

Here’s where Pope had struggled, and where your forthright sexual knowledge came in handy. He was terrified to start doggy style, but you told him – matter of fact, not a hint of shame – that there were endless pegging positions, and if he were worried about it, he could pick one he was more comfortable with.

He chose missionary, surprised when you had offered it. You had smiled at his choice, said it was good because you could watch his face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort.

“I’m ready,” he tells you.

You answer by kissing him, your tongue pressing into his mouth, your breath coming out in pants already. He’s already so hard between you that he swears he can feel his pulse in his cock. After a moment, you break away. Reach over to the nightstand where the bottle of thick lube was already waiting.

It shouldn’t be so hot, watching you slather the lube onto your ridiculous-looking purple cock. But Pope amends the thought, casts the shouldn’t out of his mind. Of course it’s hot. It’s you.

Then you coat your finger in a dollop of lube and slide it into his tight channel, working him open and coating him in the slippery substance as you go. You keep doing it, working more lube into him, helping him relax at the intrusion, cooing in his ear that he’s doing such a good job.

And then it becomes teasing, and Pope’s lingering doubts fall away to a building need. He can feel a fine sheen of sweat break out across his body, and he shivers as you work a second finger into him.

“Please,” he whines, and you don’t prolong the torture.

Instead, you stretch over him again, kiss him again. Murmur that you love him, remind him that you’ll stop the very second he tells you to.

“I love you too,” he whispers. “But please fuck me.”

All of the preparation in the world couldn’t prepare Pope for the sensation of you sliding into him. All of the plugs, your fingers…it isn’t the same. The blunt head of the dildo presses, presses against the tight ring of muscle, and it hurts – a burning, wonderful pain that is spiked with a pleasure so intense that he cries out, which stills you. Your eyes peer down at him and he pants out, pleads with you to keep going –

So you do. You push, slow, and you’re prolonging that burning pain, but it’s braided with pleasure and then he feels his body give way, open up to you, and you slide in a fraction at a time. Pulling out, pushing back in – each thrust opening a bit more of himself to your intruding length, each ridge on the dildo echoing that pain/pleasure until you are buried inside him.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes out, and it’s another regret – that he waited so fucking long to be penetrated. Is this what you felt when he entered you?

He opens his eyes to see you staring down at him, your eyebrows knit together a bit in worry, so he adds, “fuck, why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You laugh at him, bend your head to kiss him. When you do, you start thrusting into him – just small movements, and Pope can feel you hitting some part of him that makes him see stars.

“Not gonna last very long,” he warns you between thrusts, and his words come out fuzzy, slurred, as if he is drunk. “Feels too good.”

“Don’t need you to last, Santi,” you purr in his ear. “Because I’m going to make you come twice. Once with that perfect cock of yours, and once with that perfect ass.”

Then you start dealing him thrusts in earnest, bracing yourself on your arms as you jolt into him. He can feel it, the way the blunt head of the dildo presses into some part of himself, but he can also feel the smooth skin of your belly against his erection, and it’s too much feeling in too many places.

He comes first against your belly, that familiar buzzy sensation at the base of his spine, in his balls as that taut coil of pleasure tightens, then snaps. He groans underneath you, raises his head to kiss you and it’s sloppy – his tongue in your mouth, his lips moving drunkenly as he spills his release between the two of you. But you never stop thrusting – in fact, you ride him harder. It’s enough to jolt him underneath you, and he raises an arm to brace himself against your headboard.

His second orgasm isn’t like anything he’s ever felt before. One moment, he’s keenly aware of the pressure inside him, the hammering end of the dildo hitting that part of him….and then, the next moment, he comes. It washes over him like a tidal wave, washes through every cell in his body. His toes go numb. His vision goes white with pleasure, and he shivers underneath you as he cries out, his voice a harsh moan.

-----

Does he black out? He may have; he has no recollection of you pulling out of him. He sort of remembers you cleaning him up, a warm washcloth soothing him. And then, long moments later, you are lying beside him, your face peering down at him.

“Did you have a stroke?” you ask, and your face is so serious that Pope laughs. Pulls you down to him and kisses you, thanks you over and over.

When you break away, he notes your own smile, but then he feels a sting of guilt. You gave him so much….

“What about you?” he asks, and a bolt of panic goes through him. He’s been selfish, and he reaches down, fumbling at your sleep shorts that you changed into at some point.

You still his hand gently, move it away from you with a slight smile. “I already came, Santi,” you tell him. “That dildo was made for ladies, and there’s….I dunno. A little nub piece that does the job quite nicely.”

“Doesn’t seem fair,” he grumbles. “I got so much – “

“Hush.” You put a finger against his lips and your smile widens. “Unless you want to argue about it.”

But then your smile fades, and the serious cast returns to your face.

“Santi, I really want you to know how much it means, you trusting me like this. I know it wasn’t easy – “

He reaches up to take your hand away from his mouth, and he kisses the back of it before pressing it against his bare chest. “You made it easy,” he tells you, just as serious. “You make all of this so easy. Living with you, loving you. Letting you love me. All of it.”

It makes your smile return, and you kiss him again before settling against him. His pleasure has left him utterly sated, completely exhausted, and it must have done the same for you. It takes you only moments before you are asleep, snoring gently against him.

He was being honest when he said it – you make it all so easy for him. He’s never felt so content, so safe…so utterly sure that he’s where he needs to be, with the person he needs most. Pope kisses the top of your head and starts to drift off too, but before he does, he knows what comes next: his own little hidden away treasure, tucked in his sock drawer, ready to go onto your finger and make you his for life.

~~~Tag List~~~ @bananas-pajamas @rachelxwayne @stardust-fray @massivecolorspygiant @imspillingcoffee @amneris21 @paintballkid711 @mad-girl-without-a-box @bestattempt @rosiefridayrogersunday @strawberrydragon @hoeforthefictional @greeneyedblondie44 @isvvc-pvscvl

#Santiago Garcia #pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia imagine #pope garcia x reader #pope garcia imagine #Triple Frontier #kinktober2021

549 notes · View notes