#because they make this one episode and try and dumb it down into 'oh you have to share' like.. it's..not..that..simple..

[akumakosuke]

T.w: Subbot Amab Kento Nanami x Topdom Amab reader. Breeding kink, overstimulation, size kink (kinda), multiple orgasms, creampie, praise, degradation, cock warming, feminization (calling Kento's hole a pussy), fluffy aftercare.

P.s this has been in my drafts forever!! I completely forgot about it until someone reminded me!

I'm actually going feral right now.

I watched the new episode of JJK last night and good lord MAPPA fed me a full course meal drinks included.

Did you see my husband's looking all sexy and oh so fucking breedable?

I'm writing a separate post for Toji, someone sent me a request for breeding Sugar baby Toji and I'm working on it, this is all about my love, my darling, my glorious Nanami Kento. (I still have the Toji one in the works)

Like most men I crave I literally want to marry Nanami and make him my house husband.

I want to just keep him at home (full of my cum) and take care of him, provide for him mind, body and spirit. I want to make him feel safe, loved, cared for, appreciated, needed and genuinely wanted.

I want to come home from a long ass day of running a huge company, completely exhausted and wanting nothing more than my big strong man in my arms.

I would open the door and immediately be woken up by the most amazing smelling dinner and most importantly a fresh loaf of Kento's favourite thing ever, bread.

I would feel all the tension, anger and tiredness melt away as I closed the door, finally got to take off my shoes and coat.

I would place my bag down and when I look up it would be as if God themselves came down to this meaningless float rock we call Earth and blessed me, a nobody with an Angel of my own.

He would stand there in all his glory, his broad shoulders that seem to relax in my presence, those huge pecs that always seem to fit perfectly in my hands, that slim waist that I know for a fact is still bruised from last night, those muscular thighs that could definitely crush my skull, those veiny hands that used to be so dangerous, he hated that, hold me with such gentle touches.

I would smile and he would try not to, as usual keeping up with his ‘i'm always serious because I'm mature’ act that he puts on as a facade, he and I both know he's just a big softie that genuinely cares about his friends and will do anything to protect them.

I would say something cheesy like “Honey I'm home.” with a smirk because I know he hates those dumb romantic comedies.

His smile would instantly fade and he would roll his eyes and mumble “Idiot.” and walk away.

I would laugh and follow him inside, then with a teasing tone say something like “You're supposed to say ‘Welcome back Dear.’ and then kiss me.”

He would ignore me as usual and change the subject “Go wash your hands they're filthy and I baked a new type of bread, the lady at the bakery gave me the recipe.”

I would come out of the bathroom with freshly washed hands and take a seat at the dinner table and say something like “Yeah, smells good hun.”

He would hum in acknowledgement he's listening and bring over the delicious food he cooked and his new bread then place them on the table.

Then he would stand over me with his hands on his hips causing me to -on not normally casual settings- look up at him in confusion.

He would then place an arm on my chair and turn it, making me fully face him and I would happily admire the view.

He's wearing grey sweatpants and a black swear shirt with that cute pink apron I bought him that says kiss the cook.

I would smirk knowing he only wore that because his normal plain black aprons mysteriously disappeared when the pink one showed up.

He would then tangle his thick hands in my hair, suddenly tugging on it and making me groan in pain, the action immediately makes blood rush to my dick.

He would force me to look up at him and with that ever so stern expression say something fucking hot like “Now that you've washed your hands, didn't you read the apron?”

Then he would give me no time to respond as he leans forward and roughly captures my lips in a heated kiss.

I would easily give in and let him do what he wants, this always happens. In the beginning Kento takes charge, he knows exactly what to do to get me hard enough to fuck his pretty brain dumb.

Kento is a smart man, he knows how to get what he wants. He knows what he's doing when he straddle my lap.

Those thick thighs would flex around mine, squeezing me as his crotch 'accidently' grinds against mine.

He would tighten his grip on my hair, bringing his other arm around my shoulders and deepen the kiss, mumbling a fake apology, as if he doesn't want me to fuck him.

My hands would instinctively find his waist, I would say something like “Don't apologize love, take responsibility Kento.” then I would squeeze his waist and grind his plump ass on my fully hard dick.

He would moan and kiss me deeper, then he would start to roll his hips without my help. The friction from the fabric against our hard length sends shocks of pleasure through our entire bodies but it's not enough.

Then while Kento would be kissing me, his hand around my shoulder would travel down my chest and tug at my belt. Kento would let out a needy and frustrated grunt when my belt doesn't come off instantly.

He's not fucked out enough to be whining in desperation, no I'll have to work hard and drain those beautiful sounds out of him.

One of my hands would quickly travel to my belt, undoing it with ease. Then I would undo his belt, neither of us breaking the ruthless kiss or grinding.

We would unzip each others pants and I would easily lift both of our weights and slip my pants and boxers off, Kento would stand and take off his pants and boxers.

We would groan into the kiss as the cold air of our house brushes against both our erections, both our lengths hard already leaking bits of precum.

Both of us are still sensitive from last night/ this morning but we can't get enough of each other, it's like a drug it turned into an addiction..

It's not just fucking, it's the intimate act of sex, exposing yourself, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and connect on a level more than just our bodies.

He would straddle my lap again and his hand would waste no time and start pumping our lengths against each other.

The only sounds would be our aggressive kiss and the slick sound of Kento fisting both our lengths together with the aid of our pre.

My hands would dig into his fleshy ships, god the muscle will feel hard like marble but his skin would be soft like a fucking cloud.

He would moan into the sloppy, open mouth kiss and I would devour each and every honey dipped noise that falls out of his pretty little mouth.

My huge dick would be throbbing against his, his own length is an impressive 7 inches mine about 3 inches bigger.

It's not a big difference but my baby Kento is a big boy, I would just be a bit bigger but strong enough to pick him up and fuck him till he can't walk anymore.

Then Kento would lift himself off my hips and align my dick with his already prepped hole, then he would waste no time and slam himself back down on my entire length.

Fuck, his hands would instinctively latch onto my hair for some stability, loud moans and pretty whimpers would fall out of his mouth like a waterfall straight from heaven.

My hard length would twitch in pure bliss, surrounded by his soft, velvety walls, sucking me in and holding me hostage with a vice like grip, no matter how many times we fuck he's still as tight as a fucking virgin.

My tip would be poking and prodding at Kento's prostate dead on causing him to cum just from impaling himself on my dick.

Kento's thighs would flex around mine, his hole would tighten and he would pull my hair back, detaching from my lips just for his jaw to go slack and his toes curl as thick ropes of cum spurt out of his red rip, onto both our chests.

Kento would have a fucked out expression, his brain already fuzzy from cumming just once, his eyes would glaze over with tears, he's always been a cryer during sex, not that I'm complaining fuck I love it when he cries.

Kento doesn't cry about anything, he hates crying, the only time he cries is when he's too fucked out to think straight.

The pride of a cumming, crying Kento would straight to my dick as my grip on his hips tighten, bringing him back to reality.

Kento's vision would start to focus on me and he would see a devious smile, to anyone it would look sweet, loving almost but Kento knows it's anything but.

“Did you just cum?” I would ask in a mocking tone, bucking my hips up suddenly sending shocks of pleasure through Kento's body as more pathetic ropes of cum would spurt out from his still hard dick.

He would moan and try to shake his head, his grip on my hair would loosen and his hands would drop to my shoulders, fat tears would stream down his face as he would attempt to apologize “N–No! Fuc-k ’m s-sorry! Sorry~ AHH ah~ nghh~ s-sorr– ah ah ah– sorry.. ’m sorry~ ngh~”

He would mumble out his thoughtless apology, leaning down and kissing my neck, sucking, licking and biting as an attempt to make up for his transgressions.

I would scoff knowing his apology means nothing and let him keep mouthing at my neck, I would ignore my aching dick, it feels like my dick is gonna melt, it's so good.

I would lean in a pepper Kento's neck with gentle kisses, giving him a false sense that i'm not going to punish him then I would say something reassuring like “It's okay love, you don't have to apologize.”

He would continue sobbing and marking my neck, switching to 'thank you's' instead of 'sorry', his eyes would widen when he feels my smirk against his neck and my hands lifting his hips, slowly pulling out my dick inch by inch making him whine.

I would press my lips just below his ear and whisper “Just be a good husband and take your punishment~.” then without warning slam him back down on my length making both of us moan.

Kento would let out a high pitch moan, his body slumping forward, his head resting against my shoulder, his fingers tangling in my hair as tears streaming down his pretty face, his toes curling as incoherent and broken moans fall out of his mouth as I lift him up and slam him back down on my length over and over again.

I would groan as his hole suck's my entire length in every time I pull out till just the tip and slam him back, his warm, wet gummy walls would fit my entire length perfectly, the perfect cock sleeve and he's all mine.

That very thought would make me go crazy as I tighten my grip on his hips and slam him down once more, my tip prodding his prostrate dead on making his head fall back as his jaw falls slack and a strangled moan tries to escape his lips but no sound comes out. Fucking glorious.

“Fuck– such a good slut- taking all of me without complaining, such a whore, my whore~.” I would groan out, rutting my hips upwards so the tip of my cock massages Kentos prostrate, making his brain completely switch off.

“AH~! FUCK- NGH~ MMMHM~ C-CAN'T~! T-too mUch~! S-So gooood~! Ah~ FUCK- P-please~! Wanna CUM! P-PLEASE GOD! LeMme cUm~! WAnNa cuM~ PLEASE SIR~! F-fill me up~! FUCK PLEASE FILL ME UP~!” Kento would mindlessly whine, desperately pleading for release, his large hands clawing at my back as he rock his hips against mine, trying to push himself over the edge but because I'm a cruel bastard I wouldn't let him cum so easily, especially after he came the first time without permission.

Besides cock sleeves don't get to make requests, even if he did ask nicely.

I would snicker, looking at his flushed, desperate fucked out face, eyes rolling to the back of his head, face flushed dark shades of red, sweat glistening across his beautifully bruised skin, his mouth moving spilling an endless stream of pleas for release.

He would be too fucked out to notice one of my hands leaving his hips, only registering the movement when my big, rough hand takes ahold of his leaking shaft, the calloused feeling of my hand on his rock hard, oversensitive dick would send a jolt of electricity down his spine and his eyes with snap open.

He would have cum right then and there if it weren't for the fact my hand is squeezing the base of his dick, hard, making it impossible to actually cum but that doesn't dampen the sheer shocks of pleasure from racking his brain, causing a pathetic whimper as his dick twitches and he has a brain melting dry orgasm.

“Ah~ fuck! Look at you! You're squeezing my dick so fucking tight! Mhm~ good fucking boy! So desperate to milk my cock dry huh? Fuck~! You want it? You want my seed deep inside you-? Fuck, gonna be my cum dump? Yeah, yeah you're my fucking cum dump~! M’ gonna breed you full~! Gonna let daddy take care of you hmm? Let me fuck my cum so deep in that tight pussy~? Imagine how fucking good you'd look stuffed full of my cum~! Gonna get you fucking pregnant~ Stuff you full and plug you up so none of my cum gets wasted~! Ah~ yes-! Fuck fuck fuck~! So good~ So fucking good for me Kento~! Want me to fill you up~? THEN TAKE IT-!”

I would moan out as his hole spasms around my dick, like he actively trying to milk me for everything I'm worth and who am I to deny my glorious husband's request. I would feel my dick twitching, the white hot coil in my stomach ready to burst.

I would wrap my hands around his waist picking him up so just the tip of my dick is still inside his velvety walls before slamming him back down, shoving my entire length inside his perfect pussy, my dick twitching in pure bliss as ropes of sticky cum paint his insides white, spitting ropes of hot cum so deep inside him.

I would be mercifully and release his dick, pathetic ropes of hot, white and clear cum dripping down his softening dick as a powerful orgasm leaves him completely limp in my lap, my throbbing dick still nestled deep within him.

He would nuzzle his face against my neck, tears streaming down his face, his legs shaking as he wraps his arms around me, trying to ground himself as he babbles out a multitude of 'thank yous', still trying to catch his breath as sweat drips down his body.

I would wrap my hands around his trembling frame, fingers delicately tracing the bruises on his hips, my face also nuzzled against his neck as I place soft kisses against his burning skin, slowly bringing him out of the clouds while whispering how good he was, how perfect he is and how lucky I am to have him.

We would sit like that for a while, my soft dick buried deep inside his abused hole, wrapped in each other's arms, softly muttering praises to each other as we got out breathing under control and came down from our highs.

“You did so well my love, so good for me. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” I would suggest after we've been sitting there for about half an hour, he would have stopped trembling and gotten comfortable, slumped against me while he cock warms me.

He would tiredly nod, not having any strength to speak and I would put my hands under his thighs, slowly lifting him off my soft cock, he would groan at the feeling of my dick leaving his tight hole, my cum leaking out and dripping down his thighs.

I would get up and pick him up, his legs wrapping around my waist and his hands wrapped around my neck, his head resting on my shoulder as I carried him to the bathroom, still muttering soft praises in his ear.

We would get to the bathroom and I would put him down on the toilet seat, being gentle as I do so because I know hes sore, he would hiss as the cold lid of the toilet seat touches his bare ass but the cold feeling would be welcomed.

I would quickly start filling the tub with warm water, getting some bubbles and rose petals to make it even better because Kento deserves it.

Once the tub is full I would gently pick up Kento and deposit him in the tub, his no doubt exhausted body immediately sinking into the warm water, letting it loosen all his muscles.

I wouldn't smile as I get in behind him, putting both my legs on either side of his waist as he rests his back against my chest, my arms wrapping around his chest as I hold him close, once again muttering small praises into his ear.

Kentos body would go completely limp in the warm water, resting his head back against my shoulder, his eyes closed as he relaxes in my hold and lets me take care of him after fucking his brains out.

After a few minutes of simply soaking in the water and basking in each others presence I would start washing him, then wash his hair and gently finger all my cum out of his puffy hole, making sure not to overstimulate him too much.

Once we're both done bathing I would once again carry him to our room and gently lay him on the bed as I grab out matching pajamas.

Once we're both changed I'd climb into bed with him, our automatic position would be us spooning, me being the big spoon with my arm wrapped around his waist, holding his back flush against my chest as he curls up against me.

“You were such a good boy today Kento, you did so well. You deserve to rest now, Darling. I love you baby, get some sleep.” I would whisper in his ear, my voice filled with genuine love and admiration as I kiss the back of his neck, resulting in a pleased sigh from Kento.

“Mhm, I love you too daddy~ Goodnight.” he would mumble as he yawns, closing his eyes as he drifts off to sleep, his mind having been fucked free of any thoughts then slowly brought back down leaving him completely and utterly satisfied.

We would sleep soundly in each other's arms, knowing only safety and comfort in each other's embrace. I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, knowing I have my soulmate wrapped in my arms.

#dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #male reader #akumakosuketoughts #jjk x male reader #sub nanami #kento x male reader #bottom nanami #nanami x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x seme male reader #jjk nanami

[carmenberzattosgf]

OH MY GOD CARMY SMOKING WHILE YOU RIDE HIM walk with me…

maybe you’re at his place, or his office, and you’ve just been kinda needy all day. not to an ‘annoying’ extent, but carmen sees it because he knows you. so when he tugs his jeans and boxers down just enough for you, you pounce

he leans back in his couch/chair, pulling out a cigarette and lazily watches you go at it. maybe he’d tug your shirt up so he could ‘see his girls.’ his nonchalance just drives you fucking crazy and he lets you do it yourself, no matter how many times you whine for him to help because ‘you were fuckin’ gagging for it all day, who am i to interrupt, huh? jus’ keep fuckin’ me like that’

i don’t think he’d blow smoke in your face (intentionally) but if you find it hot he would. and once he’s done he puts out the cigarette, his lax grip on your thighs tightening as he starts snapping his hips against yours

Also includes this ask I got shortly after: Camry smoking a cig during sex has my mind going brrrrrrrrrrrrr. It's so lazy, too. just slow riding him while he lays back and watches. Maybe it's punishment for acting up???? You're just whining on his cock begging for him to help you cum.

I. YEAH. YOU GET IT. Time to expand on these thoughts. ( this ended up being 1670k words of filth)

You find yourself at Carmy’s apartment on his day off. Those don’t come around too often. You expected him to do something by now, but he hasn’t made a single move to get his hands on you. He kissed you when you came in, but that was about it.

You take matters into your own hands. Try to, at least. You are practically all over him, never leaving his side. When he’s standing at his kitchen counter that evening, pouring you a glass of wine, you quietly walk up behind him. Your arms wrap around his waist while you rest your forehead on the center of Carmy’s back. You let your hands gently slide over the taunt muscles of his stomach over his shirt as you speak.

“I’ve missed you, Bear. Missed your hugs. It feels like I’ve hardly seen you all week.” He sighs into your touch.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Carmy turns around to hand you the glass. “Work was extra crazy this week. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to see you.”

“It’s alright. I know it was out of your control…Maybe there’s a way you can make it up to me?” You flash him a look he knows full well.

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips. “Sweetheart, I’m exhausted. Can we just watch some tv?”

You don’t even attempt to hide the pout on your face as you settle next to him on the couch, leaning against him with his arm around you. Carmy put on a show he knows the both of you like.

You only keep your hands to yourself for one whole episode. Your movements start slow. At first you begin to trail your fingertips along his side. It’s not long before your hand slides up under the fabric of his white tee.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Carmen’s voice is smooth and calm. You lean up to press a kiss on his check, followed by a quick one to his neck.

“Oh. Nothing.”

“Let’s not play dumb now. I think you know better than that.” He leans back away from your body, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m going to let you try again. What are you doing?”

You fold instantly. “I need you, Carm. I really need you.”

“Yeah? Missed my cock, huh? Want it so bad that you don’t care about how tired I am?”

“No! No, that’s not it—“ you protest quickly.

“Fine.” Carmy begins to unbuckle his belt as he speaks. “But I’m not putting in any work.” He lowers his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick.

Without a second thought, you stand up from the couch and pull down your pants and underwear. Once you straddle his hips, you reach down and pump his hard cock, spreading the precum over his length. Carmy takes in the sight of you as you gradually sink down onto him. Slowly, inch by inch.

Despite how many times you've been with Carmy, you still haven't gotten used to the stretch. In a position like this, it almost feels like he's in your stomach. Your eyelids squint shut while you take deep breaths and try to adjust. Though, at the sound of a lighter, your eyes pop right back open, staring down at Carmen with wide-eyes. A cigarette rests between his lips, having just been lit.

“W-what are you doing?” You’re expecting him to start guiding your hips, but he doesn’t. Carmy leans back against the couch, making himself comfortable. He lets his legs spread wide, forcing you to straddle higher up on his hips. The action presses his cock even deeper inside of you. He looks as though he’s having an evening cigarette, only difference is that you’re on top of him.

His tattooed fingers takes the cigarette from his mouth so he can blow out the smoke. Carmy turns his head to the side, blowing the smoke cloud away from you. The smell quickly fills up your nose. "I told you, l'm tired.” His voice is stoic. If it wasn’t for his cock pulsing inside of you, you wouldn’t think he’s turned on. “Go on and get yourself off. I'm going to enjoy my cigarette."

You start slow, grinding your hips on him. Your hands rest on his lower stomach for leverage as you rock against him. His abs are taunt and hard underneath your palms. The motion rubs your clit on his pelvis, causing a breathless moan to leave your throat.

Carmy remains still beneath you, watching you with lust-filled eyes. One of his hands rests on your thigh. His other hand tends to the cigarette in his mouth. He speaks up after a moment of letting you rock against him.

“Should have just let you sit on my thigh if all you’re going to do is grind on me. Thought you said you wanted my cock?” He waits for your response, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips to take a deep drag.

“I-I do—“ Carmy doesn’t let you finish your sentence, lightly blowing smoke into your face. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around him from the simple action, but he chooses not to tease you for it.

“Then fuck yourself on me. You’re a big girl. You can do it by yourself.”

You whimper pitifully. You want his strong arms to grab your hips and slam you down onto his cock, but that wasn’t going to happen. You rise up on your knees, letting his cock thrust almost entirely out of you. Your hips sink right back down onto him afterwards. The pleasure is unexplainable, sending electricity through your veins as he bottoms out.

You set a slow pace, not able to go as fast without Carmy’s help. His pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, before his gaze moves downwards. He watches as his cock disappears inside of you with each slow thrust. You’re dripping, coating his dick with your arousal. The sight of his thick cock stretching you out hypnotizes him.

His lack of words and refusal to help is killing you. You need him to fuck you. Your thighs burn, growing tired from the repetitive movements. “C-carm. Need you to help. Please- please I need it.” You cry out.

“You were the one gagging for my cock all day. Why should I help? Just keep fucking me like this, yeah?” He’s nearing the end of his cigarette, only a couple more minutes of life left in it. You try your best to continue bouncing on him, but it’s getting more difficult by the minute.

“Carm— fuck!” You exclaim as his cock nudges against that spot deep inside you. Carmy ignores your cries. He takes his hand off of your thigh and tugs the material of your tank top up, exposing your tits.

“There we go. Now I can see my girls.” He still doesn’t go any further than that, letting his hand go back to resting on your thigh. Not even so much as rubbing a thumb over your breast. He goes back to watching you move, fighting the urge to hold your tits for you while you bounce.

The muscles in your legs begin to twitch, but not from being close to your high. Your legs are exhausted, and your pace shows it. You’re getting slower, not going as consistently.

Carmy reaches the end of his cigarette, taking one last long drag. He grabs your face with his hand. His thumb on your chin opens up your lips. Carmen exhales the smoke into your mouth, expecting you to inhale it. You do exactly that, letting the smoke fill up your lungs before blowing it out in the space between the two of you.

Now fully satisfied, Carmy reaches over to stub out his cigarette on the ash tray sitting on the side table. Without offering a single word, Carmy digs his hands into both of your thighs and starts slamming his hips into yours. Sounds of skin against skin echo against the walls.

“Shit! Fuck, Carmy—“ you moan, not even trying to control your volume. “I can— I can feel you in my stomach, shit—“ You take one of your hands and press beneath your navel, feeling his cock as it thrusts rapidly into your soaking cunt. “Feels so good, Carm.” You’re blabbering at this point, high on the feeling of him inside you. Your orgasm draws close fast.

“Yeah you needed me so bad that you couldn’t get off without me? Is that it? My little girl needed some help?”

“Yes—“

“Then what do you say?” Carmen is nearing his own high, too. His pace grows sloppy.

“T-thank you— fuck— thank you, Carmy.”

“There’s my respectful good girl. Just needed a little bit of punishment to get her back.” He detaches a hand from your thigh, moving it to your aching clit. He rubs tight fast circles on the bud with a calloused thumb. “Go on, baby. Cum for me. Soak my cock.”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. Euphoria floods through your veins as Carmy fucks you through it. You collapse into his body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. The sounds of your moans and whimpers muffles in the skin of his neck. Your body shakes from pleasure.

Carmy removes his thumb from your clit, not wanting to overstimulate you. You had already been punished enough. His hand rests at the back of your head, cupping it gently. The gentleness of his hands starkly contrasts the way his hips sharply thrust into you.

“Atta girl. Just a bit more—“ he groans, offering you some praise. With a few more powerful thrusts of his hips, Carmy spills inside of you, filling you up with his cum. You both remain wordless in each others’ arms for a moment, trying to catch a breath. Carmy is the first to break the silence. “You happy now?” This time his voice has a hint of laugh to it.

“Mhm.” You kiss his neck. “Very happy. Thank you.”

“I think you know I’ll do anything you want at this point.” He laughs. “Now, can we go clean up and go to sleep? I’m even more exhausted now, baby.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #the bear #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #I’m actually really proud of this one #hopefully it doesn’t suck! #brain rot

[wlntrsldler]

Hiiiiii!!!! I love Apple Pie by Lizzy McAlpine!! Can I get Jamie Tartt to apple pie?

apple pie | jamie tartt

based on the song apple pie by lizzy mcalpine

description: jamie gets insecure sometimes, but having you with him helps.

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (f!reader she/her)

warnings: lots of kissing, self-doubt, insecurities, mention of jamie's dad

word count: 2631

ted lasso requests are open | main masterlist

When Jamie first got into a relationship with you, he knew that both of your busy schedules would pose a problem down the road. With his football career seemingly reaching new peaks every season and your acting career taking off after being cast in what is being called “the film that revived the dying genre of romantic comedies,” the amount of time you get to spend with each other decreased significantly since the start of your relationship. 

You first met Jamie halfway through his returning season at AFC Richmond. You met him at a birthday dinner party for a friend of a friend where you relentlessly teased him for his ridiculous, but outstanding performance, on Lust Conquers All. You had originally praised him for it when you were fully under the impression that he was putting on an act. You didn’t find out that he was just being his prick-ish self, albeit his younger prick-ish self, until about four months into your relationship when he embarrassedly admitted it to you. That’s how you found yourself rewatching the entire season together on his couch until 2 hours before Roy knocked on his door for his training session. 

At first, Jamie thought you were making fun of him. His insecurities would still peek in here and there and sometimes he couldn’t help but worry that you’d see him as nothing more than a dumb footballer like everyone else does. He quickly realized, though, that while you were losing your mind laughing at how he acted in the show, making fun of him was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Why’d ya wanna watch this shit anyways?” he grumbled, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “It’s just poopy. ‘M not even like that anymore.” 

“I know,” you sat up, pausing the show when you heard his voice crack. You knew the tone of Jamie’s voice when he was cracking jokes and when he was happy, and this voice wasn’t one or the other. You turned your body to face him, “I know you aren’t like this anymore, I just thought it would be funny.” 

“I dunno, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense to me.” 

“What doesn’t?” you questioned. “Why I want to watch it?” 

“Yeah,” Jamie replied. His eyes were looking at everything but at you. He was playing with the threads of the blanket loosely draped over his legs. He rubbed his nose with his balled-up fist. “Why does it matter how I was before you? I’m better now, yeah? Unless you don’t think so...” 

“Oh, love,” you grabbed his face, forcing him to look at you. You were so engrossed in the episode on the TV that you didn’t realize how uncomfortable Jamie was feeling about the whole situation. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention to how you were feeling about this. We can stop watching it.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He hummed, tugging on your hoodie to pull you closer to him. “I just don’t want you to see how I used to be and realize you don’t want to be with a prick like that, even if I have changed, you know? I don’t know… I just thought that with ya, I’d have a fresh start.” 

“Jamie Tartt, enough of that now,” You took over being the big spoon, which made Jamie nuzzle into your neck contently, “You have changed. You’re an amazing man and the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. I only wanted to watch this show because it’s such a shitty show that it’s nice to just unwind. When I watch this Jamie on the screen, my brain can’t even comprehend that it’s you.” 

“You don’t think I’m a prick anymore, yeah?” Jamie asked again, hoping that he’d get a confirmation, “Like you wouldn’t leave me over that?”

You’ve learned over the past few months things about Jamie– one of which is that he needs to be told positive things or else he’d spiral. The thing is, if you could go into his mind and turn off that control box that spews self-doubt and insecurities to him, you would do it in a heartbeat. But since you can’t, you were more than happy to shower him with love and adoration in hopes that your voice can drown the rest of them out. 

“Never,” you placed your lips on his in a soft kiss. “You’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to get rid of me.” 

“I’m working double overtime just so you’d keep me, love,” he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand reached for the remote to turn the TV off to leave you both in the glow of the floor lamp in his living room. 

“You don’t have to work hard for that.” 

Jamie had gotten used to having you around his flat. He would leave for 4 AM training with Roy with you on his bed, often naked, then return at around 6:30 AM to shower and join you back in bed for another hour before you woke up. He’d wake up for the second time that day with you drawing patterns on his chest and a soft smile on your face. He’d lean over and place a loving kiss on your lips and he’d feel prepared to start the day. 

You were filming a show in London for three months, which meant that for three months, this was Jamie’s life. In between projects, you stayed at his place. For two weeks after the wrap party, you came home to him, visited him at the facility, and went to all the team outings, home games, and away games with him. He was with you 24/7 and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He didn’t realize how he took it for granted until filming ended.

Three weeks ago, you flew to New York City to begin filming another movie. With training and games, Jamie hasn’t been able to take time off to visit you, and with filming just starting, you couldn’t fly back to Richmond either. 

Jamie was doing fine– as fine as someone can be when their daily routine was abruptly disrupted. He was proud of you. The premise of the movie seemed perfect for you and was a seamless continuation of the romantic comedy trend you were on. People were buzzing for your next project, especially after your last one was so well received. He was so proud of you…. But he also missed you. 

During the three weeks that you were gone, you and Jamie still texted each other constantly and FaceTimed everyday, despite the crazy time difference. He wanted to make it work, and so did you, so you did what you could to stay in touch. While not being able to hold you and kiss you for three weeks was killing Jamie, he was glad he was still able to spend time with you. Things didn’t get to Jamie until Jan Maas made an off-handed comment about it.

All of them were packing up after training, feeling extremely antsy with the Man City match on the horizon, Jamie especially. There were a lot of things on his mind, including the possibility of seeing his father, who he hadn’t seen since Wembley, and playing against his old team was always a trip. In short, he wasn’t feeling his best and the fact that you weren’t nearby made it worse. 

“Jamie, we have not seen Y/N in a while,” Sam noted, “Is everything okay with you two?” 

“She’s filming a movie in New York, bruv,” Isaac replied before Jamie could speak, “Right, Tartt?” 

Jamie nodded, putting his shirt over his head, “Yeah. She’ll be gone for a few months, at least.” 

“I do not know how you’re gonna survive, Jamie,” Jan Maas said. “You are so clingy when it comes to her. I don’t think you can make it all those months.” 

The rest of the team chuckled at Jan’s teasing tone, but Jamie furrowed his eyebrows in thought. Was he clingy? He frowned as he continued to put his things away. He picked up his phone from his cubby, smiling when he received a few messages from you while he was at training. As he was about to respond, Jan’s comment made him stop in his tracks. 

Maybe it would be best to let you have a night to yourself. You had a life outside of him and you deserve to be able to live it without having him cling to you all the time. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, slipping his phone in his back pocket, before walking out of the locker room to head to his place. 

When you woke up to no text from Jamie, you assumed that he was just worn out from training and didn’t have the energy to reply. You’ve seen the intense training he went through, so you wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But as the day went on and there was still no word from Jamie– you’d even checked the timezone clock on your phone to make sure you weren’t being unreasonable– you began to worry. FaceTime calls went unanswered and instead, you were met with the Apple automated response, “Sorry, can’t talk right now.” 

To: lover boy <3

“Hi, love. Got some exciting news, you free to chat? Xx” 

By the time you were boarding the plane to Manchester, Jamie still hadn’t texted you back. After begging the producers to give you a week off filming, they finally agreed. You asked for this week in particular, knowing that you wanted to be there for Jamie for the Man City match. There was a lot on the line for Jamie and you wanted to be there for him no matter what happened. 

The entire plane ride back to England was filled with dread and anxiety. It wasn’t like Jamie to not respond. Unless he was at a game, training, or sleeping, but even then he had a special ringtone for you that wakes him up whenever you called, he always replied to your messages as soon as possible. When you landed, everything that could go wrong went wrong. Your plane was stuck on the tarmac for an hour because there were problems with the gate. Your luggage got delayed which left you sitting at baggage claim for another 45 minutes. When you finally arrived at the hotel the team was staying at– shoutout to Ted for being yours and Jamie’s number one supporter and telling you where they were staying– Jamie was nowhere to be found. 

You dragged your luggage to Jamie’s room, plopping on the bed tiredly. You glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. 9:28 PM. Ted mentioned that there was a 10 PM curfew so you hoped that tonight was not one of the nights where Jamie decided to break the rules. Ted also mentioned that Jamie has not been himself lately, which did nothing to soothe your panic. You hopped in the shower to rinse yourself from the long day you’ve had. You did your night routine and dug into Jamie’s bag to retrieve his AFC Richmond hoodie. Before putting it on, you held it up to your nose, sighing as your senses were filled with Jamie. You missed him. 

It was 9:57 PM when you heard the door unlock. You were on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on social media, when you saw him. You sat up, shutting your phone off. He walked in with his head low. His shoulders were hunched over a bit, but he looked okay. He looked better than how Ted described him. 

He kicked off his shoes, before looking at you on his bed, startled. His eyes widened, first in fear that there was someone in his room, then in surprise that it was you in his room. His lips curved down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in sadness. 

“Baby,” you whispered, moving to the side of the bed to make room for him. 

Jamie knew that he needed to not be clingy. He didn’t want to bother you too much. He was trying to be cool. But when you called him “baby,” with that voice, in his hoodie on his bed, his resolve crumbled to pieces.

He ran to you, nearly tackling you off the bed when he engulfed you in his arms. He buried his face in your neck, a mix of your lotion and the cologne he sprays on his clothes surrounding him. You cradled the back of his head, mumbling how much you missed him into his shoulder. Jamie could cry. He hasn’t seen you in so long, but here you are now. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked when he finally pulled away from you. He couldn’t stray too far though. His arm was still wrapped around you while you cuddled into his side. “I thought you were in New York.” 

“Well, if you bothered to answer my texts,” you trailed off, faking a voice of sadness. You poked his side, “You would’ve seen that I had exciting news. The producers gave me a week off after begging them since I first got to New York and this week is perfect because I know tomorrow’s match is gonna be a lot for you. I wanted to be here for you, whatever the outcome is.” 

“Oh.” Jamie was speechless. Here he was ignoring you like a prick while you were planning to come back just to be here for him. He didn’t deserve you. 

“Yeah,” you continued, “If tomorrow we celebrate, I’ll be here making sure that you drink enough water so that your hangover the next day won’t be too much. If tomorrow we try to never think about it again, I’ll sit next to you on the bus in silence holding your hand and when we get home we can do the same thing.” 

Home. You were here and he felt like he was home. 

“I missed you so much,” Jamie sighed. He kissed you all over your face, giving your lips extra attention. “‘M sorry if I was bothering you by texting and calling so much over the last few weeks… I just missed you loads and I wanted to talk to you.” 

“Baby, you didn’t text and call me enough,” you played with his hair, running your fingers through the strands. “If it was possible, I would stay on a call with you all day, everyday. Can’t get enough of ya.” 

He smiled, his worries disappearing with every word you said, “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, I love you, Jamie Tartt.” You kissed him deeply. “Couldn’t get tired of you even after a million years. Now, catch me up! Tell me everything.” 

Jamie, feeling like himself again, began to tell you everything you missed over the last few weeks– meeting Sam’s father, meeting Ted’s mum, Roy and Keeley, and seeing his mum earlier that night, which is why he came home late. He talked about how a visit to Georgie and Simon helped lift his spirits, and how Georgie was gushing about you and asking him when you’ll come to visit again. 

Then he talked about his fears for tomorrow and everything that’s been piling up on him ever since you left. As he spoke, you rubbed his back comfortingly, a small reminder that you’ll always be here no matter what. 

Jamie knew that he still had a lot of work to do. He knew that his insecurities could get the best of him sometimes and it can cause him to push back on people who love and care about him, but he was trying. You believed in him and that’s all he needed.

#ted lasso fics #ted lasso #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x yn #jamie tartt oneshot #frances writes #frances song fics

[ohmtoff]

you made me think ab nerd nick too damn much its concerning. imagine jerking him off while he yaps ab his geeky stuff, stuttering and his words slurring when you squeeze around his tip

ANON…. youre actually my soulmate how did we think of the same thing (nsfw)

nerdy nick who’s far sighted so he regularly wears his glasses that make his eyes look bigger and just adorable. his wardrobe consists of graphic tees and hoodies that fit him awkwardly and his hair is most of the time disheveled.

nerdy nick whose budget goes to cosplay and comic con because those things are expensiveee and his brothers try their hardest to support him by helping him make the costumes (imagine nick unironically doing the anime hands thing around chris and matt and they try not to cringe LMFAOOOOO).

nerdy nick who yaps soooo much about his interests, from lord of the rings lore to his fav doctor from doctor who. i can just IMAGINE him making video essays complaining ab the new live action avatar series and how it doesnt hold up to the original series.

nerdy nick who’s the same sassy and witty guy as we know but he also puts that energy to defend his fav characters on the internet. best believe he has a stan account. many of his tattoos are dedicated to his comfort characters as well.

nerdy nick whose interests look innocent to others but behind closed doors he regularly reads and writes the most sheet gripping, back arching, toe curling smut about his fav fictional men. erwin from aot, thorin from the hobbit, ALL of jujutsu kaisen. he furiously stroked his dick to the thought of getting fucked dumb by nanami.

nerdy nick who acted normal and talks about regular stuff when he first met you but when he gets comfortable with you he immediately starts yapping. you think he’s just the most adorable thing when his eyes light up when talking about all his interests. you don’t even know what he’s talking about but your attention is hooked. nick, however, was used to people pretending to care about what he’s talking about so he stops himself.

“i’m sorry. ugh, i always talk too much, that was weird and boring”

“no, no, it’s fine. so… uruk-hais are bred between orcs and humans?”

nick wanted to suck your dick right then and there.

having sex with anime playing in the background was not rare between you two. one time, you both were watching an episode when you got distracted by how his tongue was peeking out with concentration. you noticed how fat his tongue was and how red his lips were. those same lips were wrapped around your cock not long after that. nick was gagging and moaning around it, his eyes bubbling up with tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as he jerked you off from the base. saliva would drip from his mouth, running down his chin as he struggled to take everything down. he was still wearing those same glasses, sliding down his nose from the sweat. he looks up at you with those big puppy eyes, tears running down his face. the sight makes you groan and shove your dick further into his throat. you thought he looked absolutely beautiful with cum streaks on his glasses.

nerdy nick who sometimes rambles too much and in these times you love teasing him. “come on, baby, tell me more,” you whispered to the back of his ear as he writhed and thrashed on your chest, pants gone and his swollen cock red and dripping as you squeezed the base. “time- time lords have two hearts, so,” he lets out a pathetic whine, “so the doctor never dies, he—mmnghh—they instead regenerate into a new body-AH-“ you squeeze and dug your thumb into his leaking tip. his chest heaves and he pants like a dog. “fu—uck, please, please, please. i wann- i wanna cum, oh please.” you think he deserves it so you quicken your strokes and let him cum. his mouth releasing unintelligible noises while those beautiful blue eyes go cross eyed.

nerdy nick who becomes your person and who you will go to endless comic cons with, watch a new series with, and who eventually will turn you into an even bigger nerd than he is😩🤞🏼

a/n: i wrote this without pause wtf

#nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic

[janeaustenbrandysmuggler]

The Hitchhiker (you can run...)

Apologies if someone has already pointed this out. I'm new to tumblr, and I'm still digging through all the amazing Good Omens metas!

Shax-in-disguise appearing and reappearing on the side of the road at the very beginning of The Hitchhiker felt really familiar to me, and I finally figured out why. I think we can add a Twilight Zone episode that's (conveniently) called "The Hitch-Hiker"* to the list of film and tv references we get in the season.

*I felt especially dumb when Google told me this episode literally has the same title as s2 ep4. In my defense, I don't know the names of any of the other Twilight Zone episodes I've seen, either.

Not sure you really need a spoiler alert for a 60+ year old tv episode, but I'll put a break in anyway. Go watch it if you can - it's properly creepy.

A brief summary: Nan Adams is on a road trip from Manhattan to Los Angeles. She's gotten as far as Pennsylvania, when her tire blows out and she runs off the road. The mechanic who comes out to put on her spare tire comments on how lucky she is to still be in one piece. (More on that in a minute.) As she follows the mechanic into town for a replacement tire, she sees a man in a hat hitchhiking on the side of the road and passes him by. She sees the man again at the service station after getting a new tire and mentions him to the mechanic, but the mechanic doesn't see him. Once she resumes her trip, she sees the hitchhiker on the side of the road again. And again. And again. And again. The farther she drives, the more she sees him, and the more frightened and paranoid she gets. At the height of her fear, she's convinced the hitchhiker is trying to kill her, and she attempts to run him over in order to make it all stop. She finally decides to pull over to a phone booth in Arizona and call her mother to try and ground herself back in reality, and we get one final big twist to end the story.

When I realized that hitchhiker!Shax appearing and reappearing in front of the Bentley reminded me of this episode, I decided to watch it again because I hadn't seen it in years. What do we hear almost right out of the gate?

So lucky! You could even say she dodged a bullet there. Oh wait...

(I think he says "Chalk up a win to the side of the Angel" here, but close enough.) Interestingly, "the side of the angels" really just means "the good guys" these days. In both these scenes, setting aside the fact that Aziraphale is actually an angel, it's used in the context of "you survived something that could have killed you."

One other thing I didn't know before is that the Twilight Zone episode is based on a radio play, also called "The Hitch-Hiker," written by Lucille Fletcher and first presented on The Orson Welles Show in... 1941. Probably just a fun coincidence, but really, why does it feel like all roads lead back to 1941?

As for the final creepy twist in Nan's story? Her mother isn't home when she calls. The woman who answers the phone tells Nan that her mother is in the hospital. She had a nervous breakdown when she found out her daughter had been killed in a car accident in Pennsylvania - caused when her tire blew out and she ran off the road. Nan goes numb and walks back to her car. She pulls down the visor to look at herself in the mirror, and she sees the hitchhiker sitting in the back seat. He says, "I believe you're going... my way?"

So there we go - a wink and a nod to a tv episode with the moral that you can't outrun your fate/Death, in a season that sure seems to have a lot of references to death in it. By the time Nan sees the hitchhiker for the first time, she's already dead, she just doesn't know it yet. She tries running, but it all catches up to her anyway. By the time Aziraphale sees the hitchhiker, Shax is just about ready to trigger the events that lead to where we are at the end of the season. The precious, peaceful, fragile existence of the last few years is already dead, and no matter how much Aziraphale tries to outrun that idea by acting like There's Nothing Wrong...

...it all catches up anyway.

I have a more nebulous set of thoughts about the "side of the angels" line being seen in the 1941 flashback, and if I can get them in any type of coherent order, I'll link to another post or put them here. Something about that line referencing a lucky escape that isn't so lucky after all for Nan Adams, and how 1941 so far looks like a series of narrowly averted catastrophes for Aziraphale and Crowley...and how it really feels like we haven't seen all of the 1941 story yet.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens analysis #good omens meta #good omens the hitchhiker #1941 good omens #aziraphale #shax

[courtingchaos]

A/N: This is a dumb little thing I wrote because I’m trying to claw my way back into writing. I’ve also been having a pretty rough go of it mentally and watching old Loony Toons is actually like, really fun. So just take this.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

No warnings, it’s just fluff, however:

18+ No Minors

In the top corner of a paystub:

Edward E. Munson.

“Edward E. Munson.” You repeat it under your breath the way Mel Blanc would and it makes you giggle.

Edward E. Munson, genius.

The man in question appears and leans on your desk, the elevated portion keeping him above your head.

“What are you teeheeing about?”

“Nothing.” You look at him quickly and glance down the same, his brown eyes brimming with mirth. “Just…the cartoons.” You point over his shoulder and he turns, his locks spilling down to hang over your line of sticky notes on the desks ledge. He watches for a moment while the Road Runner gets through the mural and when Mr. Coyote slams face first into it, Eddie snorts and tilts his head back towards you.

“I wouldn’t let that bird go, either.” He says out of the corner of his mouth and you giggle again. That earns you a smile from him, one of his big ones, all teeth and dimples. “See, what I’d do is create a screw up that he’d run into and then have the real trap at the end of that.”

IQ 207, super genius.

“I’m sure you could catch the Road Runner Ed, no problem.” You give him your own small smile and look back down at the time cards for the shop. His government name peaks out at you from under the stack of paystubs you were filing and you have to suppress another giggle. It wasn’t that funny, but having seen him move around the shop like a cartoon on occasion gave it some precedence.

“Oh yeah I’d catch him.” He leans back on the ledge, propped on one elbow to keep watching the episode. “Make a Sunday dinner out of him too.”

“Hey Eddie?”

“Hey whattie?” He answers from under the car he’s working on, peering up through the engine block to see you leaning over it with a smile.

“I’m taking lunch orders.” You wiggle the pencil and notepad so he can see the list. “I’m going to the diner, what do you want?”

He grins, only the briefest of glances at the way your chest presses up against the body of the car, and keeps screwing the nuts back in place nonchalantly. “I don’t know, do the fries come with the shake?” He peers up through the frame to see you frown and start to unfold the paper menu before you pause.

“Eddie?”

“What?” He asks innocently. From under the bumper he can see your toe tapping and he reaches his boot over to wiggle it against your ankle.

“For you, it’s an up charge.”

“Oh just for me?”

“Yeah it says right here ‘in the instance that one Eddie E. Munson orders a shake with fries and is making an innuendo, it’s an up charge of three dollars’.” You ‘read’ out loud and run your finger along pretend words. He laughs again and misses your grin when you turn to leave, tripping on his outstretched leg and shouting at him to keep his limbs secured.

He doesn’t get to his food until almost closing but he finds his fries bagged up in the microwave, ‘Eddie E. Coyote’ written in your hand across the folded over top. When he opens the fridge he doesn’t expect to see the styrofoam cup with the crudely drawn outline of a curvy lady and a strawberry shake contained within. His fingers stain the white cup but he keeps looking down at your little drawing while he picks up his station and waits for Wayne to finish his paperwork.

It’s a Friday morning before anyone else should be in, sun barely over the horizon, your time to get paperwork finished that the techs have conveniently forgotten throughout the week. You’re still sleepy, a little unaware, so you don’t realize the coffee pot already has coffee in it until you pick it up intending on filling it with water. You stare out of the big window in the office that opens into the shop and finally notice one of the bays open. A quick look at the clock on the wall and a snap of your wrist to check your watch and they’re both right, 6:30 AM. The whir of a pneumatic drill pulls you out into the shop, coffee pot still in hand.

“Hello?” You know it’s gotta be one of the guys but you still freeze in place when you catch movement behind an open hood, right until Eddie’s head pops up.

“There you are!” He yells over the hiss of the air compressor. “I was wondering when you showed up.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Like an hour, had some stuff to catch up on.” He rounds the front of the car with one hand tucked behind his back and the other held out in front, a clutch of papers in his fist. “I figured I could not be a piece of shit for once.”

You can see the invoice numbers along the top of one paper and your gaze goes soft. “Oh Eddie, you’re not-“

“Don’t excuse me, I’m bad with homework. Lifelong issue.” He shakes his fist for you to take the stack and when you both head back into the office he takes the coffee pot from you to pour your cup you’d left out. He points at your desk chair and sets your mug down next to your purse. “Sit.”

“This is just a present because I thought you’d like it.” He rolls his wrist out from behind himself, a little cylinder of tissue paper that he hands you.

“You got me a present?” You feel silly even saying it because why would Eddie do that? You’re just the front desk girl Wayne took on when he couldn’t handle his own paperwork anymore. The errand runner, the paperwork finisher, the sometimes maid when no one else remembered how to use a trash can.

“Not just any present.” Eddie shakes a finger at you admonishingly before he folds his arms over his chest and leans on the doorframe. “I got Wayne to part with a cup. That’s like…worse than battlefield surgery.” He laughs and gives you one of those big smiles that makes you feel shy. “In fact, I think he would have rather had his arm sawed off in the mud.”

You tuck your face down so you can maybe hide your stupid little smile, especially when you peel the tissue paper away to reveal a short glass with a cartoon coyote on it.

“Oh my god, I used to have one of these when I was a kid!” Your shocked laughter rings in the empty office and Eddie doubles down on his smile.

“See? Knew you’d like it more than him.”

He watches you tuck it up under the ledge next to the typewriter and finally leaves you alone to do your work. When Wayne comes in at 8 Eddie watches him as he leans in and you hold up your cup, big smile plastered on your face. He can hear Wayne laying it on thick but when he finally comes out in the shop he waves Eddie off when all he gets is a big grin.

“Well Ed, told you she’d like it.”

A terrible afternoon through and through. Half the shop lost power and three Semi’s sit unfinished while a very angry manager finally stomps out of the front door.

“Prick.” Eddie curses behind you while you unclench. You handled him fine, but having a grown man yell down at you for 30 straight minutes left you feeling anxious. “You okay?” Eddie lays his hand on your shoulder, careful to wipe his fingers off on his shop rag before brushing them over your sweater.

“Oh I’m fine, I just hope he knows he can go fuck himself tonight.” You shuffle the guys folder around and shove some receipts in there while Eddie laughs. “Come in here and yell at me like I’m the fucking power company.” You huff and yank open a middle drawer on the tall filing cabinet next to you, tossing the folder into the back.

“You wanna go out for a smoke?” Eddie holds up his pack and jerks his head towards the back door. When you don’t immediately get up he wiggles his eyebrows at you and pulls on your sleeve. “C’mooonnn.” He whines and you relent, turning the sign over on the front door for the lunch hours.

Out back is a row of crates and a bench seat taken out of an old Ford and Eddie presents the cracked leather to you like a throne. “Madam.” He flourishes and after you drop down onto it he hands you a cigarette, lighter already lit when the filter hits your lips.

“That guy was an ass.”

“Yeah well he can take it up with the county.” You make a vague jerk off motion and lay your head back against the wall.

“I wish acme stuff was real.” Eddie says, kicking a stray bolt around between his feet. “Put dynamite in his glovebox so he opens it and gets that banana peel face after.”

“Well you’re a loony toon, I’m sure you can figure that out.”

“Still haven’t caught that Road Runner yet.” He looks up from under his fringe and you don’t catch him staring. “Probably should do that first before I move on to explosives.”

Eddie is ready to call it quits and walk out on this job. Wayne is still hashing it out with the Semi guy, something about how he doesn’t owe the shop for anything, and Eddie is hanging around just in case. This guy keeps pointing fingers closer and closer to Wayne’s face and half the shop is just watching and waiting while Wayne remains calm as ever. Eddie knows you’re watching from the front desk, saw you overfill your mug when you got too caught up staring at this guy going purple. He wants to laugh but he knows that wouldn’t end well so he hides his mouth behind his fist and waits for this to blow over.

The yelling has quieted down but the snide remarks remain and Eddie catches your eye, your eyebrows raised high in question. He’s about to come in and tell you but he thinks of something funnier and grabs an old invoice to scribble on the back of it. He holds it up out of sight of the shop, just below his shoulders and you squint and laugh in silence behind the glass.

‘How about ending this cartoon before I hit?’

He grins at you while you turn away and hold up a finger for him to wait. He’s glued to the way your lip tucks into your teeth when you concentrate, your own scribbling happening before you whip the sign up against the window, a dull thud that only he seems to hear.

‘Road runners can’t read.’

He feels a slight drop in his stomach when you shrug dramatically, your lips forming around what he knows is a quiet ‘meep meep’.

Normally Eddie is in the shop Monday through Friday but it’s Wednesday and you’ve seen neither hide nor hair. Everyone’s been busy and you haven’t felt like interrupting Wayne and his welding so you sit alone in the office during your lunch, cartoons playing softly in the background. The book you’ve been trying to slog through is making you sleepy but the bell ringing on the front door snaps your head up. You could have sworn you’d locked it like normal. “Hey, sorry we’ll be-“

Eddie dangles his store key from his middle finger and smiles at you. “Is Wayne in?” He sounds breathless, asks you that even though he’s already bounding into the shop and yelling for his Uncle. Funnily enough you couldn’t have answered him anyways, struck dumb by his new attire.

You’ve only ever seen him in his coveralls and his stained undershirts but the Eddie that just breezed past you is a new creature. Hair down and washed, fluffy waves bouncing behind him where you can see him jogging across the shop floor. His wallet chain clinks against tight light wash jeans that show off most of his thighs, dark ink showing through the white threads keeping the shredded pant legs together. You’re afraid if anyone looks at you they’ll know you’re staring dead at the slice of his midriff shown off under his cropped black tee, but you can’t peel your eyes away. He’s tanner than you expected and when he makes a big gesture over his head it pulls that shirt up and you make a small sound to yourself and the four walls. His shoulders roll under his laughter and you catch the glint of the overhead lights on his rings. He’s in a brand new costume and you’re feeling insane watching him through the thick glass like you were ogling a shark at the aquarium.

You stare until he starts to turn back towards the office, gaze snapping down the worlds most boring book. His boots fall heavy and that chain clinks into the metal door when he pushes it open with his hip. You expect him to dip right back out to the parking lot but his movement has come to halt beside you and you slide your eyes over to see the bottom half of him, hands on his hips like he’s waiting for you to look. You gather whatever will you have left and take a deep breath before putting on your brave face.

“Don’t you look nice.”

“Oh you think so?” He tilts his head and does a half turn so you get a good side view.

“Mhm.”

“I’ve got a show tonight.”

You forgot he was in a band and shake your head. “I forgot about that. Is it in Indy?”

He nods and his smile lights up the room when he talks about the stage they’ve got. It’s a real venue not just a bar and they’re openers for another local band but his drummer has been talking to other guys and he thinks they’ve sold at least 150 tickets and he’s just nervous now because they’ve never played for a crowd bigger than 50.

You’re listening but you’re also watching this chain dangle from his shirt more and more until a red pick falls out and hangs over the edge of your desk.

“Oh you guys are gonna do fine.” You reach over and pat his forearm, a gentle touch that you play again over in your mind when you notice how soft his skin is. “Seriously! I’m sad I’m missing it.” You pout a little to get your point across and Eddie’s face goes through a series of scrunches before he finally speaks.

“I didn’t even think about asking if you’d be into that.”

“That’s okay! Don’t feel like you have to invite me.” Your neck is hot from embarrassment and you hope he doesn’t think you’re trying to invite yourself along.

“No it’s not-“ He glances at the clock on the wall and sighs. “I’d lo-it’d be cool if you came, but I just need to remember to tell you when.” He says lamely. You watch him seem to struggle with leaving so you give him a break and make a shooing motion towards the door.

“Go catch that road runner, genius.”

For the next two weeks Eddie talks about this show. He tells everyone everything but you specifically some stories over and over. He talks about the actual real photographer that was there, and he talks about the venue and he talks about the girls.

“I’ve never seen so many women going crazy for a man from Indianapolis.” He shakes his head, a blank look on his face while you yet again stare holes through the papers in front of you. There’s no reason to be jealous you remind yourself, because there’s nothing there. Barely a friendship built off of shared chuckling at cartoons most days, but he brings up these bleached blondes and their corsets and you sigh at your small town outfits.

“I mean, it’s the attention really. That’s what’s exciting.” He says quietly over his sandwich, a sandwich that you made for him in a weaker early morning moment.

“You do have a pretty big personality.”

He winces a little and waves his food at you. “You remember how it was in high school. I didn’t get a lot of that attention.”

“I barely remember you, that’s when you got sick right? When we had that big earthquake.” You know it was his third time but then he’d been missing for almost two months and then suddenly was a graduate. He stills for a moment before he flashes you a smile.

“Yeah I forget about that sometimes.”

There’s quiet between you two while you mark in the ledger and Eddie seems to stare at the side of your head for too long. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” His half finished sandwich stays forgotten clasped between his hands. “Like, about those girls. At the concert.”

You don’t look at him when you frown deeply and shake your head at the work you’re so intent on. So concentrated on that you’ve forgotten how to add ten and two together while the jealousy slithers in. “I don’t think anything about it Ed.” The TV in the lobby shows you coyote hovering in the air and then plummeting off a cliff for miles and you can definitely relate to that right at this moment.

“No, I mean I don’t want you to think-“

“Eddie, it’s fine.” You do look up then, wide eyes imploring him to shut the fuck up. “One night stands aren’t gonna ruin my opinion of you, I promise.”

“Did you ask?” Wayne doesn’t even look up from his coffee when he senses Eddie in the doorway.

“No.” Eddie sighs and droops like a wilting lily against the door handle. “I got my foot caught in my mouth, as usual.”

“Mm.” Wayne takes an obnoxiously loud sip and Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “I suggest you fix that then, I can’t take much more of your cartoon jokes. It’s too cute.” He shakes his head like he’s actually disgusted but Eddie knows, Eddie’s heard it all since the concert. Had heard about you timidly asking about his band and then when Wayne mentioned the board games it’d turned into a three hour conversation that his Uncle had regaled him with.

“She’s probably feeling a little hurt, son. You’ve talked about the groupies a lot.”

“I know! I keep trying to not bring them up but they were everywhere.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Oh woe is you.” He lets Eddie rot around his bench until he actually needs to get some work done and he shoos Eddie off to his own project.

Most of the shop is empty by 7 but you can still see Wayne’s lights on at his workstation so you know Eddie is probably still floating around. You’d been kind of avoiding him since lunch, still not ready to talk about whatever it was he was trying to talk to you about. You’ve got everything filed and piled for the morning when you hear a soft tap on the window into the shop, Eddie’s forehead pressed to the glass.

“It’s unlocked.” You say loudly, gesturing at the door. He just shakes his head and holds up a piece of paper he’s written on in grease pen.

‘Magnus Stultus’ with an arrow drawn to point at himself. He watches your face scrunch in confusion and he turns the paper to scribble again quickly ‘Big Idiot’.

Edward E. Munson, certified genius.

You think about having this whole conversation in signs is a fun idea in theory, but you open the door slowly anyways and lean your head around to look at him. “Big idiot?”

“Yeah. Huge.” He rolls his forehead so he can see you clearly. “I was trying to ask you something earlier and I didn’t.”

You think about lunch and try to remember any questions asked of you and all you can see is the glaring green neon of your jealousy. “Yeah? What do you need?”

He breathes deeply against the glass and leaves a big patch of fog before finally lifting his head. “I was trying to say I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about them because I wasn’t interested. I was trying to say I’d wished you’d have been able to be there.”

“Oh.” That definitely sounded better with the context and you’d love to go and see him play, if nothing else to see him in his crop top again.

He can tell you haven’t realized yet and he finally just comes out and says it. “I’d like to ask you if you’d like to go to the next show. With me…together.”

“Oh.” You smile behind the thumb nail you’re chewing on. Everything shifts again for you and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“If you’re laughing at me, I understand, but could I at least walk away first if that’s the case.”

“I’m not laughing at you!” You finally walk over to him so you can lightly tap his shoulder with a mock punch. “I’d love to.”

“We’ve got another show next week but it’s on Friday.”

“Oh now that’s when I get a lot of work done so I’ll have to ask my boss first.”

From across the shop Wayne yells ‘yes!’ at you before you finish your sentence and Eddie looks like he’s turning into a strawberry.

“So do I also need to wear a crop top or is that just a you specific thing?” You try to be cute to break the tension and give Eddie a smirk but the exaggerated up and down he gives you makes you feel shy again.

“Did you like that outfit?” He gives you a little satisfied grin. You roll your eyes at him and nod slightly, another push at his shoulder when he clicks his tongue and gives you a terrible wink.

“I’ll see what I can dig out for you.”

“Oh you do that.”

#Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Fem Reader #My Work #My Fic

[raisedbythetv89]

No, but like…FAMOUSLY not just in Buffy, but every universe that has spells and magic, real love CANNOT be manufactured or duplicated by magic. Only twisted obsession/infatuation like what we see in Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.

But in “Something Blue” Buffy literally says once the spell is over and she’s talking to Willow “I loved him, we were betrothed” in a spell whose specifications had only to do with marriage which would only change them from being enemies to allies, which then allowed all their suppressed and ignored feelings to come to the surface that they could NOT act on before when the other person was supposed to bring about their death.

And I’m not saying full deep romantic season 7 and beyond love but they clearly CARE about each other and are extremely attracted to each other, in lust if you will…and must have been for a while. Giving SO MUCH credence to neither of them ever succeeding at killing each other because deep down they genuinely never wanted to. (yeah yeah plot armor but so much of the time when one of them got away it was really WAY too easy like they could have at least made it so both of them were always just BARELY getting away by the skin of their teeth instead of how many times one of them really just lets the other go after exchanging a few punches like 😹 they weren’t even TRYING after a while and to me “Something Blue” proves it’s because they do not want to kill each other because they are crushing SO HARD. Because also in season 2 when they make the truce literally FIVE MINUTES LATER Buffy leaves Spike alone with her mother while she’s on the phone. The amount of trust that demonstrates is actually insane especially when you combine it with the fact that Buffy doesn’t do a disinvite spell after he leaves town OR comes back in season 3 & 4. And plot armor or not, them never killing each other becomes part of the lore and informs the motivation of the characters because that’s just how fiction works! 🤷🏼‍♀️)

I mean just look at these two love sick idiots

I MEAN….Buffy’s face when her immortal and extremely durable vampire just gets tossed across the room?? She goes into slayer overdrive, swiftly taking care of the two demons she was fighting to run over and check on him exactly like she does so many times in season 7 because that’s her vampire!!!

We see them so happy and in love - literally the happiest we’ve ever seen Buffy and then the show tries to tell us “it wasn’t even nice” because what? They bickered?? You mean they actually SAID what was on their minds and talked about it and then comforted the other when they were sad instead of bottling it all up or being evasive of topics that would cause fights and Buffy would tell Spike lovingly to shut up when he was being dumb??? OH NO THE HORROR!!

And what really is the cherry on top for me is the “wind beneath my wings” bit because Buffy blames the spell while her body language and face clearly says it was NOT the spell, that was all Buffy. Which opens the door for us to question just how much was what we saw because of the spell’s influence vs the real Spike and Buffy just completely uninhibited by their status of an engaged couple???

Especially when this supposed engagement to a “bad boy” who was helpful to her watcher, extremely caring and loving towards her in front of all her friends and when xander says something mean spike is SO HURT and he’s like “that’s it! You’re off the usher list!” Like oh yes THE BIG BAD INDEED 💀 but Buffy claims being engaged to a Spike “gets her over her bad boy thing because it wasn’t even nice” ….. GURL you are running for the hills to seemingly “normal” captain cardboard because you LOVED being engaged to the slayer of slayers and that scared the absolute shit out of you and you were like I need to do something to convince myself I’m normal and not the kind of girl who would be into Spike IMMEDIATELY 💀 and then avoids Spike for the next several episodes while Spike is always asking where she is for Buffy to achieve maximum avoidant/suppression of feelings possible 😹😹😹

And the way Spike NEVER teases her about it afterwards like he did with the “wind beneath my wings” bit at the end of the episode to me is so telling of the importance it held for him too that he never used everything he must have learned about her at that time or never even taunted Riley about the fact that the Slayer was all over him when her and Riley had first started dating because let’s be honest that would be SUCH a Spike thing to do. Like???? They have been so into and conflicted about each other for a LONGGG time and I honestly cannot be convinced otherwise 😹

#they’re actually madly in love your honor #spuffy #something blue #spike and buffy

[katshelluvacritic]

Not sure if you've seen the finale of the show yet because I'd love to hear your thoughts on how absolutely useless Charlie was once again

I’ve pretty much all the eps for season 1 so you don’t have worry about the spoilers.

As for the ep, I’mma just immediately rip the bandaid off and say that I had to watch it again to remember what happened, yet my brain is still kinda processing it again so I’mma type this to the best of my ability and if I do miss some parts I do apologize.

To start off with one of the things I didn’t like that included Charlie (mostly a personal nitpick) was her “battle fit” (if you could even call it that)

I feel like it should be self explanatory but I’ll explain anyway; for one, the fact that Charlie wearing what I like to call “the evil star butterfly cosplay” just doesn’t make sense to me. Like even though I don’t like Vicky’s fit either, at least she’s wearing something that could cover her skin to lessen the risk of cuts and injuries.

Charlie however is not only wearing a dress but also HIGH HEELS, which realistically would prob have her dead from the spot because for one, you can’t run in heels and two, like I said before she’s at higher risk to be injured compared to Vicky.

Like I’m honestly shocked that she only got a few rips from her clothing and a few bruises, like I get she’s the princess of hell but damage is still damage.

Not only that since Charlie is a princess then, wouldn’t she have access to wear royal armor??? Assuming she did (because there’s gotta be a reason to where she got that shield from), why didn’t she just wear that???? I feel like it would’ve been the most logical thing to wear since after all, YOUR GOING TO WAR AGAINST DEMONS.

Also speaking of the shield, why does she only have a shield and nothing else? You would think that since she’s the princess of hell she’d have some sort of weaponry but no.

She just guards herself a shield while occasionally throwing up magical fireworks like if that’s gonna do anything. Like, I get all niffty did most of the time was stab already dead angels before she killed adam, but at least she actually tried to do some damage compared to Charlie.

And then Razzle and Dazzle.

Listen, I can understand her not being able to save sir pentious because she was trying to protect Vicky and a lot of stuff was going on but why did she summon them? Isn’t she the daughter of lucifer? Wouldn’t she have transforming powers or something to get up there

I mean we’re shown in this gif that he can transform into different animals as he so pleases and can EVEN GROW WINGS.

Wouldn’t Charlie technically have those abilities? And even if she doesn’t have those abilities, these fuckers have guns and cannons with them that could shoot/blast Adam down.

Also gotta love the fact Charlie just stays on the roof of the hotel and watches the Lucifer and Adam fight happen UNTIL ADAM RAY BEAMS THE HOTEL IN HALF, ONLY FOR HER TO BE SAVED BY LUCIFER was so dumb. Women do SOMETHING WHY WERE YOU JUST STANDING THERE????

then like the ending. Omg the ending…

“Omg guys I lost sir p and the hotel guys, I failed” PENDEJA. YOU DID JUST DICK ALL DURING THAT WAR OTHER THAN WAVE SOME SHIELD AROUND WITH SOME FIREWORKS. CRY HARDER. BOO HOO I GUESS.

And I just gotta say, I doesn’t entirely include Charlie but like these parts of the lyrics

What???? Tf you mean redemption may take a while???? We’re still going with that??? After the war against heaven you guys just had??? Did Charlie forget what happened in episode 6, where like there was some shit about heaven being a lie and this evil place???? Why are you guys still trying to redeem sinners when YOU Charlie, realized heaven is evil???

But don’t worry, they rebuild the hotel guys! They can live happy ever after right?

Even though like… let me check my notes…. Oh right! Angel is still stuck with valentino, husk’s soul is still taken away by alastor! Oh yeah, I guess viv forgot about that part I guess.

I know I’ve already said this to friends of mine but ngl this episode especially just reminded of this one page from sonichu where Chris and his chars execute a guy in an electric chair but make it viv’s characters and Adam/heaven.

But uh, yeah. I don’t like Charlie, I don’t like this episode, I don’t like this series. I don’t know anymore.

#hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel charlie #Kat’s ask’s #like seriously who thought this was a good episode besides viv??? #this is so bad

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

That was it.

(a new post? it's been months, bro!)

What -- Daryl had a dream featuring You. It's thrown him a little, ngl.

When -- the first day Daryl is bedridden following his two falling trips down the ridge in the episode Chupacabra. In the Slowpoke Series, it's a few hours after Redemption Arcs, which takes place the morning after Thank you, angel...

Who's in this one? -- Daryl, You, Carl, Lori

Perspective -- POV 3rd person Daryl

Relationships -- slow burn, currently platonic-but-confused Daryl x equally oblivious Reader

Pronouns - she/her

TWs -- some language, and reference to Daryl's childhood neglect, and ghastly screenshots with poor editing XD

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

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

Her knock was recognizable and he got a rush in his stomach when he knew she was there. Three or four knocks, a pause, then one or two more knocks with some kind of greeting. This time, is was: “Daryl, you up for visitors?”

Was he ‘up for visitors?’

Ain’t like he’s some old dude in a nursing home, why would—oh shit, did this mean they found Sophia? Was Sophia the visitor?? “What is it?”

“It’s Carl’s first field trip out of bed other than for the toilet.”

“Y/N,” came Carl’s groan through the shut door.

“Carl,” she teased back back in the same tone of voice. “Mr. Dixon’s in the same boat, nerd, no leavin’ bed excepting for the facilities.”

Speaking for himself, the kid finally said, “I wanted to go see you first, Mr. Dixon.”

“Just—come in already,” Daryl grunted. He'd already tugged his bedsheets as high as they'd go, he was ready as he could get.

The knob turned, and as the two of them slowly walked in. He made himself relax when the nerves hit him at seeing Y/N.

It's stupid. His dumb ass started getting nervous around her this morning. Nervous around Y/N, of all the people here!

Daryl noticed Lori hovering by the doorway while Y/N and Carl walked in. She explained, “We don’t want to crowd you like yesterday. And we won’t stay too long, Y/N, Maggie and I will be going out for another sweep of our grid.”

The boy had more color than he did the other day when Daryl went to see him, which was good.

"The head wrap stuff they gave you looks cool," the kid told him. "I'm glad you didn't get hurt worse than you were. I heard you got hurt pretty bad." Slowly, Carl made his way to Daryl’s bedside and seemed beat doing it. “I would go out to help search today if I could. I was the only one of us who—well, other than you—who hasn’t gone out looking today. Beth’s older sister and Jimmy and his mom went, too.”

“Well, Mags came with us,” Y/N filled in. “Jimmy looked around the property and its perimeter only, but that’s because he got in trouble yesterday for joinin’ without permission. His mama searched with him to keep the peace.”

As the news hovered, rolled over him, then sunk in, it felt to Daryl as if were making him sink deeper into the mattress where he lay bandaged, bruised, and not much use to anyone.

He’d nearly died trying to find that little girl yesterday, found her doll. And after just about everyone went out searching today, and all them people came back with zip.

Daryl hated feeling helpless, and now he felt helpless, annoyed and angry.

Really, they all went out searching, and somehow all came back with nothing?

Carl kept chatting to him, but to his credit, Daryl didn’t snarl at him to shut up.

“I would’ve wanted to go to target practice, too. Did you know Mr. Douglas knows how to use guns? He told me he was an instructor, he’d started learning way a long time ago after something bad happened to this guy named Ronny King.”

“Rodney,” his ma corrected softly.

“I want to learn how to use a gun. How old were you when you learned, Mr. Dixon?”

Lori and Y/N reacted to the question in their own ways.

Y/N peeked at Lori and it looked like she was shrinking into her neck like a turtle as she walked to the window to get the stool for Carl to sit on.

Lori saw, shook her head and took it from Y/N’s hands, citing, “Let me, honey.” She placed it behind her son, then told him sternly, “You were just shot. Now’s not the time to discuss you using a gun.”

“But Mo—”

“We can talk about that with Dad later, okay, bud?”

“Y/N started learning to shoot when she was 8.”

That made Daryl blink, and it distracted him from his annoyance. His square, chick friend learned about using guns when she was 8?

Y/N gave her nephew a warning stare. “I learned because my own mama in our own circumstances made a decision for me that she determined would help keep me safe, the same way your mama’s makin’ one for you.”

He jut out his chin a little. “I would be safer with one. And I thought Shane taught you?”

“S-Sometimes babysitting me meant us goin’ to the range,” she allowed, eyeing Lori for help.

“Carl,” his ma told him, and with a look firm enough to make a nun cower. “That’s enough interrogating your aunt. We will talk about this with Dad when you’re able to leave bed for more than a few yards.”

“Okay,” the kid apologized, head lowering. “Sorry Mom, sorry Y/N.”

There were about three seconds of silence, tops, when the boy next asked Daryl, “Do you still think Sophia’s alive?”

Y/N froze, Lori tilted her head and looked Daryl in the eye warily.

As for Carl himself, he at least seemed hopeful. “If you could stay okay for nine days when you were a kid, Sophia can stay okay for five.”

Y/N’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. He'd told her the other day about it, then decided Carl should know to keep his spirits up.

Lori, who knew nothing about this, looked alarmed. “You went missing for nine days as a child, Daryl?” she repeated.

Daryl nodded, getting dizzy when he did. Wasn’t no big secret, just some dumb mistake he made when he was little. He'd figured that Carl staying hopeful and expecting people to find Sophia would keep the rest of the people here searching.

Y/N already knew about Daryl’s little nine-day accident, and Andrea; might as well let Lori in on it if it meant more people wouldn’t give up on Sophia.

“Yeah, nine days. Was perfectly fine, and that was with me bein’ nowhere near as sharp as Sophia, and without miles of farmhouses and shit around.” Daryl figured exaggerating might help Carl feel happy, so he added, “I was dumber than a post, and even I got away with only an itchy ass from using poison oak as toilet paper.”

It did make the kid smile, but then Carl whispered as if he was nervous, “Quarter.”

Y/N wasn’t nervous at all. “Two of ’em.”

Oh, right. Daryl had forgotten about the no-cuss-around-kids rule.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” is how Lori responded quietly to Daryl, then to his relief, she changed the subject back to asking Y/N how target practice went.

“Lore, did you know Teddy was good with guns?” Y/N shared. “I’d had zero idea.”

“He and Shane talked about being instructors on one of the first nights at the quarry.”

“Man, I missed that whole conversation.”

Lori smiled and began to fix the extra blanket that was crumpled on the side of Daryl’s bed.

Daryl almost missed what was being said because he was distracted by how casually nice that was. Damned thoughtful.

It was that moment when he noticed how he’d grown pretty okay with shooting the shit with these people. Wouldn’t seek it out, probably, but he wasn’t crawling out of his skin, neither. He really liked that the kid wanted to see him, too. It helped him feel like he wasn’t as big an asshole as he felt.

“You, Amy and Glenn were busy playing ‘I never’, if I’m remembering it.” Lori spread blanket out at the foot of the bed and folded it in an accordion-type way. “Either that night or the—no, sorry, it was the night everyone started talking about Bigfoot, the kids were sitting around you three. That was one of the first nights, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, right! We used up all the Tapatío, and this guy mentioned his chupacabra.” Y/N stuck the tip of her tongue out and lightly bit it, grinning big.

“Luis and me got so freaked out that night!” Carl joined in, suddenly as energetic as a little bunny-rabbit. “His older cousin told him all about Okefenokee Swamp, and, and the gators and the Pig Man and the Thing!”

“Your Aunt Evie and I camped with Grammy and Grandad at Okefenokee lots of times when I was a girl,” Lori told them both with a smile in her eyes. “Never saw the Pig Man or the Swamp Thing.”

“But they saw her,” Y/N mouthed to Carl. “Thank God we lived more upstate.”

That, Daryl could agree with, he even made a hum.

He was from way up north, close to the Tennessee border. But with this group that he’d stuck with for who-knows-why, to get to Fort Benning they’d driven far enough southwest that they was basically in Alabama.

“Yeah, you’re from further north, too, right?” Y/N sighed. “I’m so darn homesick, man. We’re just about on the fall line now, aren’t we? Driving to the city was one thing, close enough to home, but the roundabout, southwest mess we made trying to get to stupid Fort Benning was—w-we’re basically in Alabama!”

…His thoughts exactly.

“We’re further from Lake Lanier down here, though,” Carl said. Sounded like he was both trying to cheer her up and rib her. Inside joke most likely, Daryl guessed.

Y/N shivered at the name but couldn’t stop herself from breaking into a smirk, which made Carl crack up. After making a face at him, she looked at Daryl. “Dude, you’d have had a good time at practice.” Her smile grew and she leaned toward him. “As soon as it was time to try hittin’ the targets, Jimmy tried to shoot his pistol sideways.”

“What, all gangster?” he grunted back, glad that he wasn’t alone with her again. He liked didn’t mind being alone with her, but he obviously got smacked in the head a little too hard yesterday, seeing as he felt all nervous around her now. Really nervous. Like, so goddamned nervous, man, it’s good the boy and Lori are here, otherwise he’d be barely able to look her in the eyes.

Give it a day or two, he’d be fine.

“Teddy thinks Jimmy will have to undo Hollywood and video game gun stuff the next couple lessons.” She scrunched her nose, and wondered out loud, “Don’t know why that’s what they show in movies so often, that’s irresponsible firearm use. Oh! But the angled aim I guess is needed when one’s using a riot shield, right?”

His mouth lifted into a grin. Y/N could be such a square.

With that, she yawned and leaned on the side of the bed, causing it to dip down slightly. Daryl’s heart did a funny jolting type thing when she did, he inhaled too quickly as a result, which hurt his stiched side and bruised or broken ribs, so he then winced as a result of that.

“How long do we have ’til we head out again, Lore? I’m hittin’ my limit. Looks like Carl’s crashing, too, you doing okay, baby?”

The conversation that followed didn’t reach his head, Daryl was too distracted. The, um, the movement of the bed dipping as Y/N relaxed and reached back to massage her shoulder caused the memories from last night and the dream that followed to whoosh back to Daryl even harder.

His heartbeat did that funny thing again. And the helpless feeling he’d had, with its anger and annoyance, whittled away bit by bit.

A weird sensation replaced it.

He wasn’t sure that it was, but it felt like it was pressing him even further into the mattress.

So, the dream he had last night: Y/N was…laying down with him.

Nothing was going on, her arm was simply wrapped around him and he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. He remembers pressing his mouth to her head for a second, then she reached her hand to brush it across his temple or whatever, and they just laid there. That was it.

Really, that was it, the whole dream, nothing else went on. And he relieved but also...disappointed when he first woke up, saw the bed empty beside him, and figured out it was just a dream, ain’t that bullshit? Then he listened to Y/N's breathing where she lay on the air mattress and couldn't fall back asleep for what felt like a while.

He was all screwed up, wasn't he?

Granted, two days ago, her shirt had been soaked after they’d got caught in the storm and the outline of everything was clear as damn day. Like, sure, he’d turned his eyes away, but he’d still seen it and liked it! Then, yesterday during their argument when they’d suddenly been standing all close, he’d randomly imagined gripping her waist and crashing his mouth against hers before cupping her face so he could see if her cheeks were as soft as they looked, like what the in the balls was his deal? He ain’t mature enough to be friends with a chick or something? It’s never been a problem before, he used to barely even notice or care when he thought someone looked nice.

Her calling him all them pet names yesterday was enough, but, like, what was last night?

She literally massaged him. Who does that?

The massage had felt as if there were an angel, don’t get him wrong, he’d been in so much pain. But being touched so gently but so…close, and right on his bare skin, it made him feel something similar to scared.

It wasn’t ‘scary’ in that sense, that’s not it, it felt…weird. Again, he didn’t know how to phrase it.

Worse still was that he thinks he accidentally called Y/N “angel.”

Out loud.

He still ain’t sure, his sleep was too disjointed to tell if he was awake or not, but — she’d started massaging his feet, he knew that much! His feet had hurt so bad that he’d almost cried again when she’d started to rub them because it was just such relief.

Fast forwarding to this morning, when he’d made his managed to power his way all by himself out of bed (oh, it hurt like a bitch) and out of his room to find the pisser, of course the first thing he saw when he opened the door was Y/N, all sleepy-eyed, messy-haired, and wrapped in a blanket like he was.

And, of course, the first thing she did was help him walk by putting her good arm around his back. He could feel her warmth and heartbeat beside his chest again, and when he turned his head, his mouth collided with her head. Kinda hurt. And she smelled good.

But all that sent the dream he’d had, the one where she was laying next to him, crashing back all at once.

Plus the fear that she’d see him in his boxers again and/or notice how his morning wood (ain’t his fault, he’d only just woken up and he had to take a whiz real bad!) was the only thing pinging through his mind as she walked him to the toilet.

Then when her brother dropped off some of his stuff from his tent, he had a sneaking suspicion it was Y/N who’d been the one to gather it up. Mainly because she’d been the one who promised him someone would bring him some things, but also because nail clippers and a toothbrush were on top of the pile.

He then got the dumb idea in his head to be embarrassed at how his tent wasn’t real clean.

The past four days were batshit crazy; getting all nervous around a chick — probably the only person he truly feels okay with around here — is the stupidest damn thing. Still, he never had a person he felt so damn comfortable with other than Uncle Jesse, his little cousin, Merle, and his old lady neighbor from when he was a kid.

So much happened with Y/N the past few days. It was like they’d been stripped and beaten together, but got back home in one piece. He even hallucinated her talking to him when he’d fallen down the ridge. And that’s not even bringing up how he’d been chill with her seeing his scars yesterday, which was only after he okayed Dr. Farmer literally teaching her how do literal goddamn stitches on him!

Almost like yesterday, Daryl could imagine the way Merle would bust his balls. “I can’t tell if you’re actin’ like a little boy clinging to the kid who was nice to ’em on the jungle gym, or a clueless virgin nervous around the girl who’ll look him in the eyes long enough.”

Lucky for him, Carl wondered out loud: “Maybe Jimmy wanted to practice shooting sideways,” so Daryl was able to shut his mind up.

Next, Carl, who definitely looked ready to hit the sack, started miming holding a gun and aiming it to the side (as opposed to shooting it forward, just cocked to the side like Jimmy had, according to Y/N).

“No, ya nerd, like this,” Y/N snorted, and held out her good arm as if she were aiming a gun forward, then twisted her wrist sideways.

“Oh, the cool way to shoot!”

“Nooo.”

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

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-> Masterlist link here <-

and our teeny tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338 @its-freaking-bats​​​​ @whistlesalot​​​​ @buffy-the-assbutt-slayer​​​​  @dreamingaboutthewonderland @kwazii-kat​ @darylsmavis​​​​​  @outlanderhornet22​​​​​ @battinsonrobs @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @multiifandomhoe @writingmybeloved @boomergirl123 @iheartathena0 @moonliight-luv @suniloli @supernaturalgirl02 @cnake-garden @daryldixmedown @sophehe @crashlyrose @virgo-sunflower920 @jennythe @theficbaker @vampireautism @rosetta196 @wifeof-barnes

(inbox is open if you would like on or off the taglist, slowpokes. Please don’t feel bad or nervous if you don’t want to be tagged anymore, just let me know in the inbox! We’re all friends here and your comfort level matters)  

#twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #slow burn #canon compliant #carl grimes #lori grimes #the Slowpoke Series #POV Daryl Dixon

[ratnix]

As a fan of both the CBS and the BBC version, I'd like to spend a moment and appreciate both of them and talk about some things that I like, enjoy and appreciate about each version and some things that I think one version does better than the other without trying to bring the other down💚

- One thing I appreciate about the BBC version is the non-romantic relationship between the ghosts. As an aroace, it always bugged me how the CBS ghosts fell in love so quickly and it just seemed...forced. Isaac and Nigel have to be the only CBS couple that actually feels like a couple while the rest are just...there. Thor and Flower, sure, maybe I can understand this one too but Trevor and Hetty and Pete and Alberta (not a couple but Pete has a crush on her) are just dumb and pointless. On the other hand, you can feel the platonical relationship between the BBC ghosts -not saying that the CBS ghosts aren't good friends, but the BBC ghosts feel like they've spent an eternity with one another. The BBC ghosts work better as a group while the CBS ghosts work better as individuals

- I really like Jay's relationship with the ghosts. Where Mike is "oh ghosts", Jay is "oh ghosts☺️". Calling them "invisible friends", asking if Hetty's okay after she left his body, proposing that Sam should help Thor with his nightmares. He's literally Pete's bff! Wanting to play D&D with him, both of them making references to things they both enjoy. I mean, Jay's first instinct when he thought he could see ghosts was to hug Pete

- I actually don't have an issue with the CBS version revealing the ghosts' death soon. I mean, it's not even soon. It made sense that Flower would be the first ghost in the first minutes to reveal her death because she's Flower. Even in the BBC version, from the first episodes we can get an idea on how Julian died because of the no pants and and how Fanny died from screaming when falling from the window. Season 3 hasn't come out and we still don't know how Hetty or Sass died -we know that Sass died the day he was going to tell his first story but we don't know how. As for Hetty, I'm thinking it might have to do with overdose given the amount of drugs she took that she didn't know we're harming her. The mystery aspect of their deaths in the UK version ties with the more "haunting" atmosphere of the show whereas the US one is "sunnier", which isn't a bad thing at all! Alberta's death was a mystery and the reveal with Hetty knowing the truth all along was gasp worthy

- It bugs me when people say that the US version is a copy of the UK one because, a)that's... that's what an adaptation is. The Office is an adaptation of the UK office but no one really cares? B) Aside from Pat/Pete's storyline, I can't see any other similar subplots other than their "main" aspect. Hetty and Fanny are the conservative ladies of the house, Sass and Thomas are the artists, Flower and Kitty have bubbly personalities, Robin and Thor are the oldest ghosts who speak broken English. Sure, Trevor and Julian both died without their pants on but both are pretty distinct from each other. Isaac and the Captain are the closeted soldiers but both of their storylines take different paths. All of the characters are different, with different personalities, interests etc. If the US version had carbon copy characters of the UK one, people would, justifiably, call it a copy but even now where the characters are very different they're still calling it one. They compliment and parallel each other without being the same

- The BBC version follows a more "creepy" tone, if that's the correct way of saying it, with a haunted atmosphere and that's cool. The CBS version follows a more sitcom-y tone with a more cheering atmosphere and that's also cool! No need saying one's superior than the other

- I think Crash was kinda pointless? They wanted to make a Humphrey but it didn't really work. He's not even a ghost that's there, unlike Humphrey who had a role and contributed to the story

Feel free to add your own opinions 💚

#cbs ghosts #ghosts cbs #ghosts bbc #bbc ghosts

[thepetesimp]

Pete and the act of crying: Part 1

So, a wonderful discussion yesterday with @wretchedamaranth made me have Pete thoughts (as if I needed an excuse to have Pete thoughts in the first place) and I would like to express them. This time, it's about Pete and how he cries in the show. One incredibly dumb argument against Build's acting by haters was that he wasn't good at crying, that his crying wasn't *believable*. I truly pity these people, because it shows they never understood the intricacies of Pete's character and it's a shame, because Build did such a phenomenal job portraying them. I would like to talk about them. My main point is that Pete cries like a person who hasn't cried in literal years.

Pete's first instance of crying is seen in episode 13, during his breakdown with Vegas, who lashes out at him and holds a knife to his throat, as seen above. Do you see that face? Do you see the pure pain and agony Pete is feeling? And because a picture isn't doing it justice at ALL, he it is in gif form:

DO YOU SEE THIS? DO YOU SEE THE QUIVERING OF HIS LIPS, HIS EYES SQUINTING, HIS BREATH BARELY BEING THERE? DO YOU SEE HIM FIXING HIS JAW, TRYING TO GULP, TRYING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER?

He's looking at Vegas dead in the eye while he's doing it, too. Like he should have known, he should have known this would happen, but why Vegas, why did you give me hope, why did you do this to me? It's so raw and the scene has barely started, I'll be here all day, okay. And then the scene keeps going, and Pete's face is pain personified and then we get his monologue about not being a person, about being nothing, and his face smooths out. That doesn't mean he's back in control, because it's the calm before the storm, before he grabs the knife out of Vegas hand and places it in his throat again.

I'm here staring in awe, because he's still not shed a tear, but he sniffs at some point before grabbing the knife as he's talking, as if there's snot to pull back up, as if he's actually managed to express his grief fully. But he can't do that, his body won't allow that, it doesn't know how, it's been too long. It's fucking perfect. Also, I love how the camera shakes as Pete is giving his monologue, thus subconsciously giving the message that Pete's pretty shaken up right now, if everything else wasn't making it obvious. And then he grabs the knife and the pain multiplies and his face breaks again, way more than before, but the CAMERA IS BLURRED, IT'S NOT SHOWN CLEARLY, not until they show Vegas crying actual tears and apologizing, not until showing Pete's bloody palm.

This is the face we see, after Vegas apologizes:

Now Pete is getting there, the tears are almost spilled, but he's still repressed in his expression of grief and it's glorious because Pete has never experienced these emotions before. Pete has always been passive in his suicidal ideation, he has always let things happen to him that may result in death (a.k.a. his mission for the sake of Porsche) but now he's in such agony that he takes action. And then the scene continues and oh? Are those tears my eyes are seeing?

We got them everybody. After Vegas says, "Don't leave me, I'm begging you," Pete sheds his first tear, and they continue to be shown when Vegas tells him to start over again and Pete is downright offended by the suggestion, as if Vegas means it in a way Pete would want, as if that's even fucking possible for them at all. It's such a spectacular choice editing wise, because I'm pretty confident in my belief that this is from a different take than the other ones before it, due to how suddenly they appear on Pete's face. It fits the scene and the character so well.

Pete is downright sobbing at this point and I'm obsessed with the fact that no more tears are spilled. You can see that throughout the rest of the scene, as well as this moment in which he's breaking down in Vegas' arms after he says he'll remove the handcuff indirectly, while directly asking Pete to promise him he won't leave him.

HOW DO PEOPLE SEE THIS AND THINK BUILD DOESN'T CRY WELL? LOOK AT HIM!!! LOOK AT HOW DEVASTATED HE IS, LOOK AT HOW CONFLICTED HE FEELS ABOUT WHAT HE'S ABOUT TO DO, LOOK AT THE PAIN!!! He doesn't NEED to sob and cry ugly, snotty tears for it to work because that's not who Pete IS. He's not Vegas, he doesn't even allow himself to grieve what he's losing here properly. Have you ever had an instance in which you feel like crying, and you want to cry, but you're so numb that the tears just aren't coming? You're trying to push it out, you're trying super hard to get to the point when you'll be able to break down and seek relief from this crashing feeling in your chest, but your eyes are as dry as the Sahara desert? Well, I feel that this is happening to Pete here, except he doesn't even know it's happening to him. I'm fucking obsessed with this scene, it's my second favorite VP moment after the pill kiss, and one of the main reasons is the one that made me make this post. It's so tragic and beautifully relatable and I love it so, so much. I wanted to analyze all of Pete's crying scenes, but it'll make the post larger than a fucking book at this point, so I'll touch upon the other ones in a different one.

#oh look at that #another Pete meta post by yours truly #How has it almost been a year since I've started this show and I still have so many thoughts about my boy? #Someone explain it to me I don't understand #Whoever criticized Build's acting deserves a boo from me personally #he was *the* best actor in the show and I'm tired of pretending that he wasn't #anyway expect another post about his crying scenes whenever I get the proper brainworms for it #kinnporche the series #vegaspete #pete phongsakorn saengtham

[witchthewriter]

𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐡𝐞𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐲 & 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

gif credit: @rebecca-quin.

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had been taking Barbie to see the new toys in your closest mall. She instantly went to the doll section, where there were many Barbies (that made her nostalgic) lining the aisles.

"Oh! They've come out with a new one! Oh we so have to show Mami this one-" Barbie said as she took a box from the shelf and showed it to you.

・The box said in big purple letters: 'Barbie as a wrestler!' And it had her alter identity - a purple wig with make-up you could add onto her, it also came with the championship belt along with other accessories.

・Both of you were excited out of your minds, and couldn't wait to send a photo to Rhea

・Rhea was currently in another state, probably in the gym. You both went to as many matches as possible, but sometimes Rhea had to travel just to film scenes

・And yes, you both call Rhea, 'Mami,' it's like a proper nickname. Any weirdness has been erased from it

・Barbie cries while watching nearly every movie - even lighthearted ones.

・When your relationship was first beginning to solidify, Barbie said that she wanted to experience the whole of being a human. (Even though you shook your head).

・To Rhea, that meant taking Barbie on every rollercoaster???

・To you, it meant a lot of sightseeing and listening to people's stories and histories.

・You three like to travel together; Rhea always has everyone's luggage under control, you have everyone's passports, and Barbie makes sure everyone has sunscreen on/has drunk water/gone to the toilet

・You honestly make a great team

・And although Barbie could be thought of as a stereotypical dumb blonde who is inexperienced and a lost puppy - it's far from the truth. She's a quick learner, very kind, open-minded and adores animals.

・It was actually Rhea who put a stop to Barbie's endless adoptions. Because she would save animals who were due to be put down because no one wanted them. But she got too emotional when they got hurt or had to go to the vet (she gets attached to things very easily).

・Dom is a tad jealous of the relationship you have with Rhea. But again, you and Barbie let him fawn all over her during the WWE episodes.

・He's a pretty cool guy though, and has invited you to a few of the WWE parties

・Finn is polite, but doesn't really talk to you guys much. Damien is different though, he's very inclusive and loves seeing you two with Rhea.

・He calls you and Barbie his "best girls!"

・So, all in all, Judgement Day approves of you - not like Rhea would care if they didn't (they would not go against her ... ever)

・Barbie is a nose booper

・Rhea was actually the first person to say "I love you"

・Barbie has bandaids on her ALWAYS

・You try and keep your relationship on the DL when in public - for many reasons actually. Rhea has fans, and you don't want to bring too much attention to the fact that Rhea and Dom aren't actually together. And you don't want attention from the public - Barbie definitely doesn't. The thought actually causes her to hyperventilate.

・You and Barbie have scary dog privilege with Rhea - no one fucks with you.

・Rhea actually hates being in small areas - she's a bit claustrophobic

・You and Rhea let Barbie practice make up on you. She's ... getting better at it ...

・You're the blanket hog btw - Barbie and Rhea always whine when you roll up in the blanket

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Style (cover) by Ryan Adams

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Barbie) x Doberman (Rhea)

The Impulsive (Rhea) x The Chaotic (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Barbie - surprisingly)

Makes A Mess (Rhea) x Cleans The Mess (You) x Is A Mess (Barbie)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆  

Secret Dating

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞 no one under 18 past this point!

・It took a while for all three of you to figure out how sex was going to play out

・It took Barbie a while to understand her own body, so neither you or Rhea pushed her. You were both patient in letting her discover herself.

・But Barbie knew she liked women...

・A lot

・When entering the human world and deciding to stay, Barbie's body changed. So she does have a vagina

・And she very much likes to receive head. That's one of the things she's adamant about liking. She may still be discovering things - but Barbie loves head

・Rhea is a dominant person, but also likes to be dominated. Ironically, Barbie really likes to dominate and you're a big switch.

・Barbie likes to sit on Rhea's lap and nuzzle into her cleavage - pretty much making her a boobs gal, but she does like to check out your ass's every now and then

・Rhea is ass over boobs, it's why hers is so ... supple

・The bedroom is the best place to do sexual things as a throuple

・You guys have tried the shower (someone always got too cold), the bath (not all of you fit), the car (same thing - it was too difficult to manuever), toilet stall in the airport (way too sus with three people)

・So it's the best at home, where you have a lot of space to move

・Barbie makes very sexy moans; when she's about to cum, she makes a loud whine that is the prettiest noise

・Rhea LOVES dirty talk

"Whose in charge?" You growl in Rhea's ear as Barbie grabs and kneads Rhea's ass

"You are," she rasps

#witchthewriter #witch the writer's headcanons #wwe x barbie cross over #wwe x barbie #witch the writer #barbie #barbie headcanons #rhea ripley headcanons #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x you #rhea x you x barbie #rhea ripley x barbie #rhea ripley x barbie #rhea ripley x you x barbie #barbie x you #rhea ripley cross over #barbie cross over #mattel #WWE #judgement day #headcanons #a e s t h e t i c #wwe headcanons #barbie headcanon #barbie x y/n #barbie x rhea #barbie x rhea x y/n #lesbians #lgbtqia #lgbtqiia+

[cthulhu-with-a-fez]

i started naruto a few years ago and made it to like the second arc in shippuden before stopping so i never made it to the kakashi backstory but....your notes compel me. tell me more.

okay so like take this with several grains of salt because the sum total of my sources here are "my understanding of the plot and characters as synthesized from the Abridged Revised Illustrated Edition my datemate's been writing me over the last two months", a handful of clips, and the only three (3) episodes of this 600+ episode show i've seen in my life, none of the three of which were relevant to the kakashi backstory

h o w e v e r

oh my god. my dude. my man. [holds him up like longcat] there is so much wrong with you and i'm enthralled.

so like here's the thing. here's the big takeaway that i'm understanding. this whole series is an ongoing exercise in generational trauma bullshit and everyone trying so hard to course-correct from their own tragic backstories that they accidentally set up their kids/students to have completely different but still somehow exactly the same tragic backstories, and naruto's chronic case of shounen anime power-of-friendship-itis is, i mean. yes it's him being the platonic ideal of Pure Of Heart And Dumb Of Ass but it's also a direct response to seeing ninja society's perpetual tragic backstory generator and going "this is bullshit, why are we even fighting? tell me what your side is, and i'll tell you what our side is, and then we can figure out how to make our sides the same side so none of us have to fight about it at all!" and honestly i love that but this ain't about him

so like. to explain kakashi we have to explain kakashi's father sakumo first. because sakumo was one of konoha's powerhouses, been on tons of successful missions, well-liked, well-respected, one of the earliest and loudest adopters of konoha's then-new and radical pivot towards a ninja being people first and disposable tools never ideology.

he really, genuinely believed in that.

except then he and his team went on a mission. and it went really, really badly. and he had to choose between completing the mission objective or saving his teammates' lives, and he chose their lives, because those who fail their missions may be scum, but those who abandon their teammates are worse, right?

... no, actually.

just because the ideology had been circulating and people were broadly toeing the party line didn't mean they actually believed in it, and sakumo's mission failure was already causing critical backlash.after sakumo made it back to konoha he was a fucking pariah for it. he was never officially reprimanded, but he didn't need to be if people went out of their way to personally spit at his feet, and... one day young kakashi comes home to find his father's body on the floor, wrists slit and suicide note devolving into begging apologies beside him.

this, as you may imagine, fucked him up, and didn't exactly predispose him towards believing the party line about the value of life.

he gets put on a genin team that was. basically the alpha build of the sasuke-sakura-naruto team dynamic. because it was him, and rin the healer girl with a massive crush on him who he never gave the time of day, and obito the Loudest High-Vis Uchiha Who Ever Lived who had a massive crush on her, and minato their teacher who was doing his absolute best to try and get them through to understanding each other, which is an Ordeal

because kakashi at this point has internalized that the party line is pretty lies for the gullible, that his teammates are only there to drag him down, and it drives obito nuts because that's the same exact bullshit that his family keeps spouting that he's rejected as thoroughly as a 12.9-year-old can, how does kakashi not see that it's bullshit? and there's rin who's looking at kakashi like i can fix him?? and getting upset when he doesn't let them in at all or even really visibly care that they're trying, and it's one hell of a dysfunction junction but minato is working on it.

... and then the worst happens. their team is caught out alone and everything goes wrong. rin is captured and obito's body is half-crushed under a rock and one of kakashi's eyes got slashed out and none of them are going to make it out of this, at this rate, until obito calls kakashi closer and tells him to take his eye. take the sharingan. he'd give him both but the other one got squished. kakashi will do more with it than obito ever did, so use it to save rin. please. and here's kakashi in the middle of field surgery on his dying teammate finally, horribly realizing that sometimes the win condition is, actually, protecting your friends, and he's already lost. but he can still try to save rin, it was obito's dying wish.

by the time he found her it was already too late.

the people who'd captured her had tried, poorly, hastily, messily, to seal one of the Tailed Beasts into her, and she was already dying. she had a demon thrashing in her soul that was tearing her to shreds around it and all kakashi could do was mercy kill her

and she thanked him for it.

and he goes back to konoha, sole survivor of his team, charred by the newfound comprehension of why you have to care and what it feels like to lose what you love and with obito's sharingan in his head and rin's blood on his hands and something in him that was already hanging on by a thread finally snapped.

and the only thing he could think to do, the only way he could even parse that grief through, is to just... make himself into a living memorial to them. he started trying to live as obito. adopt his mannerisms, his interests, craft his entire adult persona around his memories of his friend like a grave offering, and quarantine the bleakly mercenary anything-to-get-the-job-done ice in him off into the hound mask he wore as part of konoha's black ops division, which he joined at the ripe old age of way too fucking young.

he uses the sharingan to incredibly brutally efficient effect, copying enemy jutsus and bringing them back until the library's overflowing with them. but in the end, no matter how many he can technically use, they're still just cheap copies. and so is he.

and in the meantime the uchiha are collectively losing their shit about this random outside kid having one of their eyes in his head and getting all kinds of dubious 'glory' with it, and oh, wouldn't you look at that, they have a prodigy too!

... yeah.

itachi gets shoved through the rank advancements on a timeframe of "whatever he did you have to do it faster and better." and then the kyuubi broke free. and minato and kushina died, and a fuckton of the home guard uchiha died, and suddenly he's the most able-bodied fighter in their clan overnight at age 11 and the uchiha pull strings to get him into ANBU as well.

and kakashi is his teammate.

kakashi is his teammate and kakashi sees in itachi a whole awful lot of the edges of the way kakashi used to be, sees itachi trying to live up to and embody the absolutely impossible ideal of the perfect ninja, and he tries so god damn hard to nudge him gently towards something, anything, other than that.

but in the meantime, the uchiha have been... scheming. with danzo, Guy With The World's Biggest Chip On His Shoulder About Not Being Hokage, who's been marinating in a paranoia spiral for years. danzo had tried to set himself up as kakashi's palpatine, and tried to get him to assassinate hiruzen, and kakashi hears him out, and turns right around and goes to hiruzen with it instead, and danzo is pissed. the uchiha are pissed. danzo warns hiruzen that they're almost definitely going to try again and they're gonna make the uchihas' little prodigy do it this time, and kakashi silently braces to have to fight and maybe kill his teammate he was trying so hard for, and then...

and then itachi, who'd been watching his clan get. worse. for a long time. finds his cousin shisui, his best friend shishui, bleeding out in the dirt, who tells him everything, tells him danzo tried to have shisui killed for finding it out, and it worked, he's dying, but he's not dead yet, so please. make it count.

.......................................... And Then The Uchiha Massacre.

and now itachi is one more person that kakashi tried to care about who got destroyed.

and then fast forward a little bit further, he's been retired from active-duty ANBU after a decade-plus of service because the sharingan is starting to burn him out, he's starting to lurch to a halt like unwound clockwork without something to Do, and... he gets given team seven. the worst of konoha's gremlin children.

a bitter, disillusioned loner with a chip on his shoulder and the skill to back it up, the healer girl with a crush on him that he never gives the time of day, and the Loudest High-Vis Pest In The Village.

you see where this is going.

kakashi who at this point has been coasting along by bouncing between mask-personae for years is now having to dynamically engage with life again because if he isn't present and actively responding to his team then there's a nonzero chance he'll turn around to find all three of them chewing on the drywall and he cannot default to scripted responses because they don't work on a pack of middle schoolers hellbent on squabbling til the cows come home. and it's kind of good for him?

but also, uh. [gestures broadly towards... Sasuke(TM) and the rest of the plot]

and yeah i'm not gonna get too much further into it because i'm not confident enough in my own comprehension of the timeline to do that XD but like.

hatake kakashi is a scarecrow of a man stitched together out of his dead best friend, a hunting hound, and his dead best friend again, who's spent his entire life behind one mask or another, who over the course of the series keeps surviving shit that by all odds he shouldn't have, or survives specifically because the people he cares about throw their plot armor around him before they die, and he has a personality mostly composed of the crumpled-up pages of the memetically worst-written trashy bodice-ripper novels ever published because obito used to love them and the inexplicable receipts of other people's love for him, and i want to put him in a gas station hot dog roller and perceive him.

thank you for coming to my ted talk XD

#answered asks by cwaf #snorlaxlovesme #kakashi hatake #naruto #yeah so like this very much is a thirdhand synthesis Take on it XD but oh my god. holy shit #this series is a masterclass in what is quite possibly the oldest story beat humanity has ever had #which is 'growing up realizing that your adult is fucked up because Their Adult was fucked up because THEIR ADULT was fucked up' #'and responding to it by either becoming them; becoming as different from them as possible; or a secret third thing' #anyway here i am showing up to the weeb-ubiquitous kakashi stan phase 20 years late with starbucks lmao #mr from-accounting you have so many things wrong with you and i love that for me

[kdramedies]

Oh In-joo, while naive in the context of the story we are being told, is not an idiot. In the first few episodes In-joo is established as someone who is resourceful, competent at her job, and a good sister. She always makes sure there’s a roof over her family’s head, food in their bellies, and tries to make sure that they’re (mainly In-hye) safe and happy. In-joo is really good at being poor. Which is why I don’t understand all of the comments I keep seeing calling In-joo an idiot or complaining that she’s too stupid so the show is “un-feminist” (whatever that means [does that mean women aren’t allowed to be a little dumb sometimes? Seems pretty un-feminist for women to be put into a box like that...]). Like, why the fuck would someone who has been dirt poor all their life suddenly be amazing in the world of money, murder, and politics? The first thing In-joo did with 2 billion won was buy name brand ice cream. That’s how poor she’s been throughout her life, corner store ice cream was her big first splurge (and it was on sale!). Some of her scenes have been played to add a bit of levity to such a dramatic show, the “hands up” scene is one of my favourites, but again, those scenes are of her experiencing situations that she’s never had cause to even wonder about before. I’ve certainly never thought about the bounds of plastic surgery, and if faced with a gun, I fully believe I would wet myself. But In-joo, someone who is earnest and takes things at face value, is somehow managing to survive in this world of lies and backstabbing she’s been thrown into. Some of it is dumb luck, some of it is Do-il saving her neck, but some of it is her. And I don’t just mean her badass moment in Singapore. Her resilience, her earnestness, her optimism and kindness. Every choice she’s made has contributed to the fall of the Jeongran Society. Her additions to their rag-tag team go largely unnoticed since she’s not unearthing the story behind it all like In-kyung, or a former inside man like Do-il, but In-joo is the one who has the mastermind behind all of this shaken. And it’s not just because this all started with Sang-a’s obsession with In-joo. Sang-a thought she knew In-joo, but like a lot of viewers, she didn’t know who In-joo would become. She thought In-joo would do anything for money, but instead In-joo would do anything for her family and her best friend, even after learning that their friendship was a lie. She didn’t know that behind her naivete In-joo was strong; stronger than her. Sang-a may be more confident, conniving, and quick-witted, but she can’t handle things not going her way. In-joo on the other hand, has never had anything go her way and as a result is more adaptable and quicker to bounce back.

This entire show is about classism and the ways that it divides us, schooling and intelligence is one of them. Without Hyo-rin’s family In-hye wouldn’t have had the opportunities they gave her. Without their great aunt, In-kyung wouldn’t have gone to university. But In-joo didn’t have anyone to give her a helping hand. People who are looking down on her character for being an “idiot” are only proving one of the points the drama is trying to make. If you’re poor, you’re considered unintelligent, if you’re considered unintelligent then people can treat you like garbage and get away with it. But Oh In-joo is done letting people get away with it.

#little women #tvn little women #oh in joo #people claim to want flawed female characters and then they actually exist and they call them stupid #it's annoying #like just say you want a girlboss who is a little clumsy and leave #kdramedies

[skitariiposting]

Okay, I've just finished watching episode 1 of Marvel's hit TV show Secret Invasion, and I've gotta say: eh. Especially coming off of binge watching all of adventure time and experiencing it all over again, then immediately watching AI Builds again and suffering another mental overload despite it being one of my favorite pieces of media ever. Heck, even if I have to compare it to another Marvel thing; Loki season 2 was way better. I really should have watched something bad before watching this, I'm coming down off of the "Rewatching AI Builds and fucking crying myself to sleep, again" high, but here we are.

This show feels especially "the writer strike, struck." Given that I haven't heard anybody really talk about this show at all, good or bad, I will be undertaking the task of relaying things I enjoy and/or find annoying.

Spoilers, obviously.

1. Look, say what you will about AI stuff, trust me when I say I'm pissed with it possibly taking my job eventually too, but for once it felt like it was used for a stylistic choice as opposed to just trying to rob people of a job.

The intro is obviously made with AI. However, I feel like they're trying to use it to make it feel alien and foreign, something inhuman or unearthly, and it works. It's visually interesting. However, I just wish we could get something like that without having to rely on this shitty AI stuff to do it. Imagine how cool it'd be if it wasn't for the immoral and outright theft involved with sourcing for AI.

2. The main plot is wacky, goofy, and utterly silly sauce. "Oh damn this giant catastrophe that effected literally half of all life all at the same time and made a bunch of people disappear made Nick disappear, that means he's totally not going to honor his deal with us because he's disappeared, time to terrorists!" I hope that the plot gets more fleshed out or something, but off to a bad start in episode 1.

3. Nick feels both simultaneously great and awful at the same time. He's still cocky and charismatic, which is something I love about his character. However, he feels like he's dumb. He's not the same Nick Fury from Avengers and Winter Soldier, and I don't like that. Sam Jackson's putting in a lot of the footwork here to keep the character from falling completely flat; line delivery is on point as always with Sam, but it feels like the writers are just dishing out some crappy plot stuff he's having to work with.

4. They set off three dirty bombs in a square full of people, with all three protagonists within range of it, and yet its a gunshot that almost kills one of them, not the bombs nor the "dirty" part of it, which I feel like they kinda forgot about. These are supposed to be radioactive for a reason: skrull are immune to radiation according to 30 minutes ago in the episode. As I've not seen any spoilers or anything plot related to this show (since nobody has really had anything to say about it at all, good or bad) I am forced to make the super easy prediction that there will be a big reveal where Nick is actually a Skrull.

I will continue with the show now and bring updates as I go.

#skitposting #marvel

[u-look-beautiful-today]

So I don't know if this has been discovered and I'm late to the party but, I was on IMBD and I saw THIS

ENID’S PARENTS WILL BE IN AN EPISODE

Of course, y'all know my delusions went RABID. THE ANGST. I would hate for Enid to have a bad home life, but for storytelling purposes? IT WOULD MAKE SENSE

They have put an emphasis that Wednesday and Enid are total opposites, what if it goes the same for their homes too. We have the loving and accepting Addams. And then we have the cold hearted, hateful Sinclairs. Enid is afraid she'll be kicked out if she can't transform. Her parents must have instilled that fear into her. I'm also a sucker for the 'sunshine, happy girl has a shitty home life' trope. (I love angst, okay?) Imagine a scene with me, please:

The episode is obviously the Family Day ep. I feel like this ep is a bit further in the season (5, 6, or 7) by then HOPEFULLY Wenclair are friends. There was also a snippet of an article with Emma on Enid and she says:

It leads me to believe that Enid has basically let her parents talk to her however they want. A lot of demeaning remarks, maybe some emotional/verbal abuse, always putting a pressure on her, etc. I feel like they also verbally judge others, like they will tell you to your face you are ugly, dumb, a disgrace. From the start of the ep, we see Enid in pure panic mode and the kind that has her shut down and she's avoiding EVERYONE. Wednesday finds this silly because HELLO, they are in the middle of a murder investigation. Anyway, we also see that Wends isn't too keen on being with her own parents and instead we get the Addams' mostly wandering around the grounds and reminiscing memories. So she seeks out her friend cause (she will never admit it) she's worried about Enid. She's been stressed and Wends has heard enough about her parents to know she might not be doing too well. And I will accept if either of these two scenes play out.

1. Wends can see how horrible the Sinclair's are to Enid. And she's a bit irked at Enid because dammit! Wends literally taught her to not take anyone's shit. So, Wednesday stays back because she wants Enid to stand up for herself. Maybe Wends pulls her side and is like

"Your parents are vile people and I mean that in a demeaning way"

"They aren't THAT bad..."

"This is pathetic and I won't just stand around and hear them talk to you like that. Pull it together, Sinclair"

And what finally gets Enid to stand up is the Sinclair's making a remark about Wednesday

"Ugh, did you see that girl? What awful looking braids"

"She has an ugly face too, I mean the scowl? How dreadful"

Enid, in a burning rage: "DONT SPEAK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT. I DONT GIVE A FUCK IF YOU CALL ME WORTHLESS NAMES BUT NEVER TALK ABOUT MY FRIEND AGAIN"

Them, shocked: "How dare you raise your voice to us? We are your FAMILY"

Enid, done with everything: "And Wednesday has been more accepting of me than you two have ever been. Sure she's gloomy, but she's smart and funny and actually really fucking kind, under it all! She's my friend-my BEST friend. And she's right, I don't need you two verbally assaulting me anymore"

Wednesday, proud af hiding in the crowd that formed

2. Wends sees the Sinclair's being horrible. And she also sees Enid just smiling (a fake one) and letting them say these things about her. By now, Wends knows Enid, despite herself, and she can see how her eyes are filled with tears and that she's close to a breakdown. So she marches over and stands literally in front of Enid. Obviously the Sinclair's are fake af and start smiling and trying to introduce themselves

"Oh! Hello, uh, dearie, who-"

Wends: "You two are the most disgusting humans who I have ever had the displeasure of meeting"

Them shocked: "How dare-"

Wends: "How does it feel to be at your prehistoric age and feel the need to bully your own child?"

Them clearing fumming: "WHY-"

Wends: "You want to know what I did to the last set of bullies? I made sure they could never reproduce again. Alas, it was only...attempted murder but with all your wrinkles and balding, I'm sure I could easily get the job done"

Enid, beyond shicked because NO ONE has ever stood up to her parents before

Them: "You do realize were werewolves?! Despite our disappointment unable to transform-"

Wends: "Never. Talk. About. Enid. Again. She's intelligent, witty, courageous, and the most loyal person I have ever met. She's far from a disappointment and she deserves better than you two"

Wednesday, grabs Enid’s arm and pulls them away

Enid, in awe, shocked, and a bit scared of what just happened

Wednesday, also shocked but wouldn't take it back

Anyway, that's all I have (cause now I wanna write a fic). I just wanted my thoughts out here before it airs and I will probably be proven to be horribly wrong!

#wenclair #enid x wednesday #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #netflix wednesday #enid sinclair