#god the CABBAGE are you KIDDING me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theharddeck · 1 year

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can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.

When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.

Jake chuckled against your core.

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.

“Good,” you whispered.

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.

“Green,” you whispered.

Jake’s eyes closed.

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.

So, yeah, you were back to need.

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly.

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit.

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t.

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen.

This couldn’t be happening.

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell.

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

taglist: @peakyrogers @hangmanbrainrot @wildbornsiren @princessofglitterland @mandylove1000 @daggerspare-standingby @blue-aconite @abaker74 @lt-bradshaw @dempy @callsignvalley @princessphilly @aurora-whispers @mxgyver @mlibbydp @bioodforbiood @thedroneranger

#jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader smut #jake seresin x reader smut #misskielwrites

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aangarchy · 25 days

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Things about the Netflix Live Action that I personally loved

I know i've been pretty negative about Natla in general, so to make up for that: here's a post about everything that i loved!

Dallas Liu and Gordon Cormier's casting. Those two were really good, and while Gordon definitely had some "kid actor" moments, he only has room for growth and i truly believe he'll continue to be the perfect Aang (in looks and general energy, not writing lol)

The scene where the watertribe is staring over an unconscious Aang going "is he dead? What's the mark on his head?" it rlly made me giggle

A bunch of Ian Ousley's jokes were funny. Not all, but a bunch.

Maria Zhang, she also truly was a perfect Suki, i loved her performance and she's just so beautiful in general

Cabbage merchant

The costumes generally stayed true to the original, and while some looked a bit clunky or too clean they were overall really nice

Zuko and Aang's chat after the blue spirit story, it was a very good addition and Dallas and Gordon have great chemistry

Zuko's crew on the ship being the 41st division, aka the soldiers he saved from getting sacrificed by speaking out

Cabbage. Merchant.

June. I have no notes on her and i wished they utilized her more. I know she's coming back in s3 (i hope... *narrows eyes at netflix*) but i still feel like we didn't get enough of her yet

The change in June flirting with Iroh instead of Iroh being a little creepy towards her. You can shout double standards but this definitely felt less uncomfortable

The music

The set design when they weren't using greenscreen was genuinely very good

Casting for the mechanist and Teo was immaculate

Oma and Shu being lesbians

The whole blue spirit sequence

Cabbage Merchant

Yue's character in this version of the story (not her hair though god forbid)

The leaves from the vines motif in the flashback for Lu Ten's funeral, and the song returning when Iroh goes with Zuko on the boat. Got me crying on a saturday afternoon

Lizzy Yu. I know there was rlly no reason for Azula's character to be there yet but i liked Lizzy's performance even though her writing was OOC

The design for the physical weapons like Sokka's club and boomerang, Suki's fans and Jet's hook swords was really nice

The makeup for the Kyoshi warriors was fantastic

Daddy Dae Kim

THE CABBAGE MERCHANT.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar #natla #netflix avatar #netflix atla #netflix

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humansofnewyork · 1 year

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“From all sour faced saints, deliver me O’ Lord. I don’t want to be with a grouch, a crab, a crocodile in a moat. The grumps are a small minority. But they’re vocal. Yes, the grumps are vocal. They have unresolved things, maybe from their childhood. They’re not disconnected from God. But they’re wrestling with him. Not a bad thing, mind you. Not a bad thing. But I want to hang out with people who enjoy life. At home I have a sunshine file; it’s just a plastic box. Inside are all the letters people have written me over the years: teenagers in the youth group, widows who lost their husbands. People who I was able to make a difference in their life. For two years I was chaplain on the children’s ward of the cancer hospital. What can you say? You can’t explain why some things happen. Only that it’s a mystery. And a mystery is reality, imbued with God’s presence. One Christmastime there was a ten-year old girl from Ireland, dying of leukemia. All this girl wanted was a Cabbage Patch Doll. Ugliest doll you’ve ever seen in your life, seventy-five dollars. Seventy-five dollars! And sold out everywhere. The mother told me:’ I’ve looked in every store.’ That same day a family from my parish asked what I wanted for Christmas. I say: one Cabbage Patch Doll, and two walkie talkies. They said: ‘Father, are you sure?’ I told them: ‘Yes I’m sure. I was a kid once too!’ The Cabbage Patch Doll went to the little girl. Then I gave one walkie-talkie to her, and one to her twin brother. So they could speak while she was in isolation. After she passed away the mother wrote me a letter. I keep it in my sunshine file. It said: ‘Those walkie-talkies were the best medicine she ever had.’”

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oneatlatime · 5 months

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Journey to Ba Sing Se, Part 1: The Serpent's Pass

Alternate title: Gimme Appa Back, Take Two.

Bit of a mouthful for a title. I will definitely be watching this apparent two parter as two single episodes. There's commentary too, but that'll wait for a rewatch.

The previously on segment seems to point to Suki making an appearance. I didn't like her in her original episode, so this bodes ill.

That was incredibly ominous title card music.

Explain this to someone who's never seen the show. Also, air mattress made of ice is a very efficient way to get hypothermia.

Sokka saying "no more distractions' actually summoned a distraction. He should look into harnessing that power.

This brings up a point I've been thinking about. So the Earth Kingdom are smart enough to house refugee transportation underground, presumably because they've figured out that fire can't dig. So why didn't the entire population of the Earth Kingdom just become mole people at the first sign of fire nation attack?

Get yourself Iroh's brand of chill. It's dearly bought in his case, but he has such a good way of looking at life. Also, half of Zuko's face is like an inch higher than the other half, and that haircut is not doing him any favours.

Oh god it's fuckboy. I'd take a million Sukis over fuckboy. Nice to see that the majority of his posse seems to have come to their senses and deserted him though.

CABBAGE GUY!!! HI CABBAGE GUY!!! I MISSED YOU!!!

She's got a point about destruction of the ecosystem, but unless there was woodworm in that cart, that platypus bear is guilty of needless destruction of cabbage guy's possessions.

I loved this. The double punch of getting stymied by bureaucracy and undermined by cosplayers. There are some wacky ideas in this episode.

Aang! You may have lost Appa but you still have your glider! You don't need a passport or a ticket! Just fly to Ba Sing Se and make puppy dog eyes at the Earth King to make him send a boat to collect your friends!

You know that part in Harry Potter where Ron and Harry miss the train and decide the only logical course of action is to steal a flying car rather than, I don't know, wait for a responsible adult? I have a feeling this show is going to do the same type of thing with the whole Serpent's Pass. And I have to say, it's a brilliantly accurate way to do a plot that involves pre-teens, because they will often reach for the most out-there, illogical course of action no matter their intelligence. Curse those still-developing neural pathways. It also makes perfect sense in a kids' show, where the audience mostly wouldn't be caught dead turning down an adventure in favour of asking a responsible party (or a bureaucracy) for help.

"It is your pleasure" Get wrecked bitch!

I love seeing Toph weaponise that which previously kept her caged. I love to see Toph winning at life. Actually, I love to see Toph.

Get yourself some friends who'll commit to the bit no questions asked like these guys.

Get yourself a man who says your name the way Sokka says SUKI!!!:D Get yourself a girl who's so into you, she'll flirt with you in front of your entire found family.

Momo knows what's up. He's a good judge of character.

It's rare for me to advocate for criminal behaviour on this show, but after that bureaucracy lady denied them any sort of solution for the refugees who got their tickets stolen, I was kind of hoping that Katara would just say 'fuck it' and steal one of those ferries. Or even smuggle people on to them. They've got two waterbenders; they could make ice boats to take them out to the ferry, or even across the whole lake presumably. Plot dictates they go face this serpent thing, because this appears to be a monster of the week episode, but boy did that ferry lady need smacking.

Sokka's acting funky.

Is corniness one of the side effects of pregnancy?

No one in their right minds thinks that a pass called "the SERPENT'S Pass" in a universe like this one is named for its aesthetic qualities. Nice try at misdirection, but there will be a Sneky Boy in that water.

Aang's kind of right about the whole 'hope is a distraction' thing. Hope can too easily go from fuel to crutch.

It didn't occur to anyone to hide from the Fire Nation ship until it passed?

Toph's just saving everyone's bacon today huh?

Am I sensing some post-Yue trauma?

I would love to know the context behind Zuko knowing this very niche skill.

Jet has this fascinating ability to do objectively good deeds in such a sleezy way that you end up siding with the greedy oppressors. Weird.

This makes so much sense. Aang zipped into the Avatar State so hard and fast in the desert that he probably scared himself, so now he's keeping a lid on things so hard that he's scaring everyone else with his newfound apathy. He's 12, and this episode he feels 12. This is probably the first time he's met emotions this big; of course he doesn't quite know what to do with them.

You know, Katara doesn't get paid enough to put up with this.

Suki. Honey. I'm pretty sure there's a girl code about not flirting with a guy in front of his ex.

Has Suki been filled in on the whole moon thing? Or is she just really confused right now?

You know, Smellerbee is just as unusual a name for a girl.

Jet talks the talk, but I don't believe he'll be able to walk the walk, despite second chances being one of the big themes of this show. Something about him still feels off.

Hope you guys can swim!

Katara to the rescue again. I'm liking this new level-headed action-oriented Katara that appeared in The Desert, and I'm glad she wasn't just a one-episode character.

Momo here fulfilling one of my childhood dreams. There was an aquarium room at my local zoo that had a tunnel you could walk through. Seven year old me would have sold my soul to be able to glorp through the glass and swim with the fishes like this.

Once again, Toph saves the day. She's doing a lot of heavy lifting this episode.

Big Sneky Boy has the colour palette of an exercise video from the 80s aerobics phase. Kind of detracts from the terror when he's wearing a leotard.

Number one sign of irresponsible pet ownership: sacrificing your lemur to Cthulhu.

Aang just bitchslapped Big Sneky Boy.

Why didn't they go with a big ice bridge in the first place?

Yeah that's a problem. Could she make rock skate blades and attach them to her feet maybe? Would that help her see?

Guys. Just. Send someone out there for her. The ice doesn't have handrails. Come on.

Suki can swim in like half a tonne of armour. I bet they have swimming with armour on drills on Kyoshi Island.

"You can go ahead and let me drown now." That is EXACTLY my sense of humour.

Unlike goldfish, Big Sneky Boys can be flushed down the toilet.

"Now it's nothing but smooth sailing to Ba Sing Se." *Something immediately goes wrong* Has Sokka thought about harnessing his ability to speak things into existence?

Tragically, it makes perfect sense that Katara knows exactly how to deliver real human things.

"You know, as soon as I saw your scar I knew exactly who you were." Jet's little speech here got the biggest laugh out of me yet. I had to pause so I wouldn't miss dialogue. He's so deliciously wrong.

This episode's Beat Up Sokka quota is fulfilled by a baby that has yet to be born.

"I want our daughter's name to be unique" TAKE COVER FOLKS! UNNECESSARY VOWELS INCOMING!

Didn't you guys just nearly get killled by a pass that told you to abandon Hope? Are you sure about that name?

Ok it isn't pregnancy that makes you corny. It's being a character in this episode. While I'm glad to see the back of Stoic Aang, this is getting to be a bit on the cheesy side.

Hell yeah Katara deserves that cry. And that hug.

I'm watching this at my mom's house and I need to report that when Sokka said "You came along, to protect me?" my mom audibly went "awww!"

On a more serious note, this is exactly what Sokka needs after the Yue situation. A badass girlfriend who not only can and does take care of herself, but who also can and does take care of Sokka. Boy needs some pampering.

That is one hell of a wall.

That is one hell of a Big Sneky Boy.

"Appa's gonna have to wait" hit like a tonne of bricks. Another step in the journey to turn Aang from carefree monk to repsonsible Avatar. Appa having to wait is a genius story beat, but I want Appa NOW.

Final Thoughts

I had to check out my window for flying pigs before I started typing this section, because Zuko was consistently the most reasonable character in the B plot, perhaps in the whole episode. Apparently the 'make Zuko decent' project is finally seeing results. Have we turned over a new leaf? Dare I hope? It helps that he was juxtaposed with one of the single most batshit crazy characters from season one, but still.

I also need to issue a formal apology to Suki and all of her fans. I didn't like her in The Warriors of Kyoshi, and while I'm still not overly fond of that episode, I love what they've done with her character here. A good standalone character with her own strengths, goals, and responsibilities, and a good match for Sokka. I'd go so far as to say she's a better match for Sokka than Yue was, for all that both ladies have a startling amount in common: a position of responsibility, devotion to those who regard them as a leader, good taste in water tribe ass, etc.

I'm also going to hypothesise that Sokka is, in universe, the hottest member of the Gang. He's now had four girls expressing their interest: Suki, then Yue, then Azula's pokey pink friend whose name currently escapes me, and now Toph too! And she can't even see him, so his hotness is more than skin deep.

This episode was another stealth character episode in the style of The Blue Spirit. You think it's an action episode but it's actually character work with some fights for spice. It's got: -payoff for Katara's new-found levelheadedness -the other side of the coin on Aang's desert freakout -Toph doing just ALL the heavy lifting in the absence of Appa (seriously, teach her to fly and you won't need Appa as anything but a friendly couch) -Toph also getting an incredibly logical weakness that she learns she can rely on her friends to surmount -Sokka getting some Yue resolution from a frankly ironic source -Zuko getting what I'm sure is going to turn into a dark mirror

Speaking of fuckboy, there was nothing in this episode that hinted that Jet's turn to good was anything but genuine, but something about him still really makes my teeth itch. So I'm calling it now: based not on any evidence, but entirely on my own feelings, Jet's turn to good isn't going to stick.

There was some corny stuff in this episode, but it's a kids' show. It gets way more allowance for corny than an adult show does. I'll let it slide, so long as it doesn't become a habit.

This was part one of a two part episode, but it certainly didn't feel that way. There was the Big Metal Sneky Boy plot hook at the very end, but other than that it was a self-contained story.

I had predicted last episode that the rest of season two would be spent getting to Ba Sing Se, and they did it in one episode. So I'd like to announce my retirement from predicting the future because I am not good at it. I have no idea where we're going beyond next episode. I guess I'll have fun finding out!

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the serpent's pass

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donutwatches · 2 months

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MHA 2.20 - Listen Up!! A Tale from the Past - part 2

Sorry for the big gap in posting, I have been SICK sick. Anyway here is the rest of episode 20.

He looks like a business man. Needs tailoring in the shoulders. Big bad villain points thus far, mysteriousness: 10 points, intimidation: 7 points, fashion sense: it's a 0 from me.

Why do I feel like I am learning so much lore, but only have more questions?

Wait, it is hard to tell in black and white, but that is totally All Might in a pool of blood hunched over Big Bad's 'dead' body, right?

I would pay money to see that fight. I must have been gritty as hell. SHOW ME THE GORE!

This seems like something Deku should have been informed of BEFORE he was given the quirk. I suppose All Might thought Big Bad was dead, but still.

Well crap. I guess fighting terrifying villains was going to come with the territory no matter what, but All Might having kept our little Green Bean in the dark about the history of his new quirk feels like a big mistake.

Sweet brave kiddo. It is a good thing that All Might turned out to be a good person. Imagine if he wasn't? With a kid looking up to him so blindly he could have manipulated him so badly.

This statement from Deku is ominously naive. Deku is def going to face dark times and hardship that will test his commitment. I know it is going to be hard to watch him fight through it.

TELL HIM WHAT ALL MIGHT! IF YOU ARE HIDING MORE ESSENTIAL INFO AT THIS POINT I SWEAR TO THE ANIME GOD-

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO DEATH FLAGS ALLOWED!

The show is basically telling us he is going to die upfront. I am going to hope it is reverse psychology, and that somehow All Might will escape the mentor death trope. *Praying*

What the hell? Is his head a cabbage? That is wild.

Click here for episode 21

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #anime #all might #deku #midoryia #yagi toshinori #ofa #afo

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fruitcoops · 6 months

Text

Dial Drunk

Fic O'Ween Day 1, for the prompt 'First Frost'! Many thanks to @noots-fic-fests for organizing and @lumosinlove for the best characters <3 Have some baby Sirius and James causing Dumo heart failure for your Thursday!

TW drunkenness (silly fun, not angsty)

Pascal enjoyed 20 minutes of a PG-13 movie (the first in three months) before stumbling, out-of-sync footsteps outside his house interrupted his peace. He should have known better than to think a quiet night in would live up to its name.

“Come on, man, work with me—”

“Shh.”

The kids were in bed. Why couldn’t that be enough?

“No, no, why can’t we just go back to your house?”

“Because—”

They had been gems this evening. Dinner passed without a fuss; a FaceTime with their mother riveted them more than a TV show, for once.

“James…”

“Don’t whine at me, god. Can I have my arm back?”

Pascal cursed softly to himself as he rummaged the remote from the couch cushions and paused the movie. Rustling became a scuffle—he opened the door just as the bell rang through the house.

James Potter stared at him, then broke into a broad grin. “Dumo! Hi!”

“Did you read the sign?”

James’ eyes flickered over the doorframe. Pascal got to watch him read the Please Do Not Ring Bell—Infant Inside! in real time. His smile slipped into more of a grimace. “…shit. My bad.”

“Bonjour,” Sirius mumbled blearily, listing into James’ side. “Ça va?”

Pascal sighed. He had been hoping someone on the team would keep an eye on those two. Parties were all well and good until the dynamic duo of poor decision-making was left to their own devices.

“We had fun,” James offered by way of explanation. Sirius’ hiccup jostled them both. “Maybe—maybe a little too much fun.”

“Got kissed on the cheek,” Sirius said with an enthusiastic nod.

The lipstick print on his face was glittery in the porchlight. “Congratulations.”

“Merci.”

Christ above. “Pots.”

James had the decency to look embarrassed. “I know.”

“Are you serious?”

“Non, c’est moi,” Sirius snorted, swaying toward the potted plant at the edge of the stairs. They both reached for him at once; Sirius made a noise of surprise, but was pliable as putty when James coaxed him back out of the danger zone. The sharp tang of alcohol and at least three different perfumes spilled off him in waves. Sirius was doe-eyed when he bent to rest his head on James’ shoulder. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

Pascal arched a brow; James gave Sirius a guilty pat on the back. “Any time, buddy.”

“Are you sure we can’t go back to your house instead?”

“Mhmm.”

Sirius huffed in disappointment. “Why?”

“Because my guest room isn’t unpacked.”

“Can sleep on the couch. Or the floor.”

“Lily’s coming over tomorrow morning.”

Sirius’ groan cracked as he pushed his face into James’ shoulder. “Just put me in the backyard.”

“One of us will turn the hose on you.”

Pascal shook his head and reached out. “Allez, mon fils, let’s get you—"

“You’re so mean,” Sirius complained, still fixated on James. “I don’t want to go home. Dumo’s going to be upset.”

James’ gaze darted to him for a beat. “Pads, no, it’ll be fine.”

“Non.”

Pascal’s stomach sank. “I’m not upset,” he tried, gentling his voice.

But Sirius just nodded. “Yes, he is.”

“Hey.” Pascal prodded his arm. “Hey, petit chou.”

“Don’t like cabbage. Crunchy.”

Pascal exchanged a look with James and fought an eye roll. Without initial surprise clouding his vision, James was clearly only more sober by a slim margin. His glasses seemed determined to balance on the very end of his nose, despite repeated attempts to push them up again. His sneakers shuffled sheepishly on the doormat.

“Just tell me you didn’t drive.”

“I don’t have a car,” Sirius said brightly.

James gave a vigorous shake of his head. “Fuck no, we took an Uber. Are you crazy?”

“Are you drunk?” Pascal countered. Sirius barked a laugh; James’ already-flushed cheeks darkened. A once-over revealed little he didn’t already know, only a comfort in the sense that they both seemed hale and whole regardless of their wobbling.

Oh, to be twenty again.

Pascal inclined his head toward the house and stood aside. “In. Don’t wake the kids.”

An attempt to fit through the door at the same time was admirable, but doomed, as they soon realized after a few seconds of fumbling. James eventually squeezed past with Sirius trotting close behind. Something about it struck Pascal as a particular poetic irony.

“Where’d you end up?”

“Place on sixth.” James’ hands were clumsy on his shoelaces. Sirius observed him for a moment, then kicked his own shoes into the closet still tied.

“Was it fun?”

“Mhmm. Hopping tonight.”

“We left early,” Sirius chimed in. “James said I needed to go home.”

“He’s smart. You should listen to him more.” Listen to me more, he added in his mind as he guided James’ jacket off his flailing arm and nudged Sirius’ phone away from the precarious table edge. Despite their clumsiness, their clear efforts to stay quiet did not go unnoticed. It was a common courtesy that some of the rowdier boys tended to forget.

“D’you want me to—”

“Guest room,” Pascal interrupted, tilting his chin down the hall. “Bathroom’s yours. Advil in the top drawer.”

James took a breath, then paused. “Does it have one of those kid-lock things?”

“Yes.”

He whistled through his teeth. A reluctant nod followed. “Kay. I can handle that.”

“Lame if you couldn’t,” Sirius mumbled.

“Like you’d do better.”

His lazy grin became offense in half a second; his back stiffened under Pascal’s palm. “I could—”

“Quiet,” Pascal reminded him.

“I could,” Sirius repeated in a harsh whisper, jabbing his finger toward James. “And you know it.”

James raised his hands in mocking surrender before raking one through his hair. His glasses had wandered down his nose again, and he gave Pascal a drowsy blink. “I’ll be out by, like, nine tomorrow. Lily’s coming over at eleven, so…y’know. Gotta clean my kitchen ‘n shit.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that,” was Pascal’s response of choice. He was fairly sure noting the late (or rather, early) hour was a poor course of action if he wanted James Potter asleep in the next five minutes.

James squinted at the floor for a few more seconds. “Fuck, I gotta wash my sheets.”

“Go to bed, James.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

Pascal propped Sirius up on his shoulder as he watched James go. There was a hole in the heel of his sock that was only going to get bigger. James probably wouldn’t throw the thing out until it literally fell off his foot. Maybe it was a good thing Lily was visiting—she always shook some sense into him.

“Dumo.”

Pacal’s stomach swooped. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No,” Sirius snorted, as if the very idea was ridiculous.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“What do you need?”

“Nothin’.” Sirius wrinkled his nose and stuck his tongue out for a weak raspberry. “English tastes gross. Makes my head hurt. Regulus doesn’t like it, either. Mine is a lot better since because I was here but he’s pratiss—practick—pratique. In school. See? Dumb language.”

“You’re doing a very good job.”

Sirius beamed at him. “Really?”

“Ouais. Much better than I did.”

“Yours is a lot better than mine, though.”

Pacal was glad he didn’t protest the subtle guidance toward the basement stairs, if he noticed at all. “Well,” he began, grunting slightly at the weight imbalance on the first step. “I’ve been in the league for nearly twenty years. You’ll pick it up.”

“I wanna play hockey forever,” Sirius sighed.

“Give it your best, and you’ll do great things.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgment, though he seemed a little too focused on holding the railing for Pascal to believe it. They edged their way down two more steps before he glanced up again with an astonished look on his face. “You’ve been in the league as long as I’ve been alive?”

Holy Jesus fucking Christ. His tongue went dry and stiff as leather. “I guess I—” Pascal tipped his head toward the ceiling and let a breath siphon through his nose. He should’ve taken James up on the backyard offer. A spray-down with the hose would do Sirius some good. “I hadn’t, ah. Thought about that. Merci.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Isn’t it just?” Perhaps if he asked nicely, Sirius would kick him down the stairs. It would be kinder. He might even hit his head hard enough to forget the entire evening. Where was the shy boy covered in winter’s first frost when Pascal needed him, anyway?

He winced at the thought. As accidentally-devastating as Sirius was with alcohol coursing through his veins instead of common sense, he couldn’t make himself wish for the opposite. They had only just managed to get his shell open; James better than anyone. There really wasn’t a world where he would trade this newfound vibrancy for anything, but—

His lower back panged when Sirius lurched toward his bed. “Woah.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sirius muttered. “Tired.”

“Je sais.” Pascal shook his head against the glimmers of pain in his vision and made a mental note to ask Remus about that during their next session. “Pajamas, water, then bed.”

“But—”

“Pajamas, water, bed,” he repeated firmly. “Or skip the pajamas. I don’t care.”

Sirius frowned down at himself, scratching at his cheek. Glossy sparkles spread into an amorphous blob. Exasperation pressed against the inside of Pascal’s ribs; he sat Sirius on the edge of his desk and dampened a washcloth in the bathroom, then returned to his side. “Let me see.”

“See what?”

“Your cheek.”

Dark brows knit. “Not hurt.”

“Just—hold on.”

Sirius was flinching back before the cloth even got close. “Hey, hey, non.”

“You’ve got—”

A forceful push to his wrist made him pause. “Non.”

Pascal blinked. “There’s something on your cheek,” he tried. Sirius watched him with strange, alert suspicion. He held both hands palm-up between them and bit the inside of his lip against the urge to reach again. “Here.”

Silver eyes flickered back and forth in the low lamplight, towel to Pascal to towel to Pascal. Sirius shifted on his perch and took the cloth hesitantly. The rigidity of his torso eased once the gloss-print was gone under a few harsh scrubs, and Pascal took it back without issue.

“I’m not upset with you.”

“Hmm?”

“I’m not upset.” He watched Sirius take two large gulps of water from the bottle on his desk before flopping back on the bed. “I’m just glad you two got home safe.”

Sirius made a faint noise of agreement while he made himself comfortable, tugging at the sheets with little regard for their proper direction. A leg and most of his shoulders stuck out when he finally gave up and pushed the side of his face into the pillow. Pascal tucked the blanket around him on instinct; his heart tugged at the long, contented exhale that followed. “James is so nice to me.”

“He’s your friend.”

“So nice,” Sirius mumbled, almost to himself. His eyes were already half-shut. “Dumo?”

“Ouais?”

“Is James going to play hockey with me forever?”

“Ah.” Of all the questions you could ask. “I think you two do well together on the ice, so there’s no reason to split you up.”

Sirius tucked his knees up beneath the covers and shoved an arm under his pillow. “I don’t want to play hockey forever if James isn’t there.”

Pascal sat on the edge of the desk and crossed his arms across his chest. It had been nearly twenty years since he last checked his blindspot on the ice. There was no need—not while Sergei was there. They had talked about the end, of course, and the after. It went unspoken that they’d probably leave together. Too many jokes about PTA duels would be wasted if they didn’t.

How many nights had they dragged each other home, stumbling and giggling? They had walked nearly four miles the night they won the Cup in Colorado, those glorious quiet hours between being shooed home and when the taxis would answer their phones. Pascal couldn’t recall the last time he had fallen over the welcome mat with Sergei on his heels, instead of being the one holding the door open.

“Sirius?”

“Mhmm.”

“James will stay with you.” There was nobody Pascal would rather have at Sirius’ back, when he thought about it. Not even himself. “If you decide you want to play hockey forever, he will be the first person to sign up with you.”

“You’re not—” A yawn interrupted him, wide enough to make him scrunch his face. “—upset that we were loud?”

“Non. Promise.”

“Merci.” The sheets twisted in Sirius’ fist as he brought them close to his body. His mere twenty years made him look small without a frown and a ‘C’.

“Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

An incoherent mumble was all the answer he received, and more than he expected. He turned the lamp off with a gentle click, leaving Sirius to sink into heavy, even breaths.

New Message To: Vans

Pots and Black home safe

Lunch tomorrow @ usual. Kids included.

I’m buying. No protests.

New Message From: Vans

Why are you awake

New Message To: Vans

Lunch. Usual. Kids included.

If you bring your wallet I will kick your ass.

New Message From: Vans

Vans laughed at your message

:thumbs-up_emoji:

Can’t wait.

#pascal dumais #sirius black #james potter #sergei ivanov #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #fic o’ween 2023 #first frost #rookie sirius #fluff #drunkenness

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thechekhov · 1 year

Text

Dungeon Meshi - Quick Reacts (CHAPTER 9: ORCS)

On today’s installment, we’re eating-- OH NO

HMMMMMM.

You reap what you sow. You carry what you reap.

noooooOOOO OH MY GOD

SENSHI. AN UNMANNED VEGETABLE STAND? IN A DUNGEON? That’s the most Japanese-countryside thing I’ve ever fucking heard oh no....ooooh no.

she’s right though. look at that cabbage.

this is how some people in real life be reacting when you bring up eating healthy too.

GET UR HANDS OFF OF MY GIRL SHE MIGHT BE A NERD BUT SHE’S RIGHT

maybe the orcs want the vegetables.

Marcille was looking............respectfully.

.......she’s such a handsome girl, that dragon. I know she ate Fallin but man. I love her.

wHEEZE “Man, she’s ugly” Yeah, hairless and without tusks? Makes sense.

these guys don’t play around. I guess I kinda get it but.

he had a plan. The plan was - BREAD.

Initially I was surprised that this encampment seems so... barebones. But I suppose this isn’t their permanent housing. They’re literally fleeing from a dragon, so it makes sense that this is more like a refugee situation.

I’m INTRIGUED I tell you.

AND THEIR LITTLE TAILS OOOOOH

Absolutely incredible. Dad really said “It’s Critical Race Theory time, buddy.”

The awkward atmosphere is PERFECT but what’s more perfect is that the chicken don’t give a fuck.

oh she’s being SMART about it. They’re totally using this kid as a way to bargain.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I will nitpick ONE thing. ONE THING only.

Unless you’re buttering those biscuits, it’s stupid for basic bread to be so fluffy and shiny. This part, at least, is very specifically coming from the fact that Japan has very few breads that are hardier than Wonderbread. It frustrates me to no end that every single bread I pick up at the store over here comes in only two varieties - White Fluff or Stone-hard Baguette.

Bread made from basic flour (is it refined? I somehow doubt it. It should be whole grain.) and water and starter should be sourdough-like This bubbly bread-imposter has never met a sourdough loaf in its life, and I resent it.

love a good paneling without any dialogue.

Don’t worry Laios, I believe in you.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

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mirkwoodsuperspy · 6 months

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things i love abt alex

the way he hated on henry

new years kiss with nora

"he has the personality of a cabbage"

"i'd rather not be the little spoon"

everything in the closet (the literal one)

telling henry that return of the jedi being his favourite is wrong

HRH prince dckhead 💩

makes june read narcissistic fanfics abt himself

"tell shaan i say hi and i miss that sweet sweet ass xoxoxo"

turkeys gobbling and alex screaming

calling henry to make him listen to turkeys gobble

THIS SCENE. "C'mon, it's, like, in the hips. You have to loosen up." He reaches down and puts both hands on Henry's hips, and Henry immediately tenses under his touch. "That's the opposite of what I said."

"Nora! Henry has never watched a bunch of teenagers dry hump to this song!"

his entire relationship with nora

like, he's pretty sure he's straight

see, this means i can't possibly be into guys

making out with liam. award goes to liam for being the best side character ever

calling liam four years after they made out to ask if they were ever a thing and if there was a chance he was into boys

makes out with henry in front of a portrait of alexander hamilton

"for fck's sake man you just had my dck in your mouth you can kiss me goodnight"

first son of your former colony

"it's recently come to my attention you're not quite as boring as i thought. sometimes. namely when youre doing the thing with your tongue."

"baby" and pretending not to notice when henry positively melts.

"wanna do something stupid?" then wrapping his wet lips around his bottle of beer

getting henry drunk

loser with no friends besides his sister, his ex, his boyfriend, his boyfriend's best friend, and his boyfriend's sister

all his emails to henry

"tf is this? aren't there poor people in your country?"

him and zahra. "something you'd like to share with the class?"

"oh f*ck me" "f*cking sh*t" and the rest of the swearing string

yrs/ affectionately yrs

history, huh? bet we could make some

him and june

flying to England and shouting for henry to come out and talk to him

"I can see why all y'all had to marry your f*cking cousins"

"I f/cking love you, okay?"

"what do you want? "i want you" "then f/cking have me"

"i'll leave as soon as you tell me to leave"

"tell me to leave"

alex, nora, and june iconic trio

"stop are you kidding me?" "prince consort road? oh my god, take a picture of me with the sign."

"sweetheart, you're proof too"

when he made a list of things he loved about henry

comforting henry so tenderly in the car

f/cking yrs

"sweetheart" in the airplane

"zahra, you're my mean friend"

stopping the car to look at a drawing of himself (and henry ofc) XD

you know the scene where he woke up and wiggled his ass against henry um okay hahah we'll leave that there

his love for texas and his final interaction with liam

#rwrb #rwrb spoilers #rwrb book #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex x henry #prince henry rwrb #alex rwrb #june rwrb #june claremont diaz #nora holleran #nora rwrb

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months

Text

Part 4

After a few games and a few beers, Steve didn’t even notice how close Jonathan was pressing to his side. Well, he noticed. It would be more accurate to say he was less self conscious about Jonathan being that close.

“Okay, Nancy, Robin, settle something for me”, Eddie hobbled over to a family portrait and took it off the wall. “Are these the actual Harringtons?”

Nancy shrugged. “I actually never met his parents.”

Steve turned his head to look at her, mouth open in shock. “We dated for a whole year!”

“Yes and I never saw them.”

“I saw them pulling out of the driveway once”, Robin said. “But I’m not entirely sold.”

“On my parents?”, Steve questioned.

“I’m like 90% sure that was a hoax. I think pulleys were involved.”

“You guys are insane. I have parents. And there’s photographic proof. Eddie was here when they left.”

“Like Robin, I’m also not entirely sold”, Eddie said, putting the frame back. “Those could’ve been actors.”

“Why would I hire people to pretend to be my parents?”

“Because you're a Cabbage Patch Kid”, Eddie surmised.

Nancy snorted up some of her drink while Argyle simply nodded in understanding. “That explains so much man…”

“I have a birth certificate!”, Steve exclaimed.

“Just like a Cabbage Patch baby would”, Robin pointed out.

Jonathan easily slung an arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’d like you even if you were a turnip baby.”

Robin grinned. “With his head it’s more like a pumpkin baby.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Steve had been in the middle of deciding how he felt about what Jonathan had just said and whether or not it was true and why that even mattered when Robin made her comment.

“Your head is like a square dude”, Argyle said.

“Oh my god, it is”, Nancy said like the answers of the universe had been brought to her.

“Are you guys high? Is that what this is?”, Steve asked as he looked all around them.

“I’d kiss your pumpkin head too”, Jonathan said, giving Steve’s temple a kiss.

“I gotta take a leak”, Eddie said, making his way around some game pieces and heading to the bathroom.

If Steve ever felt insecure about his appearance, Eddie would’ve kissed that square head of his until he ran out of breath. He couldn’t really begrudge Jonathan since he was pretty much doing that, if a bit reserved since they were all hanging out together. When he and Steve were alone, they were probably less restrained. Probably had their hands all over each other and kissing more than just foreheads.

Eddie let out a breath and then looked down. He bit down on his knuckles. He really had went to the bathroom to piss but now he had a different problem. Turns out thinking of pretty boys kissing wasn’t conducive to NOT getting an erection. Eddie washed his hands and tucked himself away, giving himself a moment to calm down.

There were other fish in the sea. Especially compared to the very small pond that was Hawkins. He wasn’t gonna get hung up on whatever Jonathan Byers and Steve Harrington were getting up to. He was better than that. Eddie opened the door and immediately got a face full of Jonathan.

“Whoa!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I was just coming to check on you. Steve said I should, in case you get lost and I’m only now just realizing that was a joke.” The Harrington house was big but not that big.

“Yeah it was a joke”, Steve said, coming down the hall to retrieve his boyfriend.

“Don’t take it too hard Byers, Stevie here has a wit drier than a cracker”, Eddie said, giving Jonathan’s shoulder a pat.

“If that’s another jab at the shape of my head-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it my liege”, Eddie bowed with his head and moved past Jonathan to get back to the others.

Once they were behind him, he looked down real quick just to make sure his little buddy wasn’t trying to make an entrance and thankfully, it was gone. Eddie was wringing his hands as he got back to the others. That had been a close call. He really needed to reign it in when it came to those two. Eddie had thought he only needed to get over Steve but one of Wayne’s comments made him realize that Jonathan was easy on the eyes too.

Just his luck to have a crush on two guys who were all wrapped up in each other. Eddie was about to excuse himself for the evening, unable to take much more when in his hand-wringing, he realized he forgot to put one of his rings back on. He had taken them off to wash his hands and had gotten all but one back. It must still be on the sink.

Eddie turned heel to get it, making his way back to the bathroom. He was kind of hoping neither Steve nor Jonathan were using it because it’d be a little embarrassing to ask them to pass it to him while they were on the toilet but he might have to.

The next few moments felt like they were in slow motion.

Because Jonathan had Steve pressed against the door as he was kissing him.

Eddie felt like time was moving through syrup. He’s had his feelings hurt before. He’d been turned on before. Never had it happened at the same time. There was a whirlwind brewing inside him and reaching a point where it was about to burst forth. He stumbled backward, grabbing their attention. He could only take their eyes for about 2 seconds before he was bolting from the hallway.

Had somebody called his name? Probably. He had rushed from the hall and right through the door to get outside. Anyone who saw would think he had an angry mob on his tail. Eddie got to his van and drove off, not giving a thought to where he was going beyond ‘away from here’.

He did eventually stop, on a dark street corner somewhere. He really didn’t want to go back to Wayne like this. And there was no way he was going back to Steve’s house. Eddie knew eventually he’d have to make a choice, but for now, he turned off the van and moved to the back where he always kept an extra blanket and pillow. There was one thing he was good at and it was moping in the darkness.

Part 6

Tag Team

@freddykicksasses

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #stonathan #steddie #steddathan

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wiverly · 2 years

Text

100% canonical that Shanks still believes children are found in the treasure chests, a bit like the story of cabbages and storks. For some reason this is all Roger's fault, as always...

And I'm also certain that there was a conversation with Luffy that went something like this:

Luffy: Shanks, Grandpa told me babies are brought by storks, but I know that's not true.

Shanks: Yes, you are right. Sit down, the time has come for you to know the truth.

Red Haired Pirates & Makino: NO!

Shanks: Children are found in the treasure chests.

Luffy: Really? So cool!

Red Haired Pirates & Makino: *sigh of relief*

After Luffy is gone.

Yasopp: For a moment I almost thought you wanted to tell him the truth.

Shanks: What are you talking about?

Punch: Of the children's story, Boss.

Roux: Yeah, I don't really know how you came up with the treasure chest story so quickly.

Gab: The Captain is fantastic, always full of imagination!

Shanks: Guys... wait... you don't know that children are found in the treasure chests?

Snake: Wait... you mean...

Limejuice: You really believe it?

Hongou: Are you kidding, aren't you?

Shanks: Guys, this is how I was found.

Red Haired Pirates & Makino: *shocked silence*

Beckman: Oh God...

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sleepy-gee · 3 months

Text

ache - hanahaki!coriolanus snow/sejanus plinth

is it pain, or is it love? he can't tell anymore. all he wants is the antidote.

a/n: these bitches live rent free in my head. also listen to cherry waves by deftones while writing a big chunk of this so listen to that for better vibes while reading <3

word count: 2.2k

trigger warnings: emetophobia (descriptions and depictions), blood, injuries, illness, cliffhanger ending

It started as a small scratch in the back of his throat, an annoying itch that brought up the constant urge to clear his throat. It brought a rasp with it, making him sound slightly more gruff and intimidating than he normally did- There's an upside to everything, right?

The scratch persisted after a few days, developing into a full-blown cough. Great. Another thing he had to hide in class, along with the rumbling of his stomach and his headaches, while also paying close attention to every lecture given. The boy had refilled his bottle of water more times than he could count, hoping it would help soothe his throat somewhat.

Tigris suggested he take a day off and stay home, but like that would do him any good- If he wants that prize, he has to be there every day. He's gone in with worse, ghastly flu's and killer migraines. It'll all be worth it in the end.

“You look miserable, though.” She pointed out one day, sliding a bowl of her famous cabbage stew in front of him.

Coriolanus stirred the mixture, bored of the conversation already. “It's just a cough and run-of-the-mill stress.”

“You know that's not what I mean.” Tigris sat down beside him with her own bowl. “You look like you've got the flu again.” She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “Something worse than that, even.”

Coriolanus nearly flinched away from the touch. He was so out of it nowadays. “If.. If it persists, I'll see about perhaps getting it checked out.” They both knew they couldn’t afford it, but hey, a kid can dream, right? The Plinth's do owe him a few favors.. And they'd never tell. They were too kind.. It was a risk, but so was his health.

He knew Tigris wasn't completely satisfied with that answer, but it was the best he’d offer her. Beggars can’t be choosers. “Fine.”

ii.

Coriolanus began to worry himself when he started to cough up blood. The first time, he played it off as sinus irritation of some sort, but when he found himself coughing up more blood than phlegm or spit, that's when he realized it was something.

The coughing fits got longer, too, triggering his gag reflex. God, he hated it. The feeling of acid forcing its way up his throat, the shakiness it brought to his limbs. He wasn't weak, per se, just already malnourished, and not being able to keep anything down certainly didn’t help.

He'd have to excuse himself from class at least once a day and bolt down the seemingly endless marble hallways of the Academy just to make it to the bathrooms in time, not even making it to the stalls a handful of times. Blood rinses off porcelain fairly quickly, thankfully.

His mind raced with possibilities. Could this be a stomach bug of some kind? A strange flu? Something entirely different? Maybe he should get it checked out, but he'd have to be subtle when he asked for aid.

The Plinth's. Sejanus.That made his stomach churn, and his throat close up. Breakfast threatened to resurface as he thought of the Plinth boy. They were neither friend nor foe, just two students going about their days who sat next to each other- That's what Coriolanus thought, at least. Sejanus was attached like a puppy. It was endearing in a way. Pathetic in another. He showed the boy basic human kindness and got worshiped in return. It kept his ego well-fed, which was nice, considering he was starved in all other areas.

An elbow nudged his own. Speak of the devil. “You alright there? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Sejanus asked him innocently. Shit.

Coriolanus nodded, swallowing thickly. Here comes more. “Just fine.. Please excuse me.”

iii.

Seeing a regular doctor would do him no good, he deduced as he stared at the blood-stained petal in the palm of his hand. When the hell did he manage to eat a flower? It wasn't a rose petal. He knew the shape and texture of roses like the back of his hand. Was Tigris slipping new ingredients into their meals, and he just hadn’t realized it yet?

He could worry about whatever the hell that was later, for now, he had another handful of lectures to attend to. Tigris had once again begged him to stay home- He had never missed a day in his life, the Academy would understand- but anything less than perfection was out of the question.

Maybe he was pushing it a bit. The constant purging caused him to lose a lot of his strength. Was his hearing always that fuzzy?

Between the hunger pangs and the newfound difficulty breathing, his focus was slipping, too. He needed some sort of medical intervention, but his pride got in the way. Medical intervention also meant getting a loan, and the only rich kid who seemed to like him was Sejanus.

That funny fluttering feeling again. He'd gotten better at suppressing the random gagging, finding it second nature. The scratching got worse, too, borderline painful. Like vines were clawing their way up his throat. Maybe there were some back there, given as there was a flower this morning.

Others noticed his deteriorating state, too. He could tell by the way they stared at him- Most judging, others scanning for information that could be constructed into gossip later. He wanted attention, but not this kind. The only one who actually said anything kind was Sejanus.

The last person he wanted to see. And funnily enough, the one person who made the ache a little better.

Sejanus lived the life Coriolanus deserved. The one that was owed to him by birth. He should hate him.

So why did his heart nearly stop when Sejanus grabbed his arm to stable him in the hallways after he had nearly collapsed from exhaustion?

Why do the little comments he makes have the biggest impact?

iv.

Two months. He's coughing up bunches of flowers now. Carnations, primarily. Some babies breath. A mocking white rose here and there. It's painful. His throat feels torn up beyond belief, lungs never able to gulp down enough air and stomach barely able to keep in whatever he manages to scarf down.

He can't keep going like this. He needs some sort of intervention.

A doctor's visit is too risky. He doesn't need to be known as some sort of freak, harboring a new disease. Maybe a florist? The idea makes him laugh. He has enough for the main pieces of an arrangement. Maybe he'll start spewing leather leaf and eucalyptus, then he'll be able to complete it. What a hilariously morbid thought. It wouldn't look half bad.

There's only one doctor who's crazy enough to possibly understand this, and it's a horrible option, but it's the best he's got- Dr. Gaul. How would he even approach this? “Hello, Dr. Gaul. May I bother you for a moment? I’m purging flowers.” Maybe he had just finally lost it.

If it persisted, he’d go, he told himself. Just another day or two. This was the last thing he needed, especially with exam season right around the corner. He'd lost so much valuable study time because of this goddamn disease. His grades were slipping, too. Not enough to relinquish his position as the top student, but just enough to cause his professors to pull him to the side, and Sejanus, too, the doting idiot that he was.

“I know you're saying you're fine, but I can see it in your face. You're not.” Sejanus said one day. “You look nearly as pale as your hair, and your uniform looks loose on you.”

“Your concern is flattering.” Coriolanus said, not turning away from his locker yet. Damn textbook refused to come out. Maybe it held too much. “But I can promise you, I'm just fine. Snow’s honor.”

“It's not the worst thing in the world to have someone care about you, and to accept it, y’know?” He asked with his district drawl. Why was his heart fluttering?

As much as he hated to admit it, Sejanus was right. His help, he could accept. When the other was nearby, it felt a little easier to breathe and think, his own personal painkiller. Coriolanus couldn't explain why, but the relief he felt overode his curiosity. Maybe he'd have to keep him around more often and sit closer to him in their shared classes. He wasn't awful company.

Coriolanus turned his head to look at the boy, and his world turned upside down. The black dots at the edge of his vision extended their phantom arms and pulled him down into the abyss. He was barely able to register his body hitting the ground.

When he was able to finally swim his way out of the inky abyss back into consciousness, he found himself in Dr. Gaul's office. Maybe this was the universe's way of telling him to get help for once.

He found himself lying on a surprisingly lush bed, in a dimly lit room, sheets soft as silk and pillow so plush he thought it was made of clouds. He nearly groaned with relief as he rolled over. At least his bones could rest. He couldn't day the same for his organs, which felt like they were being torn apart and rearranged with every movement he made.

"Mr. Snow", the Gamemaker' voice echoed from the end of the hallway. The sound of stilettos hitting the ground followed. How annoying. "You've found yourself in an interesting situation."

"Tell me about it." He wanted to say, but even moving his tongue the slightest made him feel nauseous.

"Hanahaki, we call it. The disease of love. Flowers grow in the lungs, squeezing the life out of you one vine at a time." Dr. Gaul said. "Makes you wish the butterflies in your stomach thing were real, hm? Sounds a lot more preferable."

"Love?" Coriolanus swallowed thickly. Love?

"Love. Unrequited.. Or at least, that's what's thought."

Love was the cause of it? Really? That was just pathetic, really. “I don't love many.”

“That's what you think.” Dr. Gaul switched on the lights, causing Coriolanus to squint. They were obnoxiously bright. “The sooner you admit it to yourself, the sooner we can get you feeling better. In the meantime, we have medication that should help the flowers shrivel up in your poor lungs. It won't dispose of them completely, but..” She handed him a pill bottle.

Coriolanus eyed the bottle carefully before unscrewing the lid and popping two into his mouth. He barely managed to swallow it before an onslaught of carnations nearly as red as his blood spewed from his lips, falling into the trash can conveniently in front of him. “.. I may have failed to mention that one of the side effects is instantaneous nausea. It's still in your system, don't worry.”

Coriolanus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, careful not to stain his precious school uniform with any of the miserable fluids. "What will cause it to disappear completely?"

"Having the feelings requited, of course. Better fix yourself up quick, you have a guest." The doctor taunted before leaving the room, dimming the lights slightly on her way out. Thank God.

A few moments later, a distressed Sejanus came rushing into the room, looking almost as pale as his classmate. "Coryo?"

"Hey." He attempted a grin. It looked more like a grimace.

"Woo.. Thank God you're okay." He kneeled by Coriolanus' bedside. "You had me worried there. Your skin went all pale and.. You collapsed. Coughed up some blood. Did she say what it was? Are you okay?" It was pure word vomit. The fluttering feeling returned in his heart.

"Yeah.. I know what it is. She gave me some medication." Coriolanus shook the pill bottle, not willing to offer any more information.

"Well, what is it? If I can ask." Of course he would ask.

".. Some silly disease."

Sejanus didn't skip a beat. "Is it curable?"

".. She says so, but between you and me? I don't trust her word on anything regarding this."

"I don't blame you, Coryo." Sejanus pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped away a strand of drying blood/saliva that sat by Coriolanus' lips. The gesture made the flowers threaten to resurface. "What has she said?"

Coriolanus found himself leaning into the lingering touch against his will. ".. You won't believe me."

"Try me. I saw what I believe was a cross-hybrid between a lady bird and hedgehog." Sejanus snorted, bringing a smile to the others' lips.

".. Unrequited love."

vi.

After a grueling few hours of recovery, he was dismissed to glass, Dr. Gaul having granted him a full pardon like he was a criminal or something. Sejanus greeted him outside of the class, making sure to pay him special attention. The boy became his confidante for everything involving the disease. Somehow, it felt easier to talk to Sejanus about it. About everything, actually. He should've given the boy a chance earlier. He had a nice smile. And a nice laugh.

The vines in his lungs constricted. And that's when it hit him.

#fanfiction #the hunger games #thg #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #snowjanus #coriolanus x sejanus #mlm #hanahaki #pre canon

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