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#i could probably add more last names tbh
puppyluver256 · 3 months
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good morning and marcy crimble i just woke up to some Nonsense
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thecreelhouse · 2 months
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pin back in the grenade
Paring: Steve Harrington x AFAB reader
Word count: 6k+
CW/tags: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, post s4, mentions of wounds/blood/etc., fluff, PiV unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), somno if you squint (tbh not really but just to be safe gonna add that one), light dirty talk. title is from ‘liar’ by paramore. MDNI
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request from this post (that was supposed to be a blurb and I am so sorry): 🩹  tending to each other's wounds, 🍯  friends to lovers, 🔥  slow burn, 🛏 only one bed
also combining this with a request I got back after s4 part 2 dropped (to that anon, I am REALLY sorry lmao) for post s4 comfort sex w/ Steve. anyway, hope y’all enjoy <3
“Do you get a new freckle every day?”
Steve’s brows crinkle together while he laughs wearily. “Huh?”
You’re cleaning the wound around his neck and can’t help noticing just how many freckles and moles he has across his body. Or, from what you can see, at least. He has his shirt off while you’re tending to his injuries from the Upside Down and Vecna’s destruction across Hawkins.
Over the last several years, Steve’s normally vacant house became a safe haven for disasters like these, also a place where the kids could be together to just hang out on the quiet, normal days. He never said it, but he loved hearing the kids laughing and yelling, sometimes having movie nights, or playing DnD; it was a welcomed sound compared to the painful quiet he had grown used to for the majority of his life. 
Tonight, no inside jokes and endearing name calling echoed throughout the house. No fighting over which movie to play first, or what kind of pizza to order, or the shouting and cheering that usually came along with playing their favorite game. If anything, there were somber conversations, softly echoing through the house, with words and emotions no kid should have to be worried about. Sometimes there was crying, or complete silence, where the only thing Steve could hear was the faint, yet now permanent ringing in his ears he had gained over the last several years. Any which way a sound like these carried through the house, it broke his heart.
So, you try distracting him as the two of you clean one another’s wounds for yet another night. You keep things light where possible, but the both of you know it’s only a bandaid over a permanent emotional scar that is torn open time and time again. The physical wounds always heal, but the heartbreak you’ve all grown accustomed to is one that weighs so heavy on everyone’s hearts, and you can’t imagine it vanishing anytime soon.
“Yeah, I swear, it’s like you’re magically turning into a connect the dots picture, or something.” Steve smiles, laughing softly through his nose at your corny attempt to keep his mind off of the trauma.
“You think so? Maybe one of these days you should come up with a drawing out of ‘em.” Steve’s trying his hardest to keep things lighthearted, too, but sometimes it’s just easier to feel the pain instead of forcing any positivity.
“Jesus, this is gnarly.” You murmur, still amazed by the damage Steve took this time around as you’re softly swiping some kind of medicated ointment along the open wound. He hisses from the dull sting, but the substance begins to numb the ache and inflammation, bringing some sort of relief, if any at all. “Do you feel like a greasy slug when you use this stuff? Because I definitely feel like a greasy slug when I use it.”
Neither of you had figured out the best way to dress the wound around his neck, so Steve had been changing clean t-shirts like bandages every few hours. The others, at least, were relatively easy to clean and dress, but they seemed to be deeper; Steve probably needed stitches on some, but he refused to go to the hospital, insisting other people in town had worse injuries, and needed the medical attention more.
“I mean, I feel slimy… but not like a slug— Jesus, how much sleep did you get last night?” At first, you think he’s asking because of your silly remark, but then he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb gently rubbing along your cheekbone, getting a better look at the dark circles draped under your eyes. You push aside the butterflies in your stomach from his touch as you reach for his clean shirt, moving his arms out in front of you to roll the fabric down and over his arms and head. For a moment, you miss his touch, but it’s back on your face after he adjusts his shirt.
“Seriously, are you sleeping at all?” He asks softly, eyes filled with worry. Leave it to Steve to worry about everyone else before himself. 
You shrug as you look away, not wanting to make a big fuss. “Last night was just rough up here,” You poke at your temple. “That’s all. I’m sure I’ll be able to sleep easily tonight with how tired I am.”
“Where’d you sleep last night?” He asks, knowing decent spots to sleep were limited now that the all of the kids were reunited again. Everyone, except Max who was at the hospital, and Lucas, who refused to leave her side. Still, there were only so many places to rest for the entire group, even in a roomy house like Steve’s.
“Um… well, some of the kids had the pullout couch, one took a recliner, Robin has the guest room, and Jonathan and Nancy have your parents’ room… so I slept on the floor in the living room.” You shrug, but you know that contributed to the lack of sleep, and extra aches in your back. How you ever easily slept on the floor as a kid during sleepovers, you’ll never understand.
Steve looks bothered by this, letting go of your face as you move to the faucet to wash your hands. “What? Why didn’t you say something? You could’ve had my bed.”
You scoff a laugh out, “Steve, you need a real bed after everything you’ve been through. I can handle the floor like a big kid.”
“Okay, well, tonight you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the floor, I don’t mind. Or I can sleep downstairs somewhere if you want sp—”
You shake your head wildly. “Don’t- I don’t wanna be alone again.” You maneuver around Steve as he slides off the counter, and you take his spot to let him tend to your wounds next. Finally, you confess, “I fell asleep once, and it was just one giant nightmare. I stayed up after that. Didn’t want to see that shit again.”
Steve washes his hands, lips pursed and brows furrowed as he keeps quiet for a moment, thinking. The two of you always trusted one another, always came to one another whenever you needed, so why the hell were you isolating yourself now?
“Next time, tell me. Wake me up. I don’t care.” Steve’s tone is firm, but he’s not upset with you. Just upset that you’re retreating into yourself when he just wants to help. 
He starts peeling off the butterfly bandages around the slit skimming vertically down your eye. It begins just above your eyebrow, running down to your brow bone, pausing across your eye before continuing just under your lash line, finishing off past your cheekbone. Instinctually, your eye begins to squint closed, but the action tugs at your skin, stinging along the edge of your wound. 
“Steve, you haven’t had a good night’s sleep since high school. Why would I wake you up when you need the rest?” He starts cleaning the wound, sighing to pause himself, think carefully about what he wants to say next. You keep going. “I actually did come in last night, but you were sound asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up, not when you need the rest.”
“Close your eye for a second.” You do, appearing as if you’re failing an attempt at winking. Steve’s gently patting the cut with some sort of medical disinfectant on a cotton ball, heart aching little by little as you whimper in pain. You try keeping quiet, knowing your wounds are nothing compared to his. “You can cry you know. Or curse. Or yell. Or whatever. Stop trying to hide it.”
“Mine are like… paper cuts compared to yours.” He pats the wound dry with a new piece of cotton, sighing again. “What?”
“You don’t have to hide your pain from me. I’m not sure if you’re worried its a burden to anyone, or whatever, but you never hid from me before. What happened?” Steve begins to apply clean butterfly bandages along the deep slit in your skin. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to your lips, and you have to remind yourself your other face wound is a split in your lip. “Gotta get that next.”
“I can do it.”
“Nope, if you’re gonna nurse all of my wounds, it’s only fair if I do that for you in return.”
“Steve, you don’t have to—”
“No, but I want to. You’re my best friend, and you’ve been patching up my wounds since we were reckless little shits on the playground. You care about me, let me care about you.” His thumb gently presses on the untouched side of your bottom lip, holding it steady so he can begin fixing that one up, too. You’re too aware of how the pad of his thumb feels against your lip, wondering what it’d be like to wrap your lips around it and take him into your mouth.
“See, this is why I gotta hold your lip, you’re so twitchy.” Steve teases, unaware of why your bottom lip trembles every now and then when he’s so close. Is he really that clueless? “After this, you’re sleeping in my bed. I’ll carry you and lock you in my room if it means you’re gonna sleep like a normal person tonight.”
Your skin prickles and hair stands on end at his words. He really has no idea what he does to you with silly comments like these.
“Okay, but like…. What if I have to pee in the middle of the night?”
Steve stops his movements, snorting as his eyes close while a smile graces his features. With a shrug, he simply answers, “Hold it.”
Your jaw drops, feigning offense. “That’s fucked up, Steven.”
“So is sleeping on the floor instead of a bed.”
“You need it more than me!”
“Will you shut up for like, ten seconds? I’m almost done with this.” He’s stifling his own laughter, before murmuring, “Not gonna lie, you’re gonna look so badass when these are healed.”
“Pfffft. Maybe, but no one’s gonna be attracted to this mess.” You’re only joking, but Steve frowns as he applies petroleum jelly to your lips, generous on your cut. 
“What? No fucking way. You’re still a babe.”
“Yeah, okay, Steve. No one’s gonna kiss me after this.” You chuckle, but notice the way his eyes flicker to your lips again, lingering longer than usual, then back to your eyes. His gaze is mesmerizing, with the warm brown color and hazel undertones, you can’t bring yourself to look away. 
“I mean, I w—”
“Hey, St— oh,” Robin’s in the doorway of the bathroom, smirking at the two of you. “Am I interrupting something?” You lean back, fingers curled around the edge of the counter while Steve’s standing up straight, taking a step back from you as he clears his throat.
“N- no, we were just fixing each other up.” Steve nervously spits out, adding a shrug like everything’s cool. 
“Right. Sure you were.” Robin teases. You want to shrink into yourself and completely disappear on the spot. “Where’s the box of movies you stole from work?”
You quirk a brow at her question, then look back at Steve. “You did what?”
“Shut it— I didn’t— I borrowed them. Robin, stop spreading rumors about me.”
“Fine. Sure. You “borrowed” them,” She flashes air quotes with her fingers, and you laugh. “Where are they? The kids are driving me up a wall trying to find them.”
Steve looks puzzled, chuckling. “They’re literally right next to the damn TV. Dustin should know that by now.”
She rolls her eyes, “Oh my god,” she turns out of the room yelling down the stairs, “Dustin! Get your shit together, man!” Before walking away, she glances at the two of you again with a smirk, “Have fun playing doctor, or whatever.”
“Leave.” Steve points out the door as Robin’s already leaving.
“Yeah, you showed her.” You tease Steve, trying to let go of what he was about to say before Robin barged in. You’re sliding off of the counter, and Steve playfully pushes your shoulders from behind, forcing you out of the bathroom.
“Alright, smart ass, let’s go.” He nudges you across the hall to his room, but you try turning away. Swiftly, he turns you back towards the door. “I wasn’t kidding, I’ll throw you over my shoulder if it means getting you to sleep in a bed.” He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders, pushing you through the doorway comically.
“Steve, if you wanted me in your bed so bad, all you have to do is ask nicely.” You’re not even trying to be coy or flirt, but it makes him choke on air. You spin around quickly, “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I— wrong pipe.” He rasps out, clearing his throat. You don’t buy it, realizing your lazy joke was the reason for his coughing fit. Still, you let it go, not wanting to embarrass him. Steve continues clearing his throat as he pulls some old blankets out of his closet, and some pillows from his bed to lay out on the floor.
“Stay in your bed, I’ll take the floor, it’s fine.” You’re trying one more time, hoping he’ll stop being so stubborn and sleep in his fucking bed. 
“Why are you so damn stubborn?” He wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up off the floor slightly, carrying you a few feet over before dropping you into his bed. 
“I was just thinking the same about you.” You murmur, arms crossed as you look at the bed behind you. You realize how big it is, and have an idea. “If you won’t let me sleep on the floor, just sleep next to me. There’s plenty of room for the both of us anyway.”
“Sleep— sl— next to you? Same bed?” Steve’s voice cracks, pulling giggles out of you. 
“Yes, Steve. Same bed. Unless you’ve got another one hiding around here.” You’re surprised you’re even suggesting this when the idea makes you incredibly nervous, but you need sleep, and Steve needs sleep, and you’re out of any other ideas. “If you want it to yourself though, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No- I- stop it, I’m gonna sleep on the floor, and that’s final.” His hands are on his hips, his signature, go-to move when he’s scolding the kids, but you’ve qualified for its appearance tonight, too. You rise to your knees on the bed, hitting eye level with him while you mirror him, hands falling to your hips in the same pose he has. 
Steve isn’t having it, and before you can start verbally teasing him, he’s pushing you back into bed. You catch yourself on your hands as you stumble back onto the pillows. “I’m gonna superglue you to the bed.”
“Now you’re just being a child.”
“Me? You were just—” Steve sighs, hand dragging over his face. “Just go to sleep.”
“I don’t want to!” Your bottom lip is wobbling as your bloodshot eyes tear up ever so slightly; you’re doing all you can to hold them back, reminding yourself logically this isn’t that serious, but your emotions show otherwise.
If anyone else in any normal circumstances yelled this, they’d be deemed childish. You, on the other hand, you’re yelling this for perfectly valid reasons. And Steve knows what you’re feeling all too well. One more time, his heart breaks for you, watching the panic spread across your sleep deprived face.
“I don’t want to sleep, I don’t want to watch you get hurt over and over again in my nightmares. I’ve seen that too many times in real life, it’s sickening watching you get beaten to death time and time again… and I just— fuck. Steve, just take the fucking bed. Please? I don’t want to sleep, and you need it more than me, I really don’t mind the fl—”
Steve sits next to you and pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly against him. That’s when the floodgates finally break. You grip onto his shirt, balling the fabric into your fists as you begin crying on his shoulder.
“M’not going anywhere. Promise. You’re safe, I’m safe, everyone’s okay.” You know that’s not completely truthful; Max is hanging on by a thread in the hospital, and Eddie’s gone. Steve knows this, but right now his concern is getting you to finally fall asleep. “C’mon, you’ll feel better if you lay down.” You expect Steve to gently nudge you to the pillows alone, but he keeps his hold on you, carefully laying the both of you down. “You sure you’re okay with me staying in bed?” You nod against his shoulder, wrapping yourself around him as if that’ll anchor him here for good. 
“Don’t go,” You’re mumbling into the fabric of his shirt, wanting to tug yourself closer to him, hang onto him like a clingy koala, but you’re trying to stay mindful of his injuries. 
“Not going anywhere.” Steve whispers, kissing the top of your head before lingering for a moment. “Not going anywhere without you.” Neither of you untangle from one another, and Steve’s embrace is starting to calm you down to steadier breathing and shaky hiccups instead of heavy crying filled with anxiety and dread. With your body desperate for rest and the security you feel with Steve, it doesn’t take long for sleep to pull you in. Steve’s snoring softly shortly after you fall asleep.
———
At some point in the night, the two of you untangle, rolling to opposite sides of the bed. Steve’s woken up by movement, strange shifting in the bed next to him, and an airy whimper, just loud enough for him to hear. He rubs his eyes, turning over and sees your figure, facing away from him, remembering that the two of you fell asleep in his bed. 
Steve’s not sure what time it is, nor does he really care, especially not after hearing another soft noise float from your parted lips. Trying to adjust to the dark surroundings, despite the weak glow from a night light plugged in, he stares at you, or what he can see, at least, worried you’re having another nightmare. He moves closer and leans over you, prepared to wake you up and give comfort if you need, but you don’t look scared. If anything, you look pained, frustrated; Steve’s eyes scan down your figure as you move again, noticing the way your hips roll forward against your own hand.
Holy shit.
Frozen, he can’t take his gaze off of you. He needs to. He should roll back over and force himself back to sleep, pretend he never heard anything, never saw you—
“Steve…” You murmur, languidly grinding against the heel of your palm, face buried into the pillow as you writhe under his imaginary touch. His mind starts spiraling.
That’s why you got nervous when he held your lip, or when you mentioned how with a lip scar inevitable in the near future, no one would want to kiss you, and the way the two of you couldn’t take your eyes off of one another. How you looked so mortified when Robin walked in, forcing the two of you apart. He begins to realize how this isn’t new, this has been going on for awhile, and he can’t believe how oblivious he’s been.
The signs have always been in your lingering touches, when you lock eyes with him and share knowing glances no one else would understand, the way you’ve always tried protecting him, or tending to his now routinely scheduled injuries whenever he’s caught up in anything related to the Upside Down. It’s always been in the way you’d give up your comfort for him, how you’d never complain if he woke you up from nightmares, calling at three in the morning. 
How it’s an unspoken pact between the two of you to share your fries with one another, or when one falls asleep early during movie nights, the other thoughtfully covers them in a blanket, letting them rest. How you always keep extra medical supplies in your car just for Steve’s clumsy ass. How he’s sneaking you video tapes for free whenever you visit him at work. How you insist on calling him exactly at midnight on his birthday. 
You’d drop everything in an instant for Steve, and he’d do the same for you without hesitation. Whenever he tries to put your needs first, you’re quick to point out that someone needs to care about him, too.
Steve can’t believe how clueless he’s been, and out of all the times he’s figuring this out, it’s now, while you’re having a wet dream about him. Because of fucking course it would hit him now.
While his thoughts ran in a million different directions at once, he wasn’t aware of how hard he became, hearing your cute little noises, and how he’s still pressed right against you from behind. Does he let you continue? Does he wake you up? If he does, what’s his excuse? Lie and say it was a nightmare? Or tell you the truth, risking ruining something before it could ever begin, embarrassing you on the spot?
Without warning, you turn over, still asleep as your arms slip around his torso loosely, as if you’re still trying to be careful with his wounds while knocked out. One of your legs slot between his, and Steve has to bite back a groan at the pressure against his bulge. As if that alone wasn’t threatening to make him fall apart, your hips begin moving lazily again against his leg, and he can feel your sticky heat on his skin through your sleep shorts. Steve’s about to lose his fucking mind.
“Stevie, wanna make y’feel good…” You’re still asleep as you murmur this. Steve knew you talked in your sleep, but never like this. He can’t take it anymore. One hand ends up on the hip facing away from the bed, while the other is drawn to your neck, curling to the back to hold you gently as his fingers slide up into your hair. 
“Wanna make you feel good too, angel.” He’s guiding you slowly along his thigh, tensing up underneath you; he’s not sure how to wake you up without startling you, and he doesn’t want the building desire to end so soon. 
In time with his thoughts, you begin to stir, eyes fluttering open. You blink a couple times, then Steve nudges against your core again, and you keen, throwing your head back into his hand already waiting for you.
“Oh- oh, fuck, oh my god…” You’re growing aware of the situation, realizing your dream is becoming reality so seamlessly. You’re embarrassed, you want to hide away and apologize, but Steve rubs himself against the leg you have pressed against him, releasing a throaty groan; the embarrassment falls away, fast. “St- Steve?”
“Yeah?” He’s trying not to pant this soon, trying not to sound so breathy and needy already.
“M’sorry, I- I didn’t realize that I—”
Steve shushes you softly, bringing your face closer to his as he leans in, noses touching while you’re both making the sweetest noises together. “I can stop, if you want. I- I shouldn’t just assume you want this, maybe it was a silly dream—”
“No, it wasn’t… I really want you, Steve.” Your hands test the waters, sliding up his body, but only over his shirt, before holding his face; your gaze locks with his, and despite the dim glow in the room, you can see the lust ridden look he’s giving you while nodding wordlessly to give his consent. You lean in to kiss him, lips touching ever so slightly; you freeze as self doubt sets in, but he senses it, and kisses you back fully, mindful of your split lip. 
It’s slow, almost too slow for you and how wound up you are from the dream, but you do your best to stay patient. Steve’s hand on your hip sneaks under your shirt, just enough that the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, just beneath the hem. The hand cradling the back of your head moves to your jaw, fingers splaying out to get a better hold on you when his lips part against yours. You make some kind of small noise, a muffled yelp that slips into Steve’s mouth when his tongue slips into yours. Distracted by the kiss, your hips stopped rolling, so Steve begins guiding you along his thigh again.
A moan shudders out of you as you pull back to catch your breath. Steve can’t take his eyes off of you as your eyes flutter shut, head falling back as another sweet moan leaves your lips, losing yourself in the pleasure from such a simple action.
You’re not sure when, but your hands made it to Steve’s back, fists bunched up with the fabric of his shirt, not wanting to touch any part of him that might hurt, but needing to grab something. 
“Does th- this happen a lot?” He manages to ask, and in his head, he’s rolling his eyes at himself, because he wanted that to sound so much sexier than it did. You’re in a whole different world, though, already blissed out when barely anything has happened yet.
“Mhm,” You open your eyes as you answer, the burning desire low in your body growing hotter as the two of you make eye contact again. “Can I- can we— take this stupid thing off.”
Steve laughs, realizing maybe sexy isn’t what either of you need right now; being best friends already, it only makes sense that the only time the two of you can’t form coherent thoughts laced with lust would be when you’re pressed up against one another for the first time.
Pulling his hands back, he gestures to his shirt in the goofiest way, like he’s Vanna fucking White, showing off a purchased vowel. “You can’t take this seriously, can you?” You’re not mad, in fact, you’re laughing with him, and something about the two of you nervously laughing makes you more comfortable being intimate with your best friend. 
“I’m just filling in the blanks for you, angel.” He’s smirking, but he’s also trying to stifle more laughter, so it just comes out as a product of a snicker and a snort. 
“Oh, that was real cute,” You tease, reaching for his waist. “Words, words are hard.” You’re grumbling, tugging at the bottom of his t-shirt, carefully pulling it over his head.
“Yeah, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”
Whatever smart-ass retort you had ready to roll off your tongue disappears at the sight of Steve, now shirtless. It’s nothing new to you, you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but in the moment, you’re hyper aware of how different this is. There’s no going back, but if you were being honest, there was no going back once you moaned his name in your sleep.
“What?” Steve asks, laughter dying down as he watches you reach out to his torso, tracing his scars, both old and the ones just beginning to form. 
“You’re so… pretty.”
Steve blushes, a rosy red shade blooms across his face, to the tips of his ears. “I— shut up.”
You scoff, “I’m being honest!” He tugs at the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your permission, but your hands hold his back, shaking your head. Shyly, you state the obvious, “I don’t have a bra on.” Of fucking course you don’t, you never sleep in bras. Even Steve knows that, forever impressed with how you could just unhook that damn thing with one hand so casually and slip out of it, pulling it out of your shirt without ever stripping. It’d take everything in him to hold his jaw from dropping, when you just wanted out of a ridiculously uncomfortable bra.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve reassures softly, only to follow it up with, “I don’t either.”
“Alright, that’s it, I’m going back to sleep,” You tease, beginning to roll back over, but Steve grabs you quickly to roll you on top of him instead. 
“Like hell you are,” He’s tugging at your shirt again, looking up at you with those sweet doe eyes, filled with wonder and curiosity over what his best friend looks like under everything. “Don’t feel pressured to say yes. We can st—”
You’re pulling your shirt off with a determined speed, like ripping off a bandaid, throwing it on the floor. “I do not look good with these bruises.” 
Steve sits up, all humor and admiration draining from his features as he takes in all of the severe bruising you have from a few days ago. “Wh… how— why didn’t you show me? Or tell me? Fuck, I probably made some of them worse—”
“Hey, Steve, it’s okay. Seriously. I’m okay. These are nothing compared to what you ended up with.”
He shakes his head, ghosting his fingers over some of the worst bruises, blooming in the darkest shades of purple and blue he’s ever seen on someone, including himself, and that says a lot. Some are beginning to grow into that sickly yellow, even greenish color. 
“What the hell do I have to do or say to convince you that you’re allowed to show me your pain too?” He’s not sure what he’s feeling, he just wishes you said something, wishes he knew so he could care for you properly.
“There’s not much you can do for bruises, Steve.” You shrug. “M’sorry, I just wanted to put you first. You’re always caring for everyone else before yourself, and I wish you’d let someone care for you, too. I want to give you the love and care you give everyone but yourself. These mean nothing to me, I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Disappointed? From what? How you look with these? Because I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re still a babe with your face wounds, and that applies here too. You have… no fucking idea how badly I want to get my hands all over you, but I think we should stop. I don’t want to make those more painful than they already are.”
“Steve, I can handle it. I bruise like a peach, anyway.” You’re mentioning it casually, but enjoy the way he blushes at your words, clearly thinking of better reasons to be bruised. You smirk, “Feel free to tuck that fun fact away for another day.”
“I— I’ll bring that back up later.” He murmurs, trying to focus. “Anyway… are you sure?”
Rolling your eyes, you grab his hands, bringing them to your tits roughly. “Does this answer your question?”
Enthusiastically, Steve nods, fingers already toying with your nipples, breathing out, “Fuck yeah it does.” You start giggling until he latches onto one of the sensitive nubs, fingers softly pinching at the other every so often, in between grabbing a handful of you. He groans into your skin, thinking about how long he’s wanted to touch you like this, but it’s better than he imagined. 
You’re arching your back as he switches sides, a thread of spit unraveling from his lips that’s still clinging to you;  your eyes to roll back as you grind down onto his lap from just the sight alone, fingers twisting into his locks, tugging softly as he sucks, bites, soothes with his tongue, then repeats.
“I need…” You’re gasping, head falling back; Steve takes advantage of your exposed neck, kissing up your chest before leaving small, soft love bites up to your jawline. 
“You need… what?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, but you can’t take it slow anymore, you need him now. You grab his face to kiss him, and it’s a little sloppy, a little clumsy, but he leans into it anyway. The two of you find a semi perfect rhythm, one that flows with the way you continue to grind onto him. You nip his bottom lip, tugging on it before letting go, and Steve moans into you. 
“Need you, need you right now.” You’re frantically murmuring against his lips.
“We don’t have to rush.” He pulls back, searching your features for any sign that something is off, but all he sees are your lust blown pupils. “I mean, I’m not complaining, but—”
You kiss him quickly before pushing him back against the pillows, shimmying down his body, kissing his scars with care along the way, continuing down until you reach the waistband of his shorts.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Steve, quit being nice for, like, five minutes. Are you okay with this?”
With a gulp he nods, breathing heavily “I— I’m more than okay with this.”
“Thank fuck.” You tug his shorts down, almost drooling as you watch his length spring free, the rounded tip red with desire, leaking precum. “Steve, what the fuck.”
“You’re sending me so many mixed signals tonight, holy shit. Is that … is that good?”
You need to shut your mouth, mind too far in a cock-drunk daze to tease him with words. So, you run your tongue up the underside his cock, broadly, taking your time to reach the head, eyes on him the entire time. Steve yelps on contact, eyes screwing shut as his head falls against the pillow, but he pushes himself to look down at you, bucking against your tongue before you take him in completely.
“Jesus fucking Chri-iiiiiiiist,” He shudders out, hands tangling into your hair as you begin to bob up and down on him. “This… you… hhhhohmygod—”
You pull off with a pop that echoes off the walls, a sound Steve wishes he could’ve recorded to play when he gets off in the future, followed by the sight of you drooling onto his cock as it kicks with need.
“Tell me how you really feel, Steve,” You tease before taking him in again, but he holds your head in place, making you pout. “Am I doing something wrong?”
“No, no, fuck no. Your mouth feels so fucking good, angel, but I need… I…”
“Take your time, babe, it’s okay.” You tease, making Steve groan, both with annoyance and a craving for you to get mouthy, just not now. 
“Fuck me, just need you to fuck me, please baby,” He’s babbling as he tugs you back up his body, hands on your hips as you hover above his cock. “Need to feel you, angel.”
You push your shorts down and throw them to the floor with your shirt. “Yeah?” You lightly rub your core against his cock, and he bucks with a desperate whine. 
“Yes, please, please—”
Words become nonexistent as you sink down onto him slowly, walls slowly stretching around him, adjusting to his size.
“Knew you w- were big, but not like… not like this.” You’re panting, overwhelmed by the slight pain from taking him to the hilt, but the pleasure is greater, rendering your brain useless. Not a damn thing on your mind except Steve and how fucking good he feels so deep inside of you.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” Steve gasps, grip digging into your hips roughly, knowing he’s just adding to your bruises, but he’ll apologize later. “You’re so— never felt a pussy tighter than yours, angel. M’god, don’t fucking move.”
You giggle, and he glares at you. “Don’t— do not do that either, just… fucking sit there for a second, okay? I’m really not trying to blow my load this early.” You’re doing your best to keep stoic, nodding as you fold your hands and wait patiently. “Oh my god, why are you like this?”
Shrugging, you begin to reply, “Why n— oh!” Steve pulls you down to him roughly, kissing you as he begins to move, fucking you slowly from below. He guides you by the hold on your hips, bouncing you on his cock, causing your eyes to roll back as he moves a hand to the back of your head. Holding you tightly against him, your forehead rests against his as the two of you gasp and pant lewdly onto each other’s lips. You’re riding him like no one else has, to the high fucking heavens, and he swears he’s gonna die a happy man right here, underneath you.
“How often have you dreamt about this?” You shamelessly ask, sitting up and leaning back as you roll your hips, grinding down so he hits your sweet spot just right. Steve’s speechless, flexing up into you, jaw slack as your walls flutter around him. “You’re so pussy-drunk right now, huh?”
A strained “Mhm,” leaves him; he’s not even going to hide how he’s putty in your hands, right now, and as long as you’ll have him. Finally, he rasps, “Fuck, wish we did this sooner.”
“We got all the time in the world to make up for it, Stevie.” Your legs twitch and shake, signaling you’re not far off from your high, but they’re also sore still from days ago, and right now, you’re just making them hurt more. Great cause, of course, but it doesn’t dull the pain, so you’re beginning to slow down. “Fuck, my legs hurt.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” Steve pulls you back down arms wrapped around your back, one hand gripping around his other wrist, keeping you stable as he plants his feet against the bed, fucking up into you with everything he’s got. “It’s okay, angel, I’ve got ya’.” He grunts, hammering into you with so much force, you can’t help but moan loudly, almost screaming, but you bury your face into his shoulder, biting down to muffle your noises as you flutter around him. “Fuck, didn’t think you were so vocal.” At this point, you are screaming, but the noise barely leaves you as you keep your mouth on his skin.
Steve’s hips are starting to stutter, and his cock twitches, needy for release. “Good girl, don’t wanna wake up the whole house, right?” That’s the final push over the edge for you; grabbing Steve’s face, you kiss him deeply to keep quiet. The faint, metallic taste of blood works its way onto your tongue, and you realize your semi-treated split lip is split once again. You pull back, trying to keep as quiet as possible, frantically whispering, “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you—” Following you into bliss, Steve pulls you back onto his lips as he cums, filling you shamelessly as you still squeeze him, milking him for all he’s got as he’s moaning into you.
When the two of you come down, covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and hearts ready to beat out of your chests, the shame hits fast as he pulls back enough to murmur, “Fuck. I didn’t even ask—”
“Birth control is a beautiful thing, babe.” You smile down at him, breathless. Steve sighs relief, thankful for whoever the fuck created the pill. His eyes fall to your lip before thumb swiping the mess away.
“Shit, m’sorry.”
“Worth it. So fucking worth it.” You giggle before he kisses you softly. 
Pulling back, Steve reaches out to cup the side of your face, and you lean into his touch, giddy and exhausted all at once.
He’s admiring the view of you above him, softly replying to your confession, “I love you, too.” 
The two of you are basking in the afterglow of one another, beaming and holding each other tight, unable to move just yet. Steve doesn’t mind taking a second to catch his breath, but then a loud bang against his bedroom door startles the both of you.
“About fucking time!” Robin shouts from the other side before walking away. Faintly you hear her huff, “Noisy assholes.” Steve locks eyes with you, both of you stunned and embarrassed before bursting into a fit of laughter together.
“Still worth it?” Steve teases, and you shrug playfully.
“Worth what, the impending shame fest they’re gonna put us through tomorrow morning?” You lean down to kiss him again before replying against his kiss-swollen lips, “Oh, fuck yeah.”
1K notes · View notes
jelliessoap · 6 months
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price x professional baseball player! reader hcs >:]]
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male!reader mdni probably long as shit
this idea has been rotting my brain tbh idk why but it’s so !!!!!!! idk but enjoy mwahahaha ( i love this gif sm )
- would meet after the mlb hosted a game in england.
- he didn’t go, you were having a bit of a tour with your teammates and went to grab a drink after a successful game. you were sat next to him at the bar and he struck up a conversation curious about the matching symbols on your hats.
- “never seen that football team before.”
- when you chuckled at him and answered that it wasn’t football finally hearing your accent he was intrigued and your conversation blossomed from there.
- relationship wasn’t a thought for either of you, you were in complete different countries and had busy schedules. but that didn’t mean you guys didn’t wind up developing feelings as time went on
- you guys were more so friends with obvious crushes
- price started learning more about baseball ( watching your game highlights on youtube )
- couldn’t and wouldn’t tell you much about his job though he mentioned it was military. you didn’t pry too much deciding it wasn’t your place
- you decide to fly him out to watch the first playoff game after he congratulated you on making it, before you even told him might i add. he had the time and figured he could use a small get away even if to america of all places to a crowded stadium. it was worth it to see you again.
- bought your bobble head
- did not care for the game until you took the field
- had no clue what was going on but he was cheering for you
- was so excited when your team won
- met up with you after the game and said it wasn’t that interesting but you saw the shirt he bought with your teams logo on it hiding under his arm
- bonus meeting option is some sort of charity event!
now for actually dating lord
- NO. 1 SUPPORTER!!!
- still has the bobble head from the first game of your he went to. he keeps it on the desk of his study and you’ve caught him smiling at it more time than you could count
- goes to all the games of yours he can.
- you live with him in england during off season but have to move back to the US when the season starts up again.
- you both have busy schedules and unpredictable jobs that require travel and at times spontaneous trips but you manage to stay in communication
- should there be a time say when john has a mission that you can’t reach one another you agreed to write letters and exchange them once he returned
- if he can’t watch your game in person its on a tv at base, if theres no tv it’s on a radio. does he understand any of the terminology despite your countless attempts to explain? absolutely not. but his ears perk up and his attention is grabbed whenever he hears the announcer mention your name, reminding him you were still out there.
- you play worse when john is out on missions because you’re worried about him and hoping he’ll make it home unscathed.
- he noticed this watching back on base once and when he got home he wrote a sweet little encouraging note on your glove/bat
- ‘Always watching, give me a good game, slugger. Be home soon. <3 John.’
- heard the term slugger in an old baseball movie you watched together and insisted on making it your nickname
- rented out your home stadium when he proposed to you
- dugout sex
- felt real damn proud of himself when your last name on your jersey changed to price. ( or was hyphenated! )
- you better believe you’ll be rewarded after a good game
- doggy with your jersey still on
- missionary with your jersey on and open so he can rub on your chest and look you in the eyes while he plows you
- “look at their mvp, crying on my cock— what would your team say luv?” omg who wrote that!!!
- he def has a thing for your uniform. those baseball pants show off your ass perfectly
- if he ever bottomed he’d be a power bottom
- would ride you and wear one of your hats you play in or your helmet if you’re a hitter. rimjobs
- you send him dirty pics in your uniform all the time.
- pics with your jersey unbuttoned, drenched with sweat, baseball pants hanging low and your uniform coved in dirt will have him feral for you.
- he’s just a perfect little supportive hubby thh
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thesupreme316 · 3 months
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aew wrestlers x female readers and their favorite positions in bed?
darius martin, dante martin, daniel garcia, hook, action andretti, ricky starks, eddie kingston, and i know they're not in aew, but could you add drilla moloney & charlie dempsey 🙏
AEW STARS AND: Their Favorite Sex Positions (18+)
Pairings: Darius Martin X Female Reader, Dante Martin X Female Reader, Hook X Female Reader, Ricky Starks X Female Reader, Daniel Garcia X Female Reader, Action Andretti X Female Reader, Eddie Kingston X Female Reader, Swerve Strickland X Female Reader,
Word Count: 1.3K
Supreme Speaks: heyyyy (sorry for being late per usual). thanks to my tumblr bae @hooks-martin for the request (for the last two, I didn't know anything about them but I traded them for swerve). i think this is the most explicit imagine of mine so plz take it easy on me. anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated. ALSO HAPPY HOLIDAYS
Warnings: Mature content (if you are a minor, please do not read), explicit content and images, explicit language and indications
Taglist: @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @batzy-watzy @wwenhlimagines @triscillal @cassie0sstuff @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey
**All the positions and their names be referenced from this website**
Hook: Cowgirl
I can just see it
Him on his back looking up at you and admiring the view; with a smirk
BUT DON’T GET IT TWISTED
He is very much in charge
Will command how fast or slow you go; he doesn’t care about the speed….but will change it if he’s punishing you
“You can ride me a lot faster can’t you baby girl?”
If he sees you getting tired (or he is punishing you), he will just drill up into you with no mercy (you’re riding a jackhammer now)
Frequently brings you down to kiss you (Watering Can position)
Loves it when you scratch his torso; it’s like you're leaving your mark/brand
I CAN SEE HIM REACHING UP AND CHOKING YO-
Just to see you squirm a bit more, he’ll talk in Italian
Tw: google translate
“Prendilo per me tesoro, so che puoi.” (Take it for me baby, I know you can.)
Action Andretti: Bizet
Again like I have said in the past
Man’s a sweetheart but also very shy
This is the perfect position since he probably might clam up if he looks into your eyes
Not in a bad way ofc
From this position, you can’t see him blush
So he wants to be as close to you as possible
And he also wants to be able to slip in at any given chance
I think he prefers slow thrusts so you both can feel everything and take in the moment
Loves to whisper in your ear
“It’s almost like your body was built for mine”
I see him as a tits person, so he squeezes them from behind
After careful consideration, yeah my answer is still the same he is a tit person
OVERALL HE IS A SWEETHEART
Dante Martin: Reverse Cowgirl
MMMMM THIS IS MY DREAM SO EXCUSE ME FOR THE PRIVAT-
MANS IS A ASS PERSON
Smacks/gropes your ass whenever
And is a switch too idc what you say; So I think this position gives you both control in a way
If he’s the sub, you’re controlling the pace and more so focused on your pleasure by rubbing yourself
If you’re the sub, MORE ASS SMACKIN not hard or anything (he’s a soft Dom if anything)
I also believe he will pull your hair back to the point your back is on his chest (just walk with me) and he pistons into you
Is a dirty talker too
“Fuck you feel incredible. Come for me”
But tbh I see him more as a sub in bed so…he slightly whimpers and whines in my mind
Will ask you to turn around so he can see your face
Like I said prior, he’s soft so I cannot see him being harsh or rough in bed
Darius Martin: Forbidden Fruit
Teehee
Man is a giver; A GIVER I TELL YOU
Giving you pleasure to the point where all you’re doing is screaming and losing your breath?
Teehee he lives for that
“You taste amazing love”
Loves it when you are on top
Eventually, the position turns into tiramisu or you riding his face
I don’t think he’s a sub all the way but more so a switch who really wants to please you
Tell Darius what to do an he will do it with no hesitation
For an “actual” position, I think he would love the scissor position
It’s very intimate for him and it gives him access to his favorite parts of you
I also think it would be the best position as he can see your facial expressions and give you extra stimulation
Again Darius would be all for your calls and satisfaction
Ricky Starks: Oasis
LITERALLY IT’S UP HIS ALLEY
He can see everything
Tits, Ass, Face, Neck, etc.
He likes to be up close and personal with you so he can kiss you at any point
Also, it’s easy likes to motorboat you
Side note; we all know he likes to be called daddy
So yes he will be referring to himself as Daddy
“Look at you being daddy’s good girl”
Sex-wise, Ricky is a full Dom you cannot make that man into a sub
if you do, he is the brattiest sub ever
Mostly a soft Dom but will turn up the (h)eat when necessary
He just loves being in control (speed, position, etc.)
SUCH A FUCKING TEASE; will intentionally slow down just to see you whine and beg for more
I think he will also convert Oasis into the cowgirl position
Overall, don’t give Ricky too much power
Eddie Kingston: Temptation
Okay let's have a real moment (pulls up chair) This man is so selfless that it’s crazy
For the most part, I can see him as a missionary man, because of the fact that he doesn’t want you to put in work
With temptation, he can see your face and know if he’s truly giving you pleasure
It’s also the perfect position to touch all the parts of you that can give more stimulation
AND YALL CAN DO IT EVERYWHERE
Eddie is a Dom; both a hard and soft Dom
He doesn’t want to go too harsh on you (unless you want it)
Control doesn’t matter to him tbh
Will actually do anything you ask him to because he’s so hung up on pleasing you
LOVES IT WHEN YOU TOUCH HIM OR SCRATCH HIS BACK
“Touch me like that again”
Will ensure that you have more orgasms than him
Eddie is a selfless man and puts your needs over his
Daniel Garcia: Chibi
We all know that DG is a switch (man is a bratty sub let's be honest)
But more important he is an ass man
Chibi stands out the most for me to him
With the position, he can go the pace either you or he wants to go
He can also grab or smack that booty whenever
GOES CRAZY WHEN YOU MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM
I can also see him in the Nirvana position
With Nirvana, he can kiss your legs
I wouldn’t say he has a foot fetish but at the same time yeah he does
WHICH IS THE SEXIEST PART OF YOU IN HIS EYES (besides the ass)
Take the time to appreciate other parts of you
I wouldn’t say he’s a dirty talker but he’s definitely a moaner
….
Even my ass can see that and I need glasses
Swerve Strickland: Doggy Style/Downward Dog
Okay….let me dream real quick
THIS MAN? IS A HARD DOM ALL THE WAY WE ALL KNEW FROM THAT DAMN DEATHMATCH
This man is my baby daddy/sugar daddy and he wishes to be called as such
You? You’re either a slut or a princess in his eyes (I’m bot-)
Loves Doggy Style cause it gives him so much control
Will pull your hair and lean down to whisper in your ear
“You like that, don't you? Lucky for you, I could do this forever.”
Will also pull you up until your back reaches his chest
OR OR
He will put your face down further into the mattress and make you arch your back for him (Downward Dog)
Loves to smack your ass and hear your muffled screams
Will overstimulate you until you tell him to stop
AND HE WILL LOOK OVER AT YOUR PANTING AND SWEATY BODY WITH A SMILE
otay…I’m done
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lyrakanefanatic · 3 months
Text
Thoughts that I wanted to share about the brothers Hawthorne/ the grandest game bc I don’t wanna make a million posts about each one 💀
1: Phone girls dad literally shot himself ON. HER. BIRTHDAY. 😭😭
2: Skye Hawthorne MIGHT be in the grandest game, because when Avery got bombed and Ricky and skye got arrested for it, they found out that it actually wasn’t them which means they prob got out of jail (maybe not Ricky but probably skye) and she might be controlling one of the players
3: WE’LL PROBABLY GET TO SEE A SUNSHINE X GRUMPY TROPE!! (Mathias and Gigi)
4: we’ll see which 7 contestants avery will pick for the game!! (While I was writing that instead of contestants I accidentally put tributes 💀)
5: we might learn more about Toby’s backstory (or just the Hawthorne backstories in general, like Zara’s, nans or Alice’s)
6: speaking of Alice, SOMEHOW THAT OLD GRANDMAS GOING TO BE ALIVE
7: this isn’t really a prediction but more just like a possible hint for the grandest game, but when grayson tells his brothers about the riddle “what begins a bet? Not that”, Jameson says this
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He says “what’s the opposite of a handshake?” And I found a picture online that shows multiple different options of what could be the opposite of a handshake
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Basically most of the words on there kind of show “misinterpretation” or just different words for some sort of mistake, so would that mean that the “beef” (im just gonna call it that bc I don’t rlly know what went down) between tobias and thomas thomas was maybe accidental?? Or maybe they got into a disagreement that ended in thomas ending his life? All the book really shows is that one paragraph (that I highlighted in green) that talks about what Jameson thought of the riddle, and then Jameson was talking to Avery about the game (probs bc jlb didn’t wanna drop too many hints lmao) And then if you add it in with the “abet” theory ⬇️
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It said that one of the opposites of a handshake were “refusal” and “disagreement”, so what if tobias had wanted thomas to aid one of his crimes and thomas refused, and maybe tobias gave him an ultimatum which is why he shot himself?? It’s so confusing bc what would tobias even do that was so horrible that thomas had to shoot himself, I really don’t know. but if anyone has some theory’s on this pls lmk! 🫶
8: holy guacamole 7 was a long one, but anyway i feel like there are definitely more hints on the grandest game in the brothers Hawthorne then there were in the final gambit, even though in (i think tig is the one that clue was from?) the inheritance games “special” edition bc idk what their called it said “hints in the final gambit”. (although one loose end from tig was David Golding, and @riddles-n-games had a good theory about that) But i read the final gambit entirely and didn’t find a single clue other than David, so that’s kinda weird (unless somebody else found something else they found interesting in that book?)
9: Eve might also be behind one of the players, or just trying to get involved with the game so she could get the cash prize or whatever else it is that that psycho needs 🙄
10: we’ll (most likely, bc I’m 99.9% sure that she’ll be in tgg) see what phone girl looks like and see which one of us were right 😜
11: kinda random but i will bet a whole 5 dollars that phone girls name is either gonna be flower related, or just straight up be lily. Or maybe both, but just think of how ironic that would be (there are calla lilys all over the cover of tgg… 🤷‍♀️)
12: LIBBY NASH WEDDING!!! 🤭🤭🤭💗
13: so off topic but WHERE DO GRAYSON AND JAMESON GET THEIR MONEY FROM??? like I’m sure jameson probably gets some cash from his billionaire girlfriend, but what about grayson?? he says in tbh that he’s “buried in work” but what kind of work does he do?? and who does he work for?? 🤨
14: Okay this is gonna be the last one bc i need to shut up, but does anybody have an idea on what some things in the grandest game cover might symbolize? we know about the lilys and the opal rings, but other than that i CANT seem to figure out anything else on there 😭😭
and okay that’s all thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫶😊🙌
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thepunkmuppet · 7 months
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ok i just looked back through my blog and it looks like my big theory from way back last year has just… disappeared?? which i’m pretty annoyed about tbh, but i want to expand on it and update it anyway because the casting announcement and logo all validate it and make it a lot more interesting SO
my big magnus protocol theory and what i think the plot will be
so, this is a world completely without the Fears, until BAM. here they are. and with the arg, the encrypted messages and the glitchy aesthetic they seem to be going for, now further expanded on by the logo literally being a glitchy computer screen, i was thinking what if as the fears entered the universe, there was some kind of mass signal or energy surge.
imagine all the screens and electronics in the world suddenly go static, and a jumbled-up incomprehensible message (like the “statement remains” audio) can be heard everywhere, all around the world. and it goes on for around 20-30 minutes. and in those minutes, every single person in the world is fucking TERRIFIED. just frozen in absolute fear.
and of course this causes thousands and thousands of accidents and deaths and just generally terrifies everyone, so naturally every world government thinks it’s an attack of some kind. hence why we follow civil service workers, specifically those working for Incident Assessment and Response. this would be quite an incident!!
in these first few episodes following the signal, we also hear from the prime minister. and i originally thought it would be REALLY fun if the uk prime minister in this universe is the og Elias. i love this idea with all my heart for many reasons, but it doesn’t look like ben meredith will be in it, so i’ve had to modify it a bit. so, either the prime minister will be gwendolyn bouchard, who could either be a relative of elias or transfem elias (although, trans prime minister?? in this godforsaken country??) OR the tim fearon character, who could potentially be jonah magnus or a similar previously established character. but personally, i’m betting on miss gwendolyn, so keep that in mind as you read the rest of this.
and so at the end of the first or second episode, we hear this prime minister in a big meeting about the incident, and the episode ends on a cliffhanger that reveals what the unscrambled audio really was.
it’s mag 200. which is why jon and martin are (potentially) on the cast list. the fears are ushered into the universe using their voices.
but i think what would be an even cooler cliffhanger is if after this big reveal, after the tape squeals and basira says good luck, we hear something we’ve never heard before.
“oh, hello. are you still listening?”
OR
tim fearon’s voice.
so this is where the REDACTED names really come into play. idk what the actual plot will be, but my idea is that jon, martin, and the tim fearon character, who i personally think is the voice of the original jonah magnus, are:
1, stuck as “ghosts in the machine” of sorts, living on as disembodied glitchy voices and nothing more
2, are huge eldritch entities, who can speak through anything and anyone, maybe possess people, etc, and possibly act as similar entities to the fears in a way, creating their own avatars and suchlike - maybe to fight the fears in jon and martin’s cases
or 3, the fears use their voices to actually speak, probably through recordings and electronics, meaning the REDACTED isn’t just to conceal their characters, they actually just don’t have names
also this is a much smaller point but because her name and presumed age are so out of place in comparison to the rest of the cast, i think lady mowbray is a psychic or mystic woman of some kind rather than an actual noble woman, and will be able to talk to the new jon and martin, whatever they are
so yeah that’s it i guess! i hope all this makes sense, if anyone has any questions, anything to add or challenge, or just want to discuss it please please do!! i want to see what people think of this in light of all the new information because i LOVE this idea so much that if it doesn’t happen i might just write it myself lol
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nonstoplover · 2 years
Text
more moments to remember ~ pierre gasly (pg10)
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
pairing: pierre gasly x single mom!reader
summary: short stories of happy memories with pierre and his newfound little family | this is pt.2 to this fic, but it can be read as a standalone piece
words: 5.7K
warnings: basically dad!pierre, kid has a name (Austin), pierre with a kid (*-*), mainly only pierre and austin with reader often missing from the scenes sorry not sorry, not betaread
a/n: i became so caught up in the idea of pierre with a kid (my baby fever isn't helping me rn) that i couldn't stop thinking about situations in which i want to see pierre and austin interact, so i just had to write it. also, i got a rb where they said they need more of pierre and austin (same) and it gave me the final push to write it. so thank you kodzusficrec, this is for you <3
tbh i literally cried a lot writing this. yes, pierre himself has this effect on me. especially when he's with a kid.
reader, please don't be a ghost, all feedback is well appreaciated, rb or comment!
taglist: formulapierre
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It all starts after a race when Pierre's very first thought is instinctively to call (y/n) and Austin, just wanting to hear their voices before anyone else's. It's only been a week since she agreed to give the two of them together a chance – it took quite a bit of convincing from Pierre's side, but he was always fully determined to achieve his goals, and this time it wasn't any different.
He knows why she hesitated so long, she's been scared that her being a mom already changed everything. It did change things, but only in a good way. Ever since meeting Austin, the little boy has been Pierre's ray of sunshine even on the darker days, even only the thought of him, something (y/n) was probably too scared to notice. Scared that it would only make things difficult, him being a race car driver and them just being... them.
In her mind, he deserves something else, not a single mom with an always over-excited kid. And on the other hand, Austin has already lost one father – though without knowing him in any way –, so the last thing she'd want is for him to experience loss again, in case things didn't quite work out with her and Pierre. Especially since Pierre was his role model in life, his favourite F1 driver. Who knows how bad he would take it if one day Pierre left?
Ever since Austin was born, (y/n) only went out with a couple of guys, and no one stayed long enough for her to introduce them to her son. This was completely new. Still, Pierre's determination and him having a solution and answer to every question or fear she voiced, it all eventually led to her finally agreeing to give it a try.
Now it's been a week, and he's already so absorbed in the small family that the first people he wants to talk to as soon as he gets out of his car is them two. It's a feeling in his chest and his mind that he wants to remember forever. If he could somehow immortalise it, he would.
That's when the thought pops in his head that he should keep a list of things, moments that he never wants to forget – a separate note in his phone's notes app dedicated to (y/n) and Austin.
"What if I fly out tomorrow and we can meet again?" Pierre suggests when he's finally able to FaceTime the young woman.
Her surprised eyes momentarily freeze on the screen due to bad connection, then her almost disbelieving chuckle enters his ears through his earbuds. "You'd want to do that? You have a race weekend next week as well, don't you have to be there soon?"
"I can manage to be with you for a little while," he shrugs with a soft smile on his face – something that is just always there when he looks at her, he can't help it. When he sees the doubt still being apparent in her expression, he's swift to add, "I really want to see you again, coeur."
It only takes this one sentence to melt her resistance – and honestly, she wants to see him just as much, he's proven to be the best company she's had in a very long time, with him life seems better, easier, and way more fun. She feels like a teenager with a crush, experiencing slowly falling in love for the first time, as if she's not a mom already, as if she went back in time to when it was simple just going on dates with nice guys.
It's just that she doesn't want to cause him trouble with having to fly out to her when he has a race so close ahead. But with that sentence and that smile she can't fight it anymore. She simply says okay with a wide grin.
The second thing Pierre eagerly types in his special note is when he meets Austin in person again, the first time after that particular race he holds so close to his heart, when he first had the chance to really have a conversation with (y/n) and her son.
She's been reluctant to let the two boys meet again sooner, not wanting to cause unnecessary hurt for her son – she had to be sure things work out with Pierre in the first place, with his hectic schedule and being away so much, she had to be sure that the initial connection they both felt with the other wasn't just some projection of her desires, something she only imagined.
Well, turns out things definitely work out with him, actually a lot better than she could've ever expected it. They have so many things in common, their personalities matching as if it was meant to be.
When Pierre enters the apartment, following her steps, he can feel his heartbeat going fast. It's ridiculous, he hasn't been this nervous even when he met (y/n) for the first time after that race. And he knows the little guy likes him. Why is he so anxious then?
It all disappears though when he stops in the doorway she led him to, the one that leads to the living room, and Austin looks up from his spot on the carpet where he's been playing with toy race cars. For one moment he's just looking without a reaction, but then he springs into action. The absolute joy that appears on his tiny face as his eyes fully take in the driver is enough to calm Pierre down in an instant.
"Pierre came back!" Austin screams, probably directed at his mom who's standing at the side of the room, talking with the babysitter who's just getting ready to leave. (y/n) glances to the side, right at the boy, smiling wide from seeing his happy, excited expression.
The kid jumps up from his spot, leaving the cars behind without a second thought, as if they didn't even exist and he hasn't been in the middle of a race just a couple seconds beforehand, and he rushes towards the man, throwing himself against Pierre's legs, grabbing onto them tight, like he's afraid that if he didn't hold them strong enough, the driver would disappear.
It's such a warm welcome, Pierre can feel his heart filling to the brim with happiness, nearly bursting from it, and suddenly he's not sure if he can ever leave the little boy again – if yes, then it's definitely only for the feeling of getting another welcome similar to this once more when he comes back again.
When he experiences a happiness this huge – almost unbearable – again, it's the time he realises he's started to come to (y/n)'s apartment as if it was his too. There's no nerves anymore as he gets closer to the building or the front door, no standing around on the corridor slightly afraid to knock, then waiting for the door to open whilst smoothing out the nearly invisible wrinkles on his shirt.
Now he just gets out of the car and walks inside, calling out her name as he does so to announce his arrival. It's almost like coming home.
And then Austin bursts out of the bedroom, both his small hands full with those toy cars, his favourite toys, telling Pierre to go follow him to the living room because they have a race to do, a rematch to last time's race. He's yet to notice that the man always lets him win, he seems to think Pierre's only good at driving real cars, and not the tiny toy ones.
The man doesn't mind the slightest, he might have a really competitive personality, but as long as he can watch the young kid enthusiastically push around the miniature Alpha Tauri race car Pierre got him – he honestly struggled to see Austin play with a Red Bull and a Mercedes, something that (y/n) found very entertaining – he can actually enjoy coming in second (and last).
That one car actually became the boy's most favourite, most treasured toy, as soon as he tore the wrapping paper off and his (y/e/c) eyes fell on it. "It's like I'm you! I will always win from now on whenever I play with my friends, because it's your car I'm with!" the kid exclaimed, so sure in himself, and out of nowhere Pierre noticed tears blurring his vision.
Anyway, since Austin keeps on winning again and again, whenever he plays with Pierre, his mom or even the babysitter, his conviction has yet to break still.
Then comes the very moment that almost makes every happy moment he's ever had in his entire life suddenly seem less thrilling.
Pierre has decided to bring them with him one weekend to the upcoming race – and only had to reason with her for a surprisingly short time. He knows how much Austin would enjoy being in the paddock, and he himself would be more than happy to have the two of them there.
He knows it was the absolute best decision he could've made, not just when he sees the clear, genuine delight on the kid's face as he tries to take in everything around him with wide eyes, but also when he leaves to change into his race suit and comes back to find Austin proudly showing his Alpha Tauri toy car to Yuki. His teammate is smiling contentedly, asking questions from the little boy, with (y/n) watching from the side.
But the best part comes when he takes them around some more, Austin sitting in the crook of his arm so he won't get lost in-between the dozens of people rushing around the paddock and also to make sure that he gets a better view at everything. It's crazy how well the boy fits there, on his arm, as if he was meant to be there – it makes Pierre feel more than delighted, and somehow also very proud.
He doesn't even need to hold the kid with two hands anymore, like he did that very first time he held Austin like this, many moons back, for that first picture taken of the two of them – one that has since been followed by many, many more. Pierre comfortably balances the boy on his arm, his free hand reaching out in search of (y/n)'s fingers so he could intertwine them with his own.
A couple people Pierre knows better around the paddock and who are not in a hurry, approach them on their way and strike a short conversation. Not many people knew up until now that Pierre had a girlfriend – and even less that he even had a kid now.
"And who are you, little boy?" one of them asks, smiling sweetly.
Pierre glances down at the boy's face to see if he'll answer or he has to do it for the kid. "My name's Austin," comes the reply with that adorable self-assured, high-pitched voice Pierre came to adore so much in the past weeks. "I came to watch my dad race."
And this is the sentence that makes Pierre nearly drop the kid. He can hear the small gasp that escapes (y/n) at her son's announcement, and his heartrate is so high he thinks even during the races he's never experienced something like this. Glancing up at the man they've been talking to he notes the surprise in his eyes just as much. It's safe to say none of the three adults here expected such a reply – but Pierre would and will never correct it, or add any further explanation.
It's genuinely one of the most delighted he's ever been. Austin called him his dad.
From then on they spend even more time together, Pierre flying out any time he can to be able to be with them, with his son, or arranging for them to come meet him if he really can't get away from his tasks.
And that's how the next addition comes to his special note. One early summer day (y/n) manages to convince the kid to go out to the nearby park instead of playing with his cars at home – only with Pierre's help though. Austin seems to pay attention to his dad more now, dad somewhat taking mom's place in the top position in his eyes, but (y/n) doesn't mind. Not even the slightest bit. Her son finally has a father.
So she helps the boy get dressed, tying his shoelaces carefully so they wouldn't come undone in the predictable running around he would no doubt do. She tells them to go ahead as she locks the door, grabbing the bag she's packed with some water to drink and snacks to have in case they get hungry while out.
She catches up to them on the street, approaching the two while watching gleefully as Austin jumps around, telling some story to Pierre. The driver glances back above his shoulder to check if she's coming and flashes a smile her way when their eyes connect for a couple short seconds before his attention turns back to the kid.
Her hand slips into his immediately – it's become an instinct by now for both of them, and she falls into rhythm with her boys. Pierre reaches out without tearing his eyes away from Austin, grabbing onto the strap of her bag to take it from her, wordlessly insisting that he'll bring it instead of her with the motion of his hand gently pushing away her protesting palm she's held out in front of her.
As soon as they arrive to the park, Austin's off to the playground, befriending the kids already there without a problem – a quality (y/n) has always envied, never being someone herself to make friends easily. But maybe it's simpler for children.
They sit down on a closeby bench, immersing in their own discussion without the kid being there to direct the flow of conversation with his own stories. They talk about the past races and the upcoming ones, her being a Formula One fan since her teenage years helping her knowing quite a lot about the sport and understanding most of the things Pierre shares with her about strategy and about the car itself. And whatever's past her current knowledge, he's always more than happy to explain everything, making sure he speaks understandably but without making her feel dumb for not knowing.
When a couple hours has passed and the time comes to go back home, Pierre calls out Austin's name, the two adults standing up and gathering their bags, (y/n) checking around the bench once more to make sure they don't leave anything there – there was one time a year or so back when she and Aust accidentally left one of his toy cars underneath a bench, and he wouldn't calm down until she rushed back the same way they went home to find it for him, and it's something she never wants to experience again.
As Austin arrives to his parents, his tiny hand reaches up and moves against Pierre's palm, fingers clasping around the man's hand so casually as if that's completely normal – but he's never done it before, and so the naturality of the movement makes it even more special for the driver.
(y/n) turns back towards the boys to find Pierre grinning so wide it reaches from one ear to the other, and all of a sudden she just wants to grab his face and kiss him until they're both out of breath. He's just so amazing. The best father to her son she could've ever asked for, even if he's not the man who actually helped create said boy.
Austin's small fingers press into his skin and Pierre holds the child's hand delicately but tight enough that the connection wouldn't accidentally end by a sudden movement made by either of them. The little boy then turns his head towards his mom, grabbing onto her hand too, and even though Pierre enjoys having her touch on his skin as much as possible, holding her hand whenever they're walking somewhere, right now he doesn't mind at all that he can't do just that.
They're walking home like a real family.
When (y/n)'s birthday is coming up and she plans a night out with her best friends, it's the first time Pierre babysits Austin. The first time it's only the two of them. (y/n) didn't want to leave him like that, with a tiring job like that to do, and he even had the option to join her, but eventually he told her that she deserves some time spent with her friends, and her friends only, and since he loves being with Austin so much, it would never feel like a job looking after him.
That's how early in the evening she gently presses a kiss on Austin's head as he's sitting on the couch, then walks to the door with Pierre by her side. She says a quick thank you, for what is probably the hundredth time that day, and he softly shuts her up by capturing her lips with his own.
"I love you, mon chéri, have fun," he mumbles against her lips and feels them curl into a smile before she pulls away, saying back the same three words and moving out the door into the night.
"Okay, kiddo, what should we do first?" Pierre asks as soon as he's back in the living room.
Austin simply points at the controller that belongs to his favourite car race game, and Pierre happily joins the boy on the couch to spend the following hour or so with the two of them racing each other, trying to go faster and faster to gain more points.
When they grow tired, eyes having been focused on the swiftly changing screen for so long, they eat dinner – some leftover from lunch –, then decide to bake a surprise cake for (y/n) for the next day. Aust has a very clear vision about what he wants to make, trying to explain the best he can to Pierre how the cake should be in the form of a Formula One car, and preferably the same colours as an Alpha Tauri one.
It's not easy collecting every ingredient from around the kitchen and pantry, the two boys have to check almost every cupboard and cabinet, Austin sitting on Pierre's arm most of the time to be at the needed height so he can get the things they want.
A recipe is open on Pierre's phone, the screen getting more and more dusty by flour and powdered sugar as they keep on touching it with dirty fingers, right until it gets a bit difficult to read the words of the next step and he has to carefully clean it with a clean spot on the fabric of his already pretty stained shirt.
When the batter is ready, they look at pictures of race car shaped cakes online to use as inspiration and help, but eventually decide that it's way above their cake baking skills so they decide to make a normal, rectangular cake instead, and to only draw a race car on top with the coloured frosting. In the end that becomes quite the challenge all the same, both of them trying their best to make their own drawings – one car each – recognisable, but not being very successful in that, they have to admit.
With the frosting left Austin has the idea to sign the cake (as if we're giving our autograph to a fan, papa!), and they scribble something resembling their names in-between the two terrible-looking cars. Aust has the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he's concentrating deeply to not mess up the letters, having only learnt how to write his name not long ago.
When they're finished and have put the cake in the fridge, they go back to the living room to watch a movie, and even though Austin chose it and has been utterly excited throughout the first ten minutes or so, he gets more and more quiet as time passes, and eventually he falls asleep, his head laid on Pierre's lap. The driver carefully reaches out to grab the folded blanket from the armrest of the couch and covers the boy with slow, gentle movements in order to not wake him up.
(y/n) comes home not much time later, and taking off her shoes she hears some distant noise coming from the living room so she moves that way, thinking she'll find her boyfriend in there. She was right, he's sitting right there on the couch, but as the credits roll on the screen with some soft music playing in the background, his head is leant back against the headrest, eyes closed and lips slightly parted as he's fast asleep.
Noiselessly she pulls out her phone from her purse, snapping a photo of her two favourite boys in the world sleeping soundly on the couch, Pierre's hand resting on Austin's shoulder as he still lays on his lap, the little boy's hand wrapped around two of the driver's fingers. It's one of the most heartwarming sights she's ever seen, her boys sleeping so peaceful and contented, completely knocked out.
The picture immediately becomes her new lockscreen, one that would keep on making her smile every time she glances at it – and one that makes a cute blush appear on Pierre's cheeks and neck when he sees it the next morning, but not without a wide smile taking over his features all the same.
There soon comes the first time Pierre goes to pick Austin up from school by himself, first of many, and another addition to his favourite memories. As he gets out of the car, he can already hear the kid screaming the word dad – something he still hasn't gotten fully used to, so it still makes his heart skip a beat –, standing just outside the front door, next to his teacher and a couple of other children who are waiting for their parents.
Pierre jogs up the stairs leading to the door, immediately greeting the teacher. The woman smiles at him saying nice to meet you, then Pierre squats down to check if Austin is fully ready to leave, shoelaces tied and jacket properly zipped. He impulsively presses a kiss to the top of the kid's head as his hand grabs the small backpack hanging from Austin's shoulder.
"So you're the famous dad Austin always talks about," the teacher speaks up again, making Pierre look up from his crouching position before straightening himself, a bit of nerves creeping into his bones. "If only half of what he says is true, you're doing a fantastic job," she chuckles.
Pierre's heart feels like bursting. It's the first time he's ever been complimented in the role of a dad. Blood rushes to his cheeks as he murmurs a thank you, averting his eyes in his embarrassed happiness – still the woman can't help but notice how he somehow stands taller all of a sudden, his shoulders squared from hearing her praise.
After saying goodbye, Pierre holds his hand out to signal to his son to grab it and they make their way back to the car, Austin clearly super excited that his dad came to pick him up – he loves it when he can sit in the back with Pierre driving. He always pretends that they're in a Formula One car, racing – and in the end winning, of course. It doesn't matter to him that Pierre doesn't actually go even the tiniest bit above the speed limit. He's an F1 driver and that's all that is important.
Getting to the car Austin climbs into his seat and Pierre fastens the seatbelt carefully around him, making sure it doesn't fall in a place that would make it uncomfortable for the boy, his fingers now moving just as professionally as (y/n)'s did once back in the parking lot next to a race track, with Pierre watching on from her side, not having a clue about what the future held – only hope.
He then moves around the car to sit in the driver's seat, and as he's settling down, just about to start the car, something appears in the corner of his eye – Austin holding out a big piece of paper from his seat in the back towards him.
"What is this?" Pierre asks as he takes it from the boy.
"I made it!" the kid announces proudly. "We had to draw a happy memory we have with our family and I chose this."
Pierre's eyes move from the image of the boy in the rearview to the paper now in his hand and his breath hitches. Obviously it's not a perfect drawing, anyone could see it was made by a few-year-old kid, but it's still easily perceptible what it portrays.
He sees the figures of three people on the colourful drawing, two bigger and one small in the middle, all three holding hands. To their right, there's something that looks very much like his real-life race car, in the background probably a garage at the paddock, with Austin's crooked letters at the top saying Alfa Tauri. Pierre makes a mental note to teach the kid later how the team's name is spelled correctly, but for now he just savours the feeling overtaking him watching the drawn picture.
A happy memory with his family, and Austin chose this.
"Hey, Aust, can I keep this?" Pierre turns around in his seat to look at the boy, already thinking about how it would definitely go on his fridge, somewhere he could look at it all the time and remember this very moment.
"Sure," the boy nods with a serious look in his eyes. "But it has a price."
"Oh yeah?"
"You have to buy me ice cream on the way home and you can't tell mom."
Pierre has to bite the inside of his cheeks to repress the chuckle that's threatening to burst out, expecting nothing less from the kid. "You got it, petit."
He's definitely his mother's son.
As the end of the season is slowly coming to an end, Pierre decides to finally make the next move in his relationship with (y/n). One night as they're having dinner in a small restaurant, out on a date night with Austin spending the night with her parents, in the middle of a casual conversation, just as he's listening to her ramble on about the dessert they're sharing and without his eyes ever leaving her (y/e/c) coloured ones he reaches up with one hand, placing something on the table right in front of her.
(y/n) glances down mid-sentence, curious about what he's placed there, and she nearly drops the small fork she's been holding in the air with another piece of the dessert balancing on top, what she wanted to say immediately forgotten. Lightly coughing because she nearly choked on some crumbs, her eyes take in the shiny key with a dark blue ribbon delicately tied around it, with a simple name tag hanging from the end of it saying her name.
"Are you– what–" she mutters, seemingly unable to form a complete sentence.
"Would you move in with me?" Pierre asks as simply and naturally as if he's only asking whether she enjoys the dessert or not.
Her wide eyes are still trained on the key, still somewhat in shock by the sudden turn of events. They haven't even been together for a year and he'd want them to live together? He wants to live with Austin?
"I've been thinking about it for a long time, don't worry, ange, I'm sure I thought about everything," he reasons before she could voice her possible doubts and fears, reading the way her eyes move as an open book and knowing what's going on in her mind. "I truly want you and Austin to be around all the time, without any of us having to fly to somewhere else. It's enough time spent apart that we have to do because of my job, I don't want the rest of the time we could finally spend together having to be wasted away because we live apart."
She honestly feels as if all her vocabulary left her, no words in her mind anymore that she could use to somehow answer him. Her eyes get glossy with tears as a disbelieving grin appears on her lips. Pierre watches on with racing heart as the most beautiful sight unfolds in front of him.
(y/n) nods vigorously, trying to compensate the loss of words with the movements of her head, grabbing the key with slightly shaking fingers. Blinking away the teardrops she looks deep in his eyes, pressing the key to her chest, somewhere above her heart.
"I would love to," she speaks finally when words seem to come back. "And I know that Aust would love it more than anything too."
When their one year anniversary comes, they use the next race-free weekend and go for a little getaway trip on the northern French countryside, Austin now spending time with his other grandparents, Pierre's parents in Rouen – the little boy stealing their hearts about five minutes after arriving when Pierre first took his new family home to introduce them during the summer break of last year.
The couple spends the day after their arrival sightseeing in the nearby villages, walking hand in hand and enjoying the feeling of not having to rush anywhere for once, and then they cook pasta for dinner together. Even when they have the chance to eat at restaurants, they rarely do, somehow the act of cooking together is far greater joy for both of them most of the time.
Before sitting down at the dining table right next to the window, with the colours of the gorgeous spring sunset seeping through the lace curtain and pouring onto the table, Pierre pulls out a candle from his bag, placing it carefully on the table and lighting it as (y/n)'s giggles fill the air. "What a romantic soul you are," she remarks joyfully.
"Is it too much?" he glances up from his task grinning.
"Nope, never," she replies with a single shake of her head.
They peacefully eat dinner, a comfortable silence hanging over them for a couple minutes only broken by the jingle of the cutlery mildly hitting the plates with each bite they take of the delicious dish.
"Actually, I wanted to–"
"I think this is the perfect time–"
They start talking at the same time, both of them bursting into a soft fit of laughter when they realise how in sync they really are.
"You go first," Pierre smiles, motioning for her to say whatever she's wanted to just a minute earlier.
(y/n) clears her throat, placing her fork down on the side of her plate. "So, as I was saying, I think this is the perfect time for me to give you something." With that she leans to the side and reaches into her handbag that's been laying on the ground next to the dining table, his eyes following with slight confusion. Didn't they agree on no anniversary gifts?
Without another word spoken, she hands something small wrapped in brown paper to him above the table. Pierre eyes her for a moment, letting his fingers wrap around the object without him actually paying attention to the movement of them, but he can't read anything from her (y/e/c) orbs.
He slowly looks down and starts unwrapping it, right until the paper falls down – nearly landing in his remaining pasta – and he lets out a gasp. In-between his fingers there's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.
"Is this–?" his eyes shot up to her face, now split in two by her absolutely gorgeous grin.
"Yes," she lets out a giggle. "We're gonna have a baby."
"A baby," Pierre repeats in slight disbelief, tears gathering in his eyes.
"You're going to be a father, for real this time."
This sentence breaks him from the trance he's been in and he lets out a cheery whoop, jumping up from his seat and rushing to her side, falling to his knees by her chair. His hands gently grab the sides of her face and pull her in for a heated kiss, the wet, salty stains his rolling teardrops made on his skin brushing against her cheek.
Ever since he became a stepfather to a toddler, he's been dreaming of having his own child with (y/n) – dreaming of how the said child would look like, with her elegant, perfectly shaped nose and his piercing icy blue eyes. And now his dream will actually come true.
Mid-kiss one of his hands leaves her cheek and comes to a rest on her belly, wanting the baby in there to feel a connection with their father no matter how impossibly tiny they still might be. When they break apart in need of oxygen, (y/n) giggles once more, eyes gazing down at the way he's softly pressing his palm into her stomach.
"Austin's gonna be a big brother," Pierre notes dreamily.
"Yes, he will," she replies joyously.
As the driver slowly stands back up again to return to his seat, she speaks up again. "What is it you wanted to say?" Pierre has to force his mind from going a hundred miles an hour from this beautiful piece of news to think back to a couple minutes before, having completely forgotten that he was about to say anything in the first place.
Then he suddenly feels the small box pressing into his thigh inside his pocket and everything comes back to him. "Oh, I actually planned on making this evening special and beautiful and memorable, but I guess you already succeeded in that, mon ange," he chuckles.
Nevertheless his fingers move inside his pocket and he pulls the box out, putting it on the table between them, in the meantime opening it so she can immediately catch a glance inside. Now it's her turn to gasp, her eyes landing on the simple yet dazzling ring nestling inside the little velvety box.
"I wanted to ask you a question," Pierre continues, even though half of his mind is still somewhere else – in the not so far future, his inner eyes picturing himself with a newborn baby in his arms, the young woman, his wife laying on the hospital bed, exhausted and with her hair messy but still looking perfect, smiling blissfully happy up at him. "Mon amour, will you marry me?"
.::the end::.
my masterlist | my f1 masterlist
564 notes · View notes
edsbacktattoo · 29 days
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15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS
I was tagged by @gentlebeard! Thank you 😌🫶
ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My middle name comes from my great grandmother, but I never met her and I hate my middle name. I do plan on changing it at some point.
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
A few days ago because the fucking police showed up at my house??? and not only do I fucking hate cops but there’s some bullshit going on with my old car, and the person who’s currently driving it. Just a goddamn mess all around. Had a good cry about all of that.
DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Noooo and I don’t want them, thanks so much.
WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?
I have a knee condition that prevents me from doing any high-impact exercise now, but I used to play soccer and basketball.
DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Occasionally. I could probably use it more, tbh.
WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR?
Blue, but I have central heterochromia, so the iris right around my pupil is hazel.
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
SCARY MOVIES, BABY! Always and forever a horror fanatic. I’m already planning my horror-tober movie list, actually. (If you have horror recommendations, please send them to me so I can add them to the list!)
ANY TALENTS?
I can draw and I can write! I also make a mean cuppa tea :)
WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Australia 🇦🇺 and I am still very much there.
WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?
Definitely drawing and writing. Also DnD, video games every now and then. Does listening to music count as a hobby? Because THAT.
DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?
Yes! Here is my Chippie Son
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^^ please enjoy this sticker version of him it makes me laugh so hard. why does he look like that??? so embarrassing.
HOW TALL ARE YOU?
5’6”
FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?
Art, English and English Literature (I Am Gay)
DREAM JOB?
I want to be a tattoo artist! I’m working on it but it’s so scaryyyyy and I fear rejection. 🙃
No pressure tags: @tisziny @stedesearring @blakbonnet @bizarrelittlemew @bunnyandthejets @jellybeanium124 @sherlockig @xoxoemynn @douwatahima @snake-snack-stede @stedebonnets and anyone else who wants to participate!! yaaaaay! 🖤
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itstimetodrew · 4 months
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Deep dive into a very minor, very niche Spider-Man topic time!
The subject…WHO IS THAT WOMAN??? 🤨
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It’s not crucial to the plot, and it’s not a mind-blowing theory, I just like gathering up little background details and connecting them. :)
DISCLAIMER: While obviously the Spider-Man movies are inspired by and based on the comics, I treat the movies as their own thing because tbh...I am not reading all that. It’s Movie Universe Time!
So indeed the 2002 Spider-Man movie does have a lot of cool tidbits that give extra information on characters. Sometimes it’s very subtle, sometimes it’s more overt! So we begin our journey to discover the Mystery Woman here:
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95% of the words are actual Character Lore(!), with only the last paragraph copy-pasted, but Today's Focus is one particular section at the bottom of the 2nd column:
"His personal life has not been nearly as successful as his business life. Married only once, to the artist Caroline Mulder, he was divorced after ten years of what was said to have been a singularly strained and unhappy [...]"
3 whole pieces of Mystery Woman information! Her name is Caroline Mulder, an artist ("the artist" implies she's well-known at least in NYC), and they were married for 10 years before divorcing. That gives the portraits in the mansion more context, very likely that Caroline painted them.
Caroline’s impact on the story is also stated by an executive producer in a behind the scenes book when discussing how characters are developed:
"Here's a man raising his son alone—there must be a tragic story with his wife. She must have left him! Does Harry remind him of her? Does he love his boy or hate him?"
Harry does have an interest in art like his mom. In Spider-Man 3 we see him painting a still life in his spare time, after post-traumatic amnesia ironically leaves him happier than ever before. He's forgotten many details of the negative things in his life and instead enjoys reliving childhood activities and memories. It's possible painting was a passion of his when he was younger, similar to how he discusses writing a play for MJ and playing basketball with Peter during high school, but gradually became disconnected from or was pressured to drop.
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Knowing the marriage lasted for 10 years helps narrow down a few things, like that the divorce probably wasn't recent. But that’s assuming he was born during the time they were married, meaning Harry could have been 10 at most. Whether Caroline is still alive also isn't clear-cut...in the movie, at least. In the novelization for the 3rd movie, Peter confirms Harry is an orphan after Norman dies. The novelizations and movie details don't always line up 1:1, so it's left open imo. I feel like the paper would have mentioned her passing if she had died but...choose your own route of angst! (And wow would that add a whole new layer of awful to Norman’s misogynistic “advice” about women to Harry if he’s shit-talking his dead ex-wife.)
If Caroline is alive that opens a new batch of questions about where she went. Do they have any sort of shared custody situation? Doubtful, as Caroline seems to be totally cut out of the picture and only exists in the story via possessions. But if the marriage ended bitterly, and some years ago, why is her art and her collections present at all? Her portrait makes sense to keep, as it's revealed in the sequel to be the cover for a hidden safe.
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(That's another fun symbol, hiding treasures behind a loved one's image. A place for safety and precious things, hidden from public view.) Other pieces of art seen around the house raise more questions about sentimentality. If Norman hated any reminder of his ex-wife, why keep her work? Why keep it for so long and have it displayed prominently?
I will not let this derail into A Norman Post (it would not end I could not stop) SO my personal take is that it’s probably a mixture of some longing for the past, but mostly spite. Keeping the art is a reminder that while he lost her, he also won. What was hers is now his (son included). Which may factor into why we don’t see Caroline involved with the family at all. Either she didn’t want to be, or she was prevented from doing so. Honestly it would not be surprising to cut all ties, as I do not think many would want to test their luck in a legal battle against a vindictive person who holds a massive amount of money and potential life-ruining influence.
I could also talk about Harry forever but in short I think these details make him more interesting. It's another angle as to why he seems so conflicted and avoidant about family issues, to the point he physically distances himself from them whenever possible. He might have had a strong connection with his mother, but it likely wasn't something he could talk about without Norman taking it as a personal betrayal. Still, he's surrounded by memories of her and keeps his own mementos nearby.
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^ There's a photo of her in the apartment he and Peter share, the same image as the portrait (on the middle shelf to the left 🔍). Interestingly, like the portraits, the photos of his parents are kept apart. But here his mom is given more focus on a higher shelf.
Despite the work that went into backstory creation, multiple photographs, and a painted portrait, I haven’t been able to find who "played" the role of Caroline. It would be neat! But it’s also just cool to see how background details offer glimpses of a larger story if you want to look for them. :)
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lillified · 10 months
Note
is there a name for the fan continuity you’re making? (ie transformers earthspark, transformers prime something like that) also you probably get tons of people telling you this constantly but i really like how you portray megastar in your work, they are so messy and i love it, it’s fresh and new compared to. well. tfp and idw as the main offenders cough cough
anyways also want you to know you’re super cool and i love your artstyle its like the feeling of running your hands on smooth metal if that makes sense
hi!! tbh im not sure if ive ever properly said it, but the working title is The Decepticons! might be subject to change, but it works for now lol
as for the art style thing--I'm glad you mentioned it, because that is kind of what I'm going for! I love the blocky and geometric angles of things like gundams, but the thing that got me interested in robots was transformers prime, and I'll always be a fan of the sleek, modern, and organic appearance of the characters in that... I wanted to bring those together for my own art, because I think both of those are true to the spirit of TF :)
as for your second point--you should know that i will never pass up an opportunity to talk about my thoughts on writing and characterization and stuff, so forgive me preemptively for the long post, lol
thank you for the kind words! I agree that there are a lot of issues with how certain characters have been portrayed... while the comics were great for fleshing out certain classic characters, they also seriously flattened many others. These characters have decades and series long histories of exploration and experimentation that feels like it's been completely restricted to one of only a few avenues lately, and that bothers me a little bit. like, when was the last time we've seen a piece of transformers media where they have inventive takes on character relationships in the same way as Animated? what's the point of rebooting and refreshing if nothing new happens??
Megatron and Starscream are a great indicator of that for me--their relationship in G1 is bombastic, but also complicated and interesting. they're the most important decepticons by far and their characteristics are integral to the functioning and philosophy of the entire group, to the point that, for example, removing Starscream from the equation of the Decepticons, I'd argue, makes Megatron an entirely different character. They're necessary to eachother, but it really feels like (with very few exceptions) their relationship has only gotten flatter and flatter over time. Even Prime, which I'd argue has the most textually interesting and deep take on their relationship, is, very obviously, held back by an overture of cheap, aesthetic violence. I firmly believe you could rewrite TFP without any of the violence and none of the character arcs would have to change at all, because, at the end of the day, it's purely superficial--it has nothing to say, and exists only as a way to bolster Megatron's dominant image, and to satisfy the audience's assumed disdain for Starscream.
while obviously it is transformers, and nobody is required to think that deeply about it, I'm a dork and it's always bothered me specifically, because, outside of that, there IS a lot of complexity to the stuff that happens!! I like this series specifically because there is so much variation and so many perspectives that have touched this franchise, and, in the best cases, we get the underlying character arc in Prime, where Megatron and Starscream's relationship is a case of two people who respect eachother more than anyone else and can't quite find equal footing about it.
going the IDW route and turning their interactions into constant hostility is the easy way out because it adds the aesthetic of "maturity" via shock value without having anything to say; however, the actual most thoughtful variations on the characters can communicate that both of them are inherently flawed without any of that, and that's what I want to do. this is my writing exercise, in essence... I'm not trying to make the decepticons "good" and just show them frolicking about all the time, I'm trying to make a properly "adult" spin on the formula that actually treats the audience like adults instead of trying to shock them. I'm a nerd about this already so I'm not going to shy away from the intense relationship these characters have because it's too complicated and messily homoerotic to unpack. if I've got the liberty to, why not?
anyway. thanks for reading once again! i can never make these short and succinct haha. i feel like i repeat myself all the time but also I never run out of things to say about them. as always, I'm really grateful that other people are interested in these things--I know none of it is really super important and it's probably something only I ever think about, but I feel like I owe it to the people who have contributed their perspectives and artistic ability to this thing to care at least a little, lol.
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the-illiterate-pirate · 6 months
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Tell Him that His Lonesome Nights are Over || Pt. 1
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I decided on a two shot! Adding this one together with the rest of the story would be too long imo, and tbh I need to hit my fic quota for the month before it's too late. This chap is just story but dw, the next one will have all the good stuff 😏
This draft is like a year old please forgive me if my old style and my new style clashes together noticably lmao
NOTES: SFW, Fem!reader, Reader and Sandman eat jerky, Reader is said to have a large family, like huge like. Oh my god, keep it in your pants please. Tell me if I need to add anymore warnings!
I've added a reference to a song I enjoy a lot, think you can find it? >:3 probably it's very noticable
You'd felt his eye on you for most of the race. You didn't mind though. It wasn't a harmful look, more like one of interest. And dare you say it, you liked the attention.
Sandman was an attractive man, and he finished first in the last race only on his feet. (His feet! Against horses! How incredible.) It was flattering to know you'd caught the attention of someone so important to the race, but you didn't understand why he watched you so intensely. You were nothing important. You had only finished in tenth place. That was more because you got distracted helping one of the other contestants that had fallen into some cacti. If you truly had your mind on winning, there wasn't a chance you'd score under fifth place, and you knew it.
Maybe it was because you were a woman. You couldn't blame him for that. There wasn't another in the race. You stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all of the men that surrounded you. You had a bright red target on your back since you joined the race, but you didn't really care. You had one plan in mind, and you wouldn't let some misogyny take you off of it. But the woman thing was just a guess. Maybe the sandman saw something else in you.
What timing, maybe I could ask him tonight.
It was dark now, you had settled down for a night of rest. Earlier that afternoon those two riders Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli raced by, but they were the only two you found. It was late, your horse and you both were tired, and it was still early in the race, it wouldn't hurt to take your time getting to the finish lines.
You watch the dark headed man walking, rather than running, past your camp some meters away. You called his name, arm waving in the air in a gesture for him to come over. He was unsure at first, but he came over. Victory. The fire you had going sparked in his eyes and illuminated his sharp features in a way that made him look more charming than usual. He was beautiful in the firelight.
Settle down, now. You warned yourself.
"Hey! You are Sandman, yeah? Wanna rest those feet of yours? I got food and drink for two." You handed him one of your canteens. He stared at the offering skeptically for a second but decided to take it quickly after, downing it like it was the only water he'd seen today. The container was already half its original weight when he finally pulled away to thank you. You simply waved off the thanks. "You gotta be tired from all this running you're doin', why don'tcha stick around for the night? I don't mind the company."
Silence from the man. Then a soft, "How do I know I can trust you?"
"What? To not hurt you in your sleep? Hah!" You laughed, "I don't care about this race enough to hurt people over it. So I've got some competition, that just makes it even more exciting." You smile wickedly, the fire extenuating the color of your eyes for Sandman to see. You look down at your canteen, swirling the water around inside in a circle. "As for trust... I guess you just have my word." You look into his burning eyes. "I won't hurt you, Sandman."
He seemed to think about it. He took a slow drink from his canteen while he did. He swallowed before answering; "Today has been tiring. I'll take your word for it, so I'll stay the night."
Fantastic.
He sat across from you on the other side of the fire. A little too close to your horse for your comfort, but you brushed it off, he didn't seem like the type to hurt an innocent animal.
Only the fire crackling was heard for some time. You both sipped from canteens, washing away the thirst of racing across dry deserts. Just the image of dead trees and cacti in your mind made your cottonmouth act up again.
There were times you almost started a new conversation. Your mouth would open, but you were quick to shut it yet again. Sandman threw you a questioning raise of an eyebrow, but you could only look away in embarrassment at your inability to be comfortable in silence. Growing up in a big family would do that to you. There always had to be some sort of commotion going on in your house, and you'd grown accustomed to it in your years. The thought of being without your family for the next few months saddened you. You really missed it all. A nagging in your reprimanded the rest of you for being so homesick already. It hadn't even been a week yet!
Instead of striking conversation, you turned to your bag and opened it. This bag was smaller than the one that held your clothes (still on your horse) and was home to your toiletries, rations, a third canteen, and finally some elk jerky, made specially for you in your favorite flavoring. You tore off a chunk and began to nibble on the tough meat. The familiar taste brought you back to earlier times of traveling America with your big brothers, hunting for the best game the world offered. Simpler times, you missed it, and your brothers. But maybe now wasn't the time to be sentimental.
You weren't sure if Sandman would be interested in jerky. Did his people have jerky too? Was it wrong to assume otherwise?
"U-Uhm," The glare he shot made you jump just the tiniest bit. No one looked at you the way this man did. It was unnerving. But kind of exciting. You steeled yourself for your next question. "Do you like jerky? My brother's specially made it."
"Jerky." He quoted as he took the dehydrated meat from your hand and looked it over. "I haven't had any before the first race. I think it's really good." He took his first bite and was surprised with how tender the meat was. His eyes sparked at the flavor, mixing together in ways that made his mouth drool like nothing else. You breathed a triumphant breath through your nose. Your brothers win again. Best not to tell them that once you got home, though, all of their heads were big enough.
Although, those boys knew their way around an elk. Meat not too tender, with just enough chew. And the seasonings were to die for.
Sandman quickly finished his first piece of jerky and seemed disappointed that it was gone. He was pleased when you offered more. This time, he ate it slower.
"You mentioned your brothers made this... Do you have a lot of them?" The innocent question got a laugh from you.
"You could say that... F-Five. I... have five brothers."
Your answer must've made him inhale his jerky, because once the words left your mouth he spasmed and coughed like nothing else.
"Five brothers? How, how–?" You tried to smother your giggles, as not to interrupt him, but his face just then was too good. He seemed absolutely gobsmacked over it.
"Yeah! Five brothers and three sisters. We all chip in to help Ma and Pop at home, though. My three eldest brothers help my dad out with work while my sister's help Mom with the gardening and chores. It's pretty crowded but we made it work. We're doing well financially, but the prize money from this race could help us out a lot, that's why I joined... None of them could come though. It's kinda lonely, but I know I'll come back home to a happy family.
"...S-Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble. Do you have any family, Sandman?" He turned his sight at the fire before him, staring intently at the flames. You could see them dancing in his eyes reflection. "I have a sister," He started softly, then paused. Those intense eyes of his looked at you next as he thought over something silently. "My tribesmen have disowned me, so she's all I have left."
He fought against the urge to admit more and explain his situation. Like how with the winning money he would buy back his ancestor's land and save his people. There was something soft about you. Sandman wanted to trust you, there was something about you that made it hard to hate. Was it all just so you can trick him? If he decided to ride with you, would... would you use his trust against him to your advantage? He took his time admiring your features.
...No, he didn't think so. That look on your face, you looked so sympathetic towards him, someone you'd just met.
He decided he hated your full attention on him, he squirmed underneath your gaze. To push your attention away from him, he nodded his head towards the shadows on the far side of the fire. "Your horse, what's their name?"
"Oh! That there is Boom-Lay Boom. But my family's taken to calling her Diamond Eye." The sudden attention to your mount had you excited and jumping up from your seat to walk to her side. She was a fine mare, you'd had her since your fifteenth birthday. It was then you truly learned how to care for a horse, you'd done just about everything for her, all except change her shoes, to this day you were still nervous of hurting her hooves. And at this point you were pretty sure you'd grown a mental connection to the girl. You were as thick as thieves.
"Your horse has two names?" Sandman asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Why not?" You asked back, raising your own. Sandman laughed. And at that moment you decided Sandman's voice was wonderful to listen to. You could hear him speak all night if he would. You'd enjoy it more than your mother's music.
"She's a beautiful steed." He said while he began to stand, coming towards you and Diamond Eye.
"Aw, did'ja hear that, Boom-Lay? Sandman says you're pretty!" You cooed and coddled the horse, running fingers through her mane and up her jaw. She simply snorted at you. You heard Sandman chuckle from his spot on the other side of the mare. His hand was raised, gently petting the side of her thick neck.
It was then you decided that he and you had connected on some level, just like you had with Diamond Eye. Maybe not as deep, yet, but it was a great start.
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leeknowsnot · 8 months
Text
rental romance (i.n x reader)
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genre: fluff, retro setting: 80s warnings: none tbh, ok maybe a short mention of early pregnancy but it's not that major. it's not even relevant to the story lol
Series: Retro Series
hii!! this will be the first ever imagine that i'm posting for this blog. it will also be the first to the ot8 retro series that i'll be making so i hope you enjoy!!
note: idrk if i should add this as note but f/n stands for your friend's name ^^
links: chan minho changbin hyunjin han felix seungmin
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The school bell rang, eliciting a cheer from almost every student, including you. It was the last day before summer vacation, and no one could wish for more than the last minute to end. As your professor waved her hand goodbye, wishing everyone a happy vacation with an amused smile on her face, you stretched out your arms and legs. 
You could swear you heard some pop, but you could never blame your body for not feeling stiff after sitting through five hours of unnecessary lecture about accidental summer pregnancy and foolish teenage adventures during summer. You knew it was just the faculty keeping out for you and the others—considering how someone had “accidents” during the school’s overnight camping trip a few months ago; they didn’t want a replay of that. 
You felt a tap on your shoulder, your friend’s grin beaming too close to your face once you turned your head. “Got any plans for summer?” she asked. 
You pursed your lips, jutting it in a manner that you always do whenever you think and shrug at her, “I don’t know. I’ll probably rent some VHS and catch up on some movies I haven’t seen ever since my brother broke the VCR. Dad got us a new one after his promotion last week.” 
You weren’t exactly the most adventurous person, but you weren’t anti-social either. You just preferred being alone most of the time with your movies, curled in a blanket in the living room, hogging the television set and feasting your eyes on some half-blurry movie that you have managed to get your hands on, keeping the entertainment all to yourself. Though sometimes, you’d end up engrossing the others at home with your endless list of movies to watch. Your choices were always what’s “in”; The Breakfast Club, Fright Night, Ghostbusters—you didn’t mind whatever genre it was. Except for one. Romance. 
You didn’t exactly hate romance, but you didn’t like it either. For you, watching Romance movies was... well, it was weird, and you’d rather not risk it and save yourself from the cringe. 
Taking your bag from your seat, you both headed out of the classroom, the chattering of other students livening the ever-so crowded hallway. Since today was the last day of the school year, it was denser than ever. 
F/N grimaced at you, one of her eyebrows raising. “Didn’t you tell me you didn’t like the lady owner at the store?” 
Your nose crinkled, unsure if it was because of the mixed smell of perfume and summer sweat from the other students in the hallway or at the owner of the VHS store you always talked—no, scratch that—complained to your friend about. You decided it was the latter. 
“I don’t have any choice F/N, that’s literally the only video rental store in town,” you said. 
“You’re right”, she gave you an expression of defeat. “You might as well date that old woman this summer, since you’ll be frequenting her shop.” 
“Ew, no. I’m not into older women,” you give her a shove on the shoulder, and she lets out a laugh. 
You both were cut off from your conversation when you heard a familiar honk by the street across the school entrance. F/N’s face fell, “Well, I guess I gotta go. Dad’s having his relatives visit tonight and we’re going to eat out at that same diner at the next town.” 
It was now your turn to return the favor and tease her back. “Hope you get flirted by that waiter again!” 
She let out a frustrated huff at you and rolled her eyes, to which you responded with a laugh. You heard another honk. 
“Ugh, fine I’m coming!” you heard her groan as she walked away from you and into her father’s car, waving one last time at you before they sped off—an inaudible sound of him scolding her for leaving the school grounds late, retreating as the car soon joined the sea of cars in the distance. 
⊹  ˖     ̟   ⊹   ˙
The distance from your school to the video rental shop wasn’t exactly far so you arrived only a couple of minutes later, on foot. 
As the usual bell from the small entrance door jingled at your entrance, the familiar smell of the store welcomed you. It was always a mixture of wet wood, dry cardboard, vinyl tapes, and the lady owner’s disturbingly fragrant perfume. However, her perfume wasn’t what trickled your nostrils, but a different perfume. It was musky, a bit fresh, you thought. Either way, it was different from what you were used to. 
When you turned into a corner and towards the counter, you expected to see the old woman rubbing on the back of some vinyl disc, as what she would always do each time you visit for a rental. But it was a different person behind the long wooden table this time. 
It was a guy, dressed in a white collared shirt that was tucked in his jeans, and a—what even is that. 
‘Is that a floral beach shirt on top?’ you laugh to yourself. You tried so hard not to chortle at his untimely choice of fashion while manning a store, but a snort escaped between your lips and caught his attention. 
He raises his eyebrows at you and smiles, “Welcome! Anything I can assist you with? We have some new arrivals from this morning’s delivery.” 
You could swear his eyes disappeared momentarily when he beamed at you. You cleared your throat, landing your eyes everywhere but him at embarrassment over the possibility that he could have caught you staring at him and silently ridiculing him for wearing a beach shirt outside of the beach. 
“I uh... I was just wondering where the owner was since I haven’t really seen you before,” you said, trying to talk your way out of being caught red-handed. 
“Oh, she’s not here. I’m the new store employee, it’s my first shift!” And he bought it with a smile. Well, he technically didn’t see you anyway since he was too busy updating the shop list, but you felt it was necessary to play safe anyway. 
You nodded your head, your mouth slightly agape as you silently mouthed a quiet hum. “I see...” 
At least I don’t have to deal with her cranky attitude anymore, you thought. 
He walked out from the back of the counter and towards you, his whole stature finally revealing itself as the counter was tall enough to cover below his chest. At the end of the lace that hung on his neck was an employee identification card and sure enough, he is an employee at the store, seeing that the logo was plastered beside his picture—in which you thought that the logo was unnecessarily huge. 
Yang Jeong In, it read. 
From up close, you thought that he was cute. Well, compared to those brutes and try-hards at your school anyway. He was slightly taller than you are too, and the whiffs of his perfume reached your nostrils more than it did earlier. 
“The new movie tapes are in that shelf over there,” he pointed with his thumb. 
You blinked, remembering the cassette that was inside your bag—the idea of possibly making a bad impression on the new employee not lost at the back of your brain. “Actually,” you paused, fishing your bag for the cassette tape. “I’m also here to return a movie I borrowed a couple of weeks ago.” 
You hand him the copy of The Outsiders that you had been meaning to return since two weeks ago. He returned to the back of the counter again, his face disappearing as he bowed his head down at whatever logbook he was writing in from earlier, leaving you to stare at a couple of his hair strands poking out from the prim wax finish that looked like it had been rushed upon application. 
“It’s uh... It’s past due,” you can hear him scratch his head. “For about almost a month now.” 
You let out a sheepish laugh, tapping on the strap of your bag. “Yeah, about that... I wanted to return it as soon as I finished it, but school was...” you trailed off. Yeah, not a very valid reason. 
You heard him tap the counter from behind twice before he poked his head out at you with a smile. “Okay, I’ll just fill this in,” he said before his face disappeared behind the counter again. 
You decided it was best not to question him anymore and took a walk around the store, running your fingers around some movie tapes and musing inside your head about what and what you have not yet watched. You stopped at a shelf where the employee said they had new arrivals. There were various titles that weren’t familiar indeed and you had the worst indecisive trait, so you lingered on your spot, staring at the multiple movies. 
“I recommend giving Gregory’s Girl a watch,” the new employee from behind you suddenly spoke. 
You jumped in surprise at his sudden presence, both hands clutched at your chest. It was now his turn to snort in amusement. You were too focused on eyeing the movies that you didn’t notice him leaving the counter and walking up behind you. 
“I’m not a fan of romance,” you blinked, recovering yourself from the untimely fright that he had given you. He tilted his head slightly, both eyebrows raised. 
“It’s both a combination of romance and comedy. It’s good,” he nods. “I’ve watched it for about five times myself.” 
You stood there, eyes switching from him to the paper cassette box stacked neatly amongst the other movies. You were contemplating whether to take Child’s Play or Gregory’s Girl, but you wanted a change of pace from your usual action and horror movies, so you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you took his recommendation into consideration. 
“Fine, I’ll borrow that,” you finally gave up and he flashed another smile. Does he ever not smile? You think to yourself. Though, you didn’t exactly mind. It was cute refreshing to see rather than a certain woman in her late 50s, unleashing her bitterness over life at her own customers. 
He then took the tape and wrote something on his logbook before handing you the cassette in a plastic bag and stamping on your rental booklet that they use to keep track of each person’s rental history. 
You thanked him, slightly bowing your head before heading out of the door. 
It was your first time renting a romance movie. You thought to yourself, I’ll just watch the first few minutes then I’ll just rewatch Beetlejuice. 
Yeah, you’ll do that. 
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You have never been so wrong in your entire life. Here you are now, standing in front of the same counter, in the same shop the next day, with the same new employee. And he was trying his best not to give you the widest, smug grin while he took Gregory’s Girl from your hands. 
You rolled your eyes at him, “Okay fine, it was surprisingly good.” 
He gives you an exaggerated expression, “Surprisingly good? It’s great! It’s one of the best romcom movies I’ve ever seen. Well, after The Breakfast Club.” 
You held up a hand, “Wait, you like The Breakfast Club too?” 
“Of course, who doesn’t? And Fright Night.” 
“No way,” you rested your chin on top of the small table at the middle of the store while he placed the tape you rented back at the shelf. These were practically your favorites. “Don’t tell me you like Ghostbusters too.” 
He faced you, both eyebrows raised at you. “I love Ghostbusters! It’s an icon.” 
You gave him an amused expression, a smile on your face. Back at home and at school, you didn’t really have anyone else to share your enthusiasm over movies with. Not even your friend, since she had more interest in sports stuff. 
Then, he started humming a familiar tune. “If there’s something strange, In your neighborhood.” Your ears perked at that. 
“Oh my God,” you gasped. His head was bopping at the mutual tune that both of you had in your heads. 
“Who you gonna call?” he continued before finally turning to you. 
You laughed as you shook your head and your hand. “No way I’m singing with you.” 
He tilted his head again at you, an expecting expression on his lips. Eventually, you gave up. 
“GHOSTBUSTERS!” you both exclaim at the same time and laugh at the unison. 
You held your stomach from laughing too much. “Ohh, this is so much better than having that sulky old lady around!” 
You were laughing so much that you hadn’t realized you were the only left laughing. Until you did. When you recollected yourself, you saw him looking at you with wide eyes, hand covering his mouth. 
Oops, I think I thought out loud, you grimaced. 
“I... I mean—” 
“HAHAHAHAHA!!” He slowly burst out laughing. You were momentarily confused as to why he laughed at your sudden self-snitching, but he eventually spoke. “So I wasn’t the only one who thought that too? That the store owner was really sulky.” 
Suddenly, you were back on the same page as him again. “Exactly my point!! It’s like she’s got a grudge on the world or something.” 
⊹  ˖     ̟   ⊹   ˙
From that day on, you started coming a lot to the store. Well, not that you weren’t a frequent customer before, but the new guy made it more tolerable. You shared a lot of interests, had almost the same opinion on everything. Basically, you both were like fire and oil. You’ve become friends over the whole duration of your summer vacation. However, there was one problem. 
“Come on, Jeongin! This is the umpteenth romance movie you’ve recommended me, and it always gets sappier every time!” You grumbled with a contorted expression as you swiveled comfortably on his chair by the counter. 
He gave you a small laugh, eyes leaving yours. “No, they're not.” 
“Yes, they do!” 
“Nope.” 
“Yes.” 
“Nopee.” 
“Yes, they do. Oh my God!” 
Again, Jeong In laughed at your expression and ruffled your hair. You saw his smile disappear and saw him avert his eyes away whenever your gazes meet but you tried not to read into that too much. He retracted back his hand awkwardly from your head and wiped it on his jeans. 
‘Weird idiot...’ You muttered inside your head. 
You both shared the silence for a while, and he had his back turned to you, but you could see his hands fumble with whatever they touch. “Jeongin, you okay?” 
“Yeah. I’m fine. Of course I am,” he replied immediately. Too immediate in fact. 
You blinked. Was he offended at what I said earlier? 
“Hey...” You muttered, “I didn’t... I didn’t really mean what I said earlier. They’re not entirely sappy. I just... You know I’m not a really big fan of romance so—” 
“Y/N,” he cut you off mid-sentence, a deep inhale following. 
“Yeah?” 
“I have... something to say to you,” his voice got weaker at the end, as if he suddenly had second thoughts of saying it midway, but you still heard it anyway. 
Your blinked. “Is there... something wrong?” 
It took him a short while, but he finally spoke again, his back still on you. “I love that you get cold when it’s 71 degrees out.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh...?” 
“I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich,” he continued, finally facing you this time, a serious expression on his face. “I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts.” 
You blinked, crinkling your nose indeed but you knew where he was coming from. “Wait,” you chuckled. “Isn’t this Harry’s dialogue from When Harry met Sally?” 
“I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night.” 
You gave him an acknowledging nod, “I’ll give it to you, you really memorized the whole dialogue word per word.” 
As you gave him an amused smile, Jeong In stared at you for a short while before sighing and closing his eyes. “No, Y/N. This isn’t just me... reciting the movie dialogue out of nowhere.” 
He cautiously held your shoulder, his eyes boring themselves in your own hues. “I...” He looks down momentarily before his eyes are on yours again. “Look, I really like you, okay? Like, like you. These past weeks, I... I uh...” 
You were holding your breath. You were looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. Yet why did you look so beautiful in his eyes still? He sighed, hands releasing your shoulder as he hung his head a bit low. Jeong In shook his head. “It’s not supposed to be like this, I’m sorry. We’ve been friends for quite a while now and I...” He grumbled exasperatedly. 
“God why is it so hard to say. I even practiced at the mirror this morning,” he whispered in the last part. 
Though hesitant, you encouraged him to continue. In your sight, he was so cute right now. Was it your rationality speaking? No. You’ve always found Jeong In cute but you were too in denial to admit it. And now he was here, acting like a child, botching his own confession. 
Jeong In took a deep breath before finally looking you in the eyes again. “I like you, Y/N. You’re my friend, my best friend, my soulmate. And I’ve realized that during the days we’ve spent here in the store. It... may not be the best place to write our love story on but...” 
He looked away for a short while before holding your hand in his. “Will you write a sappy—the sappiest love story with me in this shabby old video rental store and be my girlfriend?” 
You almost laughed out loud but suppressed it with a snicker and nodded. “Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.” 
You could see Jeong In almost turn from a smile into a crying happy face but then saw it turn into a horror expression. You furrowed your eyebrows. Well, that was three expressions in 10 seconds. 
You were about to joke about it, until you finally heard the reason as to why his expression changed so fast. 
“I am not paying you to flirt with a customer, Mr. Yang Jeong In,” the lady owner’s voice grimly rang from behind you. 
Oh, shit. 
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i hope you like it!! i'm sorry if it still sounds a bit meh rn, it's been a long while since i wrote x reader fics like... it's literally been more than 10 years
anw, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist (or visit my pinned messages!)
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denis-local · 1 month
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YALL, ITS YA BOI, GR4Y, AND I AM *BACK* WITH SOME *QUESTIONS*!! *insert fleshcousin yay sfx*
1. how many people buy the 💖yassified💖 fafa (i'd eat it tbh)
2. where'd boots get the 💖yassified💖 boots!? gawhdamn those are long
3. did cashier open the icecream freezer yet, i wanna buy some. (bonus, is there a 💖yassified💖 icecream flavor?)
4. Does Yassi-Spray exist?? Possibly under a different product name than Yassi-Spray? (bear spray, but for fending off the 💖yassified💖)
5. why in the FUCK is denis' tail getting stretched to oblivion in the 💖yassify💖 spectrum comic, i need to know (on the last few panels)
6. what new things can williamplayz (willyslayz) do now that he's 💖yassified💖
7. can pest sing (if so, which lady gaga song since he likes lady gaga)
8. has kasper ever tried to kill/execute (un)pleasant
9. can the 💖yass-virus💖 transfer through particles and what not
10. to add onto the last question, does kasper sneeze '💖yassify-particles💖' or something
11. oh dear dont tell me the 💖yassified💖 know how to do marketing and advertising, business, even...
12. how the FUCK did MR ring the doorbell (in the comic) when he has no hands
13. is kasper necessarily 'mad' at drretro for how she treats him (LIKE A LAB RAT. unacceptable smh)
14. does bive do blogs on the internet or something how that they're 💖yassified💖, instead of being a detective? OR DO THEY DO BOTH NOW
15. where does spud get his nails done
16. is split edible. strawberry.
17. what was the cocoon process like for pilby, how tf would it even work (since they're humanoid n stuff)
18. if bive gave reddy the 💖yass-virus💖, how the fuck did she do it?? some sorta malware program?
19. is lampert still a germophobe now that he's 💖yassified💖
20. did wallter and mark get back together perhaps (probably not)
21. what stuff DOES pest shoplift
22. what type of music does poob play at the parties
23. okay so yknow how fleshcousin has a big hole in the middle of their head? was that changed during the 💖yassification💖 process?
24. if pest bakes pie, he should start a bakery.
25. last but not least question: did kasper change their gamertag when they got 💖yassified💖.
shitton of questions i get it, but hey, thats me. (cringe too i think idk you tell me)
Another batch of questions hehehe >:D
(Another necessary cut off bdhsfqh)
1. I'd guess a lot, they are rather tasty tho also hallucinogenic
2. They probably found them in the back of the koby somewhere also they'd probably be one of the first mannequins to be infected lol
3. Never, he's hogging it all </3 (yes, mainly being sold at Crem's shop and Enphoso's store)
4. Just normal spray will do tbh, it's why Sarah carries it around ever since the outbreak started lmfao
5. My tail got infected *sobs* but dw Denis neva dies
6. More princess dresses with full faces of makeup much to Jermey's joy
7. Idk, but even if they could they would never do it haha
8. Kasper def has experimented some ways (Probably same as canon)
9. At first it was purely through bites so technically you could still smooch your yassified partner and not get infected, but as of late it seems to be getting more and more contagious. To the point it may be airborne now. Luckily Enphoso's store already has special air conditioners!
10. No, thankfully they cannot spread it through their germs. Not at all actually.
11. They absolutely do know how to do marketing and advertising </3 Enphoso is NOT helping
12. He found a way hehe
13. At first definitely, but he seems to have already forgotten about it! So he kinda forgives her!
14. Still does blogs, but it seems her new advertisements for the blog seem to be luring more people in. More people to spread the truth to!
15. Ya mama (jk, they were done by MrManeuver has a side business and for good prices!!)
16. No!!! Don't eat her cries
17. They probably got super tired and hungry at first, then made themself a cocoon, slept in it for a few days, and came out elegant as hell
18. Someway somehow a bite was enough. Even creatures made of materials that are not flesh don't seem to be safe either.
19. Yes absolutely, they probably have that clean girl aesthetic now
20. I think they're working on it (polite and fun don't mix well either I guess ah)
21. Still mainly coins, but will snatch a few lipstick tubes here and there. Now he can get away qith it more easily haha
22. Licky by Larry Tee and Princess Superstar (listen with headphones y'all)
23. Nah it's still there unless it mimics someone then they will just do the usual haha
24. He should! Maybe then he'll stop stealing coins haha
25. She would have, but he doesn't have enough robux </3
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realcatalina · 9 months
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Why do you think the portrait of Catherine/Mary has a K (in the necklace) AND a C (on the bodice)? It's my last real sticking point in the identity debate, especially after you pointed out the pomegranate sepals. (According to the Mary theorists, the C stands for Castile, and the K for Karolus, to signify her betrothal to Charles V)
You pretty much summerized it. I don't think I can add that much.
Jewelry with initials refering to either person's name, their title or their spouse was very popular at the time.
In Catherine's case:
K for Katherine
C for Catalina(her name in Spanish, and potentially it being smaller than K, signalling she is looking forward to her life in England, is more accepting of English ways while her spanish roots are not forgotten, but are bit smaller now...)
or pottentially for Castile (her mother's realm)-not that likely.
In Mary's case:
K for Karolus(latin version of Charles)-for Mary's bethrohed
C for Castile (whom Charles was heir to)
Mary was for long while bethrohed(and married to proxy) to Catherine's nephew who was later Holy Roman Emperor(Charles V). He was heir of his mother Joanna I of Castile, and thus Mary as Charles's bethrohed was styled as Princess of Castile.
(Why not princess of Spain? King Ferdinand of Aragon was alive...thus charles was heir of just Castile at the moment, his mother was heir of Aragon...)
Thus initials would fit both women.
I have to additionally point out that according to Dr Kemperdick the C-initial is not C but E.
Those letters used to look alike and you could confuse them:
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Dr Kemperdick seems like credible source for me, and probably have been involved in exhbition of Sittow's work he later wrote review about ...could have seen it in person and would have certainly have way more experience of reading out weirdly shaped letters in paintings than I do...so I believe might be an E-initial.
Potentially an alteration or minor damage crucial spot within that letter could make it seem as one or other letter. So I am not really sure which one is it.
But even if it was E-initial it fits both women.
E-for Elizabeth. -For their mothers. Isabella and Elizabeth are same name in just different language.
And since Katherine wrote her name with K and not C, it's possible she'd also use her mother's initial with E, instead of I.
For example Elizabeth I wore B-necklace. We have only few historical examples of people wearing their parents initial, it certainly wasn't very common. So i think it unlikely
Update: i was told this is photoshopped, so no example of Elizabeth wearing B necklace:
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(I am already checking credibility photos way more than other people. Give me a break.)
Also E for England or E for España (Spain-thanks Isadomna) would be a very logical choice and it's possible that it was used because it could refer to both.
Hence initials fit both women, but actually they are also used as basis for third theory of who it is-Isabella of Castile.
(idealized and portrayed as much younger than Sittow could have met her)
With K and C both standing for Castile(in some languages it is written with K) . And idk why one would not use same letter in both cases! But E for España could be...
But tbh the theory is kind of ridiculous. Painted younger, ...ok? But wrong features and fashion of diffrent country when Sittow met her and could have drawn her from life?-Ridiculous!
Tbh if you wish to go for theory initials fit other women in Catherine's family-go for Joanna!
K-for Karolus(Charles) her eldest son
C-for Castile
or E for España
+she is married to Netherlands, thus why couldn't she wear Netherlandish outfit?
(Features would be wrong again, but you know initials would work out.)
Thus my conclusion is that you cannot solve the mystery based upon initials. One has to rely on symbolism of other details within the painting and dating of the outfit. And if anybody believes it is same thing Catherine's nieces are wearing in 1510s-they need to have their eyes checked...it's similiar, but certainly not same, diverging quite a bit..(thus more than few years difference.)
I think several of my past posts would be interesting for you if you're intrested in Catherine of Aragon vs Mary Rose debate:
Real looks of Catherine of Aragon-Part 1
Real looks of Catherine of Aragon-Part 2: Why Mr Matthews should have never been believed
(Mr Mathews is guy who came up with Mary Rose nonsense.)
Scallops as symbol
or in debate of which paintings are c.1514 paintings of Mary Rose Tudor as Princess of Castile:
Is this woman Isabella I of Castile or Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France?-part 1
Isabella I vs Mary Rose Tudor:part 2- Could it actually be Juana?
and relating to this:
Sisters in law 1: Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France-depictions and hair colour:Part 1
Sisters in law 1: Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France-depictions:Part 2
This is not Catherine Willougby!
(yes, that is a name of post.)
additional posts regarding debate of Mary Rose vs Queen Isabella:
Her family Part 2-Isabella I of Castile-paintings, iluminations, stonework
Her family Part 3-Juana I’s depictions
...Write to me if you have any aditional questions.
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dballzposting · 1 month
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i feel inclined to add on to that ask abt movies (cuz i love watching movies).
Trunks to me speaks to me as a person who at one point expected the stuff he watches to change him a little. To help him think in a different perspective and challenge his preconceptions or. SOMETHING. hes the kind of guy to try to watch movies like 2001 space odyssey but by the end of it, just looks up the ending explained. he has to try to get anything out of it. I don't think he liked trainspotting. I don't think he knew what to make of The Shining. Trunks would almost certainly try to not get bored at the beginning of Pulp Fiction (the bulk of that movie is talking). But he'll still go see movies in theaters or watch whatever he's got laying around in the house though.
He thinks he's watching movies to gain something but tbh ? Trunks has been watching movies all his life, and it might just feel rly weird to suddenly. not to. If that makes grammatical sense. I think it just gets too quiet in his house. His mom's always working on something in her lab, vegeta's always in his training room, etc etc. so he puts em on to chill. Even if he doesn't really get them sometimes. Bulma seems like the type to do the same thing while she works, maybe he gets it from her.
That's probably why watching movies with goten is so interesting though. He can really get to the core of what it's trying to say, engage with the story and themes on a meaningful level and come up with his OWN well constructed analysis with an infectious enthusiasm reminiscent of the way Gohan talks about entomology.
And Goten, country bumpkin that he is, probably hasn't even seen more than MAX 30 movies in his life (ever) besides whatever soaps his mom leaves on. he's glad trunks invites him over to watch this stuff. At the end of analyzing whatever film they saw I think he'd be like Waow. That was so cool Trunks thank you for showing me this :-) can I borrow this dvd and never give it back and Trunks will be like yeah man thats cool I'm glad you liked it so much. I have a bunch more laying around it's whatever. (He found a lot of these movies in this "guest" room he's never really been inside of. It still has a lot of stuff from before he was born.)
I think that's so interesting.. that Trunks is familiar with the elements present in film but because it's familiar, it's harder to parse how or why these elements are meshed together to make the whole. he's just "watching" them without really thinking about anything and as such, doesn't gain anything.
But because Goten isn't accustomed to watching movies all the time, he can look with unclouded eyes. Not just watching, but observing and taking all of it in.
Its the difference between hearing and listening if that makes sense.
(One last tidbit which isn't super important. I mentioned earlier a guest room. It was yamcha's. When he moved out, he didn't really take a lot of things with him, choosing to leave some of his clothes and most of his movies behind. Bulma probably told him that he could just leave his stuff there in case he ever wanted to visit. The only movie he bothered to take with him was Caddyshack. For some reason. Why)
peace 🌷
I mean this as a kindly reminder and I'm saying this to everyone: you can always make your own post / reblog the post in question in order to add on to it. You can get your name out there. Look alive... It's showtime. I mean I will always faithfully post asks (I cannot guarantee in a timely manner) but never forget your options there.
(For instance perhaps posting your own words on your own post stands to grant them more respect, rather than forcing them through the filter of somebody else's input in order to be posted - as is the reality of sending asks. I can tell when someone really cares, and I appreciate that, and I try to be faithful to that, but I also like to babble. Maybe some posts ought to be stand-alone?)
(Gotta raise my glass to this though becasue i found out today [I would have found out a week ago if I had bothered to check my email] that I may or may not be helping my school start a film club so TBH i gotta appreciate this ..... and I gotta respect the grinde.... It's funny thouhg because you know I actually hate watching movies. When the time comes I ought to come back to you and the other user for recommendations. Well anyway back to the ask)
OK Well this is some real shit you just said. I fully agree. It coheres with what was already said although with some extra sensitivity ...
Reposting this segment for a TL;DR becasue I thought it was an elegant conclusion:
Trunks is familiar with the elements present in film but because it's familiar, it's harder to parse how or why these elements are meshed together to make the whole. he's just "watching" them without really thinking about anything and as such, doesn't gain anything. But because Goten isn't accustomed to watching movies all the time, he can look with unclouded eyes.
I mean really it all comes down to Trunks being a Modern CityBoy; he's used to background noise, he's used to mindless entertainment. Goten doesn't have things in his life that are meant to be taken for granted, though, so that just makes him overall more attentive and appreciative.
That's the greater discussion here ... A veiled call for action for us all to try to look with fresh eyes upon our own lives ....
Really, If Trunks isn't taking to the creative storytelling aspect of it, he should at least take a shining to the technological artistry. Maybe he doesn't care why or when, but he does know HOW they do what they do. That'd be swagg. But then he'd have to do research on something that isn't Minecraft related. Sighhhh
BTW Thanjk you for addsing that Caddyshack bit in there for me. Mondo appreciated <3
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chibishortdeath · 8 months
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So uh, first actual post I guess. This is all random dumps (taken from my instagram stories, so they’re formatted weird lol) of symbols and things associated with Simon. I’ve never seen anyone do this for him before so mwahaha I guess I’m the first >:3c. Sorry if this is kinda just a random stream of words, I’m just getting a bunch of thoughts down and anyone can use this information for theories, art, story analysis, and etc later d(^^ ).
The first one is a bunch of possibility important references, primarily things from HoD, but also a couple from OoE and the Hanged Man Skeletons, which are explained a bit more in the second and third image. There’s a couple details I didn’t have the space for oof (T_T ). If I remember correctly, the Smiling Statue is found in the area where the Hellmont enemies are. I’m not exactly sure if there’s any significance to any of the statue placements, but they’re definitely supposed to be a Carmilla and Simon reference, not sure on who the Sage statue is supposed to be tho. My best guess is maybe Death since he’s the other Simon’s Quest boss lol, but the statue really doesn’t look like him. It’s interesting. The Hero statue is very obvious, Juste gets the little flavor text that “that’ll be me someday” kinda referencing how Simon looked up to Christoper in a similar way (yes, Christopher, he is mentioned in the first manual in Japan I believe, I should talk about him eventually). The whole Hellmont/Shimon thing is nuts and idk why it’s just never mentioned again. Like the name Simon has the ability to be a pun in Japanese on “Death Gate/Gates of Death” which is 1. Badass and 2. Ominous as heck! I also didn’t get to fit in the random family heirloom clock that’s in ghost Dracula’s castle for some reason in HoD, the one that has the nice description of having been “bought on the day your grandfather was born” (not an exact quote word for word but yeah). It feels significant to me idk, why would family heirlooms end up in there? Also didn’t mention the Bullet Tip (called “Christopher’s Soul” in Japan), but that one’s interesting too.
Also I wasn’t able to fit the OoE and Simon’s Quest maps on there so I might make a post about comparing them later :3. That Anna girl could be talking about someone else, but considering the similarities and references to Simon and his games in the rest of OoE (which I also should explain if I can manage to get it all together) it’s safe to assume she’s having nightmares of one of Simon’s fights against Dracula. Which is also interesting in the context that her whole side quests revolve around helping her cat protect her from dark spirits.
I know this wiki isn’t the most reliable source, but I’ve seen other sources that claim the skeletons on the outer wall of SotN and DoS (I believe) are supposed to be a reference to the whip swinging in CV4. It’s really interesting that they’d make a reference to Simon by having the skeletons be hung by one foot like the hanged man is commonly depicted considering the meanings behind that card, but since the position of the skeleton is pretty much the same in both, it’s probably intentional.
The last Chronicles one is kinda based on the assumption that these are rose thorns, but when looking up thorn symbolism a looooot of the specific red rose symbolism kinda started to line up really well. Roses also have a lot of religious significance too so I figured it wouldn’t be that big of a stretch to say they were rose thorns. Chronicles is not the first time flowers have been mentioned with Simon in mind however, I couldn’t fit it anywhere, but the Japanese text for the fastest Simon’s Quest ending mentions he “brought full blown flowers in next spring”, just a fun fact tho, idk how to add it into anything here tbh (-w-; ).
What was the most interesting about this dive into random symbols and other details was how often things ended up symbolizing “self sacrifice” and/or “martyrdom”! Usually twice or thrice wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but considering the vague nature of all the Simon’s Quest endings in all versions of the game and the general lack of focus on Simon’s story aspect, it’s pretty cool to see some things that line up like that :O! Also I am thoroughly aware that I might just be looking to deep into things and connecting things and aren’t there, but I don’t really care cause I had fun!!! :3 Anyway, do with this knowledge what you will, hope you guys like it.
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