Tumgik
#i still need to finish his bio
scoobydoozies · 1 year
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i do love mayor jones' messy gay ass tho ❤️
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tsutsumi gotta be the funniest choice to play sawashiro since he really does encapsulate his casting career of both action roles and being dad of the year (most of the time)
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sceletaflores · 7 months
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A Different Kind of Compensation.
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part two!
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pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader
prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.
warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.
word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.
authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.
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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.
You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 
“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”
“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”
He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 
“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”
You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.
Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.
Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.
You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 
Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.
“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.
Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.
Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 
Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.
"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.
Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.
Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.
"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.
"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."
Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.
As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."
He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.
"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.
Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.
He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.
“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”
Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.
Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.
“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.
It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.
“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.
Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.
He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.
After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.
You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.
It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.
He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”
You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.
You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.
“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”
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dduane · 1 month
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Hi Diane!
I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.
I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.
Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.
The Young Wizard series.
I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.
I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.
So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!
Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.
You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊
And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.
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AITA for asking my gf's son not to call me dad?
I (22M) have been dating my gf (24F) for 4 years now. She has a 7 year old whose dad isn't in the picture anymore - he hasn't been since the kid was born. My gf says he was abusive and I think there are some charges against him but as far as I know, nothing was proven. He has other kids too who he does have a relationship with but he doesn't have custody rights with my gf's son so they hasn't been allowed to have a relationship.
My gf and I live together and are both in college. I am going to be a surgeon and she wants to study science but she hasn't decided what to do with it yet. Because we're both busy with that, her son doesn't live with us full time. He stays with her parents during the week. This means that we have to dedicate our weekends to looking after the kid. I didn't really mind this at first but her parents are really pushing for her to look after him during the week now too, which we don't have time for. I hear how that doesn't sound great but the plan has always been that her parents will take care of the kid until she finishes with school. She has classes for 4+ hours from Mon-Thurs, plus she needs to spend a few hours studying every day, then she has labs on Friday for most of the day. I have classes all week for fewer hours each day but next semester I'll probably be doing an internship so I'll have more work to do. Then we pick up her kid on Friday evenings and spend the whole weekend with him. There's hardly any time for us to spend time alone together. I like her son and he's usually fun to have around but both of us are obviously stressed from having no down time so most weekends my gf and her son get into an argument or something and things escalate. I try not to get involved when that happens. Sometimes my gf and I are the ones who end up arguing and in that case, I usually go to my parents house.
Basically, I'm not super involved with the kid. Her parents want us to spend all of our free time on parenting despite originally agreeing that it was better if my gf focused on school. He has a dad who could probably be more involved but my gf and her family don't want him around. I've suggested that maybe it would be a better solution for her son to live with his dad full time, that way she can focus on school and then her career and still have time for herself and for us. I love her but she doesn't really have maternal instincts and she doesn't actually want kids, she has said a lot that she regrets not giving him up for adoption.
Recently, we were out for dinner with my gf's sister and kid, and the kid called me his dad. He's done this a lot and usually I just kind of ignore it, but no one else corrected him this time and I felt like the kid deserved the truth. I asked him then and there not to call me dad because he has a real dad who probably wouldn't like it. He didn't seem upset by it but my gf's sister lost it. She thinks I don't want the kid around and that I'm the reason my gf doesn't spend more time with him. She also thinks this was the first time my gf's son heard about his bio dad. Total conjecture, but she won't hear my side of it. The kid knows I havent been around since he was born so he obviously knows someone else must be his dad. I told my gf I don't think it's fair to let the kid call me dad when he has a real dad out there and she sort of agrees. She told her son not to call me dad anymore and they had a long talk about it. She still doesn't want the real dad involved but that's a whole other battle.
Here's why I think I might be the asshole: I said this to the kid in a moment of annoyance, which probably wasn't the way to bring it up. Like I said, he didn't seem upset by it but I wasn't there for the longer conversation so I don't know exactly. I think he's old enough to be allowed to know about his real dad in a more serious way. It's kind of messed up that he could run into his dad in the street (we live in a pretty small town) and wouldn't know it. I'm not his dad and for the foreseeable future, I won't be responsible for him as a parent because he still lives with his grandparents. I think it's reasonable to say that he shouldn't call me dad. So, AITA?
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yesimwriting · 2 months
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Would bestie reader just say that she and felix are soulmates?
For example: her and farleigh are talking about the future and what they want to do and she just says "i would probably work and move somewhere sunny because felix doesnt really like the rain". " You want to live with felix?" " OFC, hes my soumate"
Felix: 🥺
yes yes yes! omg they so would pull the platonic soulmate card
You don't know who decided to label group study sessions as 'productive', but you're convinced they've never actually been to one. As a concept, they're the perfect way to balance social needs and academic responsibilities. It's a way to focus on your school work without isolating yourself completely.
In practice, group study sessions are an academic-hang-out purgatory.
"Y'know how you asked to not be interrupted until you finished your organic bio reading, unless there was an emergency?" Farleigh's voice has now yanked you out of the world of protein and enzyme molecules.
You sigh. If this is him giving into his inability to not snark at you, you might have to pick up your text book and hit him over the head with it. "Is there an emergency?"
The dryness of your response does little to dissuade him. You lift your head slightly. The reading break that's being forced onto you is an opportunity to get ready to copy some bullet points into your notebook. You reach for your highlighter, but before your fingers can grasp it, Farleigh's pulling it out of reach.
You straighten, back pressing into the wooden back of the library's chair. He ignores your glare, thumb pushing the neon pink cap upwards before snapping it back into place.
"I'd be careful, Farleigh." Felix's chair shifts with a soft groan, all four of the chair's legs fully settling on the ground as he sits up and flattens his feet. "That's not one of her nice looks."
"You'd know."
You frown, some half thought out sarcastic retort balancing on the edge of your tongue. Felix beats you to the punch. "You'd know if you had any real friendships."
Farleigh presses down on your highlighter's cap, a quiet click interrupting his silence as it clicks into place. "Friendship. Is that what we're calling it?"
There's a knowingness to the comment that has a hint of warmth attempting to tinge your cheeks. You're used to the jokes and little comments about you and Felix, especially from Farleigh, but his tone hints at a sharpness you're not in the mood for. Sometimes he feels like pushing, turning his jokes and comments into something more. You've been in the library for some time now, you're sure the stillness is making him restless in a way that will only add to that.
"Is this the emergency you interrupted my reading for?"
He shakes his head once, forearm moving to rest against the table in front of you. "Theoretically," he starts, the single word drawn out in a way that has you rolling your eyes, "If Madison was seen leaving a party with Abigail's ex-boyfriend, would that count as an emergency?"
No way. Your jaw drops. Madison and Abigail, roommates that seem perpetually trapped in the outer orbit of Felix's friend group, started the year as total best friends. Then, one day, for reasons that no one you know has been able to figure out, everything turned into a sort of unspoken competition between them. It's such an odd dynamic, you and Farleigh have to talk about it every time there's an update.
"What?" You set your arms over your textbook, leaning forward to better listen. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"You wanted to read organic bio."
Farleigh knows exactly what he's doing. He sat on this piece of information and only dropped it when it became convenient to have something worth saying. "You knew before I said that." You turn in your seat to look over at Felix. "Did you know?"
"I spent the entire night with you," he says, "I know what you know."
Yeah, you and Felix were particularly invested in your own world the last time you went out together. The two of you spent most of the night trying drink combinations you'd normally never get, Felix laughing as your negative reactions grew more theatrical as the night went on. "Well, you're not very invested."
It's not an accusation. You know Felix well enough to know that he's rarely particularly interested in most gossip. A part of it might come from the fact that everyone goes out of their way to present themselves in certain ways when around Felix. Rumors about palpable passive aggression seem a lot less real when the people the rumors are about are constantly trying to gloss over any imperfections in his presence.
"You two are too invested." He turns his head to look at you, a small smile playing at his lips. "You only get along when you're gossiping."
You straighten, lifting an arm off of the table to poke Felix's arm. "We all need hobbies." You then turn your head forward to look at Farleigh, "Okay, tell me everything and do it in less than 5 minutes, or I'm not going to go back to studying."
Farleigh's eyes briefly drop towards the textbook in front of you. "You worry too much." The way he says it feels less concerned and more like an observation of something he finds grating. "We all know you're going to end up at John Hopkins." It lacks any type of inflection. It feels like fact. An inevitability.
Graduate school is currently a foreign, distant concept, and you'd like to keep it that way. You're not sure why, but picturing your future education isn't as easy as you had hoped it would be. It's as if there's some kind of mental wall blocking your ability to connect with the next step in becoming a doctor, when all your classes will revolve around the subjects you don't love and you'll have to dissect and watch more surgeries than ever.
You tap our fingers against the wooden surface in front of you. You're not sure what the right kind of response to this type of thing is. "Uh--realistically, John Hopkins is far from everyone I know, and I don't think Felix would like Maryland, so..."
Farleigh raises an eyebrow as he finally sets down your highlighter. "You're factoring in Felix?" The question is still registering as Farleigh gestures in Felix's direction. "You want to live with him?"
"Yeah." While a lot of your future is blurry in your mind, Felix is clear, certain. "Yeah, he's my soulmate."
Farleigh's eyes widen slightly at the candidness of your admission. It didn't feel that heavy when you said it. There are a lot of ways for someone to be your soulmate.
"You want to--to live together after this?" You turn your neck to look over at Felix. He's already facing you, but his eyes are focused on his lap. "Like with me?"
"Yeah..." You admit again as you pull your hands towards you. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything without thinking. "Do you not want to live with me?"
"No, I do," he forces out the words quickly, his gaze briefly falling towards you. "I didn't realize you were--" He clears his throat, forcing himself to straighten. "Soulmate." Felix's hand reaches for the underside of your chair, pulling you towards him with no warning. "I'm your soulmate."
You're never speaking without thinking again. "There are a lot of ways to be someone's soulmate, so don't start."
His fingers move up the edge of the chair before finding your knee. He's beaming. "'M not starting anything."
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy
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bwabys-scenarios · 2 months
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Bunny Boy(NSFW)
Kurapika x Fem!Reader
warnings: sub!Kurapika, soft dom!reader, handjob, oral(f!receiving), breeding, bunny used as a petname for Kurapika, overstimulation
A/N: request for a friend! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAMI
NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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“This is humiliating.”
Kurapika sat before you, wearing a playboy bunny outfit with thigh high and bunny ears to match. You smiled, applying makeup to his soft, feminine face.
“Well, do you want to gather intel from this gentleman’s club or not? They didn’t accept my application, so you’re the one that has to wear it.”
“Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing…”
‘Especially because you’re watching…’ he thought, his cheeks red. He was having trouble keeping himself from getting hard being so exposed in front of you.
“It’s just for tonight.” you cooed, trying to soothe your flustered friend. “I’ll be working at the bar, so just come by if you get nervous. I’ll make you a drink.”
The two had gotten jobs at the gentleman’s club for this night only. A man with a lot of power and knowledge on several locations of the scarlet eyes came to the establishment once a month, and Kurapika desperately needed the intel.
“Hmph…”
He pouted as he walked away, and you couldn’t help but stare at his ass, looking quite nice in his uniform. The little bunny tail pinned to the back of his playboy bunny suit certainly made him look quite cute. The white, frilly thigh highs he wore gave him a soft, innocent look that you figured the customers would like.
You sighed, straightening out your barmaid uniform before walking towards the bar.
———————
Kurapika groaned, stuck in a closet after popping a boner. It was impossible for someone NOT to see his hard on through the thin material of his uniform, so he had to hide until he could get it down.
“Kurapika, are you okay?”
He yelped when you opened the door, his back facing you. “Y-yes, I’m fine! You can go back to your…”
Kurapika turned his head a little, his cock twitching in need as he remembered why he got hard in the first place.
He had been talking to a customer, flirting on the outside and cringing on the inside when he spotted you. You were laughing with some other woman… but instead of being in your barmaid uniform, you were in a playboy bunny suit!
It was hard for him to tear his eyes away from the sight, and he had to rush towards the closest closet to hide how hard he got from the customers so he wouldn’t blow his cover.
“Are you not feeling well?” you asked, reaching out to grab his hand. He whined softly at the contact, even the smallest touch from you making him ache with desire.
His breath hitched in the back of his throat when her hand brushed against his bare hip, making him groan. “I-I’m fine, now le-“
But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, because she had leaned forward and spotted the bulge in his pants. “Oh, Kurapika…”
His face was bright red as your fingers danced along his stomach, stopping right above his bulge. “Why didn’t you tell me… I could have been making it all better for you already.”
“Y-you…” Kurapika looked away shyly, swallowing. “You would… help me?”
“Mhm… what are friends for?” you cooed, to tip of your finger pressing against his bulge. He let out a whine, his hips bucking slightly. “Now be a good boy for me and stay still. Gonna make you feel good, okay bunny?”
He gasped as you stroked him through his uniform, pressing kisses into the back of his neck. You were pressed against his back, your free hand lightly grabbing his ass. “(N-Name)!”
He came, panting softly as his cum made a wet spot on his uniform. You tsked, your fingertip brushing against the wet cloth. “Made a mess, pretty boy. On your knees.”
Kurapika didn’t know why, but he was quick to obey you, looking up eagerly. You lightly pushed down the top of his uniform, palming his chest and playing with his sensitive nipples. He bit his lip, letting out a breathy moan.
“Have you ever tasted pussy before, bunny?” she asked, cupping his face. He gulped, shaking his head.
“N-no… I haven’t…”
You smiled, pulling the bottom of your uniform to the side to expose your pretty pussy. Kurapika’s mouth watered, and he leaned forward. You stopped him before his tongue could reach you by tugging on his hair, cooing softly. “Kisses first, Kurapika.”
He blushed, planting a soft kiss on your clit, looking up for approval. You played with his hair, giving him a nod.
Kurapika made out with your pussy, his tongue lapping at your clot sloppily. He was inexperienced, but was still making you feel good…
You held his hand, guiding it to your pussy. “Use your fingers, bunny.”
He nodded, looking a little embarrassed that you had to guide him to your hole. He was beyond inexperienced, but his eagerness made up for it. You let out a soft whine as his fingers thrusted into you, tugging at his hair. Kurapika groaned against your pussy, looking up at you with pussy drunk eyes.
When you came, he licked up every drop he could get, sitting at your feet and looking up at you with hazy eyes, waiting for your next command. “Such a good boy…”
He melted under your praise, leaning into your touch when you cupped his cheek. “Let’s make baby bunnies, okay?”
He didn’t have time to reply, you were already hovering over his stiff cock, lowering yourself. Kurapika felt his entire body shuddered when he was fully inside of you, his cock twitching.
You took a moment to adjust, your lips crashing onto his. He let out little whines, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips. “Please…” he breathed out against your lips, panting. “Need it… need it so bad, (Name)…”
And how could you say no when he had been so good?
You kissed him again, slowly rocking your hips against his. He moaned against your neck, raising his hips to meet yours in a desperate attempt to create more friction.
Kurapika let out a muffled whimper, and you groaned. He was already cumming inside of you after a single minute of rutting into you…
But of course that wasn’t enough for you. You kept moving your hips, moving to softly suck on his sensitive pink nipples. He was quickly overstimulated, cumming again and again, unable to stop himself from crying. Tears of pure pleasure fell down his cheeks, his hand bruising your hips as he let out another load into your cunt.
You finally came a few minutes later, collapsing on top of him. “Mmph…”
Kurapika panted, his cock twitching inside of you as he recovered. He had never felt like this before, so satisfied and so exhausted at the same time… you smiled, giving him soft kisses as you used some napkins to clean the two of you up.
“Cmon… we should get back to work.”
Kurapika pulled you back to him, shaking his head. “No… no, don’t leave yet…”
He wouldn’t budge, curling up with you on the ground. “Stay… I love you so much… just… wanna stay like this a little longer…”
You sighed, your cheeks heating up a little from his confession. “I love you too, Pika.”
Looks like the two of you weren’t getting that information tonight.
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strawb3rry-acid · 3 months
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More König Headcanons
Just some more König headcanons I wanted to throw out there while I finish working on an analysis of his personality. It's taking longer than I first expected lol.
More of these are fairly random, but there's some involving relationships, his personality, and other things. Just random, and fairly soft stuff ♡
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꙳︼❍︼꙳
❍ Admittedly, I don't think this man is the type too be considered "attractive" by the majority of people(I know there's some debate on whether or not the glitch showing his face is truly his face or not. Personally, I'm on the fence here, so I wanna add my little twist to it since it's mentioned that it's rumored what's under his mask is even scarier than his intimidating presence.)
❍ The type too hide things up high if someone pisses him off just out of petty spite. He'll gladly watch them struggle till they will, probably, have too ask him for help. It gives him that "ha, I win" rush. Spiteful, cheeky bastard.
❍ I've mentioned this before, but I think he's got a soft spot for women. Having been in the military, and having rescued victims of human trafficking (it was mentioned in his bio at one point, but I think it's been removed for some reason) he's seen the violence, and bigotry women face, and can be pretty protective. He may have severe social anxiety, but he won't hesitate too step in if he senses some jackass is harassing a woman.
❍ Speaking of which, I do think he's the type too step in, and shut shit down if someone's being mistreated, and has issues speaking up for themselves. It's in his own quiet, subtle way of course(Death glares, firm grabs if needed, etc), but he'll still likely step in if he feels it's necessary. (It just makes sense to me considering his past with bullying, him specializing in hostage rescue, as we'll as some of his voice lines expressing deep loyalty, and his likely enjoyment of being helpful. I don't think he takes too kindly to disrespect. Specifically if it's someone who's innocent, and who's been respectful/kind too him. If it's someone he enjoys being around, then he'll definitely step in).
❍ Neither a dog, nor a cat person. I think he's fairly indifferent too both, but if he had too chose, he'd chose dog's. He likes cats as he relates too their typically solitary behavior, but enjoys the fact that dog's tend too be very affectionate, and loving animals.
❍ I feel like he's a very competitive person. He enjoys a good challenge as it gives him a chance too show off his skills, specifically in combat. I wouldn't recommend trying to compete with him though. He can become pretty ruthless depending on the situation, especially if he feels he's losing, and will seek to out do them. Trust me, with his determination, the other person will lose.
❍ He's used to his height by now, and is very cautious of it, but he'll still bump his head, and knock things over sometimes(I know a man how's 7ft, and he's always doing that lol.)
❍ On another note, I think he has mixed feeling's about his height. On one hand, he loves the fear it brings to enemies out on the field. On the other hand, he despises the attention it draws too him off of the field. He's a very private man who likes to slip by unnoticed, and his height makes it difficult for him too do so. The fact that he intimidates innocent people tends to make him feel pretty disheartened as well.
❍ In a partner, I don't think he cares about looks. The fact that their accepting of him, and love him is all he needs, and wants. He'd love a plus sized partner, a muscular partner, a thin partner, a tall partner, a short partner, and everything in between. As long as their healthy, and happy he doesn't give a rat's ass.
❍ He definitely has plenty of stretch marks. He's a tall guy after all, and he probably grew tall very quickly.
❍ I don't think he's the most touchy person in the world, but he doesn't mind it either. While he doesn't like being touched by strangers in the slightest, he has no issues with loved ones touching him. It's just probably something he won't really initiate himself very often unless it's more subtle touches(think pats on the back, or gently squeezing shoulders). Instead of touch, he more so just let's people he cares for linger in his space, and will keep them closer too him.
❍ I've mentioned this before as well, but I think he's a gamer, especially when it comes to games involving some form of combat. Video game wise, I think he'd enjoy what most consider too be "dad" games. Video games, and board games would be one of his favorite ways too bond with loved one's. He can get really riled up to an amusing degree.
❍ Cannot tolerate spicy foods to save his life, but will eat them too seem tough.
❍ Very bad when it comes to expressing affection through words, and touches. He tries, but he's just so damn awkward, and is worried about doing/saying something that'll make them uncomfortable. Much more prefers too show affection through act's of service.
❍ However, he does have his moments of being very physically, and verbally affection. This will likely happen when he's comfortable being around the person, he's been away from them for a long time, and/or has seen some really horrible things that remind him of the fact he could lose them at any moment. If it's the case that he's seen something horrendous, then he's lingering around them all the time, and it can be hard to pry him off of them.
❍ Always checking in with people he's close to. He has a very deep understanding of what it's like to be alone, and never wants them too feel that way.
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heartpascal · 9 months
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the sun was collapsing
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▹— joel miller x platonic!reader
▹— summary: joel thought you moving to a college halfway across the country would be the worst thing to happen to his family
▹— a/n: first off. yes this is me projecting. second, this is a miller!kid fic HOWEVER. it is not specified whether reader is adopted or biological etc + there is no reference to looks/resemblance! edit upon finishing: this took a slightly different direction than i originally meant but erm. yeah. let me know if y’all want any more of this!
▹— warnings: reference to a suicide attempt / suicidal thoughts and feelings — it’s the last section of the fic, and if you wish to avoid it stop reading at “You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.”, i will also put *** at the start of it (joel’s, but still, be cautious), negative feelings about going to college, miller!reader (adopted/bio unspecified), regretting leaving home, outbreak day, angst!!, brief use of they/them pronouns
▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop (pedro)
masterlist
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There had been a pit festering in the depths of your chest since the moment you had finished all of your exams. One which, no matter how many reassurances were provided, refused to go away, refused to allow you a moment of peace, of rest.
Strangely, it had only gotten worse the moment you had received your results, since you had received your acceptance letter, since your place at the college of your dreams was confirmed. As if all your hard work finally paying off was a bad thing, something to dread.
At first, you blamed it on the way Sarah had cried and held on to you for the way your chest caved in on itself. It felt reasonable to assume that your little sister could be the reason for such overwhelming trepidation about your impending departure. After all, you had always worried about her, had always looked out for her as best as you could, especially with everything that had happened with her mother.
When that didn’t explain away the uneasiness in your chest cavity, you shifted the blame to your father. Your dad, who you had looked after for what felt like the entirety of your life, who you had looked to in the best and worst times of your life. The very man who did his best to quell his own fear and worry about your move, just to reassure you, to encourage you.
Joel Miller was a self-made man, who raised two kids, a brother, and a business all in one short lifetime. He was a man who had struggled at practically every turn, and if this college was what would make you happy, was what would give you the head start that he had never received, he would welcome it.
You knew, really, that he would be fine. Your dad had raised you just fine, and he could handle your little sister without you, you were sure. For a brief moment, you had blamed that on the sense of foreboding within you; the idea that they didn’t need you. It didn’t take long for you to realise that they did, and that they would be glad to have you from miles away, rather than not at all.
So, you were at a loss.
It should have been an exciting time, something that you were looking forward to, rather than dreading. This was the start of the rest of your life, the reward for all of your hours spent working for the grades you had received, for the anxiety and stress of school. It was supposed to be a good thing. You couldn’t understand why your chest didn’t seem to get that memo.
The feeling persisted the entirety of the time that led up to your move, outlasting each brief flash of any other emotion. It continued the whole roadtrip up to the college, across multiple state borders, despite the multitude of karaoke covers that Sarah initiated.
Even when Joel and Tommy were taking your boxes up to your dorm room, you could feel it. Hell, when Sarah helped you start unpacking said boxes, it continued.
It was only when you were waving the three of them off, tears blurring the shrinking truck, that you realised just what was responsible for the feeling that had been bugging you for months.
You didn’t want to leave home.
Moreover, you didn’t want to grow up. You didn’t want to be alone.
The realisation was almost enough for you to call your dad, to beg him to come back, to pick you up and return you back home. Almost. Instead, you found yourself walking numbly back up to your dorm room, taking more than one wrong turn in the hallways which bled into one, and sitting down on the mattress which wasn’t your own.
For the next week, you breezed by, drifting along your timetable in some kind of half-there state. It was like you couldn’t fully comprehend that you were on your own.
You phoned Sarah on the fifth day, twisting the wire around your fingertip nervously, as if your little sister would ever ignore your calls. She answered on the second ring — unsurprisingly, given that was about how long it always took for her to answer the phone — and she greeted you with the most joyful call of your name you’d heard for a while.
“Sarah,” You responded fondly, tears immediately welling up in your eyes as you listened to her barrage of questions about your first week at college. “Slow down, Sarah, slow down!” You interrupted when her questions became intelligible over the spotty phone line.
“Sorry, sorry,” Sarah said, not sounding sorry at all. “I miss you. I wanna know everything.” She finished, which you already knew she would. Sarah was a lot like you in that way, curious and determined. You knew she was already thinking of what college she wanted to go to, and just how to get there. If she wasn’t swept up by playing soccer, neglecting her studies, that was.
Regardless, you smiled, just glad to hear her voice. “I know, I miss you, too. Is dad home yet?” You asked, unsurprised by her responding no, considering Joel Miller was renowned for his inability to stay on time, his tendency to overwork himself unrelenting. “Okay, well, you’ll tell him everything, right?”
“‘Course I will,” Sarah responded, sounding thrilled to get to relay such interesting information. She’d no doubt be sharing it with Tommy, first thing in the morning, too. “Now tell me!”
“Okay, okay.” You laughed, before telling her as much as you could about what you recalled of your experience so far. Some of it was embellished, of course, mostly for Sarah’s benefit, though also slightly for your father’s. You already knew he’d be worrying himself sick over you.
That phone call was the only time the pit in your chest lessened, the whole time you’d been at college. As if the smallest dose of home was having a real effect. It only made you miss the house back in Texas all the more.
You felt worse afterwards, somehow. As if the call had been a harsh and unneeded reminder of the distance between you and your family. It had barely been over a week by now since you had left home, and you worried that you would never get used to being so far away. How could it possibly get better? How could you ever settle in when the people you love were so far?
The days afterwards were spent mulling over all of your life choices, spending your time soaking in all the regrets you were beginning to have. Why did you work so hard to get into this college? You were miserable. Not to mention all of the experiences you had missed out on in your determination to get here.
Luckily for you, you finally made your first friend.
He had sat next to you in one of your classes, and finally, after three classes of sitting in silence, the two of you had struck up a conversation.
Strangely enough, the two of you bonded over missing home. He was all the way from Nevada, and shared your debilitating homesickness. He talked a lot about his mother, and his older sister, and it was nice to have somebody to share that with.
Things were starting to look up. Life was a lot easier when you had a friend to share it with.
But all the talking about feeling homesick didn’t actually get rid of the feeling. Your heart practically ached each time you went home to your dorm room, where you were alone, where there was no little sister to come and bug you about dinner, or about dad getting home.
You called again, on the three week mark.
Much to your annoyance and happiness, your uncle Tommy answered the phone.
“Hey, uncle Tommy. How’re you doing?” You asked, the smile obvious in your voice. Even to your ears, it was the happiest you’d sounded since speaking to Sarah, a little over two weeks prior.
“Well, if it ain’t our little ol’ Nerd Miller.” Tommy greeted over the phone, that familiar teasing tone making you roll your eyes. “I’m doin’ mighty fine, kiddo. How’re you gettin’ on?” He asked, tone taking on a more soft note, which had your chest aching all over again.
Still, you shook your head and tried your best to seem as happy as possible, for his sake. “Oh, you know, just learning the ways of the world, n’ all. Where’s dad?” You questioned, not wanting to be rude, but also desperate to speak to the man who had raised you, and who had also missed your calls since you’d been gone.
“He’s out buyin’ some last minute supplies for tomorrow’s job. Keeping himself busy, I’d say.” Tommy replied, before you heard him calling out Sarah’s name, away from the phone. “Hang on, now, Sarah wants to speak to you.”
You wait, listening to the shuffling of the phone switching hands from across the country, endeared by your sister scolding your uncle for taking so long to tell her it was you. They argued for a moment longer, their joking tones familiar, but sounding vaguely different from across the phone line.
Finally, Sarah greeted you. “Hey, little sister! How are you getting on, over there? Tommy causing you trouble?” You asked in return, hearing him yell, some distance away, straining to be heard across the phone. It sent you and Sarah into giggles, and she had to take a breath before she could respond.
“As always. So, have you been to any parties, yet?” She asked, always insisting that you were the Miller child who caused the most trouble. You vaguely heard Tommy yell out a ‘sure hope not’ over the phone. Sarah shushed him, eagerly awaiting your answer.
“No, Sarah, no partying for me! I’ve gotta work hard, make this whole trip worth it.” You said, and though your tone was teasing, your words were feeling more true by the second. You had seen plenty of fliers advertising parties all across campus, even been handed a few as you exited classrooms, but you were uninterested. Your new friend had suggested you go to one, just yesterday evening, but you had declined. You were pretty sure that underaged drinking wasn’t the right way to cure your homesickness.
“You’re so boring. Dad’ll be thrilled.” Sarah laughed, the sound crackling over the line, and you smiled. There was no doubt in your mind that Joel would be relieved about your lacking party life, as much as he said he encouraged you getting out and living. Hell, the whole reason he hadn’t called you was so that you didn’t feel suffocated by him, so that you could live your life without feeling pressure from your old man. “Made any new friends?”
You hesitated, for some reason. “Uh, yeah! There’s this guy in my—”
“A guy?” Sarah interrupted, immediately. And there it was! The very reason for your hesitation. You heard a struggle over the phone, and Sarah was sounding more amused as time passed. “What’s his name? Are you dating?”
“Okay, enough of that!” Tommy said, and there was more shuffling as he presumably snatched the phone off of Sarah. You could hear her complaining through breaks in her laughter, but Tommy was refusing to hand back the phone. “Your old man does not need this one passin’ along details of your dating life, kiddo.”
You smiled, rolling your eyes. “There is no dating life, uncle Tommy. He’s just my friend.” You responded, though your uncle sounded unconvinced. “Anyway, enough about him. About dad’s birthday, next week—”
It was Tommy who cut you off this time, shifting the phone in his hand. “Woah! Don’t you go worrying about that, now. Me and Sarah have got it covered, don’t we, kiddo?” You heard Sarah yelling agreements, though you doubted she even knew what you were talking about.
“Actually, I was thinking about coming home for it. Surprising dad, you know.” You admitted, mostly in hopes that your uncle would help you plot the journey. And he was slightly better at keeping secrets than Sarah was.
“Oh, you just worry about yourself, up there. We’ll look after your old man! You gotta get out there, live your life!” Tommy responded, dismissing your idea immediately, even though he knew his older brother would have secretly loved the surprise. But it had only been a few weeks since you’d left, and if Tommy was honest, he wasn’t sure you’d go back if you came home so soon.
You frowned at his response, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “You mean to tell me that you and Sarah are gonna manage the birthday breakfast, presents and cake? No way dad’ll remember any of it!” You said. For the longest time, you had been the one taking care of that sort of thing. Joel was always much too busy taking care of you and Sarah as well as overworking himself at his day job to sort out his own birthday celebrations.
Sure, Sarah was old enough by now to do this sort of thing, but it was something that you did. Since you were— what? Eleven? You had been the one to do it. Each year, you made Joel’s birthday cake, and either bought his presents or sent Tommy and Sarah out for them. Would they manage it without you? Did you even want them to?
It was the one day of the year where nothing else came first. Not schoolwork, homework, studying, work, not anything. You always made sure that this day was free, no exceptions. What would you do with it now?
“I think we can manage, right, Sarah?” Tommy said, teasingly, clearly not quite realising the significance of the day for you. Joel was your dad, in all the ways that mattered. He did everything for you! Hell, he even moved you halfway across the country, just because you thought it was what you wanted. This was the one day of the year where you got to return that. Where you got to show just how thankful you are for him, even if he did annoy the hell out of you whenever the chance arose. His birthday was the one day where you could get away with buying him gifts, and Tommy wanted you to… what? Stay this far? Be uninvolved?
“Tommy, I—… I always help with dad’s birthday. That doesn’t need to change now.” You murmured into the phone, suddenly feeling left out. It wasn’t a feeling you enjoyed whatsoever, and especially when it involved such an important day.
Tommy tutted, the sound just about crackling through the receiver, and you could picture him shaking his head, all the way back in Texas. “You gotta live your own life now, kid. Can’t be worryin’ about us little people back here. It’s high time you started puttin’ yourself first. Don’t worry about Joel’s birthday,” Tommy said, softer then, less mocking. “Me and Sarah’ve got it, alright?”
With a frown, you responded. “Alright.”
“Alrighty, now we better get goin’, your dad’ll have a fit if I make Sarah late again.” Tommy told you, and you nodded, before cringing and realising he couldn’t see that.
The three of you said your goodbyes, with Tommy putting the phone down soon after, cutting off his yells to Sarah about getting her shoes on. In the silence that followed after, you couldn’t help but feel more upset than before the call. Logically, you knew your family missed you. You knew that they couldn’t wait for you to be home at Thanksgiving, and you knew that they looked forward to your phone calls home just as much as you did. But it was hard. Brief phone calls with them just weren’t enough, and just showed that life was going on for them as normal, whilst you felt stuck.
You also knew that they were trying to give you your independence, that they were trying to let you live your life. Especially Joel. But you were finding, more and more, that you didn’t want this much independence. You wanted your dad to be overbearing and overly interested in your life, because he just wanted to be involved. You wanted your uncle to drive you to and from school, to sneak you a bottle of beer at family barbecues. You wanted to walk your little sister around town, because she was too nervous to go herself.
Everybody you had known back home had always told you that you’d be just fine at college. They had always told you that you were independent enough as it was, that you were practically an adult already, and that it’d be almost no different to home. For whatever reason, you felt guilty to think that they were wrong about you. You needed your family. You couldn’t do everything on your own, it was too much. It was too hard. It was too… lonely.
Where was your support system? Where were the three overbearing family members that would crowd you when you were upset, until you finally felt better? Who would you turn to when you needed a lift all the way across town? Who would you persuade to watch shitty DVDs from the Adler’s with you? Who would save Sarah from the Adler’s clutches?
As awful as you felt about it, you couldn’t help but want your family to feel as incapable without you as you did without them. You didn’t want them to manage without you. You wanted them to tell you to come home.
Part of you was just hoping that they weren’t doing it because they knew you were looking for the excuse to come home. Because they knew that if they asked, you’d come. Without question. Without even a moment of hesitation.
Your phone rang again, and you jumped up to answer it, hoping your dad was finally home, finally ringing you back. “Hello?”
“Hey!” Your newest and only friend greeted, the sound of a party muffling his voice. You sighed, hand over the end of the phone in hopes he wouldn’t hear it and misread your disappointment. “You sure you don’t wanna come to this thing? It’s a lot of fun!”
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It was the morning of your dad’s birthday, and you had barely slept a wink, despite having a class relatively early this very morning. It had been a night full of tossing and turning, full of regrets and ideas about going home at 2AM. In the end, your exhaustion let you sleep when it was nearing 6AM, and your alarm woke you up not long later.
You’d barely managed to refrain from micro-managing Sarah and Tommy, all the way from across the country. Instead, you’d let yourself believe that they’d be able to remember everything, despite your anxiety telling you otherwise. You felt awful enough about not being there for Joel’s birthday, the last thing you needed was to feel guilty about him not getting a good birthday, too.
Not that you thought that Sarah or Tommy would allow that, of course. But Tommy was almost as forgetful as Joel was, and it wasn’t like Sarah could borrow Tommy’s truck like you had, last year. She wasn’t even old enough to drive yet! Surely it wasn’t unreasonable for you to worry, right?
You held off from calling home until it was nearing the time they would be leaving for school and work respectively, in hopes of not making the three of them late. You knew that you’d have to leave for your own class soon enough, but it felt wrong to start the day without speaking to your dad. Hell, your sad breakfast of toast had already started the day off on a pretty low note.
The phone rang for an uncomfortably long time, and you were reaching out to hang up when somebody finally answered. No greeting came immediately, just shuffling over the line, alongside some distant yelling. Finally, Tommy said, “Hello?”
“Hey, uncle Tommy. Everything alright over there?” You asked, brows creased as you listened to the commotion going on within the house, audible even over the crackly phone line. It seemed that the day was not starting off as smoothly as it usually did, no doubt due to your own dad and his persistent snoozing of his alarm.
Tommy yelled something away from the phone before finally responding to your question. “All good on our front, kiddo. How’re you doin’?” He asked, though you didn’t miss how distracted he sounded as he asked.
“Um, fine, I guess. Is dad there?”
“Huh? Oh, hang on.” Tommy replied, before you heard the clunk of him placing the phone down on the wooden table it sat on. There were some crackles that you think were his boots against the floor as he walked away, and you distantly heard him yelling for your dad. “Joel, your kid is on the phone!”
It’s awkward — the waiting, that is. The second hand on your watch ticking away until the minute hand moves, and still, there’s only faint rustling on the other end of the phone. Finally, after almost three full minutes, somebody picks up the phone.
Sarah said your name cheerfully, and you smiled tightly, despite yourself. “Hey, Sarah. How’s it been, sorting dad’s birthday?”
“Oh, not so bad. Made him eggs this morning, because he forgot the pancake mix yesterday. And he’s picking up the cake later! But don’t worry! I’ve got his present sorted.” She rambled, barely pausing to take a breath between sentences. You can imagine that she’d been stressed, trying to sort everything. It’s not as easy when you’re young, and you know that from experience.
“I don’t doubt you for a second. Where is dad?” You replied, eyebrows creased as you waited for her response.
“He’s running late, as always.” Sarah answered, and you could picture her rolling her eyes. She was punctual by nature, and definitely didn’t get that from Joel. He was always too late.
“I’m here, I’m here.” You heard faintly, the words muffled across the line. “You, go get in the truck. We’re late! Hey, kiddo.” Joel said, talking to Sarah before finally addressing you on the phone.
“Hi.”
“I’m sorry to cut this short, but we really are running late. I’ll call you once I’m home, alright?” Joel told you, sounding apologetic and frustrated. He probably missed you — and your annual birthday breakfast — just as much as you missed him.
“Okay. Happy birthday, dad.” You responded, feeling increasingly down. You should’ve never listened to Tommy. Joel’s birthday would no doubt be a disaster without you. And you already knew he was going to forget to pick up his birthday cake before returning home from work. It was the whole reason you always baked him one before he got home.
“Thanks, kiddo.” Joel said, a faint smile audible in his voice. He hung up a moment later, already shouting to Tommy and Sarah before the call was cut off. You frowned at the phone in your hand, your eyebrows furrowed as you thought of your family back home. Moving away truly wasn’t a good idea, was it?
That was what your thoughts were stuck on, for the rest of the day. Even as you proceeded to go to classes and see your few friends as normal, you couldn’t help but feel that pit in your chest getting worse, like you really were making a mistake. It was suffocating, and it felt never ending.
When you finally got back to your dorm room — much to your friend’s dismay, after having left them in the library to do an essay alone — you waited by the phone for your dad to call you back.
But when the phone finally did ring, it wasn’t your dad on the other end. Sarah greeted you the moment you answered, sounding relatively tired. She started telling you about her day, and about how Joel still wasn’t home, despite it nearing the late evening. She also told you about having to go to the Adler’s house, and helping Mrs. Adler bake disgusting cookies, followed by how creepy her mother was. Sarah had always found the old woman to be creepy, with her motionless state and blank expression, but in her words, the old woman seemed even more creepy than usual.
You rejoiced with her when she told you the title of the shitty DVD she’d borrowed from their extensive collection, though. It was one of your favourite things about your dad’s birthday traditions, even though the movie was almost always awful.
The call didn’t last long, because Sarah wanted to get her homework done before the weekend started, so you let her go, and sat in your quiet dorm room, once more. It was lonely, more than anything, and even though you often just sat alone in your bedroom at home, it was different. There was no option of going downstairs to see your dad, or crossing the hall to see your sister.
Eventually, you fell asleep, the dim lighting of your room alongside your poor night of sleep prior meaning that you couldn’t wait for Joel to call any longer.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
The first thing you think when you wake up to a world of chaos, is that you never got to speak to your dad last night.
Even as the world rages on around you, people going insane, reports of an outbreak, shots fired on the streets, you can only think of your family, who feel as if they’re half the world away. How are you going to get to them? Are they okay? Are they alive? What was the last thing you said to them? Did you tell them you love them?
It’s a quick downward spiral, one which you’re only pulled out of when your friend appears in your vision, gripping your arm with relief that is practically palpable in the air around you. He’s covered in sweat and dirt, and you think there’s blood staining his sleeve. Still, it’s a relief to see him, to see a familiar face as the sky turns dark and chaos rages on.
He’s pulling you down the street in the next moment, past the site of a car wreck, with three, four— five cars practically piled on top of one another, one of which is already ablaze. There’s glass and blood and bodies everywhere you look, and it’s a feat that you don’t throw up.
“Robbie, what’s happening? Do you know what’s happening?” You asked desperately, straining to be heard over the sound of people screaming and crying around you.
“I—I don’t know. We need to get out of here, it’s… it’s bad. It’s really, really bad.” Robbie answered, his voice shaking even more than it had when he’d been talking of home, missing his family. You imagine he missed them far more in this moment, just like you did. He didn’t look back at you, but he did lower his hand to your own, rather than gripping your wrist. You squeezed his fingers, breathing through the growing pit in your chest, through the weight settling in your throat.
You’re not sure how long the two of you walk, but by the time you paused, the sun was rising. Half of you is convinced that you’re in some kind of delusional state, delirious enough from your lack of sleep that this is some sort of illusion that your brain is creating. The other half of you, however, knows better. It’s the part of you that keeps that pit in your chest empty, that keeps it all consuming. It’s the part that knows something is very, very wrong.
You kept wondering how this happened. How did the world turn to chaos in a matter of days? Hours? Sure, you’d caught glimpses of news reports following what doctors believed to be some kind of virus outbreak, but that didn’t prepare you for this. It hadn’t seemed so serious yesterday.
Between lapses of silence on your trek with Robbie, he’d told you everything he knew. He told you about how he tried to call his family, about how all the phone lines were down. He told you about his roommate, who had tried to attack him the moment he exited his room. It was only thanks to a few passersby that Robbie had been able to barricade his roommate in their shared dorm.
It was a mass outbreak, it seemed, and clearly, the government had no idea how to handle it. The entirety of the state was in disarray, and there had been orders to shoot civilians on sight. Both of you were terrified of coming across anybody, whether they were Infected or just hostile, neither of you wanted to die. All you wanted was to see your family again.
You knew you never should have come to this college.
Neither you nor Robbie had brought it up, but there was an unspoken question about where you were going to go. Where could possibly be safe? How were you going to get to your families? The two of you lived in opposite directions, so what were you going to do? Split up and try to get back to your home states alone? There was no way to even tell what you were going to find, if you even made it that far. Would your family be there? Would they have left? What if they tried to come to you? What if they were already gone?
There was no way to communicate with either of your families, and the uncertainty was wearing you both down. What if you got to them, and you infected them, somehow? How did you even know if you were Infected? Was there warning signs before you turned violent?
You didn’t know what to do, and it was making you even more anxious. You wanted, more than anything in the world, to be with your dad. A part of you just knew that Joel Miller would know exactly what to do. He would know how to keep you safe. It was the only thing that was giving you any semblance of comfort, the knowing that Joel would look after himself, Tommy and Sarah. All you had to do was find him, and everything would be okay. It had to be.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It was nearing a month since Outbreak Day, as so many had taken to calling it, and everything still felt surreal. You and Robbie had stayed together, and had come across a group of three others who had some supplies. One of them, Benny, was an ex-military man, and coincidentally, he had known your uncle, back in the day. It seemed like too much of a sore subject to ask how, so you refrained. You hoped, however, that if you could manage to find somebody who knew your uncle in the midst of an apocalypse, you’d be able to find him. And with him, would, of course, be your dad and sister. They would have stuck together, you were certain.
Regardless, Benny was keeping you safe. You felt far more comfortable with him than you did the others with him, given he knew your family. There was something reassuring about it.
The five of you were travelling together, avoiding populated areas and sticking to forests and fields to travel when you could. It seemed to be the best way to avoid those who were infected, as many of them were clustered in cities and neighbourhoods. There was more than one time, though, that you came across camps which had been ravaged by the infection. Benny had shot someone on one of these occasions, when she had broke from the tree line and approached you at a run, sobbing through breaths.
You had been terrified at the time — horrified, really, but when you got closer, passing her body, you saw the infection crawling up veins, sprouting from her skin. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the sound of gunfire.
All the work you had put in to get into that stupid college seemed trivial, now. If you thought too long about it, you were almost certain that you would go insane. It didn’t matter how much you regretted all of your past decisions, it would never change where you were. It would never change the fact that you had no idea if your family were okay.
There was no doubt in your mind that you would’ve never survived if it hadn’t have been for Benny. He was strict with you, stopping you from eating anything that could’ve infected you, because he was certain that the mass outbreak must involve some kind of infection in the food supply. He kept you alert at all times, and refused to let you lag behind the rest of them. He kept you alive.
That fact became all the more clear when you when he woke you up, a hand pressed over your mouth. Instinctively, you had panicked, eyes wide and your limbs flailing until you realised who it was, and when he pressed a finger to his lips, you had nodded. You trusted Benny, for whatever reason, he seemed to care about keeping you safe. But Benny had a certain look in his eye that you didn’t like, the furrow of his brow had seemed deeper than usual.
When he pointed towards Robbie, you could see why.
He laid on top of a blanket you had found, his head turned towards you, eyes closed as if he was asleep. But his fingers were twitching, and there was a sheen of sweat across his brow. His skin looked dull, and when you squinted at him, you barely stopped the gasp from escaping your throat. Instead, it had gotten stuck, and you couldn’t breathe as you stared at the Infection raised upon Robbie’s veins.
You had looked towards Benny, and he shook his head. You knew what that meant.
The four of you tried to leave in silence, but Robbie had woken up anyway. He squinted over at you, calling your name in a slurred voice, and his eyes had looked all wrong. Against your better judgement, you turned back towards him, Benny’s hand on your shoulder. “Where’re you goin’?” Robbie slurred out, his voice failing halfway through his words, and he had stumbled to his feet. You had taken a step back at his approach, and he noticed. He looked down at his hands, brows furrowed, eyes taking in the way his fingers had twitched, and he shook his head. “No. No, no, no, no, no!” He had yelled, stumbling around before he had turned back to the four of you. “This ca—can’t be happening.”
“Robbie, I’m—I’m sorry.” You had answered, voice cracking over the words, as you stared at the boy who would never make it home to his family. You had wondered if you would meet the same fate.
“C’mon, kid,” Benny murmured, eyes stony as he had stared at Robbie, his shoulders tense and his hand had hovered over the gun at his hip. “We need to go.” He had said, hand firm at your shoulder as he turned you away from the first friend you had made at the college you’d dreamed of. How had this dream turn into such a nightmare? “Robbie… don’t make me do it. We need to go our separate ways.” Benny had yelled at Robbie, when he had tried to approach the moment your back was turned.
“I’m not infected!” Robbie shouted back, though his twitching limbs and the way he seemed to lack control of his body said otherwise. His eyes were bloodshot, red around the edges, and you had known what was going to happen next. It didn’t make it any easier.
You didn’t look back after the shot went off, after there was a distinctive thud behind you. You knew that you would never get used to the sound of a gun being fired.
∘₊✧───── ─────*───── ─────✧₊∘
***
Joel Miller tried to kill himself.
He doesn’t know how to respond to the fact that he failed. If he’s honest, he doesn’t really know how to respond to anything. He’s not even sure that anything that’s going on is real. How can it be? How can there be zombies in the world? How can his daughter be dead? How can he have no way of knowing if you’re alive?
It’s all been blurry, after Sarah. Joel spends more than a minute thinking about the fact that there’s an after her. She was meant to outlive him — you both were. And here he is, very much alive, while his daughter is dead, and you may be, too.
The world is turning around him and Joel just can’t get his bearings, can’t get past the pain at his temple, the sound of gunshots. How could he live through a bullet to the skull, when his daughter is dead? How could his daughter be dead?
He’s vaguely aware of Tommy at his side. Joel is vaguely aware of everything, really. He can hear all of the screaming, the crying, the questions, but he isn’t really listening. He isn’t really listening to Tommy begging him for something or other, either. And if he had any capacity to feel anything, Joel thinks he might feel bad for ignoring his younger brother, the man who had relied on Joel his whole life, but he just can’t.
All Joel can do is close his eyes, and watch his daughter die in his arms all over again.
All he can do is hear the sound of the severed phone line upon trying to call you. All he can do is think about how scared you must have been, alone in an unfamiliar state, with no way to get home. All Joel can do is revel in all the ways he failed his children.
What does Tommy expect from him? How could Joel possibly go on when he has just lost the most important people in his life? The only people who mattered? Of course, Joel loves his little brother, and he would do almost anything for him, but this? This is asking too much of him. Expecting him to live when his daughter is… when you could be… It’s all too much.
“Joel,” Tommy says, his voice quiet in the raging chaos behind the curtain around them, and he stares at his older brother as if he’s a stranger. The bandage across his head makes him look weird, and the despondent look in his eyes is one that Tommy doesn’t recognise. “Joel.” He says more urgently, grasping onto his brother’s shoulders, seemingly trying to shake him back to reality. “We have to keep going.”
But Tommy’s urgency means nothing to Joel, who can barely see his brother with the way his eyesight is blurring.
Tommy continues nonetheless, grasping Joel’s shoulders more roughly, unable to rid the image of Joel pulling the trigger from his mind. This was his older brother, the man who had almost raised him, who had protected him at every turn. To see that man so… hopeless, so done with the world, it was jarring, even more so than the apocalypse.
“You can’t give up on me, Joel, we gotta go find them.” Tommy says, getting louder and more desperate as the time passes and Joel continues to look dazed and far away. This seems to catch his attention the slightest bit, and when Tommy says your name, Joel’s eyes clear up slightly. “They need us, okay? They need you.”
It might be true, Joel considers. But he’s not sure what he would do if they found you anything other than healthy and well. If you’re dead, too, then that cements Joel’s failure, ensures his passage to join you.
“Okay,” Joel murmurs instead of voicing anything else, realising through the muddle of his thoughts that if you were alive, he needed to find you. “Alright, Tommy, I’m… I’m here.”
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fallatyourfeet · 6 months
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Empty Promises (Tommy X Wife Reader) One-shot
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Summary: Tommy can be a cruel man sometimes, but YN still loves him.
Word count: 746
Warnings: Nothing really.
A/N: This is my first fic in a long long time. It's short but hopefully sweet.
Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.
If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.
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“Tommy, you promised”. Standing at the empty desk of his Arrow House study, you held the telephone receiver to your ear staring at your reflection in the window. It was so dark outside that the pane of glass worked perfectly as a mirror. You looked good. Really good. Beautiful even. Exhaling silently, your eyes dropped to the rug beneath your favourite pair of heels. It felt like forever since you had a reason to put on a beautiful dress and powder your nose. And after countless empty promises from Tommy to get home early and take you out, you thought that tonight he was finally going to come through. No less than an hour ago he called to say he was a minute from leaving the office, and now… well, he was still in that very same office telling you that something had come up and not to expect him home before midnight.
The familiar click of Tommy’s tongue travelled down the telephone line to your ear, “I’m sorry YN, I need to close this deal tonight. It shouldn’t be taking this long… but there was a problem with the contract… it’s getting amended right now.”
Frustrated, you shook your head as if he was standing right in front of you, sure he could hear the shortness in your voice, but you were unable to bite your tongue. “Jees Tommy, I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go… Why couldn’t you let me know an hour ago?” Giving him no chance to reply, you huffed, throwing a hand in the direction of the sitting room, “And what about Polly… she’s already here to mind the kids.”
Clearing his throat, you could swear Tommy’s voice just broke a little. Was he amused by your frustration? “Don’t worry about Polly, she’ll use any excuse to see the children… she won’t care.”
Letting slip an annoyed grumble, you sank into the chair beside you. Staring into the darkness outside your frustration began to fade as disappointment took hold, your grumble finishing with a defeated sigh, “I just wish… I wish… I don’t even know anymore… I miss you, Tommy. I just want you to myself… for one night.” That was the moment you noticed headlights turn in at the top of the driveway. Sitting upright, you focused on the car, but it wasn’t familiar. “Who’s that. Tommy, were you expecting anyone tonight?”
Tommy asked, “What about two nights, eh?”
Confused, you stood up and walked around the desk to the window, scrutinising the car as it made its way up the driveway, “What do you mean?... Are you expecting someone?”
“What about two nights,” Tommy repeated.
The car rolled to a stop out the front of the house, leaving you even more confused. It was a brand-new Rolls-Royce limousine, complete with its very own chauffeur. Suspicion crept upon your voice as you spoke, “What are you talking about, Tommy. What do you mean, two nights?”
A soft chuckle sounded from the other end of the telephone, his voice now clearly amused, “What I mean is, no business, no races, no horses… nothing. Just you and me for the whole weekend to do whatever the hell we want.”
You fell silent a moment, unsure what was happening. This was completely uncharted waters; Tommy had never done anything like this before. You could hardly string a sentence together, “What? Whatever do you… I don’t… What’s going on?”
Mumbling something about you being adorable when you're frustrated and confused, Tommy chuckled again, before elaborating. “See that man out the window, that’s George, your chauffeur. He’s going to collect a suitcase in the foyer that Polly has packed for you and bring you to me.” Giving you a moment to collect your thoughts, he waited before clearing his throat, “So why don’t you go upstairs and kiss the children goodnight for me and tell them we’ll be home in a couple of days.”
Shaking your head, you couldn’t contain the joy in your voice, “You’re such an ass, Tommy. Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of torturing me like that?”
Tommy laughed audibly, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you hurry up and get your own ass down here and you can punish me in any way you want.”
With a devilish voice, you sighed, “Oh Tommy, my love. Don’t you worry about that… I’ve got the whole car ride there to decide… and believe me, I already have a few ideas.”
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heckinconfusedparade · 6 months
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Thinking about how Tails is technically being raised by Sonic.
Like, you have Tails, the child, he’s like 9 years old, 300 IQ, genius inventor who’s still learning and growing.
Then you have Sonic, the legal guardian, who’s like 16, fastest thing alive, free as a bird.
Sonic is very much a live your own way kind of person, and will support Tails on everything he does.
UNLESS THAT THING TAILS DOES IS UNHEALTHY OR DANGEROUS
Like, Tails is inventing, then something comes loose, and he goes “I can fix that in a few minutes! I just need to finish this first!” and suddenly Sonic is there telling him to do it now, because Tails would likely forget, and it could be bad news for him.
Skip out on a meal, or forget to eat something healthy at least once a day to keep the brain prower going? Sonic is there either reminding Tails and tailing him until he eats, or he infiltrates Tails’ kitchen to ensure he gets a warm nutritious meal instead of instant ramen. Sonic didn’t struggle to learn new recipes to keep a 4 year old healthy, just so the same kid can sabotage his health.
If Tails is injured and should be resting, you best believe Sonic is there taking care of him and making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Sonic wonders how this kid is alive. Sonic wonders what made Tails this way.
He realizes the answer is in the house. It’s him. He’s raising the kid, teaching him about life, and this kid is soaking up everything like a super absorbent sponge.
Tails has the greatest cheerleader ever. Sonic is his hero, his best friend, brother, mom, dad, and picket fence. He’s more of a parent to him than his bio parents ever was!
So what if every day is an adventure? Tails learned how to love and embrace opportunity!
Sonic showed him that as terrifying as the world is, you can use that to your advantage and make something of it. Change won’t happen if you sit around and wait for it!
Sonic is not the perfect role model by any means. He’s still a kid himself, with no business raising one. But he loves that kid with all he has, and wouldn’t change him for the world.
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@allmightyscroll-swag came up with an au idea of what if the turtles were Lou Jitsu (he never became Splinter in this au) and Big Mama's bio children.
So I was immediately inspired to draw some half human half Jorōgumo designs!
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Mikey (he/him) looks mostly human from the waist up, aside from the 4 eyes with yellow sclera (and the extra spider arms ig) But from the waist down hes alll spider baby!! Hes pretty half and half, at least compared to his siblings, though he cant produce any webs nor foes he have a poisonous bite he is still incredibly mystically powerful!
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Now onto the twins!! (he/him for Leo and he/they for Donnie)
Theyre much more human presenting than the other two. And look like mirror images of each other. On their more spidery side (the one with the multiple red eyes) they both have patterns that go down the entire length of that side of their body. They both also have light purple hair, just a few shades darker than the hair Big Mama has in her human form, though Leo dyes his.
They both can produce webbing, but not in the same way big mama can make hers, in that they cant spew it as an attack, but can produce it as a steady thread (theyre both awesome at sewing) from the roof of their mouths. They also both have a venomous bite.
They can basically pretend to be human if they cover the more spidery side if their face with hair (thats why they have it grown so long) And hide their extra arms in a hoodie or something.
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And finally we have Raph!! (he/she)
Clearly hes the most spider-like of his siblings, and his appearance often scares even yokai at first, and is often mistaken of an Oni. But have no doubt, she gives the BEST hugs ever!! He can spew webs just like Big Mama too, though her bite isnt as poisonous as the twin's, but has a stronger bite force.
Also this lad is BIG, almost as tall as big mama already! probably because hes afab, and female spiders are usually bigger than male spiders.
And of course, we need a family photo to finish this off:
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Session One; Flyin' Solo - L.JH
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🎙Who; Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x reader 🎙What; smut, friends to fuckers, producer/idol Jihoon 🎙Wordcount; 2.8k 🎙Warnings; profanity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation(m), praise kink, jihoon is a messy boy, i think that's it, let me know if I've missed anything though
Summary; "The last thing you expect when you arrive at your friend's studio to check on him is to find him with a badly concealed erection. And clearly, the right thing to do here is to encourage him to finish what he started under your watchful eye. You know, in case he needs anything."
Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.
-2024 Masterlist- 🎙 In The Studio Masterlist 🎙
A/N- This is part one of a series of Jihoon smut that takes place in his studio. I have no idea how many parts there will be in total, I only have 4(including this one) planned currently, but it's kind of an open-ended series anyway. No plot, just cock <3
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Honestly, it's not unusual for Jihoon to ignore your messages and leave you on read. It frustrated you to no end at the start of your friendship but these days you know it's his way of telling you that he's seen your message and is aware but just doesn't have the time to respond right now. He never fails to respond later though when he has the chance and often with an apology for not responding faster; which can come in the form of literally verbally apologising or simply offering to pay for dinner. So these days, you don't really mind the lack of response and honestly always assume he'll reply in a few hours.
However, what you do mind is when it's been multiple days of him leaving messages on read. It's not that you take it as a personal attack, because you know he values your friendship too much for that. But you do know it means that Lee Jihoon is being a damn idiot and not taking care of himself yet again.
Which brings us to you once again turning up unannounced at his studio ready to physically drag his ass out to get some fresh air and food. Well, drag is an exaggeration because that muscle-ridden fool is too strong for you to move, and you know that if he truly didn't want you to get your way he could easily overpower you. Yet he never does and always lets you yank him out of his studio, once he's saved his work of course, because he knows you only have his best interests in mind.
You've already pressed the buzzer once, and usually that's enough to have Jihoon answering the door yet this time he doesn't. Perhaps he's fallen asleep, but if that's so, you think it's even more reason to get him out of there and tuck him up in his own comfortable bed. Just as you press the buzzer again, the door creaks open and Jihoon's slightly wide eyes peek out. Clearly, he had not been sleeping, he's far too alert.
"Oh, hi," He mutters and licks his lips while glancing over his shoulder quickly before looking back at you. "I'm kind of in the middle of something."
"It's been days, you gremlin, come out of your cave." You retort, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a firm look. The same look you always give him when he's being careless with his health like this.
Jihoon pulls a face, considering and tucks his features behind the door out of view for a second while still holding it in the barely open position, before he sighs and steps back while pulling the door open and not making eye contact with you. "Just let me save."
You hum in agreement and step into the studio after removing your shoes on the mat beside his own, then move over to sit on the couch in wait. Jihoon shuts the door and then shuffles over to sit at his desk. You're so used to him by now that you immediately know something is up, even if you can't tell what it is. He's moving so awkwardly and angled with his back to you. The tense line of his shoulders loosens a little once he's in his seat and tucked under his desk but he still isn't his usual self. "Ji?" You worry. He hums. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yep, fine, I'm fine." He replies, nodding quickly.
"You're lying."
"I'm not."
"Don't you fucking dare. You know I hate it when people lie to me." You warn, frowning at him. He knows that very well and always backs you up when you're annoyed at someone else lying to you. "Tell me the truth."
"Just," He sighs and waves a hand without looking at you. "Give me a minute, I'll be fine in a minute."
"You can't always brush things aside, Jihoon, it's not healthy." He mutters something under his breath. "What?"
"Nothing, don't worry, just talking to myself."
You stare at the back of his head for a minute. He perhaps looks even more tense now that you've called him out. "Face me." He freezes.
"What?"
"Turn your ass around and face me, Lee Jihoon." You demand.
Jihoon swears under his breath at the use of his full name, knowing that you're really not fucking around. Unless he wants to truly piss you off, he has no choice but to listen. He's made the mistake again of ignoring you before and seen your mutual friends do it too, it never ends well.
"Fine, fuck," He grumbles and presses save before slowly, reluctantly pushing his chair out from under the desk to allow him to gradually spin to face you. His face is a wonderful shade of embarrassed pink as he keeps his head turned away so that he doesn't have to see your reaction.
It takes you less than a fraction of a split second to notice the problem. It's pretty fucking prominent in his dark grey shorts, after all. Honestly, impressively prominent. "Huh," You comment both in surprise that you seem to have interrupted your friend in the midst of taking care of himself, and the size of the issue at hand. Or well, no longer being at hand is the real issue here if you want to be technical about it.
"Don't," He begs in a mutter.
"Don't what? I'm not doing anything! Though clearly, you were." You smirk at him, though he's still not looking at you. He sighs and leans his face onto his left palm where his elbow is resting on his armrest at his side. His blush is even darker now.
"Just shut up, please,"
"No,"
"You're such a fucking brat,"
"Mm, yep." You confirm shamelessly. Jihoon lifts his head just enough to peer over at you intrigued. In this setting, in this context, your agreement sounds more like an admittance to bedroom habits and he can't help but wonder if that's true or not. "Well, I came here to check on you, make sure you're taking care of yourself and I clearly interrupted that." He makes a frustrated sound at your teasing and opens his mouth to respond while straightening a little, less embarrassed now. But your words cut him off. "So don't let me stop you, Jihoonie."
Jihoon's mouth closes slowly, then opens again before he licks his suddenly dry lips and manages to get a response out, oh so eloquently. "What?"
"I said, don't let me stop you."
"Yeah, I heard that."
"Then what's the problem?" You motion to his crotch in a manner that very much looks like you're inviting him to his own body. You are. "Go on."
"With you there?" He mumbles, very aware that his cock is coming back to life at the thought and hoping you don't notice.
You do and smirk as your eyes watch the already impressive bulge against his thigh swell. "I fucking knew you like being watched." You grin at him teasingly and cross your arms over your chest cockily.
"And you like watching."
"Yep so, gonna give us what we both want?" You goad, raising an eyebrow at him and slouching into a more comfortable position. Really settling in for the show.
"Fuck," He gives in with a strong exhale and reaches down to yank the tie of his shorts open so that the waistband will loosen enough to allow him to reach inside. For a split second, he hesitates, his right hand gently wrapped around his hard length, but then he looks at you and sees that you're already intently staring at his crotch, so he throws all caution to the wind and tugs his cock out.
"Huh," You repeat your earlier sound of a comment at the sight of his exposed erection. It's definitely bigger than you had expected, thicker too and surprisingly pretty for a cock. You kind of want to go over and offer a hand, and by hand you mean your mouth, but this isn't about you, it's about Jihoon so you stay in place.
"Don't say something weird." He requests, sounding like he's seconds from scolding you.
"Weird? Me? Never," You snigger. "I was just thinking you're bigger than I expected, is all."
"Than expected?" He repeats with interest lacing his words as his hand starts to slowly stroke his length, fingers just about overlapping around the girth. It's impressive, you'll admit.
"Yeah,"
"That sounds like you've thought about my cock,"
"What if I have?" He hisses a little and tightens his grip.
"You have?" You hum shamelessly. Jihoon's head tips back fractionally at the thought of you imagining him. He doesn't even know what you imagined exactly; if it was genuinely a sexual thought of the two of you or just a curiosity about what he's hiding under his clothes. All he needs to know is you thought of him in some state of undress and he's speeding up his actions as the arousal in his veins burns brighter.
"I may have been wrong about your size but I was right about something."
It takes Jihoon a second to react, he's so focused on the pleasure rapidly building in his body. He had been so close to cumming before you interrupted that he knows it won't take long at all. Especially not with your intense gaze glued to him, he can feel it and knows you haven't looked away once even if his eyes are currently closed. You were on the money about him, he really is a giant fucking exhibitionist so having you watching him is sending him hurtling towards his orgasm at a speed that would be embarrassing if he wasn't so fucking horny. Jihoon rolls his head as he opens his eyes to look at you. "About - shit- what?" He wonders, swallowing at the look in your eyes as you drag them up his body to meet his hooded gaze.
"How fucking pretty you'd look." A low moan leaves Jihoon's parted lips as his eyes roll a little. "Oh, you like being praised, pretty boy?"
"Fuck off,"
"Really? Want me to leave and let you finish this all alone with no one to watch and tell you how gorgeous you look right now?"
"Shit," His face scrunches a little in concentration, eyes tightly closed and hand picking up enough speed that he's letting out consistent little grunts and moans of pleasure.
"Well?" You tease, watching as more precum dribbles out of his cock for his hand to immediately swipe over his length and ease the glide.
"N-no, fuck, stay, tell me." He insists, tone taking on a desperate edge. "Tell-tell me. Please. Fuck, 'm so close, baby,"
"Good, I want to see you cum, Jihoonie, I bet you're going to look so fucking beautiful. You already do. Look so good touching yourself like this, Ji, so fucking pretty. Wish I could frame you; pin you up on the wall to look at whenever I want." You're honestly not paying much attention to what you're saying, you're too enthralled by the rolling of his hips into his fist. It's desperate, all wet with audible squelches of his precum under his palm. And it's perhaps one of the hottest things you've seen in person. He's not even doing anything particularly special, just jerking himself off in front of you but he truly looks breathtaking and so desperate to cum it's driving you kind of insane. "Being so good for me, aren't you? Letting me see you all pretty like this. Going to cum, yeah? Show me how pretty you look?"
Jihoon does not have the ability to react other than nodding his head quickly, mouth hanging open. And then he's cumming, eyes rolling back as his back arches away from the chair and filthy moans spilling from his lips. You watch almost hypnotised as he cums all over his thighs and the seat between his spread legs. There's a surprising amount of it and at the back of your mind you wonder if he has a spare pair of shorts or sweatpants hanging around, but at the forefront, all you can wonder is what his cum tastes like.
"Good boy," You mutter out when his hand stops shakily milking his length and prolonging his pleasure. Jihoon's lips twitch up a little at the praise in an automatic response but he's too busy floating on cloud nine while trying to suck some oxygen into his heaving lungs to respond.
For a moment, you just watch Jihoon as he slumps in his seat absolutely sated and relaxed, hand still around his cock but just holding it now pointlessly. And then you get up and grab the packet of wipes from the desk. You're not sure what the boundaries are here, so even though you'd ordinarily clean up your partner, you just tap the packet against his left shoulder until he reaches up and takes one from the opening.
"Thanks," He murmurs and slowly opens his eyes while tilting his head down to look down at his crotch. "Shit." He pulls a face.
"Messy boy, huh?"
"Shut up." He grabs more wipes from the packet and gets to work doing his best to clean up.
"Do you have spare shorts?"
"Mm, yeah," He motions over to a cupboard so you go inside and find a stack of clothing there. "Actually, can you grab sweats instead?" You hum and grab a pair of sweatpants before returning to him.
Patiently, you stand there and watch as Jihoon finishes cleaning up to the best of his abilities then removes his shorts and boxers. "Oh, I didn't grab boxers," You point out.
"Don't have any there anyway." He shrugs and takes the sweatpants from you to pull up over his legs and ass and tie the string together to keep them on his hips. You just stare at him dumbly. Something about the thought of Jihoon not wearing underwear under those very worn sweatpants makes your brain short-circuit a little. "You alright?" He muses when he looks up and notices you staring down at his bottom half.
"No,"
"No?" He laughs and picks up his clothes from the floor to carefully ball up, dirty sides turned in on themselves and shove them into his backpack to take home.
You don't elaborate and he doesn't ask, figuring you'd say something if it's important or relevant to him, even if he's pretty sure you're definitely thinking about him right now.
Jihoon tidies up the studio and shuts down his computer in calm quiet before moving back over to stand in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder ready to leave. "So uh, I'm thinking that maybe we should do that again sometime?" He suggests, cheeks pinkening again to a pretty, soft shade. You blink at him, trying to bring yourself to the topic and not think about his cock flopping around in his sweatpants. "Yes, no?"
"Again?" You question and he nods. "Watching you cum?"
"Yeah and well, maybe I can watch you too, if you want?"
"I'd rather you fuck me." You mutter without thought making him gawp at you. "Wait, shit-"
"Okay." Jihoon quickly snaps back to reality and nods, cutting off your rush to try and correct what you had momentarily worried was a step too fucking far. "I'll fuck you whenever you want, babygirl, just tell me when."
"Now. Now would be good. You're really hot and I am wet." His eyes widen then turn hooded rapidly before he reaches out to grab the front of your jumper and pull you towards him.
"You're wet?" You nod shamelessly. "For me?"
"Yeah," You pout and tap your fingers against his chest mindlessly. "You should really do something about it."
Jihoon's voice is a low murmur when he responds. "I should." He agrees and then licks his lips. "But I don't have any condoms here so we're going to have to go get some."
"I have some at home." You declare, very willing to take him home and hopefully spend the night working your way through your supply of condoms. "And you should really get some for here for next time."
"Oh, I plan on it. Gonna bend you over my desk one day, yeah?"
"Fuck yeah." You glance at his lips then rush over to the door.
"What the fuck? I thought we were going to at least kiss." He points out puzzled, and a little offended and disappointed.
"I'm too horny, I don't trust myself to have the self-control to stop right now. So let's fucking go Lee Jihoon."
He knows better than to say no when you use his full name. Not that he'll ever say no when it comes to fucking you, as you very soon find out as you begin a wonderful, intensely pleasurable journey of fucking Lee Jihoon. And it all started in the studio.
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A/N- Fun fact; I almost put "put you on my shelf" instead of "pin you up on the wall" but the shelf one made me imagine a tiny little figurine sized Jihoon violently beating his meat so I had to stick with the wall comment instead lol
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nvoirs · 1 month
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Pairing: Nerd Leon x Nerd female reader. Creds to the plot by @asmodaywritesstuff and also just a genuine present to them.
Disclaimers: P in V, both Leon and reader are virgins, unprotected sex, cussing and fingering.
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“I’ve tested you on this one so many times, maybe we should just stop working.” You yawned, stretching your arms behind your head.
“Well ok then I guess.” Leon mumbled, placing his Bio textbook face down on your desk, adjusting his glasses to peer over at you. 
Oh. your tank top had ridden up and he could just see a tiny bit of your hot pink bra showing.
He turned red looking away quickly and coughing. “So uh I was wondering, have you ever been asked out?”
You perked up raising your head at his question, your top falling down into its original place. “Yeah one or two times, but more or less it was a prank. You know like hey let's see who can get in that nerds pants first kind of being asked out.” You shrugged your shoulders, not seeming bothered.
“Oh..” He stumbled over his words. “I’m sorry I didn’t know people could be so cruel..” You chuckled at him, tossing a hand in the air. “It’s no biggie, seriously Leon, and besides I already like someone.”
He froze at those words. You already liked someone? “Oh.. mind telling me who it is, I mean I am your best friend after all.” He grinned.
God he really had no clue, you wanted to kiss his stupidly perfect face so badly it hurt your heart a little. “Well I’m not sure about that.”
“Oh..” He looked dejected staring at his lap. You bit your lip feeling slightly regretful so you spoke up. “Well I could give you clues.” Leon’s head shot up after that. “Yes I’d like that.”
“Well..” You sat cross legged. “He’s taller than me, has a nice physique and he just has the cutest smile I’ve ever seen.”
Leon huffed, “That’s so generic, I’ll never get the right answer.” he rolled his eyes at you.
“Wait, you didn’t let me finish yet.” You poked him in the side. “Oh ok.” He said sitting up, you wouldn’t be surprised if he grew a tail and it started to wag.
“He’s got the softest hair, it's a nice sandy colour, his eyes are the shade of the ocean and he’s my best friend but I don’t know how to tell him.” You choked on the last word staring at Leon, hoping that he felt the same.
He couldn’t believe his ears, you liked him? This was the greatest news he’d ever heard and he wanted to spin you around and around and- 
“Leon, are you ok? Sorry if you don’t feel the same I-”
He captured his lips on your own, grabbing the fabric of your tank top and grasping it. You gasped when he let go, your lips popping and you stared at him starstruck.
“That was my first kiss..”
“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-” You grabbed him by his t-shirt going back in for round two. At first Leon was hesitant, not wanting to go too far. He’d tried to learn how to kiss good multiple times, so he just hoped he was doing good. You both crashed onto your bed, Leon caging you between his arms so as to not crush you. His tender kisses he was leaving down your jaw and neck made the sensations in your stomach burst, you could feel yourself becoming wet from his kisses grinding up on him.
The string of spit that left your lips still connected to his made Leon hard. He wiped it away looking at you. Flustered and the shade of a tomato, he wondered if you wanted to take it further.
“Leon please, I need you.” You whispered. He nodded at you squeezing your calf. “How about we revise first?” You looked at him confused. “You can’t be serious Leon.” He shook his head at you, “Not what you're thinking, we can visually revise our human anatomy now can’t we.” You were lost for words, how was this the same guy that begged you to play monopoly with him.
“I’d love it.” You watched him kneel in front of your sprawled out body. “May I?” He looked at your shorts. “Yeah please take it off.” He nodded, pulling off your shorts, and slowly began to peel off your panties. The strings of slick that were attached made him groan, a noise you’d never heard before.
“Fuck me.” He whispered under his breath, once he had a crystal clear view of your pussy and your cute clit. “Leon, are you ok?” You said worriedly, beginning to shift.
“I’m fine, just relax baby just relax I got this.” “Wait Leon, I’m.. I’ve never done this before so please be gentle.” Leon paused, “It’s ok baby we’re just two virgin morons trying to figure it all out.” That made you laugh, holding his hand tighter.
His singular finger that ghosted over your pussy began to spread your folds. Collecting your fluids and smearing them over his double digits. He found your clit with little to no effort, and began to slowly circle it. That made you whine, your whole clenching on nothing as he began to get faster and faster. He stopped all of a sudden the build up stopped. He began to ease his finger inside your pussy, causing you to whimper and shiver against him.
When his finger was half way in he started to pull it out again before pushing it backing in. He pumped his one finger in and out to get you nice and stretched for his cock. “More.” You said hoarse, gripping Leon's free hand. “Ok.” He smiled at you, kissing your forehead as he added another digit. You could feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you came harder than you had ever done with your own fingers. You groaned as he removed his fingers from your cunt before shakily sucking one tasting your juices.
“You taste so good, I want you to sit on my face.” He whined on his knees in front of you, he was begging for it. You pulled your t-shirt over your head brandishing the fuschia coloured bra you were wearing. “Maybe next time, I just want to uh… do it you know?”
He raised a brow at you, a quizzical expression splayed across. “Oh ok I get it, so you want me to fuck you?” your throat turned dry and your words were stuck inside the tunnel of your dry throat. “Yes.” You whispered, hoping he even heard your answer.
Leon had you lay back on the comfort of your soft pillows, propping one leg onto his shoulder (He’d seen the position in a porn video) before lining himself up with your entrance. “Relax f’me yeah? I’m just as nervous as you, Jesus.”
He bit his lip, holding back a moan as your warm, firm hole squeezed him as he pushed through the ring of muscle. “Oh fuck your so.. Tight, I don’t want to cum yet.” He pushed in further before his hands landed on your hips, showing that this was all new to him. You gasped as he began to rut into you, his hips moving gently to lessen the pain of popping your cherry.
“You're so pretty you know that? God I love watching your tits when we’re studying.” He groaned into your ear, hot breath fanning over it causing shivers to erupt though your body. “Perv.” He smiled at that, the boyish grin he had made your stomach flutter. “Leon... I'm gonna cum.” You drew him nearer with your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips trailing over as you both moaned.
“Come for me then baby, don’t hold back.” With his hair falling in front of his face and his hands tightening around your hips to push you into the bed, Leon murmured to you. He spread your thighs apart with one hand while massaging your clit with the other. As he played with the small bundle of nerves between your inner thighs, his fingers moved sensually and at a medium rhythm. As you clamoured and squeezed around his cock.
“Ngh leon I’m cumming fuck!” You grinded against him as you came wrapping your legs around his waist like a spider's web. “F..fuck me to.” He sealed his eyes shut before pulling out of your little hole cumming all over the mound of your pussy.
“That was amazing.” You were out of breath as you tugged leon down next to your own body. Sprawled out like this not giving a shit that your Bio exam was tomorrow. “Yeah it was great, so does this mean we’re a thing now?” He stammered, twisting and pulling at his fingers.
“Of course.” You cupped his face in your hands, his soft skin dimpling between your fingers. You kissed his dusky moles, his cleft and lastly his forehead.
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m1ssunderstanding · 3 months
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 2.1
Cynthia and John are worse and crazier for admitting what they admitted in the bio. But Jane and Paul are not exempt.
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Will forever love this pic of Paul and Julian. He does not look like the fun uncle. He looks tired and dependable. Just stepped out of the womb as a father, didn't he? The sperm that fertilized his egg probably passed some fatherly advice and hair tussles to the other sperm as it passed them. 
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They should've bought the fucking island.
They never look more like a couple than when the women they're actually dating are right next to them. 
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The India footage actually looks so beautiful. Obviously it's a beautiful place, but they all genuinely look so free and at peace there. It really could've been so good for them. Getting enlightened, getting soberish, growing closer as a band, taking a much-needed rest. It should've been good. 
The music choices in this documentary! The drastic shift from, “all you need is love” and “the dream I had was true” and “I don't need much to set me free.” to Paul leaving to “yes I'm lonely. Wanna die.” “I'm going insane.” “Look at me. Who am I supposed to be?” 8d8 psychic damage. And the thing is it's real. John really did flip a switch, just like that.
Smashing my head into a wall. It's the same as Yoko's quote about how ‘nobody hurt John more than Paul.’ Really Pete? Worse than after his mum died? Really Yoko? More than that drunk cop? Paul, what the fuck did you do to him in India, seriously, because at this point in the doc I can't accept the theory that it was just some lack of communication, I just can't. 
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It's also telling to me that when John's losing it, everyone's solution is some time alone with Paul. Nobody panic. Paul can fix him. Little do they know Paul's the one that broke him. Or maybe they do know and that's only another reason they know Paul's the only man for the job?
Old-fashioned ad voice: You liked Protective Jesus Scandal Paul? You'll love Protective LSD Scandal John! Really. Before the question is even out, he's making fun of it. I think he cuts off the interviewer at least three times with jokes before he can get the sentence out, and by the time he is, Paul's giggling too hard to feel bad about his little PR fuck-up.
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Then he lets Paul talk a bit before jumping back in, this time with his Hard Man suit on. It's just so good. A testament to their unconditional love, really. Because, clearly, Paul's just hurt John pretty bad. And yet, here John is. Using every trick he's got to defend his friend. 
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But actually, though John is supposedly the one everyone's worried about, Paul's doing a pretty shit job of being the “stable” one. This entire press tour he's either fucking blazed and laughing at everything or disassociated and not contributing.
(((except during that political discussion – again! Paul secretly has actual thoughts on actual things?!)))
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But for the most part, John's absolutely holding down the fort. I wonder if this is another case of everyone – all their friends and business associates, just like we as a fandom still do now – assuming John is the problem child, and Paul's the strong one, but actually they're both both. 
Back to the political interview. They're just so in sync. Finishing each other's sentences when you're talking about the weather or your shared work is one thing. Finishing each other's sentences on complex topics like why poor whites often vote bigots in or the cause of rampant misinformation is quite another. 
“Letting his dad cut his hair at sixteen, seventeen.” You all know that John hates Jim quote. 
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John: so there's war, and vegetables. There's relativity and absolute.  Paul (absolutely smitten): that's great Johnny. Int: that's rather hard for people to interpret. John: well if they can't interpret it now, maybe they will later..... 1. John really was extremely intelligent. 2. That last statement sums up Beatles historiography.
Paul really just Won't be alone with John, will he? Well, two can play at that game, Paul, and John's going to win, let me tell you. 
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But he's going to do one last panic grab for attention first.
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I really do think if John had done something like that *before* Paul would've given him that attention. Told him he's being insane and taken him home to splash some cold water on him or something and then given him whatever softness Paul was capable of. But not anymore. 
I wonder if Paul could go back to 1966 if he just wouldn't have taken John to that Indica show where he met Yoko. If he would've just said “okay John, sure, let's just stay home and trip on the couch tonight.” I don't know.
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Anyway, Yoko gets an A+ for persistence. Imagine being Paul, George, or Ringo, though, and John is suddenly madly in love with this woman whose been begging you all (and then him specifically) for a platform for over a year? It would be weird to say the least. 
John: don't you hate me? I'm crazy, you know. Paul: no I don't hate you. John: aren't you pissed at me now, Paul? Even a little bit? Paul: I'm very proud of you. It's the unstoppable force (“Don't ‘nore me, Mimi!”) vs the immovable object (“I learned to put a shell around me”.) Someone get them some professional help before they nuke the whole world. 
“There is, however, a desire to get power in order to use it for good.” One of those quotes that just really lets you see a person, you know? Benevolent dictator Paul. 
Yoko, why are you talking about how bad your boy doesn't want to fuck you right in front of all his closest friends and on record for posterity? If you have to be talking about your sex life, shouldn't you be lying about how insanely horny he is for you? Oh, right, she will think of that, just not yet. 
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And then she waxes poetic about how turned on John is when he's working on music with Paul. Cool. Smart. Thanks for that, though, genuinely.
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And Then (gosh, Yoko is such an asset to Beatles history when she's not actively spreading misinformation. Everyone give her a hand) she goes on about how Paul goes out of his way to make her feel respected and even valued. Compare that to John and Linda, anyone? And I want to be clear, I'm not saying this means John cares too much and Paul doesn't care at all, which might be the surface read. I just think John's reaction was to scream in everyone's face that he was in pain and Paul's was to insist ad nauseam that he was fine. You know?
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chococoveredsmores · 1 year
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miguel as pseudo big brother to a reader kinda similar to miles? i was thinking abt that one scene in the first movie when sp//dr broke down and noir carried peni n started feening for platonic miguel 🥹🥹
MIGUEL O'HARA as a big brother figure
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yes sorry kinda evil gif choice. anyway listen it is literally my second day on the job so i'm so sorry if miguel is ooc in Any way
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despite being such a stoic on the outside, miguel would lowkey have a soft spot for you. he is a big man with a big wall but damn are you so good at climbing over that damn wall
think those tiktoks of how miguel would have a soft spot for mayday and like burst into tears at her sight but he hides it for you bcus he needs to act Cool™ around the team.
he wouldn't outwardly show affection through physical touch or anything, but the GESTURES !! OH THE GESTURES !!
his love languages are definitely gift giving and acts of service!!
also he struggles in communicating his appreciation for you directly but you can definitely see it through the small acts he does for you everyday, like taking the time to check on your mental state every other day (he's trying his best okay).
if he's passing by the cafeteria to get an empanada or something as a snack, he's also buying a whole meal for you whether you like it or not. if you already had lunch he does Not care and you will take it.
he definitely does push you harder, but only because he knows you're capable of so much.
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As you run your errands in spider-society, somehow balancing your bio homework that was due the next hour along with the numerous tasks assigned against the multiversal anomalies popping up everywhere. Overwhelmed was an understatement for how you were feeling—that's when a notif popped up on your watch, summoning you to Miguel's spidercave (whatever they call it). "What is it this time?" You say begrudgingly, a little pissed off that your own damn boss summoned you while you were so busy. "Have you forgotten about your own task report? The one issued around a week ago?" Miguel doesn't even face you properly, face obstructed by his countless computer screens. Well, looks like this isn't even worth his damn time.
Sighing, you shuffle through your backpack, past the textbooks and random pens and trinkets before finding a crumpled sheet of paper that you pass to him. "...And can you tell me exactly what this means?" Miguel attempts to smoothen out the report to not much avail, and your unintelligible writing is... something for sure. "Well, so ya see—" What would've been your explanation was cut off by a loud rumble, originating from your stomach. GLRLGLRGLRLGLRGLRLGLR. "..."
"......."
After what could've been the most awkward silence in your life, Miguel finally breaks the ice with a question you didn't really have an answer to.
"When was the last time you've eaten?" "Um..." —Your stomach threatened to roar again— "Like, yesterday night..." "And do you know what time it is?" "....4 in the afternoon? "Ay, coño..." Miguel mutters to himself, as he presses two fingers to his forehead in disappointment.
"No, listen, it's just that I couldn't really eat because I had this biology thing that I had to finish today and I'm not really done with it yet and I hate bio and our teacher sucks and the anomalies too and—" "Okay, okay! I get it!" Your frantic attempts to defend yourself are then abruptly interrupted by the toss of a still-warm empanada container, along with a bottle of water stuck to it via spiderweb. Your eyes immediately brighten up at the sight of food, and your muscles tug into a smile at the man you were so fiercely defending yourself against two seconds ago. "Thank you, thank you!" When the hell did he get that and why save it for me? "Yeah, yeah. Just leave." Miguel spat out, a twinge of embarrassment showing through his features. As you waltz out the room, merienda* in hand, he watches you, not noticing the slight smile forming in his lips.
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*merienda is like a snack you eat midway through the afternoon! since its 4pm i thought that was much more fitting than like dinner or something
shoutout to vyn (@prinzevyn) for the help w miguel's character!! unfortunately not awake to beta read aaaAaahhh......
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