#i think for me i'd go about it one of two ways:

[glittergoblinzz]

Ghoap (well, Cbf!Soap mainly) asking Afab!Reader to be their surrogate (pt 1)

CW: Talks of surrogacy/pregnancy

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

The last thing you expected when you came home after work one day was your friend Johnny sitting on your couch. You two have been friends since childhood and have been inseparable, even after he joined the military. You trusted the man with your life and would let him come over whenever he felt like it, going as far as giving him an extra key to your flat in Sunderland.

At first, you thought something bad must have happened since you could see he was clearly stressed about something. You drop your bag down and go over to the couch, sitting next to him

"Johnny, what are ya doing here? Is something wrong?"

He looks up at you with those crystal blue eyes, running a hand through his mohawk.

"Nah, there's nothing wrong per say, but...there is somethin' I need to ask ya, lass. Somethin' big...."

"What is it?"

Johnny pauses, unsure of how to ask this. After a moment, a voice from behind you two speaks up. A deep, gravely voice with a Mancunian accent. The unexpected voice causes you to jump slightly and turn around. It was Johnny's husband, Simon. Johnny had told you about him numerous times but you had never gotten to meet him in person before. His brown eyes bore down at you. It was hard to tell what exactly he was thinking but from the tone of his voice and how blunt he was, it was clear he wasn't exactly happy.

"He wants to know if you'd be our surrogate."

This makes you pause. They want you to be their surrogate? The MacTavishs? Really? You understand that you and Johnny are good friends and all, but you figured they would have gone through an agency or even adopted instead. You look back at Johnny, who was giving Simon a bit of a look himself.

"Johnny, is this true?"

Johnny turns back to you and his face softens quite a bit before he looks down at the ground.

"Aye...it's true, lass. I know this is a really, really big favour to ask, but...."

Johnny looks back up at you and gently grabs your hand.

"Could ya do this for us? We'll pay ya, take care of ya. Simon's done took a step back from the military for this next part of our lives so you'll always have at least one of us around at all times."

The look of desperation in Johnny's eyes makes your heart break for him a little bit. You knew he's always wanted to be a dad one day, have a family of his own. You fold your arms over your chest and lean back into the couch a bit, thinking it over....

"If I do this for you....how would we be doing this? Do you already have an egg from a donor? Are you just needing me to carry your child for you?"

Johnny sighs

"No. We'd be hoping ya wouldn't mind doing it....the ol' fashioned way...."

"The old fashioned way...? You mean... You'd sleep with me to knock me up?"

Before Johnny could say anything else, Simon interjects.

"No. Not him. I'd be doing it..."

You look up at Simon, clearly shocked. You barely knew this man and here he was saying that he'd be the one sleeping with you. You've only heard tidbits about him from Johnny. Sure, Johnny made him out to be a good man who liked to crack jokes and was a pretty laid back guy but from this first encounter, he doesn't seem like that at all. This made you extremely hesitant to help your friend out in starting his family....

Seeing the look of worry on your face, Johnny clears his throat causing you to look back at him again.

"Don't mind him, lass. He's just a bit....protective. Simon doesn't feel comfortable at the thought of me sleeping with someone else. I hope ya can understand that? And don't worry, like I said before...ya don't need to say yes now. Ya can give your answer later on, after you've spent a bit of time with Simon and have gotten to know him better. I wouldn't want ya sleeping with someone ya barely know."

You slowly nod. You could understand that. You and Johnny have known each other for much longer and it wasn't a secret he had a crush on you in the past....so Simon most likely felt the relationship would be threatened if Johnny was the one to sleep with you, worrying that would rekindle the old feelings he had for you from your younger years. Giving a slight sigh, you smile at Johnny and slightly give his hand a squeeze before letting it go.

"Yeah, okay. I'll give it a shot for you, Johnny. I'll try to get to know Simon better before I make my full decision..."

Johnny's face lights up and he immediately leans in to hug you tightly. He pulls away after a moment with a huge grin on his face.

"Thanks, lass. I promise Simon isn't normally like this. He just....has a hard time trusting people he doesn't know. He'll warm up to ya eventually."

This earns a scoff from Simon as he turns his head away from you two. Johnny laughs and gets up from the couch, moving behind it towards Simon.

"Lighten up, love. I know ya two pretty well....I think you'll get along in no time at all..."

He looks at Simon lovingly as he brushes his hand through Simon's short, black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead. Simon frowns a bit, some of the scars on his face becoming more prominent; especially the ones on his upper lip and cheek.

"Really, Johnny? In front of her?"

Johnny only laughs in response, nodding.

"Aye, in front of her. Now come on, we should probably let her be now..."

He didn't need to tell Simon twice. The Brit immediately started heading towards the door without another word, only stopping in the doorway to wait for Johnny. Before leaving, Johnny turns to you again.

"Again, thank you. This really does mean a lot to me, and especially Simon....even if the brute doesn't want to admit it..."

Another groan is heard from Simon, who's barely...just barely....got a slight upward curl of his lips going on.

"...So I'll text ya soon with some dates and times so we can all get together and hang out a bit, so you can Simon can get to know each other better, yeah?"

You nod, smiling as you stand up and give Johnny another quick hug.

"Yeah. Sounds good. See you later, Johnny. Simon."

You give a slight nod to Simon, who hesitates before giving a slight nod back. Johnny turns and walks to Simon, taking Simon's hand in his before the couple leaves your house.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap #ghoap au #ghoap fic #simon riley x you #john soap mctavish x reader #cbf!soap

[rafesfavgirl]

not like you — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')

❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to thе backseat no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.

words: 2.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material

"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.

it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.

"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.

was he nervous?

a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.

"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.

"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"

"rafe, what is it?"

"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."

you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"

"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.

"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.

"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.

"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.

"as my girlfriend?"

"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."

rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.

"your parents won't mind?"

you shake your head, "they're sleeping."

—

“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.

“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.

…what the hell?

“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.

“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.

sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”

“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“

“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.

“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.

he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 

once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.

"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.

"you like?"

"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."

"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."

while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.

"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."

"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."

you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.

"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."

"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."

"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.

"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"

"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.

"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.

there was just no escaping him.

his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.

a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 

"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"

"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.

"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."

you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.

"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."

"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."

jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.

you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."

—

"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.

"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."

"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."

"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."

you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."

"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."

you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."

"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."

"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"

he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."

a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"

"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.

"where is she, anyway?"

"she went to go find you, actually," he says.

"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."

half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.

"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."

"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."

—

you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.

"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.

when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"

she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"

you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.

"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."

"you—"

"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."

you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.

damn that felt good.

—

"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.

"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.

you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"

"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.

they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?

"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."

"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.

"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"

"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."

you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."

to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.

your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.

"how's that?"

"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.

"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."

"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”

his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."

and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.

"not even jj?"

you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."

"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.

a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"

—

"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.

the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.

you shrug, jokingly. "wine."

"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."

without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.

he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."

"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.

you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.

you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.

"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."

you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.

you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.

you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"

"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."

he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.

he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.

you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.

"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.

his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.

"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"

"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.

you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.

"did that answer your question?" you pant.

you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."

"and how do you feel about me?"

he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."

anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @immyowndefender @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @ilyrafe @callsignwidow @zyafics

#rafe cameron #rafe #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #outer banks #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fluff #cute rafe #rafe being bf material #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic

[theminecraftbee]

Just out of curiosity, do you know any alternative ways of showing types of relationships that could be used on ao3? I find the & and / method to be very constraining, especially with ambiguous or multi-dimensional relationships. & for platonic and / for romantic does not allow for a proper representation of nonstandard relationships, for example an enemy/loathing or polyamorous relationship. (Homestuck quadrants are their own thing and are not what I am asking for/about.)

answer that answers your question:

yes and no. if you just want another category of markers to exist, i know you said no homestuck quadrants, but those are probably most commonly used, although they're all synned to the / tag. i've seen some exchanges that want to differentiate use /& together, i've seen ? be used, and i've seen some invent their own tag (largely exchanges use these for matching purposes and it's rare but i HAVE seen it). however, there's no unifying convention, and ao3 will eventually syn all of these to either the / or & tag (usually the / unless the wranglers have a very good reason to think it's the & tbh). so know that even if you use your own symbol, it will show up in the relationship tag it ends up synned to.

one of the most common solutions to this is to use the symbol closest to what you want--personally i tend to just use the & unless there's fic content i think gen fans would really hate, since & is the tag that covers the much wider spectrum of relationships in my head, although some people will differ--and use freeform tags to disambiguate. for example, last days has the & tag for joe and cleo, along with a "queerplatonic relationships" tag! i believe "ambiguous relationships" is also a canonical tag, and you don't have to use canonicals if you can't find the one you like! the world is your oyster.

(here i'll also note: the & doesn't require them be like... friends. it just requires the fic be about their relationship in some way, and for this relationship to not be romantic or sexual. enemies is absolutely covered here, as is like, weird coworkers, or even tags like "hero & the public".)

(similarly, the / tag doesn't require they like each other, it just requires it to be a "ship"; enemies who have a ton of sexual tension goes under this, as do things like abusive romantic or sexual relationships; just make sure you're using your warnings and additional tags appropriately!)

the other most common solution is to tag both the / and & tag and use a tag like the "ambiguous relationships" or "this can be read as either" or "queerplatonic relationships" or whatever other disambiguating tag you think it needs. this is less common in the mcyt fandom because of the mcyt fandom's history of being SUPER WEIRD about shipping, but it's often the most common solution in fandoms that aren't this one.

"i want ao3 to have a ship tag that is neither & nor /, and is not considered synonymous with either" unfortunately this doesn't exist and isn't going to. like i'd love to say there's a way to make it exist but it Won't because of how ao3 was designed to work on a backend level and also ao3 does NOT change quickly, for better or for worse. you're going to have to pick between "make up a symbol and it will probably be synned to /", "use the tag you think you like best", or "use both". i wish there was another option too, if it helps, but the additional tags are really useful here!

"use no relationship tag" is also always an option; the relationship tag is not a required tag!

answer that answers your two examples, neither of which really fit the question as i understand it, hence me separating them out:

a fic about the relationship between two enemies is either the & tag if you just want the one that is actually meant to be used or the / tag if you mean for it to be like, the kind of enemies that have sexual tension. use additional tags to additionally disambiguate (example: just put in the tags the canonical tag "enemies" and you're good to go). the & tag is for ANY kind of platonic relationship, it does not require the two characters like each other, only that the fic is about their relationship! you can use the homestuck <3< if you REALLY wanna make it clear but that's synned to /, so like, up to you. if you're super worried someone will misunderstand the & tag you can also just not tag a relationship, relationships aren't mandatory tags.

i have no idea why you're asking about polyamory because that has a solution that's entirely unrelated to the problem you propose: you just tag the ship. ship tags with more than two names in them are legal tags, as long as it doesn't go over ao3's tag character limit you're good. if you do hit the limit, just use more than one tag! this is totally fine and follows ao3 conventions, don't worry. if it's the kind of polyamorous relationship with metamours, where not everyone is dating everyone, this is where more than one overlapping relationship tag REALLY helps. plus: you can mix / and & tags! not all of them will be canonical yet, but that's true of ANY ship tag you're originating! i have seen the form of "character/character & character" in many fandoms before, it's totally valid and will disambiguate! (also, the ensemble tags may help you here if you're doing like, a polyhermits thing; "hermitcraft ensemble/hermitcraft ensemble" is a legal tag and i think what polyhermits is probably synned to.)

so yeah, hopefully this helps some! good luck out there!

#answered #hopefully this is a useful guide to anyone who has this question! #also i know my take on the / and & tags is SLIGHTLY controversial; that will depend on the fandom a bit i know #but it IS the intended syntax there #and as i said if you're really concerned you can just Not Use A Tag

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (9) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n reunions galore!

masterlist | last part | part 9 | next part (tba)

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chrisyamada was on stage w/ the aussies again 🎸 tagged: emptybottles_official

lukaszhang don't come for my job man ↳ chrisyamada @lukaszhang i can't handle lina for extended periods of time dw about your job security

ceciliapham THEY DID THIS FOR ME AND ME ONLY 😭😭😭

piastri_lina now if i didn't know any better, i'd think this was a soft-launch... ↳ piastri_lina @piastri_lina know ur place christopher yamada

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri Race week recharge 🔋

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selinabui ur so hot do u have a gf ↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui yeah sorry 🫤

piastri_lina boyfie looking boyfie, wifey looking wifey, what is a girl to do 😭😭😭

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trans: brother yu (she uses the fish 'yu' and not zhou guanyu's actual 'yu', again, it's a pun) is awesome!

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[jupitercomet]

hey everyone! I'm sure this is the update that no one was really waiting for lol, but here it is:

it's been almost two years since I started writing on this blog and truly I am so grateful for all the things I was able to achieve and experience since then. this became an outlet for me during a time that I really needed it and almost gave me a purpose when I genuinely felt like I had no idea what I was doing. through this blog, I was able to grow as a writer and a person and I am so thankful to you all for letting me.

I think that you can guess where this is going, but over these past couple months I've realized that this blog is no longer encouraging my growth, but honestly doing the opposite. I want to make it clear that there isn't anything/anyone who caused this change - it 100% has to do with me. my interests have changed and I'm more passionate about new things that I'd like to explore more. I've realized tumblr has become an excuse to avoid my life as opposed to an occasional escape from it and is honestly hindering my ability to make my life more of what I want it to be. for lack of a better term: I think it's time I went outside and touched grass.

for the first time in a long time, I'm genuinely excited about how aspects of my life are going and, I know I don't have them figured out by any means, but I want to give myself the space and time to try. I always knew that this blog wasn't going to be a forever thing and, while I'm always going to be thankful for what it has become for me and others, I think it's served it's purpose and I'm ready to continue figuring out the person I am in a different way.

thank you to all of you for these past two years, I have genuinely had so much fun and am so grateful for how kind and welcoming you were to me. I wish you all nothing but the best and am rooting for you always!

thank you, thank you, thank you <3

-- bugs

p.s. I'm sure you've probably also seen the whole doxxing situation and the amount of people who are leaving because of it. I've already sent my messages to May and fully respect and understand anyone's decision to leave. if I'm honest, I think I made my mind up a while ago, this was just the final nail in the coffin.

#with love - signed bugs

[wheels-of-despair]

Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are *checks notes* going to prom? Like normies?! Contains: A high school prom, two nervous freaks, an ill-fitting wardrobe, an unfortunate zit, dancing, references to other E/EW fics nobody will remember, relentless teasing, a happy ending. Words: 4.5k

"Prom's next month."

You stop playing with Eddie's hair and look down at the head lying in your lap in surprise.

He keeps his eyes on the TV. A blush creeps into his cheeks. Is Eddie Munson seriously thinking about going to prom? You fight a smile and start working your fingers through his hair again.

"Yup… that's what they said on the morning announcements."

Silence. No way he's that interested in the orange juice commercial you've seen ten times today. Eddie Munson is thinking about prom, and he's in the process of chickening out.

"You ever been?" you ask.

"Nah," he says, eyes still on the TV. "You?"

"Nah."

He bites his lip. You can't take it anymore.

"You thinkin' about going?"

He shrugs.

If you were a more patient person, you could poke and prod at him until he finally asked you. However…

"Well, if you were planning on asking me, you're too late."

He finally looks up at you, confusion on his face.

"I've rekindled my romance with Chief Hopper."

A smile spreads across Eddie's face.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," you sigh. "What we had was fun, but you just don't have the stamina. Sometimes a girl just NEEDS full night of porking."

You both snort at the same time, which leads to a fit of giggles.

When you recover, you brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs.

"So, uh…" He licks his lips while he tries to find his words. "If the bacon falls through, would you maybe think about going with me?"

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "Because it's kinda my last chance, and I know it's stupid, and it goes against everything I stand for, and it'll probably be miserable, and the music's gonna suck, and you probably have a way better idea of what we could do that night, but… ugh, never mind."

Eddie turns back toward the TV, shaking his head so some of his hair hides his burning face. You gently brush it back behind his ear, looking down at him with all the love in your heart.

"Eddie?"

"Hm."

"You're the only person I'd think about going to prom with."

"Really?" He looks up at you with an uneasy smile.

"Yeah," you answer, tracing the shell of his ear.

"We don't have to."

"I know," you smile. "I want to go with you." He smiles back sleepily. "But if I get Carrie'd, I can't promise I'll spare you."

"Kay," he chuckles.

"Mother?" you ask, hovering in the living room doorway.

"Daughter?" she responds from the couch, without looking up from her book.

You take a deep breath and stare at the floor.

"Ineedapromdress."

"What?"

You sigh and raise your head. "I need a prom dress."

Her book drops to her lap, revealing wide eyes behind her glasses.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I need a prom dress," you repeat with a roll of your eyes.

"Oh my god! I have a child who's voluntarily attending a school function!"

"What's up?" Gareth asks from behind you.

"They're going to the prom!"

You slowly turn and see him looking at you in amusement.

"Shut up," you order before he can even say anything.

"She's even gonna wear a dress!" your mother shrieks.

"Shut up," you repeat, glaring at Gareth's stupid smirky face. "Kay, I'm going to bed, open to shopping suggestions and financial contributions, good night."

You squeeze past him and make a mad dash for your room.

"They're all gonna laugh at you!" Gareth warbles in his best Piper Laurie impression.

"Shut up!" you repeat one last time, then slam your bedroom door.

"He's heeeere," Gareth announces as he passes by your bedroom door.

"You look perfect," your mom assures you.

She's been working on your makeup for fifteen minutes, and it's finally the way she wants it. And you have to admit… you look pretty damn good.

She'd taken you to the city for a day of shopping, and after several hours of hunting, you'd actually found a dress without puffed sleeves, ruffles, or tulle.

"Give me a minute, I want the camera on his face when he sees you," your mom says excitedly.

"Mother, it's a high school prom, it's not our wedding."

"Let me have this!" she whisper-yells. She grabs her camera and leaves the room.

You take one last look at yourself, stand, and slip on your shoes. Heels. You're even wearing fucking heels.

You walk down the hall and turn into the kitchen…

Eddie Munson is wearing a suit.

You'd offered to help him look for one, or find him something in the city, but he said he had it covered. And he did. He's even wearing a tie, and he's tamed his hair somehow. He looks freakishly presentable (for Eddie) and is holding what you imagine is a corsage in a box.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You stand there and stare at each other. Awkward. It's awkward.

"Eddie! Give her the corsage!" Your mom stage-whispers.

He tries to hold it out to you, but fumbles it and drops it on the floor. You both reach down to get it, and you hear a RIIIP tear through the kitchen. You both stand immediately, looking and feeling your outfits.

"Was that you or me?" you ask, trying to feel the back of your dress. You knew this fucker was too tight. But your question is answered when all the blood drains out of Eddie's panicked face.

"Let me see, honey," your mom says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The seam in the back of his jacket has ripped.

"Dude! You Hulked out on prom night," Gareth laughs from his seat at the kitchen table.

You give him a warning shush, and for once, he obeys.

"Slip that off, I'll have it as good as new in no time." Your mom helps Eddie out of his jacket and takes it in the direction of her sewing machine. You carefully retrieve the corsage from the floor and put it on the table.

"Uh… that's for you," he mumbles, the color returning to his face.

"Thank you," you smile, leaving the box closed until your mother can return and witness this sacred and not-at-all stupid prom ritual.

You turn to Eddie and lift a hand to run through his suspiciously tame hair.

"Don't look at it," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't look at what?" you ask.

"His third eye," Gareth supplies helpfully. That's when you notice the zit between his eyes. Eddie's face reddens so much that it almost blends in. Gareth snickers. You pick up a damp kitchen towel, ball it up, and throw it at him. It hits him in the ear.

"Don't you have some place to be?" you ask pointedly.

"Nope," he grins, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Mom's taking me to Jeff's after you leave."

You roll your eyes, reach for Eddie's hand, and pull him to your bedroom.

"Sit," you instruct, pointing at your desk. He drops into the chair with a defeated sigh. You start digging through your extremely elegant shoebox full of makeup, then realize what you need. "I'll be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

You return with a cotton ball.

"What's that?"

"Wite-Out. My make-up's too dark for you," you joke.

Eddie's brow furrows, and you apply a dab of peroxide to his unfortunate growth. When it dries, you reach for the concealer.

"What are you doing?" he asks nervously.

"Covering that up."

He sits silently and watches you reach for this and that to cover his bump, and when you stand back and smile, he frowns.

"What's wrong?" you ask. "I can wipe it off if you want, I thought you wanted it gone."

"I feel like a clown," he grumbles.

"You are a clown."

He pouts. You point at the mirror, and he leans over to see his camouflage… and his jaw drops. You lean down until your head is next to his, so you can see what he sees.

"Witchcraft," he whispers.

"You know it, babe," you wink.

"One freshly tailored suit jacket for the young lad," your mom announces as she steps into the room. Eddie stands, and she helps him into it. She brushes her hand along the seam. "Good as new!" she declares. "But no break-dancing tonight." Eddie laughs.

After the official corsage and boutonniere exchange in the kitchen, you're marched into the living room for pictures. Each pose is goofier than the last, but you aren't allowed to leave until your mom finishes off a roll of film.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when the van doors slam shut.

"You still wanna do this, or do you wanna go get blazed and hide out at my place?" Eddie asks, probably about 40% joking.

"What time is it?" you ask. Eddie consults his watch and reads the time back to you. You pretend to consider it for a second, then shake your head. "Chief Hopper is expecting me in 15 minutes, and my little piggy does not like to be kept waiting."

Eddie snorts and starts the engine. Hawkins High Prom 1986 it is.

"Where'd you get your suit?" you ask a few minutes into the surprisingly awkward drive.

"George. The thrift shop guy. Told him I needed something prom-worthy. This was his grandson's. 'He's a lanky thing, just like you,' he said."

"It's nice," you admire.

"It's a little small, but… y'know." Eddie shrugs. "Price was right."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"It's… a little tight," he admits.

"Baby, you don't have to wear stuff if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It's fine… as long as I don't have to move my arms much."

"Is it the shirt too, or just the jacket?"

"Mostly the jacket, the shirt's got some stretch to it."

"Ditch it."

"Ticket says jacket and tie required."

"Ditch it as soon as they let us in."

"This is why you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles as he pulls into a parking spot.

"Correct," you grin.

"Stay," Eddie orders, hopping down and scrambling around the front of the van to open your door. You're suddenly reminded of your first official date; he'd tried so hard to be someone else, but you didn't want someone else. You wanted Eddie Munson, and you wanted him just the way he was. You take his hand and slide to the ground, wincing as your heels hit the pavement.

"Is your battle armor in here?" you ask, nodding toward the back.

"Of course."

"Fetch."

Eddie smirks and walks toward the back, and you shut your door and follow him. He grabs his leather jacket and patch-filled vest, and hugs the pair to his chest.

You reach for them, and he hands them over. You separate the pair while he watches nervously, like you're separating conjoined twins that he personally gave birth to.

"Lose the child-sized suit jacket," you instruct. He tries, but gets stuck almost immediately. You muffle a laugh and step behind him to help him out of it, then slide his plain leather jacket on.

He looks more comfortable already. And considerably more Eddie-like. You go to transfer his boutonniere to his jacket pocket… but he doesn't have one. A bit of quick thinking and one rip later, his dumb little flower is attached with a strip of duct tape. You step back to admire him.

"There he is," you smile.

"Now he's gotta find his girl," Eddie says, "and then they can go do this damn prom thing."

You look down at your outfit and back at him, but he's already digging… through your overnight bag?

"Eddie, what--"

He cuts you off by slapping the soles of your favorite sneakers on the floor of his van.

"You've been wincing with every damn step since you walked into the kitchen. Lose the shoes."

You grin and sit down to swap your heels for sneakers. Sneakers that Eddie vandalized during a particularly boring assembly. It was one of the reasons why they were your favorites; the boy's a ballpoint artist. The other was--oh, that's nice. You stand comfortably and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You want a little liquid courage?" Eddie asks, shaking a bottle of liquor at you.

"Sure," you answer. You each take a swig in hopes of making your night a little more bearable. Eddie stashes the bottle in the van and slams the back doors shut.

"M'lady," he says, offering an arm. You take it, and walk toward the Hawkins High gym doors. Any time now, alcohol.

A cheerleader-in-training eyes you warily, but takes your tickets and lets you pass by her table into the gym… decked out in streamers and balloons. Wicked classy, Hawkins High.

"And you say I never take you anywhere nice," Eddie grins.

"I have literally, not once, ever said that."

Eddie laughs and takes your hand.

"Munson?!" a voice shrieks.

"Yeah?" he asks uneasily, turning to see Mrs. O'Donnell.

"What are you doing here?"

You look at each other, and back at her.

"Whatever people usually do at prom, I guess?"

"I'll have no shenanigans from you tonight, Munson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Donnell."

"Don't even think about going near that punch bowl," she warns.

"Why, what's in the punch bowl?" he asks. You try to keep a straight face.

"Just punch, and that's the way it's going to stay. Isn't that right, Mr. Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says innocently.

Mrs. O'Donnell looks you both up and down, sucks her teeth in disapproval, and walks away without another word.

"Like I'd waste good liquor on these ungrateful assholes," he mumbles. "Do have an emergency flask in my pocket, by the way."

"Aww, and I thought you were just happy to see me."

"That's in the other pocket," he winks.

"C'mon," you laugh, pulling him to the other side of the gym. Once you're in a quiet spot, you scan the room for familiar faces. You knew you were pretty much on your own - all of the other Hellfire boys were having a movie marathon and sleepover at Jeff's - but you thought you'd look for potential allies anyway.

"There's Nancy Wheeler," you notice.

"And the Elder Byers," Eddie points out.

"I think we're on our own, babe."

"Just how I like it," he grins.

"You gonna dance with me, or just stand here lookin' pretty all night?" you ask.

Eddie responds by flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically.

"C'mon," you smile, nodding toward the dance floor. He balks.

"This song sucks."

"Every song's gonna suck," you remind him.

"This one sucks more than average."

"Then how 'bout we visit the snack table and lay a curse on the punch while we wait for something that sucks slightly less?"

"This way, m'lady," he says nerdily, holding out his arm. You roll your eyes and take it anyway, working together to assemble a plate full of cheap snacks and two cups of unspiked punch. You retreat to the bleachers and pick at your bounty.

"So… this is a high school dance," he remarks.

"Yup… imagine, some people's entire high school careers revolve around this thing."

"I'd kinda rather be at home," he confesses.

"In our pajamas," you add.

"Watching shitty movies," he continues.

"Eating shittier pizza."

"Maybe fooling around a little?" He waggles his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the door.

"We went through a lot of trouble to get here, Edward. I went shopping. With my mother. You put on a suit. And a tie. And grew a stress zit."

"Shut up," he grumbles, hand instinctively touching the bump between his eyes. You lean in to kiss his cheek.

"Let's give it an hour. You've gotta dance with me at least once."

"Fine," he pouts. You feed him crackers, and he starts to relax a little.

When the opening chords of "Footloose" blare through the speakers, Eddie cringes. The people on the dance floor go wild.

"C'mon," you order, standing up and reaching for his hand.

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Eddie Munson, you get your spastic ass on this dance floor with your dumb-ass classmates right now."

He whines, and looks… nervous? You sit back down, face full of concern. He scans the crowd, and you look too. Eyes keep darting to you. Not outright staring. Just keeping an eye on you. Like your whereabouts are a matter of public safety. You've been so focused on Eddie, you haven't bothered to pay attention to everyone else.

"It's just…" he starts, and then stops.

"Eddie?" you ask quietly, turning your head back to him. "This is our prom, too." You slide a little closer to him and hold his hand. "And I'm glad I'm here with you."

Eddie leans his forehead against yours and squeezes your hand.

"You think they're upset that we had the nerve to show up?" you smirk.

"Probably ruined their whole night," he grins. "Dear Diary, the freaks crashed prom."

"And ate all the fucking snacks," you laugh.

A flash makes you both jump.

"Sorry," Jonathan Byers smiles apologetically from behind his camera. "You guys were being cute, and Nancy demanded a photo for the yearbook."

"It's cool, man," Eddie grins. "Can we get a copy of that?"

"Sure," Jonathan nods. "They hired a professional photographer for portraits, by the way. Over in the corner. It's included in the ticket price."

"Cool," Eddie says.

"Anddd Nancy's waving me back," Jonathan groans. "You guys have fun tonight. At least some of the freaks should."

You and Eddie both chuckle as Jonathan goes back to Nancy for his next assignment, hearts in his eyes completely undermining his complaints.

"Well…" Eddie puffs his cheeks and blows out a breath of air. He's experienced all that prom has to offer, and is clearly not impressed.

"One picture, one dance, and we're the fuck outta here," you propose.

"Deal," he agrees.

You walk, hand-in-hand, over to the photographer's corner and get in line behind three other couples. Well, two. Kimmy Little sees you standing in line behind her, and drags her date off in the other direction. You and Eddie share a knowing look, but say nothing.

When the time comes, the photographer instructs you to assume the traditional prom photo position, and you do. You let Eddie hold you around the waist and smile like a total fucking jackass for several seconds while you wait for the flash. You and Eddie stumble away with spotty vision and hands tightly clasped. He's your lifeline, and you're not letting him go.

When your vision returns, you look from the bleachers to the exit. Is it really worth walking all the way back over there to sit and be bored, when you could just leave and have this lame night be over with?

Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" starts playing through the gym's shitty speakers, and you smile. You're a sucker for this one. Eddie looks at you with dread. He knows what's coming.

Silently, you slip backward into the crowd and pull him with you. He doesn't protest this time. He follows, eyes not leaving yours. The crowd must have parted for you. Perhaps there are advantages to loving the resident freak. You stand close and put his hands where they belong, and then yours. You stare into Eddie Munson's eyes and sway slowly to a song he tolerates, only for you.

You're glad you came. You're glad you're with him. You're glad this is the song you got to dance to. You're glad he made you swap your heels for sneakers.

But mostly, you're glad when the song is over, because you come together for a quick kiss and make a mad dash toward the exit.

"You son of a bitch," Eddie growls, trying to force his suit onto a hanger.

"Leave it, gremlin, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Eddie grins, throwing his suit on the bed and kissing your freshly scrubbed cheek. You'd washed off all your makeup and hair products together, had a little fun in the shower, put on pajamas, and smoked a joint to wind down. You were thrilled to look and feel like yourselves again. "I'm gonna go pop a pizza in the oven. Put something good on, I need to cleanse my poor ears of the top 40 garbage they were subjected to tonight."

"Yes, dear," you deadpan, hanging up your dress as he exits the room.

"Music!" he whines from the hallway.

"FINE!" you yell back. You pop in the first mix tape you find and turn up the volume. You force Eddie's suit on a hanger, put the formal-wear in the hall closet, and join him in the kitchen.

He's sitting on the counter, watching the clock and drinking directly out of a nearly empty two-liter pop bottle.

"You really know how to treat a girl," you smirk.

He burps in response.

You feel like you should roll your eyes or pretend to be annoyed, but you're so in love with this fucker, you find every dumb thing he does to be charming. You lean on the counter next to him, and he hands you the bottle. You take a swig, then pretend it's a microphone.

"I'm here with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin, who has just been to his first and last school dance! Tell us, Eddie, how was the Hawkins High prom?" you ask, placing the open bottle by his mouth.

"Sucked dick, thanks for asking!"

"It did not suck dick!" you protest, slamming the bottle on the counter with a slosh.

"It sucked some pretty major dick," he argues.

"You got to spend time with the woman you love! In a formal setting! She wore a damn dress for you!"

"I like her better in pajamas."

"Only because I'm not wearing a bra," you scoff.

"Well… I mean, yeah," he says, hopping off the counter and taking your hands in his. "Don't get me wrong, the dress was great. Have deposited the cleavage situation in the spank bank, so thanks for that. But this is just… better. 'Cause this is us."

When you're right, you're right.

The opening chords of Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" play through Eddie's bedroom speakers, and a wave of appreciation for where you are and who you're with washes over you.

"No bowtie-wearing jocks or frilly little bitches staring at us," you smile, sliding your hands to his shoulders and pulling him close.

"No restrictive clothing," he smirks, letting his eyes linger on your chest as he settles his hands on your waist.

"Eyes are up here, Munson," you remind him as you begin to sway subtly.

He looks up and grins. "Those are pretty okay, too, I guess."

You smack him in the chest, and he laughs.. and then his face falls.

"You tricked me," he accuses.

"How did I trick you?"

"This is our second dance!"

"Yes, but its to our music, so it's counteracting the pop-adjacent one at the actual dance."

"Ugh, fine," he pretends to cave with a roll of his eyes.

You keep dancing until the song starts to pick up, and Eddie looks at you with his eyes full of mischief. He starts moving just a little faster from side to side, swaying with the music as it builds. Before you know it, those spastic moves you tried to coax out of him at prom were coming out in his kitchen. You would have been perfectly satisfied to just watch him dance like a dweeb, but he grabs both of your hands and forces you to join him. You do so happily.

You dance, you spin, and you laugh together in the Munson's kitchen to a mixtape of Eddie's own making. It's the most fun you've had in weeks. Why did you spend so long stressing over prom? Prom was nothing. Prom was a bunch of rich kids in tacky, overpriced clothes that you'd be laughing at in twenty years. This is real. This is what you should be living for.

When the song begins to wind down, you and Eddie are nearly out of breath from all the head-banging and jumping around. The slow dancing resumes without complaint.

"I think this is the Heaven part," you observe.

"Huh?"

"Heaven and Hell," you say, looking up into his beautiful red face. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. His zit has lessened in intensity after a post-shower application of peroxide. His eyes are big and round and curious. This boy is perfect, and he's all yours. "Prom was Hell. Other people are Hell. This, right here? Me and you? This is the Heaven part."

Eddie's eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pulls you in close and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze him back and breathe in the calming, familiar scent of him. You love this boy more than anything.

"I love you," you mumble into his shoulder.

"I love you too," he responds. "Even if you did make me go to prom."

"This was your idea, fool," you laugh, giving him a backwards shove.

"Not how I remember it," he grins. He laces his fingers and holds them under his chin, bats his eyelashes, and continues in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you: "'Oh Eddie my love, please, won't you take me to prom? It would be the highlight of my life!' Pretty sure you begged. Groveled, even."

"You are insufferable," you laugh, pushing him away from you.

"You're the one who made me go to prom!"

"You know, Munson, according to the pamphlets that everyone's been throwing at me all week, most teenagers have sex on prom night. But I think you're gonna have to get your ass kicked instead. C'mere."

"No!" he yelps, backing into a corner. "Please! I have children!"

"We don't have to share our pizza with them, do we?" you laugh, too lazy to engage in a play-fight with him.

"Pfft. No." He relaxes. "I wouldn't even share with you if I didn't have to."

Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding!" he insists, coming forward to envelop you in a hug. You go rigid and refuse to hug him back. "I'm kidding. You know I'd save my last Fudge Round for you."

"Oh, really?" you smile, looking up at him.

"Eh… Nutty Buddy, maybe?" He screws up his face in concentration. "Nah. Oatmeal Creme Pie?"

"You are unbelievable," you scoff with a shake of your head.

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I guess," you sigh in defeat. "But please don't tell Chief Hopper. It would break his heart."

"Oh my God," Eddie groans, pushing you away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

You cackle, and the oven timer dings.

This is definitely Heaven, but you've still gotta give him a little Hell.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman

[cas-backwards-tie]

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #my writing #song fic #taylor swift #cardigan #simon riley x reader angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #simon ghost riley x ex!reader #simon riley x ex!reader #simon riley x cbf!reader #simon ghost riley x cbf!reader #biker!simon riley #song fics

[lovercraftian]

i want a snake hybrid to catch me stealing from his hoard

he'd scold me for being such a stupid boy, for thinking i could sneak into his cave and take his treasure, as he coils his long tail around my waist. with a quick jerk of his tail, he'd tear my clothes in two, and as he discards my shirt and pants and underwear to the side, he'd tell me that he forgives me, because he just found an even better treasure than gold or jewels.

he'd rub his cloaca against my thigh until his stubby, thick hemipenes peek out from his slit. they're about five inches long not counting their shared base, but they're so thick and covered in barbs and spines that they're more daunting than any other cock i've ever seen.

as he grinds against my thigh, he'd worm his long, forked tongue into my boycunt, his piercings rubbing along my insides as he explores every last inch.

once my cunt is nice and slick with his saliva, he'd wrap his tail around my ankles to keep me in place, and then he'd grind against my cunt, trying to get his cocks into me. his cocks would keep slipping just as he's about to get his tapered tips inside, and he'd eventually get so frustrated that he would grab my hips, no longer allowing me to wriggle away from him, and yank me down as he gives one good, hard thrust.

he'd tell me that my cunt feels so good, that i'm the most perfect creature he's ever had the pleasure of breeding, that he wants to keep me in his hoard like i'm his new favorite treasure.

his cocks would fill me up so fucking well. i wouldn't be able to do anything but whine and babble as he fucks me slowly and passionately. i cum once, twice, three times before i regain my ability to speak, albeit senselessly, and start begging to be let go.

"no! you can't go yet, my precious," he'd purr insistently. "i need to make sure my eggs take."

eggs?? that couldn't be right. i'd start struggling more, confused and scared. he'd hold me close, kissing my chest as he coos reassurances and murmurs praise, and his thrusts would get more frantic.

i'd scream and cum a fourth time when he thrusts one last time. one of his cocks coats my insides with his cum; the other swells and contracts as soft, golf-ball sized eggs squeeze their way through his shaft and into my boycunt.

he'd stroke my head as i calm down, telling me in a hushed voice about his species' mating process and reproductive anatomy. i wouldnt be listening, already drifting off.

he wouldn't let me leave ever again. he would spoil me like a prince as he makes sure that his eggs stay safe inside of me. when his eggs re-emerge from me and hatch, he'd be quick to pump his eggs and cum into me again, eager to keep me full of new broods of babies for us to raise together.

#snake fucker #ovipositor #monster fucker #teratophillia #ovi kink #eggnancy #monster imagine #lovercraftianisms

[muldermuse]

Bare with me for a moment I'm just thinking... What about Gator who when he comes to your house one night he finds your vibrator that you keep in your bedside drawer and he starts asking you about it. Making jokes and teasing you about it.

"Don't I satisfy you enough, sweetcheeks?" he laughs, turning the pretty pink toy around in his hand. it's small but it's powerful and it definitely gets the job done.

Snatching back from his hand you're quick to reply with a quip of your own.

"You're not always here, Sheriff Tillman. A girls got needs and I can't always rely on you. This little thing is way more reliable than you'll ever be." It's a low-blow, sure, but his teasing was starting to get under your skin.

"Will you show me how you use it? What you do when I'm not around?" his voice is almost pleading as he looks at you with those big Hazel-brown eyes.

"How about I use it on you? Show you what your missing out on, huh?" you smirk, and suddenly that cocky smile on his face drops ever so slightly, but that growing bulge under his cargo pants is undeniable.

Anyways... Just thought I'd share my thoughts...

🧡

OH MY GOD

i love you

before this though, Gator is intimidated by the thought of you using a vibe or any kind of toy when you’re alone. You know how to make yourself feel good and whilst the other guys see the toy as part of the team- Gator fucking hates it.

if he had his way, if you were turned on, he’d want you to call him and let him do it for you. He’s TOXIC, he’s a toxic guy who is fully irked about the sleek pink vibrator in your bedside drawer and the thought of the pretty noises it forces you to make.

but he wants to see you use it, when he’s horny with you his brain is mush. When you suggest to use it on him?? He’s hard but adamant it’s not happening- you drop it with a smirk, knowing what will happen.

and of course, it does. you know him too well.

the next time he comes round he sheepishly asks for you to use it. “where’s your manners, Gator? if you ask real nice, i’ll do it, okay baby?” your voice is tauntingly soft, politely reprimanding him as if you aren’t forcing him to beg.

you wrap the vibe in your underwear so the pressure isn’t too much and press it against his balls. his moan is like nothing you’ve heard from him before, he’s slack jawed as he stares at you on your knees. he stutters out a, “mouth, please” and who are you to deny him when he asks so pretty?

the blowjob is messy, his favourite of course. one hand keeping the vibe against him and the other working up and down wherever your mouth can’t reach. the low thrum of the vibrator, the squelch of your spit on his cock and the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat is enough for him. he cums so hard he’s positive he’s going to black out.

the vibe is used more regularly after this ofc.

please send me two sinners asks/thoughts/stuff !!!

#two sinners works #gator fargo #gator tillman #gator smut #gator x reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #gator Tillman fargo #gator Tillman x reader #fargofx #fargo spoilers #fargoedit #fargo #fargo fx #fargo season 5 #fargo s5 #joe keery #joe keery smut

[anotherbluesunday]

✨Fic Release: In Technicolor—Ch. 1: Hell in a Handbasket (Pugsley + Cheryl)✨

____________Pugsley/Lee____________

Just past the shopping center that housed the Erewhon Wednesday silently hissed at and Bertie audibly boo'ed was our new school. A glittering beacon of narrow-minded thinking disguised as liberalism if I'd ever seen one, I'd read up on the place. Had Jug and Reggie fill me in on what to expect and it wasn't good.

Insidious racism veiled as social work and fundraisers. Sender students being made into charity cases to make donating families and businesses feel better about themselves while they donate to political campaigns for politicians who couldn't give two shits about the working class. I could see it in the way they looked at us as we pulled up into the student parking lot and hung up the parking permit from the rearview mirror. They were sizing us up. Knew without having to ask that we were from somewhere else. Somewhere where it wasn't commonplace for sixteen year old's to have access to their parents Amex Black card.

Eyes down on the steering wheel for a moment as the girls to our right sat in their brand new canary yellow Jeep Wrangler "whispering" loudly about how dirty the truck was, Bertie reminded me it was only for a year and that chances were not everyone would be as bad as I was making them out to be in my head. Wednesday snorted a laugh from the backseat and I shot her a glance through the mirror saying "Probablemente sean monstruos chupadores de sangre." With a hard reluctant sneer, I forced myself to unbuckle. Grabbed my backpack from the backseat, slipped on my sunglasses, and heaved sigh.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this."

Shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders, Wednesday stood beside me staring at our new prison. "Just close your eyes and count to ten. It'll be over before you know it."

"Promise?"

"No."

Should have known better than to ask. But it made me laugh nonetheless. And that was the only upside here really. I wouldn't be going at this alone. I'd have Wen and Bert and a couple friends if Toni made it through the testing process since her mom made her apply too. We'd be okay. Not great. Not fine. But we'd be okay.

We'll survive.

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____________Cheryl____________

Routine on repeat like some b-rate film that used timelooping as a metaphor for repeating the past until the main character righted their wrongs, I put on my morning music playlist as I stepped into the spacious en suite bathroom that had been warmed to seventy-two degrees for me. My shampoo and conditioner never seemed to run out. My bodywash was always in supply. Shaving razors never dulled and toothpaste never emptied paste the halfway point. The only thing I was burdened with was remembering when to restock my skincare items which, even when they did run out, it was never a problem because there was nothing that couldn't be handled with a quick call.

Perfectly controlled and acclimated. It was like a dollhouse inside of a greenhouse.

Everything's monitored and privacy is a privilege.

You missed practice this morning. It was from dad, the message brightening the screen of my phone as I stepped out of the shower. We'll double up tonight's session and split it for before and after dinner.

Staring at the message, I hesitated. Could hear the small scream itching at the back of my neck like nails dragging down the nerves hidden beneath my skin.

I wanted to throw up and I hadn't eaten anything yet.

I'll have homework. I told him.

You can do it afterwards. Slacking off once leads to habitual laziness Cheryl. No excuses.

My stomach knotted. Worked itself up until the familiar aftertaste of vomit ghosted itself on my taste buds.

The cold sweats that came with it.

The dizzying nausea.

Looking at myself in my vanity mirror, I dissected the bags under my dull brown eyes. Examined my hairline to see if it had thinned anymore than what mom had pointed to over the summer when we went on vacation to Portugal. "It must be from the stress. You should sleep more darling" she had said. At least my lashes had grown back after my nervous snap over spring semester.

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.

*IMPORTANT NOTE!: Please do keep in mind while reading that the characters Pubert and Pugsley have nicknames that they go by and will go by for most of the story. For Pugsley, his nickname is “Lee” and for Pubert, his nickname is “Bert” or “Bertie.” Wednesday sometimes goes by “Wen” but I feel like that is a known in the Wednesday fandom but I wanted to mention it quickly for readers in the Riverdale fandom so that they’re in the loop.

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#pugsley addams #wednesday addams #pubert addams #cheryl blossom #jason blossom #tyler galpin #enid sinclair #enid galpin #wynn galpin #veronica lodge #betty cooper #reggie mantle #archie andrews #riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fic #riverdalecentral #wednesday netflix #wednesday #weyler #wyler #bughead #archive of our own #ao3fic #ao3 #xolo maridueña #jenna ortega #malachi barton #hunter doohan #madeline petsch

[thegainingdesk]

I work with my best mate who has obviously picked up somewhat on me packing on about 3 stone in 18 months, and that I'm not exactly upset about the added weight. Our relationship involves lots of teasing and jokes at the other's expense, so obviously the new and improved, fatter Desk has come in for some flack.

I took over a maternity role for someone, and he patted my gut at the pub after I was offered the position and asked if I was the one who was pregnant; someone (quite unexpectedly) revealed that they've got a six-pack, and he quipped that I'd been growing "a single great big ab"; we had a work thing about healthy living and he made sure to explain the concept of "eating less" to me; there's lots of comments about the amount I've eaten, or comparisons to other big guys we work with, or "bulking", and lots of belly pats and pokes.

He mentioned last week that he's bulking (but, you know, normal bulking at the gym, not eating his way into obesity), that he's currently 11 stone, and would like to work his way up to 12 stone as an initial goal. Well, naturally, I worked in that I'm currently a little over 18 stone. He was genuinely shocked. Who can blame him? It's a big number! He sort of looked at me for a bit as if he'd not properly noticed just how big I'd gotten, and then just sort of said "fuck, I guess you are about that yeah." Then he remembered that I'd previously mentioned that I was 17 stone, and he made a bit of a comment about putting on a stone in a year - I didn't correct him by pointing out that it was well under a year ago that I told him I was 17 stone.

Now, a couple of things here. The most significant is that I am 7 stone heavier than my best friend which is, for those of you who prefer to use any kind of normal units, 98 pounds. I am about a hundred pounds heavier than this man. I felt fucking huge.

Then of course, is the acknowledgement of how big I've gotten. I think because we joke so much, having him take a step back and evaluate and conclude yeah, this guy has gotten fucking fat, no joking, no quip or tease, was really fucking hot.

We're both going to a wedding in August and are sharing an AirBnB that happens to have a hot tub. The last time he will have seen me shirtless will have been about two years and three stone ago, so I'm excited to see his reaction. Now I'm thinking though, could I get up to 19 stone by then? More? What will his reaction be, I wonder, if I'm stood there in some XL swim shorts, mentioning I had to buy some new ones because my old ones didn't fit, and just drop in that I've put on yet another stone. It's odd motivation maybe, but it's really pushed me and I've been hitting 4k and 5k calories this past week. Who knows, maybe I'll hit 20 stone by that wedding.

#weight gain #gaining thoughts #personal ramblings #gaining

[wikiangela]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples thank you <33

How many works do you have on ao3?

right now it's 90! (57 of these are 911 lol)

What's your total ao3 word count?

535,450

What fandoms do you write for?

currently just 911, but I have some destiel and sambucky fics and who knows, I might get back to them at some point haha

Top 5 fics by kudos:

For a holiday (and forevermore)

I can't love you any more (than I do now)

I'd marry you with paper rings

the next best thing

There’s no way that it’s not going there (with the way that we’re looking at each other)

(they're all buddie and I just noticed that the top 4 are all over 1k kudos?? when did that happen lmao)

Do you respond to comments?

I do! sometimes it takes me a while bc i get lowkey overwhelmed lol but I always do!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

there's not a lot bc I prefer happy or hopeful endings, but I guess by post 6x10 fics? Fine and don't know what I'd do if your tomorrow never came idk lol

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

most of my fics have happy endings, but I guess I'd say For a holiday (and forevermore) 

Do you get hate on fics?

not really? got like one or two not very nice comments but generally no haha

Do you write smut?

yes I do 😁 not often and it always takes me forever but I do have two smut fics in the works (one buddie, one bucktommy lol)

Craziest crossover?

don't have any

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, as far as I know

Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

Have you co-written a fic before?

no

All time favorite ship?

buddie

(ngl, bucktommy is a veeeeery close second rn🙈)

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

there's two that have been fighting me for so long they're lowkey abandoned now and tbh I don't know if I still want to finish them? one is a 5+1 nicknames, and the other just a silly idea about eddie flirting with buck since they met but buck being veeeery oblivious lol

What are your writing strengths?

I think (usually) I'm pretty good at staying true to the characters and not making them too ooc (and I know when it's ooc, okay, I have one wip rn where I just don't give a fuck, I'm writing it anyway lol), and I can get into their heads pretty well. Also I think I'm good at the cute fluffy stuff lol idk

What are your writing weaknesses?

there's probably a lot lol - rn the one that comes to mind is descriptions probably, which is why writing fanfic where we have established characters and settings is so much easier than og stuff haha

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don't mind it but I don't do it a lot aside from a pet name here and there bc I just don't wanna get anything wrong lol

First fandom you wrote in?

for tv shows supernatural, but before that I did write rpf which i just wanna forget about lol

Favorite fic you've written?

rn it's three:

we don't know where this is going now (don't be afraid of heights, let me open your heart wide) - my tommy pov fic <3

I'm comin' back, don't let me go - buck driving/breakdown fic

baby, you drive me wild - car smut - might not be my best but it's my fave smut lol

tags: @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @evanbegins

@wildlife4life @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks

@rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon

@jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @theotherbuckley @daffi-990

@hoodie-buck @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

#wikiangela writes #20 questions #writer questions #fic writer #my fics #writing tag game

[keirawantstocry]

okay i asked you about dilf!pac and teacher!tubbo before

may i introduce dilf fitpac and bartender tubbo, he would be fumbling making their drinks and giving them discounts, the would convince him to drink with them, and tubbo gets so drunk that they end up bringing him home in an unverified or something and they let him crash on his couch. one in the morning he gets asked out by these two ridiculously hot men

DILFS AND TUBBO LETS FUCKING GOOOOO

Tubbo didn’t expect much from the trip his friends encouraged him to take to the bar. Tina and Foolish had been encouraging him to get out of the house, to let Tina and Bagi take a turn watching Sunny with their daughter. Foolish took him by the arm and dragged him out of the house and to a gay bar close to his house. 

“You’re straight,” Tubbo complained as he dragged his feet down the road, Foolish ahead of him. 

“I can still go to a gay bar! They aren’t gonna stop me at the door and ask me if I can prove I’m gay!” 

“Maybe they will,” Tubbo said, trying not to roll his eyes. “Will you be willing to suck a dick to get inside?” “Only if it’s yours.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Tubbo nearly ran into Foolish as he stopped straight in front of the club. The city lights were beginning to light up the streets as the darkness of the evening began to settle. The bouncer was a buff man with a forgettable face who let them in after only a glance. 

The club was loud, rainbow lights flashing over the dance floor as the bass boomed. Their DJ was whooping and hollering from behind the stand, as gorgeous people jumped up-and-down in front of him. 

“I don't wanna do this,” Tubbo whined. 

“LET'S GET YOU DRUNK THEN!” Foolish grabbed him by the arm again, dragging him over to the surprisingly quiet bar. “Vodka shot for him, Jagerbomb for me,” he shot at the bartender closest with his most charming smile. 

The man smiled back at him before shouting back behind him with a clipped accented voice, “Hear that Fitch?” 

The man currently pulling down a bottle of vodka to dip into one of the two glasses he had already gotten out called back to him. “Yes sir.” 

Tubbo's eyes were drawn to the flex of the bartender's muscles as he poured out the drink. He leaned into Foolish and tilted his head towards it. “Oh, that's unfair.” 

Foolish followed his gaze and whistled under his breath. “Damn. If I wasn't basically married, I'd tap that.” 

Tubbo shoved against his arm as he realized the younger bartender was listening to them with an amused smile. “Shut up.” 

The bald guy with the shocking muscles slid their drinks across the bar. “Just these? Or are we starting a tab?” 

Tubbo grabbed the shot and downed it, slamming it back down on the counter. “Start a tab.” 

“Oh and I bet you expect me to pay,” Foolish complained with a smile as he picked up his own shot. 

“This was your idea so yes.” 

Foolish slammed his shot down. “You're lucky I love you. Another?” he asked, directed at the bartender who nodded then looked over at Tubbo. 

Tubbo nodded. “Yeah sure why not.” To Foolish, he said, “Cause of the blow jobs, right?” 

Foolish snorted and out of the corner of his eye, Tubbo noticed the younger bartender, the one with a gorgeous face, was still eavesdropping. “One of these days my boyfriend is gonna hear you say that and he is gonna beat your ass.”

“Suck my dick,” Tubbo shot back, barely paying attention to what he was saying. He had made contact with the incredibly strong bartender who was sliding his next shot across the table with a stupidly good-looking smile. “Thank you.” 

The man's smile grew and to Tubbo's shock, his eyes glided easily over what he could see of Tubbo before meeting his eyes again. “You're welcome.” 

As soon as he looked away, Tubbo glanced towards Foolish in a panic who was looking at him with an encouraging expression. 

“I think I'll hit the dance floor,” he proclaimed, way louder than necessary. With a wink at the bartenders he said, “You'll watch after my friend won't you?” 

“Absolutely,” the one purred in that accented voice and Tubbo could feel every inhibition draining from his body at the sound of that voice. He would do anything to hear that voice purring in his ear like that. 

“I can take care of myself,” Tubbo protested weakly. 

“I’m sure you can,” the dark haired bartender leaned over the bar, resting his elbows on the counter. “I’m Pac. What’s your name, baby?” His voice was clipped on the word baby. It was beautiful. 

“Tubbo,” he said, sliding his hand across the bar to shake his hand. 

Pac shook it with ease, smiling fondly at him already. “This is Fit.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. Fit smiled, putting together another drink for a different patron at the bar. “What brings you here tonight?” 

Tubbo laughed. “ My friends said I needed to get out of the house. Can I get another vodka shot?”

“Of course.” Pac turned to make the shot himself. He did it with a practiced ease that was mesmerizing before sliding the newly made shot across the bar.

Tubbo downed it, slamming it down with a practiced ease that he was faking. He was starting to feel tipsy. 

“Why do your friends think you need to get out of the house?” Pac asked, swinging open the swinging door that let people behind the bar. He swung himself up on the barstool beside Tubbo. 

“They think I spend too much time at home with my daughter. Which is ridiculous. Yeah sure I'm only 20 but she's my daughter and I'm gonna do everything to make her life as good as possible.”

Pac nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I'd do anything for my son.” 

“You have a kid?” Tubbo so stupid. Of course he had a kid and probably a really hot wife and he would never be interested in some 20-year-old dude he met in the bar. 

Pac nodded. “But it's good to get out and have fun as well.” 

“Well yeah but you can go out while your wife watches your kid. As a single father I don't have the same uhhh freedom.” 

“I don't have a wife,” Pac said with a laugh and Tubbo flushed an embarrassed shade of red.

“Oh shit I'm sorry I shouldn't have assumed.” 

Pac waved him off. “It's okay, it's okay. I don't have a wife or husband but I do have co parents so you were right about that.” 

Tubbo relaxed ever so slightly. “Oh. Yeah okay. Um sorry if this is too invasive but is it like a dating thing or divorced or…” he trailed off awkwardly. “I'm sorry that's an insane question to ask a stranger.” 

“How else will we stop being strangers hm?” 

Tubbo opened his mouth then closed it considering his statement. “Huh. Guess you're right.” 

Pac nodded. “It's kind of an awkward story actually. We're all close friends and were then as well. We were all messing around.” He shrugged. “And uh accidental pregnancy. We decided to keep it and raise him all together as a group. We decided not to get a paternity test. Just makes things easier. So he doesn't feel less loved by any of his parents.” 

Tubbo was nodding along to the story. At some point some kind of drink had been pushed into his hand. He sipped it before speaking. “Funny enough I got in a slightly similar situation. One night stand with this couple and I ended up with the kid. Wouldn't trade her for the fucking world though. She's the light of my life.” 

Pac smiled sweetly as he motioned for Fit to bring him another drink. “Kids will do that to you.” 

Fit joined them, leaning his arms against the countertop of the bar, making his biceps bulge nicely. Tubbo couldn’t help it when his eyes zeroed in on his arms. 

They both noticed, glancing at each other with matching smiles. 

“Nice muscles,” Tubbo blurted out. God, it felt awkward that they noticed him looking, he just had to say something to break the tension. 

“Thank you,” Fit said with a laugh. “Made ‘em myself.” 

Tubbo giggled, feeling even drunker as he took a long swig from his drink. “My friend uh,” he gestured wildly in the direction he thought he remembered Foolish going into. “He’s uh. Yeah he does weight lifting and stuff.” 

“Is that why you hang out with him?” Fit asked. “His muscles? Are you guys a thing?” 

“Nahhh,” Tubbo drawled, just starting to slur his words. “He’s got a boyfriend. Ough, I have tapped that before though. If you’re even half as good as he was,” he took another long sip, motioning at Fit with his drink. 

The man laughed, beginning to flush. “Oh? Are you propositioning me now? You’re tryna hit on me? That what you’re doing?” 

“Maybe,” Tubbo said, shrugging his shoulders up as he widened his eyes. “Would you, uh, be all good with that?” 

Fit glanced towards Pac. “You’d have to ask my boyfriend.” 

Tubbo froze, quickly glancing between them. “Sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, no, no,” Pac rushed to say, his words mixing together. “Don’t worry, I’ve always been into, uh, polyamory and I think my boyfriend deserves to dip into it if he wants.” 

Fit shrugged, throwing a towel over his shoulder after wiping off the countertop once again. “We could share him.” 

Bolts of electricity shot through Tubbo’s spine. “Okay,” he slurred. “Two hot older men at the bar, that works. Even better than just one.” 

They both laughed and it sounded even more beautiful than the blasting club music the DJ was blasting. 

Tubbo finished off his drink with a long swig. “Let me take you two out.” 

“I think we’ll be the one taking you out,” Fit teased. “Pac.” 

The man perked up. “Sim?” 

“Go find Tubbo’s friend and tell him that we can take care of him tonight.” 

Pac giggled, joyously, bouncing off the barstool. “Yes, sir.” 

#my writing #fanfiction #q!tubbo #poly morning crew #q!pac #q!fit #fitpacbo #EVERYONE CHEER #everyone thank oakley for the motivation

[w--zii]

a surprise - part two

bf!jihoon x f!reader

[minors dni]

smut warning:usage of words like slut, filthy etc. orgasm control, let me know if theres more.

vc:703

you took a deep sigh as you closed the folder in your hands and checked for the time. your dinner order should be here by any time now. you went to kitchen to have some water and when you came back to lay on your shared bed with jihoon, a notification popped on on your screen from him.

▶️AUDIO—6:24

he must be so bored, you thought, as you clicked on the notfication. how innocent.

hi baby^^ listening to it now<33

:)

he only sent a creepy smile and left you alone with the voice record.

first seconds of the audio were only his breathing, you didn't understand a single thing, just continued listening while your eyes kept a stare on the white ceiling.

"y/n.. a-ahh,"

your tracks stopped after hearing his voice. did he really moan your name? your face and entire body started to warm up, you felt like your heart might melt anytime.

"f–fuck oh, feels so good."

you started to breathe heavily.

"i miss you–ah," his every word ended with a whine or moan, it turned you on more. hearing your name on his lips has a dirty impact on you.

now you can hear his breathe getting faster and his groans deeper by every second. you started to squirm in your place, pressing your thighs together to get some kind of friction, didn’t help much though.

jihoon

one message. and he got you. thinking of how wet you would be right now made his cock twitch in his pants. (yes, again, he was desperate.)

"i s–swear, mhh–if i don't get there asap, my cock is g–gonna fall ah–off"

his words made you chuckle. your right hand reached for your clothed wetness, cupping it. you let out a whimper. jihoon didn’t respond to your message yet, he wants you desperate too.

“y/n, i know you're dripping right now. my filthy slut.”

you kept listening to him as he reached his climax. audio ended, you called jihoon in light speed to ask about the heck he done.

he accepted the call with a smirk on,

“what's up baby?” he's having fun and it's obvious.

“jihoonie... i miss you,” you said in a crying tone, he will help, right?

“mhm, i miss you too. i wish you were here, pretty.”

“i love it when you tease me.”

sudden confess made his heart drop.

“oh? is that so?” his eyes turning dark, he knows what you're trying to do.

“you can wait for me, yeah? beautiful?”

“please...”

“it won't take long i promise, baby.”

you fake cried to him, not trying to be a brat but you needed him, now. your pleas continued and jihoon just listened to you. still smiling to himself.

“y/n, i said no. right? you heard me? no touching to yourself. be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“okay hoonie...” almost whispered to yourself. you lost your voice.

“mhm? couldn't hear you, baby.”

“i'll be your good girl i promise, jihoonie”

he grinned when he heard you, you are all pouty and he knows it.

“good girl, as you should. now i'm gonna go, i need to sleep, okay? i'll call you when i'm done with work tomorrow. good night baby. i love you.”

“love you too jihoonie good night.”

you let out a puff and sulked. “really jihoon...”

as you were making your way to bathroom, to get cleaned up, another notification popped on your screen from him.

baby boy^_^;

would you like to send me a picture of yourself too before we sleep?

i wanna see you without a top on, baby.

you cursed in your breath and removed your shirt, your tits bouncing when they freed.

you took a photo showing off your boobs, lips in a pout, you tried to act angry but failed, he'll find you more cute.

that's my girl, thank you. you look so good baby i missed those tits so much.

if i was there i'd just make you cum only playing with your buds

i bet you're so fucking wet for me right now

filthy girl.

tf jihoon you look so good TT

i miss you i miss you i miss youu

shut up or i'll come untouched😭

bet lol

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

a/n: help i don't like this at all lmaoo TT

not proof read. © w--zii. do not repost.

#seventeen x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #woozi #woozi imagines #woozi scenarios #svt woozi #woozi smut #woozi x you #woozi x reader #seventeen woozi #lee jihoon #lee jihoon svt #jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you #lee jihoon smut #lee jihoon x reader #smut #seventeen lee jihoon #jihoon x you #jihoon smut

[altocat]

Do you think Sephiroth knows Lucrecia is his mother now?

I'm currently holding onto the belief that he doesn't. At least, not in a detailed sense. Yes, he should technically be able to figure it out using the knowledge from the Lifestream. But he never makes mention of it at all, nor does his relationship with Jenova really seem to change in any way. Lucrecia is kind of an extremely important character throughout the Compilation. If they were going to connect the dots with her and Seph, they would have had him say something by now. Maybe they will do something of that nature in Part 3. But I don't think so. Sephiroth seems pretty unshaken in the belief he is Jenova's son, complete with conceptualizing himself as something inhuman and of Jenova's heritage, despite coming from two human parents. Again, someone with Sephiroth's massive ego would have openly refuted alternative claims out loud, especially during one of his monologues. The fact that he never refers to himself as anything other than Jenova's son leads me to believe that he really doesn't know about Lucrecia at all.

Plus, there's Opera Omnia to consider. Vincent pretty much outright TELLS Sephiroth about Lucrecia...only for Sephiroth to completely blow him off.

Keep in mind that the full context of this exchange is framed with Sephiroth going on and on about Jenova, only for Vincent to refute him with claims about Lucrecia without actually mentioning Lucrecia's name. It's treated like a reveal to Sephiroth, only for Sephiroth to ignore what Vincent is saying. So Sephiroth's rejection isn't "hey I know about Lucrecia and I don't fucking care what you have to say about her she sucks" and more of "I have no idea what you're going on about, but it's annoying so shut up".

At this point, and idk if there's a Jenova-influenced mental block or if Seph is in denial or what--but Sephiroth is not aware of Lucrecia's existence. And honestly, I'd prefer that. Part of the tragedy is that they will never truly meet each other. And Sephiroth is so arrogant and insane that he clings to the delusion of Jenova without considering alternatives. Pretty messed up.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephcanons #crisis core #sephiroth #lucrecia crescent #jenova #vincent valentine #dissidia opera omnia

[blueinkjpeg]

Listen to me ramble about traveler ships bc they’re silly!!

Albedo

Both Albedo and the Traveler have a scientific curiosity about the world and how it works. They’re also curious about humans. While Traveler finds enjoyment out of living among them, Albedo prefers studying them from a distance.

This also transcends into curiosity about each other, since they’re both different kinds of immortal ageless entities, they intrigue each other. (Albedo talks about wanting to “study” the Traveler.) They feel a sort of kinship for each other, as they’re both not really of Teyvat. Because of this, Albedo only trusts the Traveler to stop him if he should lose control one day and destroy Mondstat. He also talks about trusting the Traveler around his experiments, and having faith in their “exceptional talents.”

About us, Assistant: Would you oblige me by serving as my assistant? After observing so many experiments, you surely know a good deal about alchemy by now. Relax, we will work together. I don't think you will have any problems. I have faith in my ability to instruct you, and even more faith in your exceptional talents.

Ascension 2: Albedo is the step in which change begins. Clearing away the excess so we can take on all the knowledge that is available. Would you like to investigate this world with me?

Ascension 3: Rubedo in alchemy refers to the refining of feeling. I feel the refining of my own emotions is also thanks to you.

Is there anything else you're interested in?

Albedo: Hmm, anything else...?

Albedo: Probably you.

Albedo: At first, it was because you carry the aura of the stars.

Albedo: But now... it seems that there is more to it.

Albedo: Why is this? Give me some time and I can conduct experiments to find out.

Is there anything you'd like to do?

Albedo: Heh, where should I begin...?

Albedo: In your company, I never lack inspiration.

For drawing?

For experiments?

Albedo: It's good for both drawing and experiments.

Albedo: And not just for these, but for many other things.

Albedo: Speaking of which... I used to think interaction with others was a waste of time.

Albedo: But after meeting you, I'd rather spend my time on you than other matters.

Albedo: This is a unique anomaly. I think I likely know the reason why.

Albedo: So can you also... give me more of your time?

Xiao

Xiao has been cursed with bad karma, while the Traveler has purifying abilities. Xiao talks about how being around them makes him calmer somehow. Maybe because of these purifying abilities, more likely because the Traveler is so universally warm and friendly. Two immortal beings, Xiao has spent his long life tied to his nation while the Traveler has been almost everywhere.

While Xiao has a rough exterior, he is actually curious about humanity and has a great love for them, something Traveler understands and shares. He’s just weary of his karmic debt and history of violence bringing the Liyuan people bad luck, or preventing him from fitting in should be mingle among them. The Traveler likewise does not fit in, but is still beloved. And so, Xiao has expressed that he would be willing to attempt going to Liyue Harbor to learn about the people if the Traveler accompanied him. It’s likely Xiao admires Traveler for their pursuit of understanding Teyvat and its people— something Xiao is naturally bad at— and they make him feel comfortable to pursue it as well.

Xiao has sworn to come whenever the Traveler calls his name. He seems notably protective of Traveler, more so than other characters, maybe feeling a kinship for both being so inhuman. Either way, voice lines imply he is guarded because he assumes his karma will poison Traveler, and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Despite this guarded roughness, Traveler rightly characterized him as a deeply caring individual, seeing Xiao to the core of who he is, and treats him as such.

Also, Traveler has shown to be dedicated to becoming someone Xiao can trust and relax around. In some of Xiao’s voice lines, it’s implied that Traveler has been trying to come up with ways to help soothe Xiao’s pain.

They have a tradition of releasing Xiao Lanterns during Lanturn Rite. Xiao has given the Traveler crystalflies for their hair for his own birthday, and has talked about how since knowing the Traveler, Xiao has been blessed with sweet peaceful dreams of the two of them going on strolls, wondering if he deserves something so nice.

In a poetry event, the Traveler has created poetry to show their admiration towards Xiao for his endless watch over Liyue. Maybe Traveler admires it because they’ve never had such devotion over something for so long, and Xiao admires Traveler for the opposite reason, and for being brave.

About Shenhe: It seems Shenhe places a great deal of trust in you. Well, how could she not. There are few people in the world as kind and good-natured as you.

More about Xiao V: It's too late. The connection between us is too strong. Even if you wanted to, it's too late to sever it. Hm? You've never thought to sever it? *sigh* This eternal dance of demon subjugation... My fight goes on. But I would like to know more about you.

Ascension: Countless souls have fallen prey to these hands. I too have been swallowed by the darkness — and yet you dare to drive me on. You may think of me as... your companion. You seek to find me salvation? ...You... really are a difficult being to comprehend.

Xiao: ...I don't know if it's related to you, but recently, the pain from my karmic debt has been less excruciating.

Xiao: It's much easier to bear than before.

Xiao: If you have free time, we can go to Liyue Harbor together...

Xiao: If not... never mind.

Of course we can.

Xiao: Uh... alright.

Finally decided to integrate into city life?

Xiao: Ahem...

Xiao: I have no intention of getting close to the lives of mortals.

Xiao: But I know that you often enter and leave the city, walking amidst the crowd.

Xiao: The stories of these times, or their joys... If I don't experience such things myself, it'll be hard to understand your thoughts.

So... you're doing this for me?

Xiao: Yes, to understand you.

Xiao: I had a feeling that it would be difficult, but after having such thoughts, I can't simply sit back and do nothing.

Xiao: I will control myself while I am in the city.

Xiao: I'll try to speak... as little as possible.

I'll be with you.

You can say whatever you want. I'll bail you out.

Xiao: Hmm...

Xiao: Let me know when you're ready to go.

Ayaka

Ayaka’s character story 5: “Ayaka is still waiting for a friend to emerge who can walk alongside her on equal footing and stand by her side. That person cannot see her as a member of the Yashiro Commission, or as the Shirasagi Himegimi, nor will their conduct towards her be bound by decorum or status. And if possible, they might also be well-versed in a great many fields of study, and have witnessed all manner of interesting things... and perhaps they might even be able to tell her a story in a pinch. Only such a person might become Ayaka's bosom friend.”

The Traveler is Ayaka’s ideal companion, the exact kind of person she has been waiting for, possibly the only person who truly has the ability to understand her outside of Inazuman society’s perception of her. She finds Traveler interesting and exciting, a stark difference from her everyday life.

When they first met, the Traveler was disillusioned in their travels after briefly reuniting with their sibling, who dismissed them. Ayaka makes the effort to show them and remind them why they began their travels in the first place; the world and humanity is complex and interesting and beautiful, and it’s a worthwhile endeavor to understand and protect them. Ayaka regularly reminds the Traveler of this by being complex and interesting and beautiful herself. Traveler then goes to great lengths to protect Ayaka’s people, because they understand why they’re important to her.

Ayaka is trapped in Inazuma, while the Traveler has been all over the world. Things that Ayaka has seen a million times are new and wonderful to the Traveler, showing these things in a new light to Ayaka. It makes Ayaka feel like a “regular girl,” something she wishes she could be more often. The Traveler is shown to feel most comfortable with Ayaka and her family while in Inazuma. They both understand what it’s like to feel distant from a sibling.

Good Morning: Oh, good morning, Traveler. ...Whenever I see you in the morning, somehow, it makes me feel like... today is going to be a good day.

Aspiration: Today, as in the past, I aspire to be somebody whom everyone can trust. But what motivates me is no longer the responsibilities I shoulder, or the expectations of other people. Rather, it is the fact that you are this kind of person, too.

More about Kamisato Ayaka V: […] unless I am mistaken, I trust that you will not take issue with this slight departure from convention on my part… That is to say... I'm a little tired, may I rest my head on your shoulder? Just for a moment.

Desires: […] But even so, shouldn't I still follow my dreams? Shouldn't I... share my true feelings with you?

Ascension: Our time together has been so pleasant that I am fearful of losing what I have gained. I'm sorry, I must compose myself.

Kamisato Ayaka: At least, that's a romantic way of approaching this topic [poetry].

I feel the same way.

Kamisato Ayaka: More importantly... I hope that, between the two of us, we need not be concerned with our identities...

Kamisato Ayaka: I'll just think of you as... my closest confidant.

Kamisato Ayaka: Being able to enjoy tea with my closest confidant — it feels like I'm in a dream...

(Closest confidant...)

Kamisato Ayaka: ...

Kamisato Ayaka: Can I... Hold your hand?

Wanderer

The Traveler and the Wanderer are both parallels and ideological foils. They have both been betrayed and abandoned by family and loved ones, doomed to travel and wander the world in order to understand it better because of that.

But the Wanderer has learned humanity’s cruelty during these travels, mostly in the Fatui. He believes humans to be cruel and self-serving, and so he acts that way too. And as an immortal, doesn’t understand the importance of a limited life, clutching onto his grief and anger in a means to cope with what he cannot control.

Meanwhile, the Traveler has learned the beauty of humanity during their travels. They believe in the inherent goodness in everyone, and so they act that way. Curious and sensitive, like Wanderer before his three betrayals, even though Traveler has arguably been through just as much hardship as Wanderer (which may be a reason Wanderer held contempt for Traveler in the past). This belief is what led them to not kill the Wanderer when they defeated him in battle.

Their ideologies are in direct conflict. The Traveler’s ideology has led them to getting hurt often, while the Wanderer’s ideology has led him to being isolated. They have a lot to learn from one another.

AND, with the Wanderer having erased himself from everyone’s memory except the Traveler, the Traveler now is the only person to know the real Wanderer. They know all the evil Wanderer has done, (led to the death of Teppi which Traveler was famously angry about, tried to kill Nahida, etc) and is still his friend. Wanderer is perplexed by this, often expressing it in voicelines. But this means Traveler knows him the most, they own part of his identity as well, as Wander has allowed them to give him a new name. A new name that he has not let anyone use except the Traveler, preferring to go by “Hat Guy” in the Akademia.

While still being weary of him, the Traveler can’t help but seek Wanderer’s presence because they enjoy learning about his vastly differing perspectives on life. The Wanderer respects them because of their vast strength and knowledge.

About us, Rivals: So, you're still stewing over our run-ins from before? Huh. Well, what are you going to do about it? Take your time. I'm in no hurry.

(“Oooo you wanna kiss me so bad ooooo I’m in your head”)

About us, Collaborators: I'll never be one of the good guys. I'm just here to pay my dues after what you've done for me. But what about you? Shouldn't you come up with some excuse for our meetings? If one of your friends mistakes you for collaborating with the enemy, you're on your own.

(He makes the same excuses to be around Nahida, though his lore explains he does truly admire her. Just saying.)

About Damselette: Let me ask: what should you do if you were to encounter a "damsel" who is oblivious and innocent at any given time, and unconcerned and unfeeling in any given situation? If it were me, I could at least challenge her to a fight. But if it were you... with your conscience, I would stay away from her.

(He’s calling Traveler kind-hearted, calling out their optimistic ideology, and warding them away from danger with his more grounded/pessimistic ideology.)

Birthday: Give me your hand. Heh, there's no need to be nervous. I'm just taking you to a vantage point. How is it? The scenery here should be quite breathtaking. There's no need to thank me — I see little point in it.

(Wanderer): Thank you for trying to look out for me. Go get some rest.

Jeht

Through the Golden Slumber world quest, it’s made very clear that the NPC Jeht is significantly [romantically] closer to the female Traveler Lumine. In the quest, they travel together for a time and become close. In a moment of crisis involving the Fatui, Jeht is ordered to kill Lumine, but refuses out of affection for her. She takes the punishment instead, and is offered to a Fatui scientist for experiments by her tribe. Jeht was told it was Lumine that betrayed her, and Lumine was told Jeht had betrayed the tribe, but neither of them chose to believe something bad about the other.

At the end of it all, Jeht chooses to fight by Lumine’s side over her other friends. Inspired by Lumine, Jeht decides to go on her own journey. Their goodbye is tearful.

Lyney

Lyney has only known the Traveler for a short time, but they already have a checkered history. The Traveler trusts Lyney and his sister immediately after meeting them, hangs out with him for a few days, and defends him in murder trial. Only for it to be revealed Lyney was part of the Fatui, who the Traveler has an even worse history with, having killed their friends and put Traveler and their companions in mortal peril many times.

Lyney offers an apology and some of the truth, but the Traveler is still cold with him and brushes him off, believing themselves to be betrayed (and likely influenced by mixed feelings of seeing such close twins). Despite openly admitting to having difficulty with opening up, Lyney makes the effort to be open and truthful with the Traveler during his story quest, rebuilding trust between them. Lyney puts in extra effort to be honest, because he truly wants the Traveler to like him. He gives the Traveler a rainbow rose by the end of it, which even his sister marks as odd, because it represents passion and romantic love in Fontaine. His sister asks the Traveler to “protect that flower for her,” likely alluding to Lyney.

The Traveler trusts him after this enough to include him in the main quest again. Lyney remarks multiple times about how he feels close with the Traveler, how he enjoys talking with them, how the Traveler’s eyes shine like topaz and Lyney could never lie to such beauty.

In Arlecchino's story quest, he’s implied to have talked in detail about the Traveler to his other siblings, and is eager for the Traveler to like them. He is hesitant to involve the Traveler in family business, wanting to keep them safe and saying he will protect the Traveler with his life. The Traveler similarly shows the desire to protect Lyney, stepping in between him and his Father during conflict.

They resonate with one another concerning their twin siblings. Lyney having almost lost Lynette, and the Traveler being separated from their sibling. For the Traveler, this grew from jealousy to admiration, as they see Lyney caring so greatly for his family, a trait Traveler shares. Traveler understands and respects Lynsey’s loyalty to his (fatui) family, and would not be surprised if and when that loyalty drives them apart.

While they are close now after much effort rebuilding trust, they are both silently aware their friendship has an expiration date. Traveler’s goals contradict the Fatui. And with Lyney declaring his loyalty to the Knave as her successor, and this mysterious Fatui scheme the House of the Hearth have been roped into, they both know it’s just a matter of time before circumstance sees them on opposing sides of the battlefield. Though it remains unaddressed for now as they try to enjoy the time they have left together.

Hello: […] Well... Hmm, your eyes are like topaz, precious, pure, and lovely. I like them!

When it snows: Achoo! Phew... I've heard some say that when you sneeze, it means that someone's thinking about you. Is it Lynette, I wonder? Or... is it you?

Good Morning: C'mon, just five more minutes... Huh? Oh! It's you! I thought it was the radiance of the sunlight on my skin that I felt — turns out it was your radiance all along!

About Lyney, sweet talker: I should probably emphasize again that I'm rarely so open with anyone — I guess it's because you're not just anyone.

More about Lyney I: It seems we're both keenly interested in each other. Well, know that the honor is mine! Haha, relax. I couldn't ever tell lies to your mesmerizing eyes — not even if I tried!

More about Lyney V: […] Sometimes I think people would feel sorry for the real me. Do you? *sigh* Or do you find my little games absurd?

(Awwe he cares about what Traveler thinks.)

Ascension: Doing all this for me... Are you trying to steal this magician's heart, by any chance? Well, in that case, congratulations, my dear apprentice — or should I say, "companion." For you have succeeded!

Lyney: It's almost impossible for me to lie to your face... Maybe it's because I can't bear to see that hurt expression of yours.

Lyney: Say, why don’t you look at my hat? Do you see anything different about it?

Huh... Don't think there's any difference.

Lyney: Ah, but that just means you need to look at it more carefully! Just come a bit closer.

Well, alright then.

Lyney: […] No, the whole thing was misdirection.

Lyney: I just played a little trick, and stole something of yours. And after that, I also slipped a card into your bag.

Lyney: Now, can you guess what I stole from you?

My heart?

Lyney: A most unexpected answer! I have to say, even my heart has begun to race too.

Lyney: What I actually stole, however, was your "attention." Even though it's not nearly as valuable as your heart, it's still very important to us magicians nonetheless!

My... attention?

Lyney: Bingo! Congratulations, that was the right answer.

Lyney: […] Anyway, I just want to find a warm, free, and peaceful home for all of my animal assistants.

Lyney: A place where they'll always enjoy care and being lovingly looked after, with no need to worry about food or shelter...

Lyney: To be perfectly honest with you, this [Traveler’s teapot home] is by far the best choice for them that I know of... but I wouldn't want you to feel pressured to take them in, or to persuade you using honeyed words.

Lyney: Good morning, (Traveler)!

Lyney: It would be great if I could see you every morning.

#long post #genshin impact #aether #lumine #all these work with Lumine too I just like drawing Aether more #albedo #Xiao #scaramouche #kamisato ayaka #genshin jeht #lyney #albether #xiaother #scaraether #scaralumi #ayalumi #ayaether #for fun #sorry Jeht I haven’t played your quests I’ve heard good things about you #albelumi #xiaolumi #ayather