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thestarsarecool · 1 year

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Paul McCartney Interview in Q Magazine: Cash for Questions. January 1998 Issue.

Hi, all! A photo of one page of this has been around on tumblr for a while (here), but I’ve always wanted to read the full thing. Some lovely soul on Google Groups in 1997 decided to transcribe the full interview (here), so now I’m uploading it so you can read it. Hooray!

Q. When you first wrote a song with John Lennon, did you realise you would play one of the biggest parts in rock 'n' roll? (Michael McConnell, Crawley, West Sussex)

A. Obviously not. But even with all the so-called "historical" events that followed, you're just too inside it all, too busy doing it to realise anything's "historical". You just get on with it. I'm not a great ponderer. Some people would say that's a mistake but it's just the way I am. It's quite cool not to always get the overall picture because it leaves something to be found out. The musicologists get paid to discover the differences between me and John. I'm only just beginning to see it now, based probably on their analysis. So John is often one note, I'm often more melodic. (McCartney is thinking especially of Ian McDonald's book Revolution in the Head, where he describes the ace partnership in contrasts: Lennon's method is "harmonic, dissonant", McCartney's that of the "natural melodist".) It might sound amazing but we never spotted that when we were writing. We just did our thing. But it is kind of apparent when you bother to analyse it.

Q. If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him (Mark Wilson, Deeside, Flintshire)

A. In bed.

Q. Were you ever envious that Brian Epstein didn't fancy you? (Nick Gibson, London)

A. No, I didn't mind. We just used to go to these clubs at night and wonder why there were so many men. It was OK. Brian was very cool about his side to things. I think the nearest any of us got to it was the John-going-to-Spain thing (it inspired the movie, The Hours And The Times) and I'm not sure what the strength of all that was. I think it was power play on John's part. But Brian kept his private life aside. He kept it out of our faces (pause, possibly for effect). He kept it out of mine, anyway.

Q. What were the last records you bought? (Chris Timms, Harrogate)

A. The Prodigy's The Fat Of The Land, Radiohead's OK Computer and Chopin's Nocturnes.

Q. How do you feel about all the animosity between you and Oasis right now? (Christina Vellano, Syracuse, New York, USA)

A. There is none as far as I'm concerned. What happened was I'd said, Good group, good singer, good songwriters. But people asked me about it so much that one time I decided to take it further and say that they don't mean anything to me. I am not related to Oasis. I wish them good luck and everything. But my kids mean something to me, John Lennon means something to me, but Oasis ....

Q. Who would you pick to play with in your dream six-piece band? (Alan Thatcher, Essex)

A. Dream? So we're into fantasy, aren't we? Ringo, John, George, that's three. Me. Jimi Hendrix. That makes lots of guitarists, so Little Richard on keyboards.

Q. With Wings, did you feel pressurised to live up to The Beatles? (Andrew Williams, Neath)

A. Yes, it was a case of "follow that!". Impossible to do. Looking back on it, it's a lot better than I thought, though some of it is just not PLAYED as well as The Beatles. My son (James, co-worker on McCartney's last pop album, Flaming Pie) plays a lot of Wings, so I'm re-listening, and there's good shit that I'd forgotten about. A lot of the lyrics were off the wall, drug stimulated. Things like "Soily - the cat in the satin trousers says its oily". What was I on? I think the answer is stimulants.

Q. Do you still support the legislation of cannabis? (Grahame Woods, Northwood, Middlesex)

A. I would make a distinction between legalising and decriminalising. I'm in favour of the latter. The problem is that jails are stuffed full of kids doing what a lot of people do. Why stuff the jails with young kids? Plus it's one of the best places to score. I remember when I got busted in Japan, nobody made the slightest effort to rehabilitate me (laughs). Just stuck me in a box for nine days. Obviously you come out and you are fairly resentful.

Q. Do you roll a wicked joint? (Steve Kline, Bury)

A. I have nothing to say in answer to that question, m'lud. I wasn't even at the venue.

Q. The critics have been harsh on your solo work. Did this ever discourage you? (Robert Hemauer, Madison, Wisconsin, USA)

A. Yeah, sure, but you don't let it kill you. It's a difficult one, because it's never cool for someone to tell you you're shit. Many people through history were damned by the critics of their own time - Cezanne, Van Gogh, Stravinsky, all great painters! Ha ha!

Q. We'd like to see your paintings but can't get to the exhibition in Germany (McCartney unveils his work for the first time in Siegen, Germany, next year). Any thoughts about putting your paintings on "tour", or publishing a book of them? (Kathy Goodman, San Diego, CA, USA)

A. A difficult one. If you're a so-called celebrity - like Bowie, Anthony Quinn, Tony Curtis - and you exhibit any art, inevitably, people are not going to think of you as a real painter. Gallery owners come up to me and offer to give me exhibitions. I say, You haven't seen my pictures, and they say, It doesn't matter. Well, it does to me. Otherwise, it's just trading on the name. However, this guy from Germany came over, looked at all my paintings, seems to like them. He's telling me what they're all about.

Q. You've done so many things - classical, films, music, art, drugs - is there anything left you might have a go at? (Tim Bowler, Swansea)

A. The thing is how reluctant I've often been to have a go. I think we were brought up pretty repressed. Brought up to be seen and not heard, to stay in your place, particularly a working class thing. And I think - I hope - with The Beatles, we got rid of a lot of that. With the painting, for instance, it was Willem de Kooning who liberated me. I used to go to his studio, took in one of my paintings, said, Hey Bill, I hope you don't mind but can you tell me what it is? (Affects American drawl) "Oh, looks like a couch." Well it looked like a purple mountain to me. And he says, "Well, whatever." Here's one of the greats, his works go for one million, and it was great to see how little bullshit he was bringing to it all. It's really important to explode these myths that surround the arts, music, painting. It's Wizard of Oz time - so many myths, and it's often just a little man behind the screen. The paraphernalia that surrounds them gets in the way. Often you meet leaders in their field and they have none of that. I remember asking a great painter - Peter Blake, maybe - for some advice once, and he said "Just paint a lot". Similar to my approach to music.

Q. How do you know when a song's finished? (Joyce Slavik, Palatine, Illinois)

A. It's full up. You've answered all of your questions. Normally, I start following a thread: "Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice ... " The thread might come out of nowhere, and I follow it and complete it, like a crossword puzzle. When the crossword is full up, the song is finished.

Q. What's more embarrassing: writing Hi Hi Hi or Say Say Say? (Tien Vu, Costa Mesa, California)

A. (Weighs up pros and cons). Say Say Say.

Q. Why did you give such extensive interviews for an authorised biography (Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now) instead of writing an autobiography? (Deena Hochberg, Southampton, Pennsylvania)

A. I don't think I'm a writer. I've never been moved to do it. You have to have a pretty big fire in the belly to do something as big as that. I fancy music more. I'm happier writing in songs rather than in prose, or poetry. Though I wrote something that was never published about the time I got busted in Japan - for my kids. Because I knew one day they'd say, "Hey dad, what was it like, nine days in a Tokyo jail?". So I had a mate of mind, who did all our printing, knock up a few copies, one for each of the kids.

Q. I'd like to know if Sir Paul sings in the shower, and if so, what does he sing? (Jennifer Nash, Bursville, Minnesota)

A. It's normally the bath. I prefer a good bath. And the answer's Firestarter - "I'm a firestarter, de-de-de-de-dera."

Q. As a kid you used to play pranks at school by throwing balloons filled with something "worse than water". If you had one of those balloons right now who would you like to hit with it? (Brett Yuskiewicz, Leipzig, Germany)

A. Jonathan King. He's a prat from way back.

Q. Which football team did/does each Beatle support? (WC Chan, Maryland, USA)

A. None of us were big footie types. We weren't very sporty, unlike other groups who were always having knock-arounds. My dad was an Everton fan, which I was most of my life. But then Liverpool started playing well, and Everton didn't, so I took the unprecedented move of supporting them both. It's not allowed, I know, but there you go.

Q. For years, you've claimed it's you in the Walrus costume in the Magical Mystery Tour film. But watching the footage shows that for it to be you, you and John would have had to exchange all your clothes. Are you winding us up, or have you not watched the film in 30 years? (Dorothy Northcutt, Tucker, Georgia)

A. The big one. Very good question. I tell you what it was. In the stills we had taken, I was the one with the Walrus head on - in the film it's different. So John then immortalised it in Glass Onion, "I've got news for you all, the walrus was Paul". Obviously at the time you don't care, it's just a Walrus head. You don't realise years later people like our friend from Georgia will analyse it.

Q. What is the quality of each of the other Beatles that you like(d) the best about? (S. Breggles, Richmond)

A. All of them - musical talent. All of them - honesty. Ringo -funny, and kind hearted. George - straightforward and open. John - witty with a soft centre, or maybe hard with a soft centre.

Q. Do the copulating beetles on the sleeve of Ram (1970) stand for F**k The Beatles? (Luc Van de Wiele, Wemmel, Belgium)

A. It happened to be a picture Linda had taken. We couldn't resist it just because of the way it looked. She'd caught these two beetles f**king, and then the significance hit us. We saw that pun, yeah, thought why not?

Q. Was there ever a third Lennon song for Anthology 3? (Jake Lennington, Rush City, MN, USA)

A. There was, but George didn't like it. The Beatles being a democracy, we didn't do it.

Q. I have a Beatles t-shirt which I bought from The Grapes (celebrated Liverpool pub). I was told the band are pictured in their favourite seats - adjacent to the Ladies where you would often catch a glimpse of the girls changing for an evening at The Cavern. True? (Alan Tomkins, Goring, West Sussex)

A. I hope so. It SOUNDS true. Had there been an opportunity to spot the girls changing, I'm sure we would have sat there.

Q. If you hadn't been a musician, what do you think you would have been? (Tony Carter, Manchester)

A. The only thing I could have probably qualified for was teaching. So I might have been an English teacher.

Q. Does it do your head in - stuff like the handwritten lyrics to Getting Better selling for $249,000 at Sothebys? (Peggy Robinson, Trinant, Gwent)

A. It's the price of fame - literally. You scribble them on the back of an envelope, and it gets to be famous. People want it, so it becomes a desirable object. Like Mozart's bog paper, which is another highly desirable object, apparently. More valuable obviously if it's been used.

Q. What is the inscription on the ID bracelet you wear? (Rachel Hyland, West Harford, Connecticut)

A. It says Paul - for when I forget who I am.

Q. How does it feel to have a star named after you (the christening courtesy of American astronomy fans)? (John Sales, Barry, Glamorgan)

A. Really cool. The good thing is that as you get on, your fans get on too. And some of them are pretty swotty. Like the people who started Apple, they were just Beatles fans, hence the name. You don't sit around looking at the sky, trying to find it, but it's like getting a very nice birthday present. I'm not religious, I don't believe in any one system - I sort of think the universe is basically benevolent and we f**k it up - but I am spiritual. I saw Stephen Hawking on TV the other night, and he was saying that we are made of the same stuff as the stars. Which is great. We are all stardust, luv.

Q. What do you want written on your gravestone? (Tom Mangold, Exeter)

A. Here lies Gracie Fields. Anything to keep people away.

Q. Hey, is it true you are dead, and if you are, what is it like? (L.A. Patterson, Hamlet, North Carolina)

A. Yes. And it's very interesting. It's a very interesting afterlife.

#my quotes #my articles #paul mccartney #lots and lots and lots of thoughts #obviously the 'in bed' in quote is ridiculous #but the 'John Lennon means something to me' bit is also of interest #the way he talks about Brian is fascinating #and the way he says 'John-going-to-Spain-thing' is very amusing #My favorite part of the interview is when he says he was probably on stimulant when he wrote some of the Wings stuff #'What was I on?' indeed #I wish he said 'yes I roll a fantastic joint thank you for asking'#my life goal is to smoke a fatty with paul mccartney #him saying he was brought up to be seen and not heard?? hmm #ok why are either of those songs embarassing #ok maybe this is a cultural thing but why was he still taking baths #him just straight up calling out Jonathan King is very ???#I wasn't sure if it was the same guy but @lennons pointed out to me that Paul wrote an open letter calling him stupid in 1990 #here: https://twitter.com/JohnFLyons2/status/1503719188321472521?s=20&t=m3KkkYTjSS5L23CIAthuww #the letter is awesome by the way #Dorothy from Georgia coming through with a 'you and John would have had to exchange all your clothes.'#I feel like I remember him denying the RAM beetles thing in the past so it's nice to see him admit it #of course he sees no problem with watching girls changing #like gross but I think it's funny that he's like 'lmao I hope so haha yeah I would have definitely done that'#love the beatles democracy reference. petty king #ok maybe the most fascinating thing for me here is the gravestone bit #that he would like people not to know where he's buried #he would like people to stay away #hmmmmmm #and for some reason 'it's a very interesting afterlife' made me sad #AND scene

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unproduciblesmackdown · 8 months

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spinning off of "winston being fantastically (literally fantastical (literally related to fantasy)) clairvoyant (he is also figuratively clear-sighted / figuratively preternaturally perceptive just like, in the show. which is where this all comes from. plus him calling himself cassandra, always seeing the future. he really has always / continued to be thusly) and taylor literally has a broadsword" type fun and games that are very loosey goosey b/c billions aus go spinning off into their own separate dimensions super easily when billions canon is so rooted in its specific Stage Settings of modern day US law n finance battles in the office, sidewalks, and eateries:

the thought of winston & tuk and winston gets to be a fairy. jokes, please. changelings are right there with the common theory of "was this to explain disabilities & go 'something could go Wrong and the baby's not a Person and get rid of that,' unlike nowadays where people do that but go 'b/c that baby's disabled'" and also one goes Thinking Emoji about how apparently New Mothers and New Brides were susceptible along with New Borns to become swapped out with a fairy and now something's wrong with them and get rid of that. had to be about Something given that people apparently did act on changeling lore and martin luther is taking a stance like yeah another thesis, it's important to kill them And okay to kill them b/c they don't even have a soul anyways. okay thanks martin luther....meanwhile also witchcraft and getting after anybody for that too. and fairies generally as Problems, the etymology going back to [fate], the range like "ooh hehe causing funny little inconveniences just because" to more so "yeah they could cause life-threatening illness for that" and "yeah they'll just kill you"....and i think fairy/fey as respective noun/adj re: being gay is of Unknown Origin, like "gay" also is. and you never know, if being fey is like, well something's not right and it's dangerous, whether this is the inspiration....though by the time this slang starts turning up, and even in the time of prior possible origins / the roots in other usages / potential inspirations, theoretical actual fairies are surely becoming more Fanciful, this being around like, the 18th century, rather than "here's martin luther telling you to immolate! that! baby!"

but that like, you can have it all ways out here. the Always Small fairies i think being a later kind of victorian deal, rather than "fairies are shapeshifters & can become animals e.g. & May have a 'tiny little inches or millimeters high mode' but that's just a mode & the fact that generally though they just look like people, maybe with some stylistic variations and tells, means watch out" and i think wings came up ever, across yknow the various centuries and regions of folklore out here lmao and possible origins / influences yet further across time & regions & cultures, but again "always small and always winged" being a very relatively modern victorian deal. but we can draw on that to be sure when, additionally, a Potential mutual [would prefer to avoid] between fairies and humans (as opposed to "if your house or some shit is on a fairy path bestie just build them another door to walk straight through cuz they're Gonna") becomes "no, fairies mostly avoid humans more than the other way around" type of imbalance of any threat means like, well hey sure, the Real Self could then become a tiny little magical guy having fun with wing designs who is shy and elusive but maybe another fun little guy can accidentally become aware but then have a secret little hidden friendship hmm....

but then also just thinking of the version where you just look exactly like everyone else and live amongst them, changeling style. and potentially don't Know you're different, or at least not Why, b/c this is a "from birth" thing like hmmm ya don't say. and the whole thread where in some folklore fairies Aren't nonhuman, the difference is only about the separate fairy Realm you live in, which is different, with like "yeah sometimes fairies come from people who died." and alongside / overlapping with everything like "yeah you could disappear for a few days to that realm and then be like 'don't wanna / can't talk about it'" and whatever all various like "watch out for the liminal and unknowingly wandering or being taken into the fairy world and Then watch out for communing with them b/c then you could be Permanently affected, or permanently continually affected or vulnerable, or just stuck there. and we wouldn't want that" like well don't let them know your name but maybe try to find out their names b/c you can get at them in turn that way, don't get in on any food, don't get in on any parties. though variations, sometimes people getting whisked away for particular tasks that apparently Only humans can do. or forever potential for helpful / sympathetic fairy interventions in life. like fairies raising humans b/c their human parents were awful

also, that some classic Tests for "is your baby a changeling?" were very like, "well i guess if we drowned or burned that person and they just died about it....our bad," in the way that like apparently the way to go could be "put them in the fire. where they'll either burn or fly out the chimney." or "start going tf beating them with objects. so that they go away" like and they never stop beating winston with hammers out here!! or the classic "idk abandon them in the forest so fairies can take them back" like well they do also like [i prefer to pretend winston doesn't exist / forget that he does] lmao. this isn't really related. just the ol "ballpeen hammers kind of goated when it comes to putting someone in a sack and beating them to death" factor out here for your local changelings

also sure thinking of like ohh watch out for winston and his gayass Realm he exists in which is wrong and not of our own and potentially will forever change you with its gayass ways. uh oh don't get corrupted into a whole other powerful magical mode of existence if you commune with him in some deep fundamental nourishing ways. oh nooo watch ouuuut....one of the "you might be a changeling if" moments being "when they think they're alone do they act up?? dance??" like yeah i'm stimming and bursting into motion and making noises and existing wrong when i think i'm alone. Old Souls (theory as well that newborn changelings were secretly elderly fairies)....existence in the Fey Realm just making you different and out of place huh. and it would just be a guy though like either [undetectable except by already trying to kill them] and/or [actually just a human, fairies are just humans, fairies b/c they're in/from the fairy realm] but uh oh don't let him corrupt you. don't go hanging out with him and talking with him and partaking in his activities and embracing his ways. you'll be changed. you'll never fit in around here and be able to do things right ever again. we'll have to start beating you with hammers. and all for what. your weird gayass little guy and a whole possible other dimension of existence? vs all This? smh

#that fey little mf. all the same glasses hoodies cargo pants winston....#winston billions #you can't go wrong. sort of semi fantastical au. or just modern day ''fairies can even be in your hedge fund office'' magical realism #not even like there's clear Powers lol like what do fairies do? well bit fuzzy on that but one things for sure:#cause problems for US!!!! like wow the way symptoms & definitions of disabilities are approached much?#you might be a fairy if....ouch i'm dead of unclear causes in 1337. Not very 1337....#winston is truly always causing problems. also learned that ''oaf'' (another word i've recently thought like ''i would just not say that''#b/c for some reason the nyt i believe described orville wingate as [still an(?)] Oaf & i was like a) huh b) excuse me) derives from fairy #as it was a term for a changeling specifically :I which juuust so happens to lead to connotations of Stupidity(tm) & Clumsiness(tm)#hmm! you do not say it!#what could changeling winston do? up for grabs. but the point is: change(ling) your life. and other fun things :)#also i think another potential fairy ability was: seeing the future as well lol. it's all coming together #seeing winston with fun bird wings b/c you've communed with him ''too much'' already. not an angel thing. a fairy thing #(sidebar abt how some Lore was that they Are an angel thing. see: influence from whole other traditions lol)#winston Becoming a bird b/c he can do things like that b/c fairies are shapeshifters. he's a pigeon =) you have a nest for him =) cooing #another parallel like ''definitely don't fuck him or you're locked in to his gay autistic realm for sure''#just like how as a theoretically real world autistic person everyone just knows winston isn't allowed to have sex #nowadays how ridiculous to imagine going: we think someone is weird & dislike their vibes; they shouldn't exist. we should ostracize them #we would never be like; some corruption has caused your child to exist wrong. basically taking your Real child away from you #or when they do tragically exist that they should be driven away to any possible extent up to ''just kill them :( sorry for You btw''#with the Possibility fairies could give you your Real Human Child back....#autistic kid? number one recommendation totally isn't ''put them in specialized abuse school where we try to banish the autism for you''

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enzombie · 1 year

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If the muppets did izombie I think Enzo should be the non-puppet (I'd say the human but he's a zombie so) - not just because he's my fave - but because I think he's one of the only characters who could out-muppet the muppets while being completely and entirely serious

#like he's not even trying #he has the power to stun silence anyone with his ridiculousness and that includes little felt guys #my proof for this: dippy dippy bon bon #Fozzie makes a joke about Kermit and Enzo both being frogs and Enzo becomes the first man to attempt to guillotine a puppet #also so much of John's comedic delivery is in his expressions and we can't lose that #ALTHOUGH I think Liv interacting with the muppets would be extremely cute #and Blaine with muppet goons would be fantastic #izombie #enzo lambert

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fettuccin-e · 11 months

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Honey-Sweet

Description: You're far too sweet for him. He's determined not to ruin you, despite the fact that he seems to ruin everything, and everything about you just seems to make his fantasies worse. But one night can change everything, apparently, when Miguel finally sees how completely not sweet you can be.

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, hoooh boy a lotta smut okay, oral (m and f recieving), unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), riding, doggy, missionary, some fluff bc i'm not completely deranged, light degradation (w/c: 2.1K)

A/N: oh lord the Miguel brainrot is REAL folks okay this is fucking crazy. I WANT THIS MAN TO **** ** **** * ****** ******* okay he has me fuckin frothing at the DAMN MOUTH actin like a DAMN DOG okay so please enjoy a bit of a miguel smutfest

You’re too fucking sweet for him. That’s what he tells himself. Miguel O’Hara doesn’t do sweet.

You’re fucking sweet with the way you bring cookies in for the other Spiders that accompany you on missions. You’re sweet in how you brought in a ridiculous hand-made baby blanket for Mayday when Peter first brought her in, emblazoned with his Spider-Man logo to wrap her up tight in. You’d kissed the baby on the head, whispering tiny sweet nothings into her bright red hair, and Miguel had had to hide the emergence of his fangs at the sight of it.

You’re too sweet, too kind for him. You organize little movie nights at the office, you make him stay a little longer on missions so you can see the tourist spots from different universes. And the way you look at him, all wide-eyed and bright and smiling… it does things to him.

It makes him want to bring you flowers, kiss you on the cheek. It makes him want to plan fucking candle-lit dinners and bake cupcakes with you. All sweet, too sweet.

But, because he apparently can’t stop himself, you also want to make him do decidedly not sweet things. Like grab at your tits through your suit, pinching your nipples until your knees go weak and you whimper his name in your gorgeous little voice. Like force you down on your knees, fucking his cock into your hot mouth while tears leak down your cheeks. Like tying you up with his webs, eating your pretty cunt out while you struggle against them, whining that “it’s too much, too much Miguel.” Like fucking you deep, so fucking deep on his cock, making you squeeze around him while you scream for him, beg for him to fill you up with cum. He thinks about watching it leak out of your achy pussy, dripping down your thighs.

But you’re so goddamn sweet, too gorgeous and lovely, and he can’t ruin you, he can’t.

So when you finally wear him down, finally get him to go to coffee with you, he tries to be just as sweet as you. You hold his fucking hand, you kiss him on the cheek. You smile into his mouth as his lips meet yours in front of your apartment door. Miguel swears that his heart will pop with how much it swells when you’re near him.

He brings you flowers, walks you to your door, brings you lunch while you’re filing post-mission paperwork. And God, it’s beautiful. It’s fantastic and bright and so wonderfully domestic that Miguel wonders if he’s died, gone to some heaven he doesn’t deserve. He’s determined to revel in the domesticity of this… thing he’s created with you, his disgusting fantasies be damned.

He doesn’t like to think about how he has to fuck his hand after he drops you off at your house, his lips still burning with the touch of your soft, soft kiss. He thinks about how your lips would look stretched around his dick.

He’s content. He��s happy. For the first time in so fucking long, he’s happy. And he’ll happily tug on his dick by himself for the rest of damn time if it means that he gets to revel in your soft, pretty, wonderful sweetness for a little bit longer. He will not ruin you.

But.

As he kisses you softly in front of your apartment, the both of you still suited up from your latest mission, you tug him closer. You pull him down into your hungry mouth, and you lick into him like you’re starving for it. He can’t help how he growls at the feeling of it, his big hands coming to clutch at your hips. God, you’re pretty, fucking addicting with the way your tongue tangles with his and how you whimper when his hands cup your ass, tugging you up just that extra inch.

“Take me to bed, Miguel,” you gasp between feverish kisses, and fuck, he’s gone.

He hauls you into his arms, and his knees almost go weak at the way you wrap your thighs tightly around his middle, the way you lick into his mouth all over again.

And Miguel has spent so much time in his head, thinking, no, knowing that you’re sweeter than goddamn pie. It’s in every fucking breath you take, every moment he spends with you.

But that night, as he lays you onto the bed, gently, gently like you deserve, he learns that you’re not as sweet as he thinks you are.

Not at all.

Not with the way you roll him over with your strength, begging for him to disengage his suit, looking at him like you want to devour him as it dissolves around him, leaving him bare to your gaze. You graze a reverent hand up his chest as he heaves under you, whispering, “God, can’t believe I’ve waited this long to have you like this. You’re so pretty, Miguel.”

Pretty. Pretty? He can’t be the pretty one, no, not when you’re unzipping your own suit, and he can see everything. Every inch of supple, soft skin. Your nipples, hard and peaked and begging for his touch. Your pretty, pretty pussy; he can see how you’re practically dripping, the wetness between your legs glistening in the soft lamplight.

And you’re not sweet, not sweet at all, when you nip and suck little marks down his chest and abs, grinning up at him like a damn siren when he gasps at your touch. Fuck, you’re the opposite of everything he thought when you take his cock into your mouth, bobbing deeper, deeper until you just can’t anymore, jacking the rest of his cock while you kiss and lick and suck at him.

You grab his hand with your free one, and pull it into your hair. You pull up from his cock, and Christ, there’s a line of your spit that connects you to his throbbing tip, and Miguel thinks that he might die.

“Fuck my face, baby?” you rasp, and yes, that’s it, Miguel is going to fucking die here. But he can’t refuse you, with those gorgeous eyes gazing up at him, the tip of his cock on your tongue.

It’s not sweet, not at all, when he forces your head down on his cock, pressing himself deep into your pretty little mouth. And you moan like you love it, just taking it as he thrusts roughly into your mouth. Your spit runs down his shaft, your little whimpers and the way you choke when the tip jams into the back of your throat all echoing in his ears.

He can’t hear himself, but God, you can. You relish the way he growls every time he pushes you down deep, telling you that, “You’re such a good girl, hermosa. Mierda, mi nena perfecta.” Your pussy throbs.

He isn’t soft, isn’t gentle like he told himself to be when he pulls you off his cock. You gasp for air, and Miguel groans as he pulls you up by your hair, dragging your spit-slick lips to his mouth. He can taste himself on your lips, all sticky and hot and puffy.

You whine against his mouth, murmuring little pleas of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” into him, and his cock twitches, red and aching desperately for your touch.

“Have to make sure you’re ready,” he mumbles, even though he aches, even though his claws threaten to show.

“Nononono,” you whine, and then you sit back, hovering over his cock, fucking monstrous compared to the tiny opening of your dripping pussy, and press down.

Fuck, it’s like heaven inside you, all perfect and wet and hot, and you whine, muttering that, “It’s so fucking big, God, stretches me so perfect, so fucking perfect, so much bigger than I could have dreamed-“

“Nena,” he interrupts you with a hoarse groan of his own, “gotta stop, ‘s gonna, gonna hurt you, oh fuck-“

And you grin at him again, filthy and raunchy and not sweet at all, as you say “I fucking want it to hurt, Miguel. Wanna feel you in the morning, wanna feel you all the time.” And you press yourself the rest of the way down his thick cock, gasping for air, your hips twitching like they can’t decide whether to run away from the sensation or seek it.

“Fuck, wanna feel you all the time,” you murmur and Miguel can’t decide whether you’re actually talking to him or not. “Want you to fuck me so hard I can’t breathe, fill me up so fucking perfect, God, oh my God, ‘m so fucking full,” you roll your hips forward in desperate little circles, a weak attempt at getting him deeper. An endless stream of “fuck me, fuck me, please please please,” starts to leave your lips again, and you sound so desperate, so needy, that Miguel can’t help but roll you over, pinning you underneath him, and fucking his cock so hard and so deep into you that you dig your fingers into his back and sob.

He does what you ask that night. He fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, until tears leak from your eyes and your bed is soaked with a mixture of yours and his cum. And God, you scream for him, begging him for more, deeper, harder.

The slick sounds of your bodies meeting over and over must be heard all over the building, but Miguel can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s able to fuck you like this, disgusting and filthy.

How could a sweet, lovely, soft thing like you love this so much?

From that night on, it seems that all bets are off. From that night on, it seems that you make it a mission to show him exactly how not sweet you are.

Fuck, there’s no sweetness to you when you hump your hips into his face the next morning, practically smothering him in your pussy as you squeal and tangle your fingers in his hair. He digs his fingers so hard into your thighs that he’s sure they’ll bruise, and licks up your juices. Your pussy is honey-sweet on his tongue.

You’re not soft when you ride him into the mattress, throwing yourself down onto his cock and moaning as you stretch yourself out. You drag your nails down his chest as you bounce desperately in his lap, and Miguel kind of hopes you draw blood.

There isn’t an ounce of innocence when you sink down on your knees under his desk when he’s in a goddamn meeting, pulling his cock out and sucking at him until his claws shoot out and leave splintering holes in his desk. He has to hide his fangs from the video camera when you choke.

When he finally, finally cuts the meeting short, feeding the other Spider-Men some bullshit excuse about a new anomaly, he presses your head to the base of his cock and shoots his cum down your throat. He means it as a punishment, but when he pulls you off his cock, and sees you with your eyes all glassy and smiling lazily, he can’t help but bend you over the desk and finger fuck you until you cry and scream and beg for him to fuck you with his cock.

You are so far from sweet when he fucks you on the floor after a mission, tensions run too taut and adrenaline racing through your veins. You throw your ass back onto him with every thrust into your sloppy cunt, moaning as he growls, “Such a fucking slut, can’t get enough of this cock, huh? My sweet, sweet girl, what would the rest of the Spiders say if they knew what a fucking whore you are for me?”

And when you choke on your spit around your screams, he leans down to whisper that, “I know, cariño, I know. I'm gonna take care of you,” before he shoves your face down into the carpet and mounts you, shoving his fat cock down into you again and again and again.

Miguel is positive that he’s died and gone to heaven.

It’s not to say that you’re not the same, sweet girl who brings cookies to the office and holds his hand. No, you’re the same, perfect, sweet girl, only that you let him thank you for the cookies by eating you out on the kitchen floor. You hold his hand while you jerk his cock and swallow his moans with your kiss.

You’re just the right kind of sweet for him.

#yeah so #i wrote this in a TRANCE #want this man to throw me around like a ragdoll #can you tell that im ovulating #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #across the spiderverse fic #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader

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homostacis · 1 year

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#can you tell ive rewatched the greatest living show a ridiculous amount of time #its so fucking good holy shit i knew it would be fantastic but like #next level #anyways an interesting motif!#also ribbons are another recurring motif in both these videos and undertale so im guessing the ribbons will be important in deltarune #loss of innocence thing? noelle wore them before dess disappeared but stopped after #if you ask we what these circles mean i have no fucking clue i just thought it was interesting #deltarune

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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“The demon is back.” Eddie pokes into Steve’s side to wake him up.

“Babe, please go back to sleep.” Steve shoves his face into the pillow, making his voice muffled.

“Steeeeve.” Eddie whines, “It’s really there I swear this time. And I locked the door so I know it’s the demon again. Nothing else can get inside.”

“Eddie.” Steve squishes his face even deeper into the mattress. “You do this at least once a week. I love you; I do. But I never look because there is no demon. And every morning, you wake up fine. So please, go back to sleep.”

“What if I promise never to mention it again if it’s not really there? Will you look then?” This time Eddie’s voice wavers, his actual terror showing.

Steve sighs and shifts his head to look at Eddie, “This is really freaking you out, huh?” He says it kindly. Steve can tell this is serious to Eddie. So even if he doesn’t believe it, Eddie does. And what’s important to Eddie is important to Steve.

Eddie nods back furiously.

“Okay, I’ll look.” Steve shifts his head towards the other side, where the chair by the window sits. There, sitting in that corner is a dark shadowy figure. “Oh.”

“See! I told you! Demon! Oh god, it’s gonna get us.” Eddie throws his hands up. Even though he’s terrified, he’s accepted defeat.

“No.” Steve says calmly. “It’s just El.”

Eddie pauses his rant, “What?”

“It’s just El. In the corner. She does that sometimes, watches people she cares about until she falls asleep. To make sure they’re safe.” Steve looks at Eddie.

“The door was locked! How are you so calm about one of the kids just watching us at night?”

“Honey, she has mind powers. I don’t think a flimsy lock from Home Depot is going to stop her.” Steve deadpans before shrugging, “And it’s El. She could ask me to kill a man, and I probably wouldn’t even ask questions.”

“What if she asked you to kill me?”

“I’d be conflicted.”

“I want to be mad, but honestly I think I’d hand you the knife.” Eddie sighs, looking down at Steve.

Steve scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wouldn’t stab you. I’d obviously sneak some kind of poison into your honeycombs. Way less messy.”

Eddie goes back to nearly shouting, “Why have you thought about this?!”

“Honestly, I have a lot of intrusive thoughts. I just don’t speak them out loud.”

Despite the fact they are actively talking about his murder, Eddie can’t help but get all gooey with Steve in their bed. “Is this why you don’t get mad when I think aloud? Another reason why you just get me. Adding that tally to the ‘why we are great together’ column.”

“Yes, we’re pretty amazing. Can we go back to sleep now?” Steve smiles.

“Yes—wait, no.” Eddie corrects himself, getting himself back on track. He loves this man, but he is a sneaky little minx. “Why did El never say anything? I mean, this is not the first time I accused her of being a demon. Hell, we’ve been talking for literally five minutes, and she still hasn’t said anything. Also, what if she walked in on us doing, ya know, adult stuff?” Eddie blushes at the end. He’s acting like he hasn’t been whispering way worse things in Steve’s ear every night.

“First off, she won’t walk in on that. Apparently Max taught her about happy screams a long time ago.”

“Gross.”

“Yeaaa. Second, I’m pretty sure she’s asleep right now.”

Huh, now that Eddie thinks about it, he does hear soft little snores. Which is weird since neither he nor Steve snores, and they are both, ya know, awake.

“And I don’t think El speaking in a dark corner would have helped your fears. Like imagine just hear her soft “Hello” at 2 a.m.” Steve raises an eyebrow.

“I—okay I got nothing.”

“Fantastic can we go back to sleep now?”

Eddie gives one last shout, “You’re not going to stop her?”

“Are you going to tell her no? And make her worry?”

Eddie slinks down into the covers, “...no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Eddie curves his body into Steve’s, seeking him out. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, securing him to his chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Steve hums. “Anything for you baby. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Eddie kisses Steve lightly.

“I love you both as well.” El’s voice suddenly speaks into the silent room.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screams.

Steve can’t help the giggles that come out of him. He tries to smother them into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie can’t find it in himself to be mad.

———

some people seemed interested in more el + Steve sibling energy. And they are a sibling-like duo I love. So here’s a little something but more steddie involved. I think all three of their relationship would be very sweet. Both Eddie and Steve would protect el. I hope you enjoyed :)

#steddie #stranger things #el and Steve have a sibling relationship #el could set the world on fire and Steve would say good job #both Steve and Eddie have intrusive thoughts #they just go about it in different ways #Eddie Munson #eleven hopper #ficlet #fluff #steven harrington #my writing #no byler in this one sorry #steve harrington is a sweetheart #everybody lives/nobody dies #Post season 5 #steve x eddie

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tulliok · 9 months

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What would be Sunburst's role in the AU, if any at all?

So I actually designed Sunburst already and made up a backstory for him and Starlight! Here’s the first explorations I did of him. I did try drawing him with the cute wizard beard, but a mustache was just more period appropriate and I had to take some liberties. The inspiration board included Harvey from Stardew Valley, Milo Thatch from Atlantis, and Newt Scamander from Fantastic Beasts.

I rewatched “The Parent Map”, and was disappointed by the way that the show failed to explore how Starlight and Sunburst’s parental figures affected their trauma and future relationships. (In general I think Starlight and Sunburst are severely underutilized.) Instead of their families being well-meaning socialites like in the series, they’re members of the Italian-American mob. Starlight and Sunburst have a lot more baggage in the AU as a result.

For Starlight’s father, instead of him being just a silly dad that coddles her too much, I figured it would make more sense if he was far more controlling of her life. It would explain her obsessive need for control and why she has so much trouble handling friendships in the future. Rather than the cutie mark cult, I made her an innkeeper that operates an underground speakeasy. @bixels suggested making her a loan shark as well.

Sunburst is still magically and intellectually gifted, but I scrapped the magic school dropout thing. My idea for his backstory is that he was a golden child that couldn’t take the pressure of being in the mob, so he was disowned by his mother. Him having to leave without a choice makes more sense to me as to why the event was so traumatic to Starlight, as Sunburst was her only friend. In the AU he works as a linguist and magical historian.

I sorta just made these up as my own responses to what I don’t like about their arcs and backstories in the series, while also taking the era into account. Starlight’s motive for her villainous actions in the show is honestly too ridiculous for me and it needs more details, and Sunburst is given practically no backstory.

#mlp #mlp 1920s au #sunburst #starlight glimmer #rambling about story and character stuff #yes this is about ponies

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mylonelylittlestar · 4 months

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My little star

Characters: Xavier Summary: random relationship headcanons with Xavier Warnings: None A/N: I've completely fallen in love with Love and Deepspace, especially with Xavier. It's truly hopeless

the type of boyfriend to get you matching pyjamas

he gets you so many that they slowly start to replace all of your own

likes to match with you even if you don't live together, so sometimes he just texts you to ask which pyjamas you're wearing so he can change into the matching one after he showered

if you ever gift him slippers, blankets, or pillows, he will keep them forever (even if it's something goofy like those big fluffy bunny slippers)

the best person to ask for good midnight snacks. He can recommend fantastic instant noodles, chips, crackers, or other snacks that are light and won't give you stomach aches late at night or negatively impact your sleep in any other way

very interested in your skincare routine (if you have one) and will try out any mask or cream that you give him

if you come up with a routine for him (a simple one, maybe, like the basic cleanser > toner > moisturizer), he will follow it diligently, dragging himself out of bed before he sleeps every day to do it because you were the one to pick those products for him and he doesn't want to waste that

he feels like it connects you to him, even if your routine is completely different and a bit more complicated

never cries during movies, no matter how sad they might be, but he does (on very rare occasions) get a bit teary-eyed

he will hold you if you cry during a movie, and he would never even think about making fun of you for it

he does secretly think that it's cute that you get so worked up about a movie

can sleep through anything. a bomb could go off in his house and he wouldn't know that it happened until he woke up

has seen every single episode of any shitty sitcom you can think of at least three times because he occasionally watches them while he sleeps

sometimes he quotes them but because he knows each of these shows so well now he always quotes the lesser known scenes and no one gets what he's talking about

you start to understand his references after a while, so sometimes he will quote some obscure scene from a super unpopular sitcom that got cancelled after one season and you're the only one laughing

secretly sneaks to the arcade sometimes to practice the claw machine game because he wants to get you the plushies you don't have yet (and to impress you)

he ends up getting dozens of repeats of plushies that you already own. he collects in a small storage room in his apartment that used to be empty

he ends up giving them away when the collection gets out of control, donating them to a children's hospital nearby

gets all shy when you find out about it, blushing bright red like a tomato (or a wasabi octopus)

knows about every single 24 hour store in the city because of his odd sleeping habits and always knows what to do no matter what time it is

you can't sleep and want to go on a date at 3:27 am? he knows a place

if someone is mean to you he will try his hardest to deescalate the situation, but he's also fully willing to fight the person if that doesn't work

I mean have you read his Anecdotes 2? He doesn't give a fuck. He'd prefer not to fight, sure, but if it's unavoidable? What is he gonna do? Not fight and defend you? Ridiculous.

The fandom has already started turning him into this soft uwu stereotype, but the thing is that that's... just not him? He's sweet and kind, yes, but that's not all he is. He's complicated! He has layers!

if he ever falls asleep during a date he would feel awful about it for days, even if you reassure him that it's fine and that you're glad that he feels safe enough around you to fall asleep

he tries to make it up to you with a different date and he falls asleep again, which starts a vicious, endless cycle

when he finally does get over his guilt it's only because you fall asleep during a date after you had a long day at work

knows when you cheat in kitty cards, but sometimes he just lets you get away with it, especially if he knows you had a stressful day at work. He hopes that the win will cheer you up

his good night kisses are forehead kisses while his good morning kisses are on top of your head if you didn't sleep over or on the cheek if you did

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #xavier x reader #xavier fluff

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soundsfaebutokay · 1 year

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The Amazing Devil moments that made me wonder how Joey Batey is even real

those album credits on Bandcamp where it's just Joey Batey's name listed repeatedly for a ridiculous number of instruments

the beautiful tongue-twisters in Love Run (reprise)

his voice around 5:50 on New York Torch Song: "It starts off like a pin prick, a trick of the light oil slick"—that. was. obscene.

the stunning simplicity of his performance in Elsa's Song

his character work in Two Minutes. His singing is brilliant, yes. But also the acting.

This man really just said with his whole chest, "Sex is better when you're unemployed" and refused to explain anything. Iconic.

wearing a dress and looking absolutely fantastic in it. Case in point: THATW album photos

"Welcome to the storm, I am thunder. Welcome to my table bring your hunger." CHILLS. The very best kind of chills.

the instant serotonin hit of "Could be ghosts or monsters or a robot vampire, I dunno!" Incredible.

Welly Boots and the number of times he's made me cry with it. This man is a hazard.

That part of Farewell Wanderlust. You know the one.

How dare you make me equate romance and tenderness with a that's what she said joke, Joey. How very dare you. The worst of his many crimes, surely.

the exquisite menace of "No no, not I."

burning Nicholas Sparks' entire filmography to the ground with just one (1) love song that lasts all of 6 minutes and 15 seconds

that quiet little "I’m doing fine" that sends me wailing into the wind

"Welcome to ruin." I would keysmash, but that's far too civilized for how that line made me feel.

laughing at himself for making three mistakes that no one else can hear in Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious

the powerhouse musical theater performance of Blossoms. You can hear his facial expressions. HOW.

all of The Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace. Just. All of it.

"I will be the man my father never was." SIR.

Just. How are you even real, Joey Batey?

#haberdayyyyy Joey!!!#Joey Batey #The Amazing Devil #music #my faves #my TAD obsession #from right now until it hits midnight in the UK time zone (and maybe past that) it will be all Joey posts on this blog #it's Joey day #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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lonelier-version-of-you · 2 years

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Sorry everyone, every time I rewatch Report to the Mirror it just becomes all I can talk about for 2-3 business days lmao.

#my mom described it as shakespearean and she is SO right #it is EXTREMELY underappreciated #i get why people would dislike it as an episode of a medical drama #because the gaskell storyline was so ridiculous overall #but oh my god as a piece of television in its own right it is AMAZING #it's also quite possibly guy henry's best ever episode #he's fantastic the whole way through #his acting in the lake scene is so underrated

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elvensorceress · 1 month

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idk I get incredibly angry at homophobes being cast on my gay shows. anybody want the start of my fic where Eddie dumps her bigoted ass and then has a gay ole sexy time with his husband and his husband's new boyfriend? because here. you can have. it's cathartic 💕

test drive - 2K, BuckTommy, BuckEddieTommy, Buddie endgame forever / Explicit

The restaurant is dimly lit in a way that might be classy and romantic, but Tommy’s hand is also on Buck’s thigh. And he’s having a lot of very not-classy, not even very romantic sorts of thoughts. Everything is far more along the lines of, he could put his hand on my dick, and I know what his cock feels like down my throat, and why are we here in a public place when we could be back at my loft taking turns fucking each other until we’re both a mess of cum and lube and sweat and sexy bruises and love bites? Because all of that is way more appealing than what they are sitting here, waiting to do.

If it were just one of their dates, it’d be great. Those are fantastic. Tommy likes to pick him up and take him to nice places and he smiles in a really, really soft cute way that also has an air of, I am going to fuck you until you scream and you will love every second. And holy fucking god, does Buck love every second.

Bisexuality, man. Who knew?

It’s so fantastic. It’s so different? Or maybe it’s just that Tommy is different because he’s ridiculously cool and hot and Buck always really liked when someone knew what they wanted and would take the lead and he could do everything in his power to please them and make them feel good. Confidence is infinitely sexy and competence even more so. And Tommy has all of that in spades.

And Buck loves men. Buck really loves men. It makes so much sense and how had he never even considered? Maybe he considered but he sure as hell never realized wanting a man and being attracted to a man was something that fit so well. Fuck, it fits so well.

Maybe he could even end up with a man someday? Maybe he could marry a man and have a relationship that is like this all the time for the rest of his life? Not that he doesn’t like women still. Women are great. People who don’t identify as either or they identify as both or however they choose— they’re great, too.

Everyone is hot and Evan Buckley is very bisexual, and it just might be one of the greatest revelations he’s ever had.

He’s just really, really enjoying being with a man right now.

He is not, however, enjoying the thought of this dinner. Everything about this dinner makes his stomach a washing machine of anxiety. For no reason. He doesn’t know why. There’s nothing wrong with it.

Why wouldn’t he and his boyfriend go on a double date with his best friend who is their mutual friend, and his best friend’s girlfriend. What is wrong with that? It’s fine. Should be— fun?

Shouldn’t be a bad taste in his mouth that the wine still hasn’t gotten rid of and roiling in his stomach that is really killing his appetite. But it very much is.

Tommy squeezes Buck’s thigh and rubs it in a way that surely is supposed to be comforting. But it makes Buck want to drag him out of this restaurant and back to the loft where he can show Tommy how good he is at fucking him now. Not just because it would be a thousand times better than the prospect of this dinner. The bar is so low on the ground, it’s buried at this point. But also because sex with his new boyfriend is better than— actually, Buck is having a hard time thinking of anything that is better right now.

Very hard time.

They’ve been practicing. Everything. Blowjobs, fucking, fingering, ball massages, prostate milking, rimming— all sorts of really fun things Buck never even imagined could feel so good. Not that he was oblivious to a lot of it. He has toys. His ex was into pegging. Buck might have been unaware of how intense and gay— well, bi. He’s bi now. Buck is bi now. Probably always was but he knows it now. He’s bisexual.— his attraction to men could be. But he was not unaware of sexual acts that feel good to his body.

But it’s totally different with a real man and a real cock and being manhandled by someone who might actually be bigger and stronger than you is really fucking hot.

He checks his watch again and it’s already 7:28. They’re almost half an hour late. Which is so not like Eddie. He’s not sure if Marisol is like that but he knows for sure Eddie is either fifteen minutes early for everything or he texts if there is a problem. Even then, he’s only ever a few minutes late. If that. And last Buck checked, there were no new messages on his phone.

He checks again, and still nothing. Not even to Buck’s message of, hey u ok? u on the way? He frowns and sets his phone back on the table and turns to Tommy. “How long before I’m allowed to be really worried?”

Tommy gives him an amused smile. “You can be worried.”

“How long before we need to bother Athena? Ten more minutes? Five? Sh-should I bother Athena now?”

Tommy’s eyebrows scrunch and he looks at Buck like he’s crazy. Okay, it’s probably crazy. Just. He’s worried? That must be the churning in his stomach. “I’m sure Eddie’s fine. It hasn’t been that long. And he’s Eddie.”

Yeah. Yeah, he’s Eddie. But Eddie was also shot downtown in the middle of broad daylight and nearly bled out all over, and there’s not much anyone can do even if they are trained in hand to hand combat and self-defense and those kinds of things. Not many ways to defend against a sniper round that shouldn’t even be a thing.

Not that Buck is thinking about that. Ever.

He’s just turning into a washing machine over this dinner. That’s all.

Five minutes later, some of it finally eases when Eddie finally shows up and sits down across from them. Alone.

Alone?

“Sorry, guys,” Eddie runs a hand through his hair and breathes like he’s run a hundred miles. He’s hardly been looking distressed at all lately. He’s been glowing smiles and pretty laughs. Not pretty. Nice? Good? Good that he’s so much happier and at peace.

But he’s not that now.

“I would��ve—” Eddie checks his own watch, one that was a Christmas present that Buck had engraved with, all the time you need, and must realize how late he actually is. “Fuck. Sorry. Really sorry. I’ll buy? Unless you’ve already eaten and paid and are about to leave.”

Tommy shakes his head and has that nice smile that’s so reassuring. “We haven’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“We were waiting,” Buck adds and itches to ask him what’s wrong, why he’s late, why he looks— like he isn’t okay.

“Great.” Eddie nods tersely and it sounds anything but great. “They got anything stronger than wine and cocktails here? Because—” He doesn’t say. But he does make a face the conveys everything.

“Doubt it,” Tommy says. “But we can get something somewhere else. Is Mar— Mari?”

“Marisol,” Buck supplies. Not that it matters. Not that he cares. Is he supposed to care? There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s fine.

“Right,” Tommy says, which should say everything. Eddie’s been hanging out with Tommy for months, Buck’s been with Tommy for months, and Tommy is pretty damn good at remembering people’s names. “Marisol. Is she still on the way?”

Eddie’s jaw gets very tight. “No. We’re done.”

Tommy looks at Buck and Buck looks at Tommy. They’re done? They broke up? Not that it’s particularly surprising. Part of the curse of dating someone you met on a call. Gotta be. Also the whole thing where Eddie has some kind of commitment issues or something because as soon as he gets a girlfriend, he has to spend all his time doing anything besides being with said girlfriend.

“So, drinking?” Tommy says.

Buck pushes his wine glass across the table. They usually share when they eat together. Drinks, food, anything. And he’s happy to offer it to the cause.

“Yes, drinking.” Eddie takes Buck’s wine and downs all of it.

Eddie’s single again. Marisol isn’t coming to dinner and she’s not part of their lives any longer. Not that Buck has a problem with her. She’s fine. She was nothing really. That wasn’t going to last. Eddie likes the idea of being with someone. So he says. He’s allergic to actually having a relationship for some reason.

The washing machine in Buck’s stomach disappears though. Which is so much better. Now, it’s just Buck hanging out with his best friend and his boyfriend.

Maybe there’s a little washing machine. It’s nothing though.

They order food and drinks, and Eddie only goes through a couple shots and three glasses of wine and one beer. But he eats and also drinks water and doesn’t seem inebriated at all. So, they focus on the meal and Tommy’s latest work stories of helicopter rescues.

It’s not until after Buck discreetly hands their waiter his credit card before they’re actually brought the bill, that Eddie actually starts talking.

“I kind of fucked up. Didn’t mean to. I owe you an apology,” he says and looks at Buck with worlds of regret and sorrow.

Whatever it is, Buck forgives him. He’s sure he’s done far worse than whatever it is. “Why? What, uh, what happened?”

Eddie doesn’t look at him. Or Tommy. He does shake his head but not like he’s saying no. More like he’s disgusted. “I let it slip that you two are— that you’re. Dating. Together. Boyfriends? Do you call each other that? Are you boyf— never mind, I let it slip. I’m sorry. That was my bad. Not my secret to tell.”

Tommy looks scrunched and confused again and Buck— he doesn’t understand what the problem is? No, he hasn’t told many people yet. But it’s not a secret that he and Tommy are together.

“Eds,” Buck says and immediately thinks he probably shouldn’t have called him that. He doesn’t know why. But he shouldn’t. “It’s fine. I’m not— It’s not a secret. I’m not hiding. Or— or in the closet? I’m out. Now. I’m bi and—” And he’s really happy about that. He really loves it. He’s bisexual. He loves women and men and whoever regardless of gender. And holy shit, does he love men right now. He really, really loves being with a man. He looks to his side and grins brightly at Tommy. “And I’m not ashamed or embarrassed that Tommy and I are together.”

There’s a cute half smile that curves the side of Tommy’s mouth and Buck so wants to kiss him. And do all sorts of other things with him.

“Well. Good.” Eddie taps his finger on an empty shot glass like he’s contemplating ordering another. “Still. Didn’t go well. Didn’t mean to out you like that.”

“Didn’t go well?” Tommy asks. “Saying that Evan and I are dating didn’t go well?”

Eddie purses his lips and does a slow, exaggerated shake of his head. “Nope. But at least I learned that now. Has the waiter brought our check yet? Because I’m just going to drink more if I don’t head out soon. Not that I’m sad about her or anything. I’m pissed. You think you know someone, and no. No, she’s a raging homophobe.”

She— oh. Oh, that’s what happened. “She broke up with you because we’re gay? Bi and gay? Or— you know what I mean.” Is Tommy gay? Or bi? Or something else? Buck hasn’t actually asked what label he uses. How he qualifies his sexuality. He felt weird asking. It’s so personal. Is he supposed to ask? All he knows is that Tommy was into him. Tommy kissed him and it was breathtaking, incredible, magnificent and changed Buck’s whole life. He didn’t really think anything beyond that. Couldn’t really think beyond that.

Eddie definitively points at himself and then at phantom nothingness. “I dumped her. Because I said this was a double date with you guys and she said, well not really, and I said, no really. It’s a double date. Her and me and both of you. Double date. Except not her. Ever. Anymore. Because she had to go off about how it was wrong and made her uncomfortable and I ‘let both of you be alone with Christopher?’ And it couldn’t possibly be a date like me and her would go on a date because she’s a woman and I’m a man and that was normal. But you two are both men. Both muscular, powerful, masculine, manly firemen type men— so it could never be the same especially because neither one of you are flamey or girly or whatever, so it could never work, the two of you since neither one of you is ‘The Girl.’ Which is all bullshit. By the way. Obviously. And,” he finally stops and breathes, and there’s a hard swallow in his throat and his eyes are distant and his whole body is strung tight and if he could breathe fire? He probably would. Holy shit, he’s pissed off. Buck isn’t even sure he’s ever seen Eddie this angry at anyone who hasn’t hurt someone he loves.

Although. Technically she did? Not hurt per se, Buck doesn’t give a shit about what she thinks of him. But she was insulting them. So. Yeah, okay, of course fiercely protective Eddie would be angry.

“And anyway,” Eddie says, still never quite looking at Buck or even at Tommy. Never quite focusing on them. “That’s how I’m single and back on the market again.” He smiles a wide, bitter, snarky kind of smile, and steals the half-full beer glass in front of Buck and downs it in one gulp.

(Read on AO3)

#buddie #bucktommy #jenwyn wip #buddie wip #almost done with the whole thing should be up in the next day or so #911 abc #fic: test drive

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fallinforerling · 1 year

Note

mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen.

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news!

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care.

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks.

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you.

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg.

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.”

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind.

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands.

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him.

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden?

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.”

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.”

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face.

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth.

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong.

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on.

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well.

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing.

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.”

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…”

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.”

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck.

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore.

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat.

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him.

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down.

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep.

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

#jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude #jb22 #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #mimi answers #footballer fic #football fic #footballer fanfiction #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer fluff

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hard-core-super-star · 5 months

Text

make you mine this season [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x barton!reader

summary: a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

warnings: none, i think? just really cheesy, holiday rom-com type of fluff [i say this as if i've watched any holiday rom-com besides happiest season and the holiday 😶]; kate's a dork [wow, what a shock]; idiots in love; past mentions of bishova; bad jokes?; snowstorm; cheesy gifts bc kate can't talk about her feelings

wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: HI, EVERYONE, I'M ALIVE! and it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it WASN'T posted a little late 😅 i hope you all had a fantastic holiday season and that you'll accept this very cheesy Christmas fic <3 [and maybe that last line is very self-indulgent but that's none of your business, if you know you know]

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to loneliness but things were bordering on ridiculous. Not only have you spent the past two years ridiculously in love with a certain purple-loving archer, you’re also on the verge of spending Christmas by yourself thanks to the worst-timed snowstorm of all time.

And maybe the first part of your unfortunate situation is your fault but that doesn’t stop the waves of disappointment from crashing into you.

This year was supposed to be different.

That’s what you had told yourself in an effort to convince yourself to tell the young archer about your feelings for her. It was a strategy that almost worked…until a certain blonde decided to accept Kate’s offer for drinks…which turned into a date…which turned into a second date…which turned into the longest four months of your life.

You could never be one to be mad at someone else’s happiness but that didn’t stop you from feeling absolutely defeated every time you saw them together. There was no one to blame except you for the brunette’s lack of knowledge about your feelings and that only made everything worse.

It was impossible to ignore the ache in your chest when your eyes met Kate’s or the heavy jealousy that clouded most of your interactions with her. Maybe if you had been less into your head about the whole thing, you would have realized the way the archer’s smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

Eyes that followed you every time you walked away.

You never noticed the traces of darkness that clung to her usually radiant persona but you were the first person at her side when the break up happened. She offered little to no details besides an awkward joke about the relationship ending almost exactly where it started right at the Rockefeller tree.

It was messed up in a way that made Kate want to make as many jokes about it as possible which resulted in you laughing at things that definitely weren’t funny and were just sad. Not as sad as spending the holidays completely alone and hopelessly in love with your best friend, though.

You were sure the archer was already well on her way to your dad’s farm which leaves you completely unprepared when the door to your apartment swings open to reveal her. She almost drops the key in her hand the second she realizes you’re home.

“What’re you doing here?” You question, doing your best to pretend you don’t see the gift bags she tries to hide behind her back.

You can practically see the wheels turning in her head before she’s finally able to respond. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Clint’s?”

It’s hard not to laugh at the incredulous look on her face. No matter how many times you see it, it’s still as endearing as the first time. Back when she was just your dad’s protege and you hadn’t spent so many of your days learning the ins and outs of her complicated personality.

“Did the incoming snowstorm happen to slip your mind?”

“No, I just thought you’d want to go anyway,” she replies with a small shrug.

“I’d rather not crash, Lila will never let me hear the end of it.”

Your words make her tilt her head to the side, the slightest hint of a pout on her face. “So…what, you’re just going to spend Christmas alone?”

“Yup. Kate, I’m not a kid anymore, nothing will happen if I spend one day by myself.”

“But it’s Christmas!” She exclaims, looking borderline offended that you’re so comfortable spending the holiday alone.

“Is that why you’re breaking into my apartment?” You ask in a foolish attempt to stop yourself from asking her to spend the day with you.

Just because she thought about you long enough to come drop off her, no doubt ridiculously expensive, gifts for you does not mean she wants to spend the holiday with you when she could easily spend it with anyone else.

The pink hue that overtakes her cheeks is a better gift than anything that could be inside the bags in her hand. “Well, uh…maybe…”

She finally gathers enough courage to get rid of the distance between you with a bright, albeit nervous, smile on her face. You half-expect her to launch into some long ramble about why she just couldn’t stop herself from buying an insane amount of gifts for you this year but she doesn’t.

For once in her life, Kate Bishop makes things easy for herself.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it to the farm on time so I was just going to drop these off for you…” She holds out the bag for you and you do your best to calm the rapid beating of your heart as you take it.

“Can I open it right now or will you get embarrassed?”

“Both,” she replies through a chuckle. “I would leave but I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Right, because I’m the one who gets lonely.”

“Shut up.”

It’s both a blessing and a curse to have broken through the archer’s defenses and right now, her cute reactions are beginning to feel like a curse. Although, that might just be your unrequited feelings talking.

A slightly awkward silence settles over both of you while you rifle through the overwhelming amount of purple tissue paper until you find your gift. You’re expecting another expensive necklace, maybe a bracelet this time, but what you’re met with is the most thoughtful gift you’ve ever received…and probably the most thoughtful gift Kate has ever given.

What you end up pulling out of the bag is a leather journal with a beautiful engraving of yours and Kate’s initials. “Kate…is this-”

“Yeah, I, um…I couldn’t find a photo album that I liked so I sort of…made my own.”

You can’t stop yourself from flipping through the first couple of pages, caught somewhere between the euphoria of being given something so beautiful and the disappointment that comes with knowing it all only serves to fuel your love for the archer.

Love you can’t express the way you want to.

Love that’s hidden between the pages of the journal you hold in your hands.

You don’t notice and Kate isn’t really in a hurry to watch you read the series of rambles that make up her overdue confession so she lets the moment fade like she always has. It’s not like you can blame her for wanting to move on to something else, her lack of focus isn’t necessarily a secret, and you let yourself get carried away by her jokes and her stubborn need to make mac and cheese for you.

The archer manages to cook without setting your kitchen on fire and the two of you settle on your couch to watch the first cheesy Christmas movie you find. In all honesty…the movie is awful but the corny jokes make Kate laugh so you can’t find it in yourself to be too grumpy about the shitty writing.

Until the scene in front of you reminds you of the archer and her ex. You’re unable to hold back the jealousy-tinted snarkiness said reminder brings out of you. “I think Yelena watched this movie and then decided to be a dick just like the main character.”

Kate instantly turns toward you, staring at you with wide eyes that barely hide her amusement. “What?”

“What?” You feign confusion to avoid having to repeat yourself.

“You know what,” she replies with an eyeroll. “If I’m the one who got broken up with, why are you the one that’s still upset?”

“Because- wait, why are you not upset?”

Your uno-reverse of a response leaves Kate speechless for a few seconds and you prepare yourself for the series of jokes that will no doubt leave her mouth next.

But Kate’s never been predictable.

“Because…she didn’t break my heart. She didn’t even own it in the first place.”

Her words spark the low flames of hope hidden in the depths of your heart. It feels impossible and if you were a believer, you might even say Santa’s on your side, helping to give you the one thing you’ve wished for more nights than you can count.

And yet you hesitate.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your voice so soft it borders on cautious.

“That I’m an idiot,” she replies with that same bright smile that made you fall for her so long ago. “And…I’d really like to kiss you.”

The world seems to slow down to a complete stop at that moment.

You almost don’t even know what to do with yourself. Thankfully, you manage to kick yourself into action before the moment passes.

Kate’s awkwardness seems to disappear into thin air as she leans in toward you, meeting you halfway for the softest, sweetest, kiss you’ve ever had. And maybe nothing about it is perfect but it’s you and her and that’s all that matters for now.

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