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onlyhuis · 1 month

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late night talking

member — minghao x f reader genre — angst, idk if there's enough fluff for this to count as hurt/comfort but the ending is sort of happy ? word count — 2.1k synopsis — the best and worst conversations always happen at 1am. warnings — reader is very drunk and very very insecure, lots of crying, lots of internal back & forth, unreliable narrator moment, refers to reader as girlfriend/my girl/etc., idk if i'm missing anything else but lmk if i am notes — this is an old fic that i never really intended to be released but @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions convinced me otherwise. sorry this is not at all what i normally post lmao i swear don't write like this often i just found this in my drive that i wrote when i was in a very shitty mood. we will return to your regularly scheduled smut programming soon i promise lmao! leave a comment in the reblogs or send an ask if you enjoyed this? idk i am nervous to post this pls don't perceive me too much

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you're ugly when you're drunk.

“hao?”

your voice rings throughout the house, the sound shaky and quieter than usual.

he wouldn't even have known you were home if he hadn't heard your friend's car pull up minutes ago, bright headlights flashing through the bedroom window. he wouldn't have known, if he wasn't already worried sick at you being gone so long and consuming an unknown amount of alcohol. he should've been there with you, but too much was riding on the deadline for his students’ grades that had to be finished before midnight. any other day he would've been by your side the whole night, a steady hand on your arm for balance and a sharp eye on your glass just in case. he loves playing the role of protective boyfriend, letting his girl do whatever she wants because he'll always be there to watch over her. but he couldn't do that tonight, and it tears him up inside.

he hears your trudging footsteps down the hall, soft footfalls signalling your approach as you drag yourself towards the room. he pretends not to hear; he doesn't want to make a big deal out of this and embarrass you.

“you're home early,” he comments with a chuckle, but his sarcasm is lost on you in this state. it's well after 1 in the morning, and you tilt your head in confusion at his words, brows deeply furrowed.

“what— are you working on?” you ask after a moment, focusing all your energy on not stumbling over your words.

you know how drunk you are, he knows how drunk you are, but even now you're still putting on an act. you hate feeling stupid in front of him, and right now you couldn't feel any stupider. the worst part is that you feel as stupid when you're sober as you do right now, but you couldn't tell him that.

he pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he surveys your current state. he can't risk hurting your feelings, especially in such a vulnerable headspace.

“grading finals,” he decides on. not too detailed to confuse you, not too simplified to make you feel stupid, just enough to make you feel involved.

distantly you feel your eyes welling up with tears. you don't know why, but at the same time you know exactly why. you're never good enough compared to him, not when you come home drunk in the dead of night, and he never does. not when he's so good at everything he touches, so talented and beautiful and perfect, and you're… not.

he deserves someone at his level, an artistic genius like him who can help him with his work. someone with an eye for his paintings, someone smarter, someone prettier, someone who can keep him on his toes. someone who won't drag him down and burden him with your obvious lack of skill and your quality of being so embarrassingly lightweight that you need to be supervised at all times.

“i’m sorry,” you finally muster. you can't find the words to explain what you mean, but you hope he's able to sense your sincerity.

“what for?” he asks. his voice is softer now.

you hate it when he uses that voice. he's talking down to you, talking like you're a child and he has to explain everything to you in the gentlest way possible because you aren't capable of handling the truth.

you love when he uses that voice. sometimes he can be so blunt it almost feels isolating, but when he talks to you like you're a child in that sweet, gentle, kind tone you feel like everything will be okay. he can soften himself for you, drop his straightforward persona around you and be the tender man you know he's capable of being.

you lift your eyes to his computer screen and the feelings you've been struggling with float back into view. “i'm sorry,” you repeat, voice cracking despite the effort you put in to stop it from breaking. it's all you can say.

you don't notice when the tears overflow, bursting from your eyes without a sound. you're embarrassing, you're an idiot, standing in front of him with red eyes and hunched shoulders as tears stream down your cheeks. you don't even feel them fall.

if he knows what you're trying to convey with your tearful apologies, he doesn't mention it.

of course he knows, how could he not when he's so astute with everything? you suck at keeping things to yourself.

of course he doesn't know, why would he take the time out of his busy schedule to care about how you're feeling? you're not worth his energy.

the moment seems to stretch on for eternity, standing in front of him. you don't know why you started dating in the first place; he doesn't have the time, you're too annoying, too clingy, too affectionate. standing in front of him, you don't feel anything. you just feel cold.

you turn to drag yourself out of the room, deciding that you've embarrassed yourself enough by now. you don't know where you'll go or what you're doing, probably to pour yourself a glass of water and try to sleep on the couch. obviously he won't want you to sleep in his bed when you’re like this, why should he? you aren’t deserving of that privilege.

but then you feel a warm hand on your wrist, gently tugging you back towards him. you lose your balance, stumble over your feet, fall onto his lap. you're mortified, barely able to get another “sorry” out before trying to stand again on wobbly legs. you shouldn't be here. you're so aware, so painfully conscious of your weight on him, every ounce of energy you have left fighting to keep yourself from annoying him even further but it feels like it's too late. everything that comes from you is too little, too late.

“no,” he says. his tone is still that soft, sweet sound, but his voice is firm and you don't try to get up again. “we can talk tomorrow,” he says as he begins to run his hand along your back, and you hate yourself for the way you instantly melt at his touch. “just… relax. calm down.”

your body slouches against his chest, feeling like a puddle on his lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck whether you meant to or not. your legs dangle limply off his lap, arms wrapped loosely around the back of his chair as he holds you.

“it's okay,” he says simply, still stroking his hand along your back in small, soothing motions. “it's okay.” he repeats the words, maybe to convince himself but mostly to convince you from having a breakdown. even now when he's treating you so delicately, your brain won't let you rest: he's probably scared of you, he doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean any of it and he's using whatever means necessary to stop you from turning hysterical or even violent. of course it doesn't mean anything to him.

“how much did you drink tonight, baby?” he asks, and you know you should take that as judgmental but you don't have the energy left anymore. you don't note the twinge of concern in his voice, you can't see the look in his eyes as he gazes down at you.

“a little— a lot,” you answer, somewhat truthfully. the real truth is that you lost count. you weren't trying to get drunk, but one turned into two turned into ten and before you even knew what you were doing a car was dropping you off in front of your house.

he shifts his legs for you to sit more comfortably on his lap, and as much as you want to fight it you don't have the strength to. “do you want to go to bed?” he asks gently. “or do you want to stay up with me?”

“don't… want you to go to bed ‘cuz of me,” you mumble against his neck. god, his skin is so soft and warm. you couldn't move your body right now even if you tried. “not your fault.”

“what kind of guy would i be if i didn't take care of my girlfriend when she needs me?” he asks. “i can put you to bed if you want. it's alright. it's late anyway.”

“it's not– your job,” you manage to reply, and his hand on your back stops for a second.

“it is my job,” he says softly. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i'm sorry if you feel like i haven't done that.”

“please, don't— no sorry,” you choke out as fresh tears prick at your eyes. “it's my fault. i'm sorry. it's my fault.”

he holds you tighter, both arms wrapped around you on his lap now. “it's not your fault,” he says in that same firm but gentle voice. “you haven't done anything wrong at all. it's alright, baby, i promise. you don't have anything to worry about. why are you sorry?”

“i don't know,” you mumble. your hand clutches at his chest unconsciously, balling his t-shirt in your fist. “i dunno. i love you. i dunno.”

“i love you, too,” he says after a beat. the tears, the drunken outburst, he just lets it all happen. without a word of complaint. despite the voices in your head fighting to convince you otherwise, he never says a single negative thing to you.

you know he's not normally like this. with everyone else he's polite, unemotional, reserved. he's never vulnerable. which is why you're so confused right now.

“why?” you slur, still grasping onto hope.

he hums in questioning, nudging you to elaborate.

“why are you like this to me?”

but now he's the one who's confused. “like what?”

you pause, and the room goes quiet for a moment, the only sound your shallow breaths against his chest. “nice.”

for all his knowledge, this time he's actually lost. “why would i not be nice to you?”

“i don't deserve it.”

he shifts again, pulling you closer to his chest as he starts to run his fingers through his hair. “of course you do, baby.”

“you don't deserve me.”

he stops again, this time in shock. “hey. that's not true.”

“is too true,” you say. your eyes are closed and you can't help the frown overtaking your face. “you should have somebody you deserve. it's not me.”

he just sighs, and you feel his chest expand beneath your cheek at the deep breath he takes. “i love you, baby. not anyone else. you'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk then. but i'm not mad at you, okay? there's nothing wrong. everything's okay.”

you try to mimic his sigh, but the angle you're laying at on his chest and the alcohol in your system makes it hard to breathe deeply.

“do you want to keep sitting with me?” he asks. he knows how much you like the sounds his keyboard makes, the quiet tapping as he enters grades and types comments to his students about things you could never fathom to understand.

your eyes stay closed and your head doesn't move. “yeah,” you murmur softly.

he settles back into his chair, you curled up on his lap. he's not doing much, he's finished the worst of it and now just entering numbers. he glances down at your figure, almost asleep on him, and he feels an ache in his chest.

every emotion feels amplified to you right now, but if it took getting blackout drunk for you to finally say it then it must've been weighing on you for a long time coming. he wonders how long you've felt like this, felt inadequate compared to him, and it makes him pause. it was never his intention. when you're awake and sober and hopefully not massively hungover, then you can talk, and he can make this right.

he loves the person snuggled against his chest, loves the feeling of you comforted and protected by him, and he'll do anything to make sure you know that. he'll do anything to let you see yourself the way he sees you. above all the worries he has about you, he knows one thing for sure.

you're cute when you're drunk.

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 2 months

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Valentine's Day...Gifts They Give You?? I Think. IDK.

HAH SCHOOL CAN KICK MY BUTT BUT BY GOD AND THE DEVIL WILL I SHARE A LITTLE BIT OF LOVE!! (I'm suffering Jesus fucking CHRIST this course is gonna eat my fried up brain for breakfast lunch and dinner) This is done assuming they're pining for Yuu, save for Ortho he's Idia's little wingman. GN reader as always bbssssssssss if anything seems canon divergent, check out my HCs lmao

Heartslaybul Ace: He thought about making it super romantic, like he spent the week leading up to Valentine's day brainstorming ideas on napkins and doodling on scrap paper, trying to come up with a way to ask to hang out that would make it feel different than normal, but not so obvious that he...you know, likes you. He ends up showing up at Ramshackle before class with a box of chocolates he bought the day before and a bit of a blushing mess. "I just got these because who knows how much Sam will have by the end of today, you owe me half, ok?"

Deuce: He absolutely called his mom to ask for some advice, and asked his dorm mom (Trey), to proofread the hand written note he had meticulously written and supervise while he tries to make a heartshaped quiche. Why quiche? Well he knows you guys have...Memories about eggs, and he remembers it fondly, and he knows that quiche freezes well, so if he makes a big batch, you can eat what you want and have a readily available breakfast to just pop back in the oven whenever you want it - hopefully you'll remember him each time you do, and you'll ask for more when you finish it! He ends up at Ramshackle a little disheveled and out of breath, trying to make the quiche early enough in the day that he could make it there before breakfast so maybe you could share a meal before class. "It's still warm??" "Yeah, I ran here as fast as I could once it was cool enough to handle." "You didn't have to..." "I wanted to! You're more than worth the effort it took to be here on time." Trey: Mans has a major advantage in that he is great in the kitchen, but he can't just make your favourite dessert. He can do that any day. No, for weeks ahead of time, he plans, makes, tests, and revises a new recipe, something that is unique and meant to be for you. It's more effort than he normally puts into his work, but it's so worth it when he shows up at Ramshackle in the evening to deliver his gift and a small note, though he gets shy. He leaves it on the front door step, knocks once, and moves to hide by the side of the house, relying on Grim's nose to bring you to the door if you didn't hear him knock. Seeing the way your face go from confusion to joy and excitement as you read the note is worth every moment he spent crouching. He knows tomorrow you'll want to talk to him in person, but for now, that's more than enough for him.

Cater: Consumerism Capital lmao. He has a really sweet, genuine gift to give to you, but the time he's spent with his sisters makes him second guess whether or not something is "good enough". So, yes, he will have spent 72 hours painting a fucking masterpiece on a phone case for you, or a pair of shoes you said you wanted, or a skateboard so you guys can skateboard together, or something you mentioned you wanted offhandedly months ago, but he's not sure if it's enough, so to "make up" for his "shitty handmade gift", he buys a shit ton of Valentine's day merchandise! He shows up with the giant teddy bear, the bouquet of flowers, the chocolates, the sappy movies, a trending perfume and some sort of specialty drink he picked up at a cafe. Depending on your reaction to all that stuff, he might actually give you the gift he worked on, otherwise you'll see it by accident or something and he gets embarrassed and a little flustered because What If You Don't Like It, Isn't Everything Else Better Than That Thing I Worked On Specifically For You. Treat him gently please. That's a personal request slkdjfhlskdjf

Riddle: He's new to this. So of course he researched long and hard on how to best express his interest in you without trying to push anything on you. Cater tried to show him cute stuff on social media, but it all seemed so scripted, disingenuous, or so over the top he couldn't see himself doing it that way. Or on the other end - they were couples, well into their relationships and living together- that wasn't where he was with you, at least....not yet. He ends up watching, reading and listening to tutorials on how to put together the perfect bouquet - his beloved rose garden would have more than an aesthetic use now, and with a little magic, a beautiful gradient came easily to the bunch of roses he arranged beautifully. Before you, this holiday just seemed ridiculous. Maybe it still was, but he would indulge if it meant it brought a smile to your face.

Savannaclaw

Jack: He can't be direct for the life of him, not in terms like this. The night before Valentine's day, he's still stumped on what to do for you that won't be...inherently romantic and obvious, but show that he cares about you!! His eyes end up settling on his little cactus and he ends up finally getting an idea. Somehow after class, but before you got home, he managed to gift you your own tiny cactus. He left it sitting in a box, a small knitted coaster of sorts sitting underneath the flower pot - he put it in the box just so that the yarn wouldn't snag on the uneven wood outside of Ramshackle- and a tiny cowboy hat sitting on top of your cactus. It had been from one of his little siblings dolls that ended up in his bag from the last time he'd gone home, but either they didn't even notice it was gone, or he could get them a replacement later.

Ruggie: "Do you have plans for Valentine's day?" "Yep. Wait for it to be over." He doesn't really care for Valentine's day, but the sale that starts on the 15th? Goddamn, yeah, he's gonna capitalize on that....and he might even like you enough to share a little bit of it...maybe while watching a movie....and snuggling up under the same blanket at Ramshackle...that he may or may not have snagged from Leona's pile of Really Nice blankets....all it takes is for you to say you want some chocolate or treats too.

Leona: He really doesn't care for Valentine's day and all the shit that comes with it, but his sister in law asked him to at least try to make the best of the day. Initially, he was going to...at least try to contest it, but ultimately decided there was a simple way to do it. He ends up firing you a quick text to meet him in the greenhouse. While the way he pulls you into his little nest for napping is rather unceremonious, once you've settled he tucks a pink camellia behind your ear before abruptly telling you he's going to sleep and you're welcome to join him or you can get out of there if you want. He hopes, that just maybe, you'll be able to identify the flower he gave you and find out what it means.

Octavinelle

Floyd: Azul is making him work overtime for Valentine's day, he doesn't get up early enough to do anything Before classes, and by the end of his shift he's EXHAUSTED and MAD. He likely has the wherewithall to bring you a serving from the special menu in a takeout container before flopping down on the couch next to you, then onto you, just looking for a little bit of physical affection. The next day he does feel a little bad for not making you feel as special as he could have, so he'll wake you up with breakfast in bed. Jade: Again, he's been working overtime but he was more ready for Valentine's day than Floyd. While he can't take you anywhere on the day of, he has an easy hike and picnic planned for the weekend if you'll join him. Despite being in the wild outdoors, he's determined to make you a dish that would be worthy of serving at the lounge. He will not handle being asked to stay home very well, but ultimately will if you want that more....but it's going to be in your backyard.

Azul: He had so much on his plate leading up to Valentine's day with marketing, organizing shifts and maximizing profit. But, some of that profit was already planned to be set aside specifically for you. It was about time that you got a bit of a leg up, right? I mean working for Crowley can only pay so much, and he's the head of the dorm that represents generosity anyways. So on the day after Valentine's day, he shows up in the evening with a laptop, and envelope with cash, and a grin, ready to show you the wonders of ✨investing✨. He may have forgotten you still...want to go home. He'll backtrack a bit and offer to help you find contractors that will renovate a part of Ramshackle for you.

Scarabia

Jamil: He didn't even bother trying to plan something for himself with you. How could he? It was a holiday, as ridiculous as it was, it meant that Kalim would inevitably want to celebrate it on the dorm level, and Jamil, of course, would have to plan and organize and arrange everything in order to make it work out. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't make sure to invite you. It didn't mean that he wouldn't make the time to ensure your favourite dish was served. Or that your favourite song would come on during the dance party portion of the celebration. Or that he wouldn't check on you just as, if not more frequently than he did on Kalim to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if you're not, if it's all too much, he accounted for that already and will show you where you can stay until you feel okay again. Of course, if you show up an hour or two early and demand (you can't ask, he'll say no) to be given a task to lighten his burden, he might just admire you a little bit more (even if he still says no).

Kalim: Valentine's Day means partayyyyy time!! There's gonna be food, and dancing, and games, and lots of people, and live music because he, Cater, and Lilia are gonna perform, won't you come see him?? He needs you there so he can perform the best he ever has!! Come on Yuu, please??? They did actually practice, because they had to change a few lyrics so that it could be a better cover for Valentine's day and he was thinking of you when they modified it, so can you pleeeeeeeease come?

Pomefiore

Epel: He isn't sure whether he wants to continue a tradition he had from home or not, where he would show up at school with handmade lollipops and give them out to people....but his class at primary school was soooo much smaller, it wouldn't make sense to do it here for everyone. Not to mention, he usually had his grandma help him make them, he's never done it on his own. He likely does it for all the first years in his little friend group because he doesn't want to be obvious to anyone person that maybe...he likes them a little more...however your lollipop is the only one that seems to have no imperfections. Funny how that worked out.

Rook: Screw your alarm clock, he knows when you wake up anyways and will be outside your window, serenading you until you wake up. Even if you end up rolling out of bed lookin like a sewer rat and peaking out the window, once he knows you're awake he'll start reading poetry to you. He kinda just lingers until you're done getting ready enough to come great him outside, where he gives you a single rose and a few sheets of paper that he's written his poems about you on. He'll kiss the back of your hand and offer to escort you to class. ** I just want to say, for as much as I gripe about Rook in other posts, I genuinely believe that if he knew or found out you had no Valentine, no plans, and nobody treated you, he would, by the end of the day, at least have left a rose and handwritten note on in front of your door apologizing for not having asked to be your Valentine earlier and going through and complimenting you, though the note is completely anonymous. Rook is a bleeding heart (hehe Snow White ref) and regardless of his feelings for you/your feelings for him, he wants to make sure Valentine's day is positive for you.

Vil: Ugh, Valentine's day. It's a tacky, meaningless holiday that corporations push for the sake of profit. He agrees to model stuff still, sure, he has to in order to try and keep up with Neige, but he hates it. He gets his nails done so that they are jet black. Part of him wants to go goth for the day, but really that would be an overreaction to something so minor. He rejects any Valentine's day gifts, and likely won't want to do anything special, so if anything, you get to see a slightly out of character Vil as he either facetimes you to make sure you've been drinking water today and rant about the industry and how it's ruined Valentine's day, or. You send him a really cheesy gif wishing him a happy Valentines day and he very reluctantly replies, but tells you to never do that again (and it segues into Above).

Ignihyde

Idia (+ wingman/little shit Ortho): Ortho didn't really intend to snoop, but his big brother just left his phone out in the open...well he threw it onto his bed and mumbled something about being a loser. According to Ortho's analysis of Idia's phone, he hadn't been on a mobile game, so what got him so worked up? He sifted through until he found the culprit- the draft of a really sweet...and yeah, kinda cringey message he had written out addressed to the prefect of Ramshackle. Eugh he didn't need to read that...but...but Yuu should. He sends the message for Idia right before his brother comes back into the room, mumbling about how he needs to delete something. His eyes go wide as saucers as he sees not only has the message been sent, but the prefect has read it and is replying in that very moment. Idia reprimands Ortho immediately, but gently until the Prefects response comes through and Ortho confirms the tone is positive. Diasomnia lord help me it's one in the morning

Sebek: Wasn't going to do anything until Lilia mentioned...."exaggerated"...just how important Valentine's Day can be to humans. His decision to try and come up with a last minute gift only amplifies if he sees someone else give Yuu a gift, and ultimately decides with a certain degree of defeat just to buy something from Sam's shop. He decides something practical is best, but gets a little distracted around the candles. Surely in Ramshackle you would appreciate something small, aromatic and it even offers a small bit of heat! He decides to go through with it, but it's only noon, surely he can customize it a bit more before the end of the day. Lilia ends up walking into Sebek's room at around 10:30, only to see him struggling to stay awake as he wipes off paint from the lid. Based on the discarded tissues around, he hasn't been satisfied with any customizations he's tried to make. Lilia gently encourages him just to write a quick note, and he'll deliver it to the prefects doorstep for him so he can get to sleep. Sebek insists it's not perfect, but is forced to accept defeat as Lilia ushers him to bed, reassuring him that the prefect will still appreciate it.

Silver: He knows that he struggles to stay awake, so he starts on his project long before Valentine's day so that he can work on it whenever he has the wherewithall to do so. Come Valentine's day, he has the gift with him during class, and ends up sitting outside of Ramshackle, passed out next to the door waiting for you to show up so he can hand you his gift, which turns out to be a dagger. No, he didn't make it, but he wanted to research the best option for someone of your size and stature, the quality, where to purchase it reliably, to make a small write up on how to care for it properly, what it can and should be used for, and activities it's not suggested to use it for, but you technically "can". It also gives him an excuse to come see you more often to teach you how to use it- often teaching someone is a great way to learn and will add another layer to his training. Lilia: He's been around for so many Valentine's Days, he probably knew the fucking saint it was named after. That being said, he loves to make the most of life, and that doesn't stop here! Get ready for a home cooked meal, you don't have to worry about dinner tonight sweetheart, Lilia's got it covered. Or he'll pay for take out. Or both, to make up for the mess in your kitchen.

Malleus: He's been aware of the holiday for years, but has never really had a reason to celebrate it. But now there's someone who isn't scared of him. Someone who, perhaps if he asked, you would allow him to spend time with you. He ends up daydreaming about the activities the two of you could do together, from making gargoyles to learning to make ice cream together, he ends up spending the entire day like that. Though he's a bit frustrated at his loss of time, he writes out a heartfelt letter to invite you to join him in those activities at a later date. He'll either wait for you outside, or if its too late in the night, simply slide the letter under your door.

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I was gonna do Che'nya and Neige and even Rollo but its. its way too late, I'm hungry and I have a STATS class tomorrow RIP me.

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my-soupy-brain · 3 months

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just had the WORST day so naturally i'm thinking about it causing reader to blow up/be jealous over ted and making up after, if you feel like writing it

Oh no! I'm sorry you had a rough day. I could see this. We all get snappy when we have a rough go, right? Ted would understand -- and find the jealousy endearing a bit. So let's gooo!

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Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (f)

Warnings: Angst, making up, light smut

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You and Ted trudged out of the house after a rough day, to see Sam's restaurant opening.

Like a father figure, Ted was proud of Sam. He put so much work into his restaurant, business, and heritage cuisine, and he couldn't wait to support it.

You were excited too, but your day had beat you up mentally and your mood was anything but delightful. Regardless, you dressed up and pushed it aside to see the Richmond family and enjoy a night out with Ted.

The two of you were greeted with hugs. Ted and Beard chatted, and Keeley and Rebecca peeled you off to catch up.

Rebecca ordered a drink, and one for you. To your relief. You just wanted to relax.

"What's wrong, babes?" Keeley asked, noticing your face painted with worry and exhaustion.

"Just a rough day at work. I'm trying to unwind, and I didn't have much chance by the time Ted got home and we came here."

"I'm so sorry, that's hard. Well, let's do our best to enjoy the night, yes? A mini girl's night."

You smiled and took a drink, and then froze when Sassy walked in the door. She headed directly toward Rebecca and waved at Ted in the process with a flirty flick of her wrist.

"Hi girls, what's our poison tonight?" Sassy asked, reaching for a shot glass from a tray.

"The Marlboro man is looking good tonight, might need a snack on that later, yeah?" she added with a big smile, making Rebecca and Keeley's eyes go wide.

She clearly doesn't know you're together.

"Hey there, Sassy Smurf," Ted says, wandering over to your little circle. Sassy flashes a brilliant smile.

"Marlboro man, as I live and breathe," she answers, her hand running down his chest. You can see him hitch at this, unsure how to move the conversation along.

Ted's eyes ping-pong to you. And you try to stifle a deep breath of anger.

Ted slowly moves her hand off his chest and smiles amicably

"What's new in Sassy's world?"

Sassy starts talking and chattering away. Your stomach is still in knots at her boldness. Ted didn't even stop to tell her you're together.

Your anger moves from Sassy to Ted, who's still joking and jovial with her, and she keeps putting her hand on his arm. And he doesn't do anything about it.

He has to know what she's doing. He has to.

As Ted and Sassy seem to drift away from the rest of the group, Rebecca leans in. "Don't worry about her, y/n. Ted won't let anything happen. He's just nice, you know how he is..."

You could crush your champagne glass in your hand right now.

Sassy says something that makes Ted laugh, and your stomach churns in jealousy. Then his eyes go wide, he shakes his head. Sassy protests. Ted apologizes, his hand on her arm.

What is happening over there?

As you turn to order another drink, Sassy sidles up beside you.

"Well, damn. Thanks for taking the Marlboro man off the market," she jokes, flashing you a toothy smile.

"I'm... yeah..." you can't speak, you're so... hurt? Offended?

Feeling absolutely abysmal.

"Hope I broke him in enough for ya," Sassy jokes, downing a shot and walking away.

Tears prick your eyes. Beside feeling tired, now you feel... shitty. Shitty about yourself. Shitty about your relationship. Shitty about this night. It's getting hot in here. It feels like it's too loud.

Outside. Get outside.

You make your way to the door to take a breath of fresh, crisp air. Inside, you see the girls having fun. Ted approaches the group, confused. He must be asking where you are.

"Darlin'?" Ted asks, stepping off the front stoop of the restaurant.

When he finds you leaning against the wall, your face wet with tears, he worries.

"Hey, hey... are you okay?" he asks hushed, quiet, approaching gently.

Your eyes narrow as you glare at him.

"Why didn't you tell Sassy we're together?"

Ted's eyes bunch. "What?"

"When Sassy waltzed in, she was flirting so hard with you, you could cut the tension with a knife. And you didn't tell her we were together."

Ted stutters.

"I... I don't know, I was..."

"Don't lie, Ted. You were just keeping her on the hook. God, why didn't I see it. Of course, you can't let Sassy go! What man could?!"

Ted watches you with his mouth agape, he's not really sure what to tackle first to calm you down, bring you back to earth.

"I don't know why I thought this would work. Why I thought you'd be different than everyone else. You may as well just let me go. I may as well go pick up my stuff from your flat and just..."

Ted steps toward you, pulling your wrist and bringing you into his chest, where he wraps his arms around you.

"I don't know why you didn't say anything to her..."

Ted soothes you, running his hand down your head, down your back, gently and softly.

"I did," he answers. "Rebecca did. We all did. She knew. Sassy's just...Sassy."

You protest. "What does that mean?!"

Ted smiles. "It means she's a rascal. She likes to play around. Flirt. But I wasn't bitin' on it. And I told her...that I'm in love with you."

You pull back and look into his deep eyes, yours watery and red.

"You told her what?"

"I told her I'm in love with you."

Love. Love. Love. He hasn't said that yet. You hadn't said that yet.

Your lip trembles. Ted smiles, leaning in to kiss them gently.

"I love you," he says quietly, brushing hair over your ear.

"I...I..." you stammer. "I love you, too."

Ted smiles, cupping your cheek and kissing you. You both breathe hard and heavy, his other hand holding your lower back. The kiss deepens, his tongue running against yours.

He looks at you and smiles.

"How could I be in love with anyone else? How could I want anyone else when I found the best there is?"

You smile. Your heart pounds.

"No, no. I'm not goin' nowhere, not without you, sugar," Ted says, bringing his lips back to you.

The night's getting cooler. The party is still going on, but Ted reads your mind.

"Should we go home? So I can show ya how much I love ya?" he asks, his hand drifting down your back, to your ass, giving it a little squeeze while his lips tickle your neck.

You can't do anything else but nod. "Uh-huh."

Ted hails a taxi back to his flat, and once inside, he scoops you into his arms, tugging your clothes off while you tug his off, backing up into his bedroom, crawling over you, kissing you all over, smiling with you, making love the way he loves to and the way you love to.

He likes to go slow when he knows you've been in a rough place. Your body is tired from a long week at work. Your brain aches from the rollercoaster of emotions.

He holds your hand, kissing your knuckles.

He kisses you, kisses your neck.

He waits until your breath changes just right, the way your body trembles, the way you gently scratch his back... and he knows...

"Yeah, sugar," he murmurs to your ear. "Make ya feel real good..."

His husky drawl, that low voice against you, the way he moans into your skin...

"Beautiful, so beautiful," he rambles. "My girl, my good girl..."

When you kiss him and tell him you love him, his heart could burst. He kisses you again, his hips gaining speed...your legs wrapped around him...

And when you both reach ecstasy, well...

There's nothing better. Not to him. Not to you.

Sure, Sassy was a fun distraction after the hiccups with Michelle. But nothing, no one, compares to being in love with you.

The way you cuddle and burrow against his broad chest in bed when you're done. The way your hands feel on his skin. The way you fit perfectly wrapped against him.

No.

No one could take your place. You're all he wants, all he needs.

---

I'm in the feels today apparently! That got very romantic. Good prompt though. Love a little angst, a little self doubt, and a charming Ted Lasso to the rescue. Hope you're well, friend. Hope your day got better.

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x you #ted lasso angst

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cellard0ors · 4 months

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I've given this thought and while I'm kind of sick this Xmas Eve ('cause fuck my life) I'm STILL going to make a little naughty...

(cut for NSFW words/ideas - set in The Full Deck series)

Laura thought she hated Travis when he was the sheriff of North Kill.

But then she met Sheriff Malloy.

Malloy is in his late twenties and a complete dick.

He's entitled, he's egotistical, and he bends the law in ways Travis never would and yeah, okay, Travis covered murders and held people hostage, but he didn't outright discriminate and use his authority over people to get what he wanted.

For example, Malloy is the kinda guy who will intimidate a woman into going out for a drink with him - like, ohhhh, I pulled you over for speeding (they weren't), but if you go to Dixie's with me, well, I'll treat you to a Cosmo and we can forget all about it...

...a Cosmo? What year is this? The late nineties? Early two thousands via Sex and the City-gendered-womens-drink-bullshit?

Malloy wasn't even the deputy! He only got promoted to sheriff because his Daddy painted the right palms green. So. Malloy is the sheriff and Travis's boss and a total tool to boot.

He also makes these snide little comments about Laura being a golddigger or Travis a cradle robber and Laura is looking for ways to get back at him when she gets lucky.

...and so, ironically, does Travis.

Because Travis has some sniffles and is told to stay home and work from there and Laura, with the day off, manages to come across him while he's on a conference call.

Sure, he's on mute (right now) and Malloy is droning on and on while other officers and officials listen in, but that's not the point. No. The point is, muted or not, they're on camera.

And Travis's laptop camera is small. And shitty. And pointed directly at his face, making it perfectly easy for Laura to covertly sneak into where he is and then down low and quiet until she can ease around his legs, right between them, and (in fact) beneath his desk.

Travis almost jumps a mile high and hisses at her to go away and Malloy's voice comes across tinny, asking if something is wrong and Travis has to unmute to say no and lie and say that the cat just startled him even as Laura's fingers go for the fly of his jeans.

Travis mutes again so fast and gestures at her to stop and to go, all while appearing casual and unaffected, but Laura has the most evil grin in the world and he knows what this means, because it's her 'I'm getting my way no matter what' look and he's already hardening as she draws him out into the open air.

And he crosses his fingers for erectile dysfunction of all things to hit him and hit him now to save him from this, but no - oh, no - he's already raring to go, like a damn teenager the moment she gets those pretty little lips of hers wrapped around his length.

It doesn't help that she hums like he's the best, most delicious thing she's ever had in her mouth and she's sucking and licking at him like he's a melting popsicle and it's true he is melting and his hands are curled into hard fists and one is pressed against his mouth and he has his eyebrows knitted together like he's thinking hard but he's really not thinking at all as Laura bobs her head smoothly up and down a couple of times.

She's looking up at him - blue eyes glassy and gorgeous and it's a very 'what's wrong, Travis?' teasing look and the hand that's out of sight from the camera, the one balled as a fist on one of his thighs goes to her loose golden hair.

His thick fingers plough through the silky masses, tugs and pulls, until he forms it into a rough, makeshift ponytail, the back of his knuckles scraping her scalp as he starts encouraging her, because his willpower is zip, and he can't fight the strong ocean tides of Laura Kearney.

She openly moans around him now and he's glad he has that one fist to his mouth and that the mute button is on as he groans and his balls pulse and if this baby girl doesn't draw off of his dick soon...

...and he's never ever thought of her that way before, but considering she's going down on him in a very pornographic way he can imagine her by a pornographic title and she lets out a whimper as she squirms beneath him and presses her own thighs tight together and slowly he opens the fist he has over his mouth, resting the heel of his hand against his top lip - mouth still covered - as he asks her roughly if her clit stings.

Laura's mouth is full of his dick and she's doing her valiant best to reach the root even as she shoots him a big doe-eyed sorrowful look and manages something close to a 'mm hmm!' in answer to his question.

Voice deadly soft, he whispers 'Poor sweetheart - I'm sorry it hurts, but you have to wait. Have to be a good girl and swallow me first' and she lets out the most fantastic sound

It's angry yet wanting and excited and he flexes his hips and oh fuck, oh fuck, it's happening soon. It's happening now and it's-!

Travis's head falls back and both hands are cradling her head now, practically crushing it, as he starts cuming in long, hard pulls - ropes of cum painting her throat and the inside of her cheeks and then she sputters and they're on her face and Travis can see the pearly sheen of his release and he feels like it'll never stop-!

...until it does.

It does and his head falls back against the office chair limply and out of the corner of his eyes he can see a red-faced, angry Sheriff Malloy and he pushes the unmute button to ask thickly "What?"

"Hackett! Have you been listening?!? I was asking you about the latest cases of graffiti tagging in Low End Park and I look up and you look like you're having a seizure! Did your old man ticker give out or what?!?"

Travis is about to answer only for Laura to pop her face on screen, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright as she says, "No, his ticker is in great working order! As are his other parts! Gotta go!"

And with that, Laura snaps the laptop shut, ending the call.

And Travis looks at Laura as if she's lost her mind. And as if she's the most perfect, most angelic person in existence. And then she's crawling into his lap and biting her bottom lip and moaning, "My clit still hurts, honey..."

...and what else can Travis do?

He takes care of the situation.

Like he takes care of everything.

And, surprisingly, Travis doesn't lose his job. He does, however, get told video conference calls for him, from now on, are a complete no go. Muted, unseen telephone conference calls from here on and out.

And Travis will take that.

He'll take that and then some...😏

#hackearney #travis x laura #cellar answers #the first time i tried to reply to this it messed up #hope you find it anon #find and enjoy!

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bellysoupset · 1 month

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"So what do you think?" Vince asked in a rasp, sitting down on the shitty couch and grimacing. The flu had taken a toll on him and even though he felt much better, all the moving around and loading and unloading of boxes hadn't helped.

There was still so much in the car, but Vince didn't have it in him to finish unpacking. His father would come over the next day and he could help.

"I like it..." Wendy mumbled, wringing her hands together.

When Vince had told her the plan was never to move in with his parents — in truth he wasn't sure how she had even assumed that since he had asked her to move with him as well — Wendy had looked about ready to cry.

The same distraught, heartbroken look she had displayed on her face that very moment, walking around the tiny apartment Vince had rented near the school he'd be starting at the next day.

"Are you sure? Because you look like you think this place is haunted," Vince teased her lightly, rubbing his chest. All the heaving and puking from three days before had left him with a perpetually sore abdomen, his lungs aching.

"No, I like it, it's-" Wendy breathed in, pulled on her corset top in order to collect herself and brushed some imaginary dust off, "it's cute. Could use a fresh layer of paint," she regained some of her usual sass and Vince smiled at the clearly forced attitude.

He got up from the couch, wrapping his arms around her from behind and squeezing his girlfriend. Wendy stiffened up for a second, before melting against him, shoulders dropping.

"I fucking hate that you're leaving," she whined, fingers closing around his wrist and keeping him hugging her, "I fucking hate this place and I hate that I- I want to move here, but I-"

Vince pressed his lips to her temple, bending down in order to kiss her cheek, "no, you don't. It's only going to be a year, honey."

"A year, right," Wendy sighed, looking all sorts of defeated, "a year until we break up."

"A year for us to try long distance," Vince corrected, ignoring the way his heart squeezed at her words. He had no plans of breaking up, but the fact that Wendy kept bringing it up as if it was a fact didn't help in the least to reassure him she wouldn't break things off, "then if it doesn't work, we'll think of something else."

"We're only delaying the inevitable," Wendy mumbled, nails digging in his arm and he let out a sigh, kissing her temple again.

"We are not breaking up," he promised her, "not unless you dump me," it was meant to be a joke, but he was genuinely scared of it and it came out as a question.

Wendy let out a scoff and he could almost hear her rolling her eyes. Vince squeezed her a little tighter, "honey, my parents did long distance when in college and look at them," he said, trying to sound optimistic, "practically hired actors for a margarine ad."

She let out a little watery chuckle at that and nodded, "I know... I know, you're right..." Wendy leaned back, then wrinkled her nose in distaste, "but really, this apartment is so ugly."

Vince let out his first real laugh, deep in his chest and rumbling against her back. Wendy smiled, eyes stinging at the fact she would no longer wake up every morning feeling him all but purr with soft snores, the exact same vibration she was feeling right now.

"Yeah, it's lacking some pink, don't you think?" he teased her, planting a kiss on her neck, "and some glitter."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not sure about glitter for your little bachelor pad-"

"I'm happily taken," Vince scoffed, his voice muffled by her hair, breath brushing her ear, "stay the night?"

She knew what he was doing, trying to distract her with sex, the issue was... It was working. Wendy turned on his arms, shaking her head, "I can't, I have work tomorrow morning. But I'm gonna see you Friday and you're going to call me tomorrow night, right?"

He nodded, "yeah, probably during lunch as well-" Vince bumped his nose with hers, bending nearly in half to kiss her and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling Wendy off her feet.

This was so unfair, Wendy thought viciously, as Vince's hands dropped from her waist to her ass and she locked her legs around his torso, them stumbling back and falling on the cheap couch.

The furniture let out a groan under their weight and Vince muffled a chuckle against her mouth, feverish kisses dragging down her lips, her jaw, her neck-

"I really have to leave," she groaned, pushing him back. Vince let out a sigh, resting his forehead to her chest, since she had some height sitting on his lap.

"Alright, alright..." he planted a kiss the exposed skin, "text me when you get home?"

"Okay," Wendy nodded, before stealing another peck, "use the red shirt tomorrow, it fits really well."

"Yes, ma'am," Vince kissed her again and it took Wendy all of her self control to pull back, pushing him away. He walked her back to her car and it took them at least another handful of kisses, before Wendy found strength enough to hit the road.

She meant to go home, but just the thought of her empty apartment made her shudder and the knot in her chest get even tighter. Wendy parked the car in front of Jonah's building and quickly shot him a text, as well as letting Vince know she was home safe. A little lie he didn't need to know.

Jonah was wearing his olive silk pajamas set when he opened the door, looking super sleepy.

"Dee, what-"

"I can't sleep in my house tonight," she pouted and Jon's frown cleared up immediately. Her wordlessly stepped aside from the door and Wendy entered, noticing most of the lights were off. She had no idea what time it was, but it had already been nearly ten when she left Doveport.

"C'mere," Jonah sighed, wrapping her up in a hug and Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, sinking into his arms. He was warm, clearly taken out of bed.

Her eyes burned, stinging with tears, throat aching as she was doing her best not to cry. Jonah's chin pressed on the top of her head, "it'll pass," he whispered, "you're alright, I got you."

"Can I stay?"

"I'm not kicking you out at 2 AM," He scoffed, squeezing her a little tighter, "c'mon."

Wendy didn't say a thing as Jonah guided her further into the apartment and she didn't even register when they passed by the guest room. It only downed on her once they entered the master suite and she saw Leo curled up on his side, with JD happily asleep against his stomach.

She frowned, but Jonah simply yawned and slipped under the blankets on his side of the bed, lifting the covers as a wordless invitation.

Wendy chewed on her lip, but it was an empty gesture. She needed this, to be wrapped up and squeezed until her heart glued back together and she could be her powerful self in the morning.

She kicked off her shoes and crawled on the bed, taking half of Jon's pillow. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, yawning.

"Thank you," Wendy whispered, cuddling as close as she could and closing her eyes.

"Anytime, darling," Jonah yawned in return.

#mywriting #emotional whump #brotp #this is simply for MY benefit #wendy marshall #and also bc i needed to write Vin's departure in order to move on w/ my fics #bed sharing

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kairiscorner · 9 months

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PLSS DO ONE WHERE READER INTRODUCES MIGUEL TO KPOP LIKEEE this man definitely has loona on his workout playlist 💯💯💯🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

HELLO !! ok disclaimer: i'm not really that well-versed in kpop, so i had to ask help from my friends and kinda combined theirs and my opinions together, so sorry if it's jumbled and ooc, i tried :')))

introducing him to kpop – miguel o'hara x reader headcanons and blurbs

"what am i listening to?" he asked you as he looked at you with a perplexed expression as he listened to the beginning of the song russian roulette by red velvet. he didn't take the headphones off, but he didn't fully comprehend what exactly he was listening to. "it's k-pop." "ok, and why does it sound like a cotton candy fever dream?" he asked you as you chuckled aloud, knowing what the lyrics really meant. "it... it's part of the appeal." you said as miguel sighed and sat back as he listened to the song. you swore he swayed his head a little as he listened to the song; and you might've, sort've caught him on camera doing it.

miguel only agreed to listen to kpop because you wouldn't stop bugging him about it, like you and lyla keep streaming newjeans songs (FUCK YEAHHHH) and they just become an earworm for him 😭😭😭

he probably unironically likes supershy and it's his deepest, darkest secret.

why do i see him playing 'attention' while working out what, he blasts that while he's at the gym, ignoring everyone else and........ maybe hoping to get your attention (haha kairi's a shitty comedian)

the song's lyrics and melody are the only things filling his ears right now, the calls and greetings of the spider people in the gym are being tuned out by the song as miguel lifts a couple of weights. peter b walks over with mayday on his chest, the redhead babbling and trying to call for her 'tio miguel' as her father keeps rambling to him about his dad bod and proposing an idea to make a playpen for the spider babies when the spider parents aren't around; but miguel can't even hear either of them--he's too engrossed in the song and hoping that he'd not only go away, but that somebody's attention would be captured from his exercising. hopefully.

when 'paint the town' comes on his playlist while working out HE GETS IN THE ZONE; NOBODY CAN RIP HIM AWAY FROM HIS WEIGHTS

the only reason he likes boy with luv is because of how cute you are when you sing along to it :>

imagine him listening to life goes on while looking back at memories of him and gabriella (•‿•)

he can't stop the tears from falling; he knows it's a kpop song sung by really flashy guys who many people all over the world adore, that it usually wouldn't be something to bring him to tears, but... the message is conflicting with his emotions.

as he watches his daughter come back to life through the videos and photos they had together, though the stinging feeling that she's gone–that he can never hold her nor speak to her again, and can only see her in his dreams–won't leave him alone. the song's lyrics, after he understood the translation of it, made him feel a little achy, but it also helped him feel a little relieved, in a way?

"life goes on..." he read the title aloud as he tasted the salty tears rolling down to his lips as he blinked them back, seeing the distorted image of his daughter as he watched the video of the two of them at a soccer field after her big win. even without her, miguel still lived; life... went on.

though he couldn't understand why he lived when his daughter should've been given a full life ahead of her, he lived. and because he lived, his life will go on, with or without her–but he refuses to live another day without thinking of her his beloved daughter, and... apologizing for being the reason her life didn't continue, her life couldn't go on because his did.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @meeom @ophanimgold @melovetitties @popeheywardssecretgf

#miguel o'hara #migurl o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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mlmxreader · 1 year

Text

Baby Got Back | Simon Ghost Riley x m!reader

@guardkeywolf asked: I'm back

Already

YES

saw all the prompts and....

"Did you just snack my ass" just...

Ghost x Male Reader where he does this on a mission (bro is bold af), with the comms on, and Ghost is just confused, and the male reader just starts complimenting just how great his ass looks...

I just immediately thought about that Las Almas mission where he had on the Desert Rat (that's what that skin is called) and that's was just giving that lol

summary: Ghost has a nice ass, so it's only natural that, as his boyfriend, you would want to show him that you're aware.

tws: swearing, mentions of guns, mentions of violence

It was a simple task really, just going around and making sure that everything was safe and set up, ready for the task force to step in when the time was right; setting up surveillance equipment and ensuring that it all worked and was hidden well enough not to be seen. You were only with the task force because Price had asked the Air Chief Marshal, Pahwa, for someone to assist them, and you were the only one qualified enough - plus, admittedly, Ghost liked having you around. He never said it, would never let it be known anywhere except when you were in private, but Ghost enjoyed having his boyfriend accompany him on missions; sure, he worried, but that was only natural. Worry came as naturally as breathing when in the middle of warfare, regardless of your piloting career and your success both in the air and on land.

Ghost liked being near you, he liked to stand behind you and liked to tell shitty army jokes that somehow always made you laugh; he liked it best when you were sat beside him, bringing your legs up to rest on his thighs as he rested his hands on your calves. He liked knowing that you were there, and that most importantly, you were very much alive; when you were sent on missions like this, ones where information had to be gathered before the shooting started, Ghost couldn't deny that he preferred doing them with you than anyone else. Watching you work was like watching an artist paint on a canvas, and he was completely fixated every time your hands worked with wires and cables, smiling from behind his mask, even daring to let it reach his eyes for a moment or two.

"So, as I said to him," you continued as you fiddled with some wires, "if you wanna see me pissed off, keep making stupid fucking comments and chatting shit, because I'm not above glassing a cunt."

Ghost chuckled softly as he leaned against the wall beside you, his gun at the ready as he kept an eye out for any enemies who dared to approach. "And here I thought you were a gentleman."

You scoffed, daring to steal a look at him as you grinned, your smile so bright and so handsome that it never failed to make Ghost lose his breath for a second. He had been head over heels for you ever since the day he met you, and even now, he was still just as head over heels.

"You ought to know by now, Si, I don't take shit from some cunt-faced septic tank who thinks he's better than me because he got fucking stars and stripes all over his twat uniform."

He shook his head, tutting softly, but as he was about to speak, Price's voice cut through the Comms.

"Eyes on the prize, lads, we can't afford a cock-up. You can gossip later."

You attached the last wire, and dusted your hands off as you stood up, giving it a nod of approval. "Nearly done, Cap, just two more. I reckon we'll be home for tea, at this rate."

"I'd murder for a curry," Ghost admitted. "A nice vindaloo with chips."

You let him follow you to the next place where the cameras were to be set, but then you handed the wires to him, and you grinned. "My back's killing, you wanna do it?"

"Sure," he shrugged, handing you his gun as he bent down. But then he shot right back up again when he felt a firm slap on his ass. "Did you just smack my ass?"

"I did," you nodded, proud of yourself. "You've got a fuckin' nice 'un."

Ghost rolled his eyes, bending back down as he started to work on the wires. "So do you, but I don't smack yours when you bend over."

"Your loss," you chuckled softly. "You do have a really nice arse though, Si. I should smack it more, remind you what you got back there."

"Please don't." He took his gloves off so that it was easier to set up the camera.

"Lads, stick up for me," you joked, unable to stop grinning. "He's got a really nice arse, don't you think?"

"Eyes on the prize, (y/n)," Price reminded.

Taking a look at Ghost's ass, you smiled as you nodded. "Oh, I do, Captain."

"He doesn't," Ghost grumbled. "He's looking at my ass."

Admittedly, though, behind his mask, Ghost was blushing more than he ever had before; sure, he was a little confused as to why you were being so bold, but he wasn't about to complain, either. Knowing that he had the attention of his boyfriend made him grin as he struggled to work with the wires, grinning to himself as he sank to his knees to make it a little easier on himself; he could feel your eyes on his ass, but didn't mind in the slightest. He would get you back for it, though, when you were alone in the night, he would get you back; but then he heard you humming, and he glared at you from the corner of his eye for a moment.

"I like big butts and I can not lie, you other brothers can't deny that when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face, you get sprung, wanna pull up tough 'cause you notice that butt was stuffed, deep in the jeans she's wearing, I'm hooked and I can't stop staring, oh baby, I wanna get with you, and take your picture-"

"(y/n)!" Price barked, but he didn't sound angry. "Save it for later, when you're back here and safe."

"Sir, it's the song from Shark Tale," Gaz's voice crackled.

"Let him continue," Soap added. "It's a good song."

"They're doing a job, gents," Price sighed. "The fun can wait."

"I'm with Price on this," Ghost mumbled.

"At least Gaz and Soap are on my side," you huffed. "That makes you outnumbered... besides, if I can't sing Sir Mix A Lot, how the fuck else am I gonna make sure you know you've got the nicest ass out of all of us?"

Ghost scoffed. "You think I've got the nicest?"

"Yeah, I do," you leaned over to admire it for a moment. "Actually, I know you do... y'know, I think I might just get you some tighter trousers."

"Please don't... and don't sing that song again."

Gently, you patted his ass as you bit at the inside of your lip. "Don't worry, Si, I won't sing it again... at least, not while there's a chance Price is gonna tell me off again."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

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theangelsaid · 8 months

Text

crimson - soogyu

! nsfw content

wc: 2.7k

warnings: dom!soobin, sub!beomgyu, kind of switch beomgyu (actually brat!beomgyu) soogyu college friends, teasing (?), dry humping

no proofread !

i tried my best (4 julita loml)

🫀

when soobin was paired with beomgyu as his partner for an uni project he didn't really knew what to do. doing the assignment with him wasn't the problem, actually they got along pretty well and started talking a couple months ago when beomgyu asked for help, completely lost at the sight of so many people - none nearly close as nervous as him-, first day of class.

beomgyu's voice was calm, almost monotonous if you didnt pay enough attention, but of course soobin did.

a few days and he was capable of hearing his voice shaking when he tried to explain something and couldn't find the right words, and noticing how his lips slightly twitched upwards before making a mean joke -what soobin ended up realizing was the way of showing he liked him-.

beomgyu was a good friend, even if he talked nonstop soobin didn't seem to care, he was a great listener and in some way beomgyu's takes always made some weird point.

his company was strangely enjoyable besides his loud personality, totally different from him, an introvert who preferred to study alone and quiet hangouts at the park.

so, when professor kim assigned the groups, he wasn't worried about working with beomgyu, in fact, he's really cool to work with, straightforward, dedicated, and never hesitated to say when soobin had any shitty ideas.

the problem.

the problem was soobin couldn't stop thinking about him since that night.

they'd just passed one of the most important exams, and beomgyu wanted to celebrate.

to soobin, celebrating wasn't much more than playing video games with his roommate and eating his favorites snacks; but playing resident evil wasn't part of his friend plan at all.

that was how he ended up with a very happy beomgyu in a crowded bar -that seemed more like a small club to soobin- getting drinks he didn't even tried before.

green light was bathing the place, walls with abstract paintings and neon letters, small tables with bottles and cans were occupied by people laughing and talking with their respective friend groups, along with a typical wooden bar and a small dance floor.

this combination was kind of overwhelming to soobin, he actually liked bigger clubs, where nobody can notice him because of the large crowd, he didn't prefer it though, his bed would've sounded nice if beomgyu wasn't good company and practically begged to come with him.

an hour hadn't passed and their table was full of shot glasses. soobin realized he was drunk when he asked beomgyu if he was wearing lip gloss, and then realized beomgyu was even more wasted when the words "you look nice tonight" came out of his mouth.

it was hot, stuffed with sweaty people, and a mainstream song barely let him hear his own voice; beomgyu was yelling something about how he needs to relax and stop being a boring bitch (apparently a nice compliment and a few drinks can't make beomgyu less hostile).

the contrast between this version of his friend and the one he saw in uni was completely different, one was capable of being extremely convincing in such a charming way that with a few minutes talking with professor kim he got to change an assignment date, and the other one stole a little kid's ballon at the park and ran away.

soobin wasn't completely immune to his charm, in fact, he was so spaced out that he didn't even notice beomgyu now next to him, one side of his body on soobin's like his glued.

he started to calm down, getting used to the noise, peculiar smells and the beverage burning down his throat, until beomgyu's breath touched his neck.

"soobin," his voice was breathy and felt almost wet on his skin, his body froze. "i thought you were the weak one but you're spinning right now. " lips touching his neck, probably involuntarily, it almost felt wrong.

"okay i need to take you home now."soobin grabbed him effortlessly, catching beomgyu's waist just in case he falls.

the thing was, he was drunk too.

"you're soooo boring, did i told you that already?," beomgyu's voice sounds lower when he's drunk, that would've been kind of hot if he wasn't stepping on his own feet and almost throwing both of them to the ground.

"yeah.. beomgyu can you please try to walk properly i'm trying to get us out of here," soobin tried to sound annoyed, he hoped he did, because he couldn't thought of anything else more than how slim beomgyu's waist felt on his hands.

once they were outside, soobin stopped and told him they're were going to his dorm since it wasn't that far, that's the less he can do as a friend, right?

after a taxi and beomgyu's teasing about how he probably had anime posters on his walls, soobin tried to open the door with trembling hands and a really fuzzy head. at the bar he was okay, he's usually good tolerating alcohol, but considering the mysterious drinks beomgyu bought him he wasn't so sure anymore. he just wanted to sleep and try not to think of the hangover this would cost nor beomgyu's waist. just when his keys slipped from his hands and touched the ground he started feeling his hair getting wet. it was raining. he picked up the keys while beomgyu told him to hurry and that if he picked up the flu he'll kill him in some atrocious way.

at the dorm, soaked and head still spinning, soobin's heart skipped a bit. what had him so nervous?

"can you hand me a towel or something please?,"beomgyu's voice brought him back to reality.

"o-oh yes, yes sorry, i'll bring you dry clothes too," soobin left to what it appeared to be a small closet.

beomgyu's started to look around. in fact, soobin didn't have any anime posters on his walls but a couple of pictures and portraits on wooden furniture, it seemed to be him and his brother, other with - he assumed - a little soobin hugging-almost-choking an orange cat.

the dorm was kind of big for a college dorm, it even had a small kitchen; it didn't surprise him though, this was allowed only to the rich kids or the brilliant ones with scholarships, like soobin. actually, it was kind of surprising how he managed to do it, as far as he knew he even was away from his family and didn't have that much money, working a part time job as a tutor for other students who didn't nearly needed worry about money or scholarships. of course he didn't told soobin how much he admired him for that-

"hey, here's the towel and dry clothes, you can change in the bathroom if you want," soobin appeared with messy hair and a new white t-shirt, glasses on and pajama pants.

beomgyu walked to grab the towel but just stood there, his chest almost touching soobin's and both of their hands on the pile of clothes. he noticed how tall he looked in front of him, dark eyes behind his glasses, and soobin couldn't helped it. beomgyu's dark brown hair falling wet and messy on his forehead, pretty pink lips, the skin of his neck exposed by his loose shirt collar. he can even see the stubborn glint in his eyes. oh, he never wanted something so bad than watching that break, like a disorderly act of control put on the sole purpose of getting smothered into nothing the moment soobin's hands touched his body, turning him into a writhing.

a grin crossed beomgyu's face, like he knew exactly what he had in mind, looking at him directly in the eyes and parting his lips.

"i'm going to change now," he tried to walk away like that was nothing, like he hadn't just stood there, chest almost touching soobin's while looking at him that way.

all it does is earn him a deadpan look in return. soobin mumbles, "you do like a challenge, don't you?,"

soobin grabbed beomgyu's chin, making their eyes meet again. all his sudden dominant demeanor was thrown out by beomgyu getting impossibly close to him, so close that he could feel his warmth breath on his mouth. soobin opened his mouth just to say absolutely nothing when he felt one finger fixing his glasses and his syrupy voice, "i think you know the answer, the question here is, can you take it?," beomgyu talked barely touching his lips, almost whispering, "can you take me, soobin?," words coming out with a devilish smile, "so what are you-," his teasing was cut by soobin's lips on his own, big hands pressing hard on his hips, not knowing how they've ended up against the wall; his back arched. the kiss was bruising and desperate, beomgyu let out a whimper that almost got lost in soobin's mouth when he felt his hand going under his wet shirt to press his ribs.

soobin didn't missed the opportunity, his tongue feeling beomgyu's bottom lip in a delicate yet such obscene touch just asking for permission, like he wasn't going to do it anyways. the kiss started to get heated and soobin groaned while touching the soft skin of the other's back, lowering his touch to reach the button of beomgyu's pants to take them off, exposing his slim pale legs. beomgyu broke the kiss only to start new ones on soobin's neck, who felt the smile against his skin when he moaned pathetically at the feeling of wet lips and the caress of teeth.

soobin couldn't take it anymore, grabbing beomgyu's waist while sitting on his bed, placing him on his lap and their lips met again, this time if felt consuming, beomgyu's head was spinning and it wasn't even for the drinks, neither of them felt the heat because of that.

beomgyu tried to move for some friction, moaning on soobin's lips when he started to want more, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his neck while he moved on the hard clothed bulge.

and soobin knew. he knew how he was trying to act dominant, aura blazing with fiery desire as he grinds on his dick, one hand on his neck, pointing out how hard he's gotten with a peal of cruel laughter meant to humiliate him.

"so hard already, soob," he tries to act so mighty, but soobin can see the inside of this thighs glisten with wet arousal. beomgyu's trying so hard to convince him that he's in control, but soobin know it's a question of time until the facade slips up and he takes the opportunity. and that's exactly what happens when soobin stop his movements by pressing him down, putting his hands on his hips, "i can feel the way you're tensing on my lap right now, acting so tough when we both know you'll fall apart if you had to work yourself down on me."

he could feel beomgyu's annoyance fighting with his frustration to move, but soobin's hands were stronger.

"s-shut up," beomgyu's voice came out raspy and almost inaudible if it wasn't for his face close to his ear, resting on soobin's shoulder, trying to hide his need.

soobin let one hand pressing hard on his hip bone and sneaked the other inside his shirt, caressing his back, "hm? do i shut up or let you move?"

beomgyu faced him, a teary-eyed whiny mess, "please".

soobin smiled, caressing his cheek. "such a pretty brat, so so pretty", then his hands were on his hips again, helping him move while taking all those pretty sounds on his mouth, kissing him like he's already his. it was too much.

it ached, it burned soobin's chest. like an itch in the point of his fingers, wanting to break him in the most delicate way, little by little, but to ruin him so he's only his to use. he needed to impregnate his perfume on his own skin, like an invisible mark that only both of them would notice. tasting him wasn't enough, biting wasn't enough. to need is something but to crave is dangerous and soobin was feeling sick and the way beomgyu was squirming on his lap begging to be fucked wasn't helping at all.

little did he knew how beomgyu was feeling. he was burning inside out, embarrassingly wet, his mouth can't erase the feeling of the other's lips and his limbs felt numb.

he usually was sardonic and loud, almost annoying, so practically crying on his friend lap was new and fucking embarrassing, and the worst part wasn't only that he was enjoying it, but that he couldn't helped it. he couldn't help grabbing soobin's shoulders, nails digging, trying to hold in whatever soobin was making him feel.

beomgyu covered his mouth with his free hand trying to hide his pathetic cries, the other still bruising soobin's back with his nails; that didn't last much, long fingers taking his hands and putting them in his back, grabbing by the wrist with one hand to keep the movement of his hips with the other. that's when beomgyu let out the most lewd sound soobin ever heard.

"fuck- you look so-" soobin's words were cut by beomgyu taking off his damp shirt, revealing his wet torso, pale skin and little moles adorned his soft stomach, pink nipples begging to be kissed. soobin started to kiss his neck, hands on his small waist, leaving a trail of wet lips while accommodating beomgyu's body on the mattress. he looked sinful, parted glossy lips, brown hazy eyes; pristine soft skin, pretty collarbones, the way he tensed up when his hands touched the curve of his waist, perfect just for him to destroy. soobin brought their lips together into a sloppy kiss, his tongue easily slipping past inside and eliciting sweet noises. being on top was easier, his hips moving deliciously, desperate thrusts against beomgyu's clothed heat, who could only respond with grabbing soobin's hair and moaning on his mouth trying to buck his hips, wanting all of him. beomgyu felt himself almost gone when his wrists were grabbed and hold on top of his head, then he felt soobin's lips everywhere, saliva and bite marks on his neck, collarbones, but soobin stopped moving in the process and he was so close, he didn't liked to be edged, not when soobin felt so good against him, just thinking about being actually fucked by him, head smashed against the pillow took his breath away. his chest heaving as he gasped for air when soobin's warm tongue touched his nipples, "don't move or i'll stop," beomgyu could feel the vibration of his voice against his skin and stopped couldn't stop fighting for touch when he needed it.

he knew exactly what to do. he held tight on soobin's hair, lifting his head, putting on the best show he could, dewy-eyed, he even looked sinless, "p-please bin, need you, i'll be good," the slight smile on soobin's lips told him it worked out perfectly, "you know, one thing about sleeping with your friend is that i know when you're lying, no matter how pretty you look begging for me," or maybe not, "is this what you want, gyu?," soobin started moving his hips again, he could even feel how wet beomgyu was through his underwear, this time in a rough pace, barely letting him catch up with the overwhelming feeling of his weight pressing on his smaller body.

the new angle wasn't helping with that, when he was on top of soobin he had slight control, now having him on top, fucking him though his clothes over and over made the edge of his vision blurr with each thrust. the pitch of his voice went higher and higher as he felt his climax coming, his hands flew up to grab at his shoulders, "soobin, i- close."

soobin kissed him messy, beomgyu receiving his lips the best he could," shh, let it out for me, gyu"

he didn't needed to be told twice, throwing his head back he gasped and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, but soobin wasn't planning to stop, overstimulating him as beomgyu started to feel how pleasure can be perfectly painful, his lower belly starting to tense up again when soobin's thrusts become faster and erratic as they came together, beomgyu's face hidden on soobin's neck as his body goes numb.

soobin he put his weight on his left arm, removing beomgyu wet bangs from his sweaty forehead to see his eyes, "you'll need the dry clothes now," his chest vibrating with laughter as beomgyu punched him on his bicep, "oh my god, soobin, shut up."

#soobin smut #beomgyu smut #txt smut #soogyu

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plenilune · 7 months

Text

hello friends! I used to be Guy Who Does Nothing Ever for like the better part of ten years and now I'm become Guy Whose Schedule Is Too Packed (Good Way)? anyway I miss you and here and also I hate mobile tumblr but it would be so much easier to use tumblr and like chill here in a fun social way if my computer situation were not so dire that I am perpetually harnessed to my desk where the shitty desktop Corey liberated from work (managers thought it was broken bc they're too generationally wealthy to have really sat down and reckoned with bad technology before; it's just a really shit Acer) when I wish to do, non-phone things. anyway, recently I have accidentally unlocked some type of overall beneficial mania I am trying to ride out gently but that has made me become Make Stuff As Part Of My Identity and also have a lot of emotions all the time. I bought a big rolling craft cart (twice the size of the Michaels ones) off Facebook Marketplace for fifteen bucks and then Corey and I had breakfast-lunch (it deffo wasn't brunch) at a diner in the neighbourhood where our combined meals with sides and coffees totaled like sixteen dollars before tip. (this is detectivecore.) also I've started painting tshirts and I may take up the bass. I don't know who I am or what is happening too me but I am riding it all the way to the end of the goddamn track, okay!!!!!!! maybe I'm just better now!!! maybe I love to be alive!!!!!!! I've spent more of my life more or less passively suicidal than I have, not being that, since my early teens so this is like, okay. sure. nice. what. let's fucking go

anyway not to brag but to tell my isolated teenage self -- my isolated mid-twenties self! -- that fuck it, life can be great and weird and big someday even if you feel like it's too late to get in on it, my calendar for this week includes

goth/industrial drag king night at my favourite local queer bar

if I convince myself it's worth it to call in sick to work to go see HOUSE (1977) on the big screen and maybe sell some stuff to make up the lost income (money is tight lately), I will, uh, go see HOUSE (1977) on the big screen at my favourite local cinema. you may know about it, coincidentally. recently it advertised Oppenheimer's sexual proclivities and went viral about it, which made me very proud.

oh it's ~employee appreciation week~ at work this week and Saturday is uhhhh sports day when everyone is encouraged to wear sport, clothing, or whatever. well I participate in one sport (cycling) and consume another (...........Formula 1) and can't afford a Bianchi logo shirt on short notice, so I may simply have to paint a shirt with checkered flags and the legend FASTEST LAP. you know. for normal and wholesome reasons. to wear to work.

[mumble mumble might have a make stuff and make out date with a hot possum-in-human-guise I know who gave me a chicken bone as a token the last time we hooked up]

anyway hello friends! I MISSED YOU. let's take this one from the top.

#the diary #i am a ridiculous person

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

Note

Oooooh how about 27 for the Spotify drabble thingo?? 💖💖

Acting Normal | steddie, slight canon divergence

Steve is leaning against his Beemer in the parking lot, smoking one last cigarette before he can no longer avoid the inevitability of first period on a Monday morning. That shit never gets easier.

He looks up at the sky, watching as the sun breaks through the clouds, painting everything in golden and orange light. Last night's rain long beaten, though the humidity's still in the air, refreshing and smelling like childhood, somehow.

It's a beautiful day. Shame to waste it in school.

He takes another drag from his cig before dropping it and stubbing it out on the concrete. There are steps approaching and the smile is on Steve's face before he can fight it. He doesn't want to fight it, actually. Doesn't even try.

"Hey Stevie," Eddie Munson says, his forearms pressed to the hood of his car, almost leaning into Steve's space. Steve leans back as he blows out the last of the smoke, eyes still on the sky.

"Morning Eds."

They've become friends, somehow. It's odd, but it works. It works wonderfully. The same way a golden sky can make a Monday morning bearable, the same way memories of rain hanging in the air can smell like childhood. Some things just work. This thing between him and Eddie is one of those.

"I have a proposal," Eddie declares, and Steve huffs.

"Can I say no?"

"Well, you could, Steve-o, but then you'd be missing out and I'd be telling you all about it for the rest of my life, and this day would go into the history books as The Day Steve Missed Out On All The Fun. And do you seriously want to give all those historians another reason to question life in the late 20th century, Stevie? Do you?"

Steve leans further back onto the hood of his car, his forearms resting beside Eddie's now and they're close, so close, he feels dizzy with it for a moment. He bumps their shoulders together and huffs.

"You're ridiculous, Eddie."

"Astute observation, my liege," Eddie says and Steve can hear the grin on his face. It's one of the reason this thing works. Steve can hear Eddie's smiles and Eddie can hear Steve's frowns, and they listen.

Maybe that is why he decides to indulge. "So what are you proposing, good sir?"

"Skip school with me. It's a beautiful day, right? Shame to waste it in school."

Steve smiles, because yes, yes it is. He smiles and he doesn't say no, only leans there, beside Eddie, still watching the sun and her clouds, feeling a certain connection to them in this moment. Because Eddie is the sun sometimes, even though he'll disagree. And Steve is the air that smells like rain sometimes.

"What do you wanna do? Or, what would we do?" he asks, his voice quiet, more a musing than anything else, but Eddie is smiling again. Steve can hear it in the way he breathes and leans his head against Steve's shoulder for a second, leaving sparks in his wake.

"See what life is like outside of school on Monday morning," Eddie says, painting a picture in Steve's mind. "Get ice cream, go to the record store and listen to music, make music, watch people doing their jobs and feel both jealous and glad that we can't be in their shoes yet. Smoke." His voice shifts then, the smile changing. "Dream, Stevie. Dream about life and stop acting normal. That's what we'd be doing."

His heart is doing the skippy thing again. The thing it always does when Eddie tells him to dream in that voice, like he knows, like he can hear that, too.

He hopes that this time, dreaming can mean that Eddie will lean in and kiss him again. Hopes that Eddie will talk about his band again, about how he's gonna be a rockstar, about how he'll annoy Steve with extra shitty lyrics for the rest of their lives.

"Okay," he breathes, and turns his face to look at Eddie for the first time this morning. "Let's go then."

actually, this is a really fucking Eddie song, lyric-wise. he would make an exception from all the metal for this song, i'm sure. I am seriously surprised this song is only number 27. gah. I love it. thank you for the prompt!! also go give the blackstarkids some love, they deserve more recognition! 🫶

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #i am feeling delirious and a bit ridiculous I think the cold has reached my brain. alas. the worms have company 😔#god this is way too poetic for this song I just wanted to write school skipping shenanigans but look at Steve being emo #HELP WHY IS THIS SO... FLOATY? Steve is floating. good for him honestly #this is somewhere between yearning and established relationship huh #dio words #prompt fill #spotify wrapped #dio’s steddie ramblings

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kxllingangels · 1 year

Text

Babydoll- H.S.

A/N- Not entirely sure what this is going to become. But, I had an inspiration to write artist and heartbreaker Harry. Enjoy.

'I can't move on, babydoll.'

It had been six months since the fall out. Six months since the era of Harry and I. I think I always knew what we had wasn't love. It never had been. We were just a product of people with too much love to give and not enough patience to maintain it. If I closed my eyes tightly enough, I could still hear the pattern of rain on our third date. He'd worn a shitty blue button up, stained with mustard from the burgers we ate at Macy's diner downtown. I could still feel his thick palms memorizing the curve of my spine, mapping out each curve and freckle in my back as he pressed a paint covered brush to the skin. Harry had wanted to be an artist since he was a child. He could make even the ugliest scenes look poetic, and he loved to use the human body as his own personal canvas.

"It's the only place I can wash away my mistakes after I make them." He had whispered, pressing another stripe of cold paint against my skin. At the time, I thought that was beautiful. To be able to give life to his creations, and take it just as quickly.

I realized now, that I was just another thing he'd left behind.

Harry had always been insatiable. We both knew it, and honestly it was one of the things I loved about him. I admired his drive. I loved the mornings I would find him on the fire escape of our small apartment, paintbrush in hand and globs of acrylic in his hair. His tired eyes always meant he was on the verge of creating something amazing. Back then, I found myself getting lost in the deep yellows and violets that rested beneath those sleepy green irises. I caught myself staring at him for hours as he sat in the kitchen, sketch pad in hand. His eyes would flicker between me and the paper, tongue poised at the front of his teeth as he furiously scribbled.

"Stop moving!" He would complain each time I shifted.

I would always respond with, "If you don't want a living canvas, stop drawing me."

His smile was unforgettable whenever I said it, and he'd always say. "I can't help it, you're my muse."

His muse.

It had sounded so lovely then, but what did it even mean now? What had it meant then? It meant three years of my life with him. Him insisting on eating take-out four times a week. Him only liking to watch the weather channel when it stormed so he'd have something new to paint. Him writing notes in the fog on the bathroom mirror for me to find after a shower.

And him, leaving without warning on a warm afternoon. Only a note left behind to prove he'd ever been there at all.

I remembered that note well. I kept it on my bedside table, even now. It was the only evidence I had to show that the era of Harry and I ever even happened. I had the swirls of blue ink, the indentions from where he'd pressed too hard memorized by now. It said-

I'm sorry, my darling. How could you ever love a man who is never satisfied?

He was right. I knew that, but it didn't make the words sting any less. He never could be satisfied because he was insatiable. He was always grasping for the next big thing in his life, and it was clear that it couldn't be me that fulfilled him. He wanted to be an artist, and being an artist to Harry meant that he had to do it alone. So he left.

I waited two months. Each time there were footsteps near our front door my stomach dropped, praying it was him to come waltzing in as carelessly as he had before. Every time I stepped onto the fire escape, I imagined he'd be there with a paintbrush between his teeth and sleep deprived eyes slathering paint on a portrait of the New York skyline. He never came back. Ever, and he and I began to fade like the seasons.

It was winter now. Most days, I could push the brunette boy to the back of mind and try to go on living. I had thrown myself into work as a waitress during the day at the diner we used to frequent. During the nights, I would bartend at the burlesque club downtown. It was always crowded, especially for small place and it kept me on my toes which was fine by me. Keeping myself busy kept my thoughts of him at bay and that kept me sane. So I ran orders and made drinks and occasionally flirted with a table or two to make some extra cash. It wasn't my end goal, but it was my now and honestly, I liked the routine.

Something was different tonight though. I could tell it by the way Maren was staring at me. She had that nervous grin that people get when they're about to tell you that your dog went to live on a farm a few hours away, or that they accidentally donated your favorite T-shirt. "You're anxious." I remarked coolly, placing an empty serving tray down behind the bar.

"No I'm not!" Maren offered quickly. Too quickly.

"Mare…" I said in a warning tone. She was making me nervous. Had she accidentally spilled the expensive vodka again? Was that creep from last Wednesday hanging out by the bathrooms again?

My eyes turned to face the redhead. Her cheeks were pink like she'd just run a marathon or seen something she wasn't supposed to. "Spill." I said, my eyes not being able to catch her brown ones.

"Okay, so before you freak out-" She rushed out. Great. Nobody starts a sentence with 'before you freak out', unless they're absolutely certain that you're about to. My ears perked back up at what she was saying when I heard her mention a him.

"Him?" I questioned, eyebrows furrowed. "Who's him?"

Maren rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Ro-ry, I just said I don't know."

Ro-ry.

That's how she always said my name when she thought I said something stupid, which was a lot. "Anyway!" She continued, leaning over me and filling a few shots glasses with tequila before sliding them across the bar.

I looked over to see a gaggle of guys donning baby blue shirts. All of them read, "Ben's last night of freedom!" in big blocky letters.

"So this mystery guy comes in, asks me if you still work here, and then hands me this." She slid her hand beneath the bar, fishing out a small package. It had brown packaging and a string tied in a knot around it.

"What is it?" I asked, taking the package as she thrust it at me.

Maren rolled her eyes again. "I don't know," She said, nodding towards the clearly unopened package. "He specifically asked me not to open it since it's for you." She turned back to another customer, beginning to place a concoction of liquor and juice into the blender.

"He was cute," She offered, "But the whole thing was kind of weird." With that the blender roared to life, canceling out most of the other sounds in the club. I flipped the package over in my hands a few times before untying the knot and peeling back the packaging.

I was met with a white box, but it wasn't that or the sound of a glass shattering by the bar that made me freeze up and seemed to stop time altogether.

It was the scrawling handwriting in blue ink that lingered on the face of the box, reading out-

Aurora,

I can't move on.

You're still my muse.

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thessalian · 4 days

Text

Thess vs A Few Side Quests

So I did go back to before I handed over POSEIDON, and decided to do a little more questing. And Stuff happened, as one generally hopes it will when you're playing a video game. So this is going to be bullet-points over the last few mornings, but I don't remember which days, exactly, so I'm going to do them all in a clump.

I have a diving mask and so I am going to go diving for greenshine yay!

All the way back up to the Daunt. At least these ones are relatively simple.

Huh. I have to break through rocks to do the thing. Okay.

Mrrrrr. This one is more complicateeeeed...

Hang on. Are there maps of the sunken caverns on my online map?

...There are! Holy shit! This will get easier!

Huh. On that note, I should probably go looking for those pass keys.

...ohfor-- GO AWAY YOU SQUEAKY MECHANICAL PAIN IN MY ASS.

Thank you. Now. Key.

Thankfully, no more mechanical pains in my ass for this one. Soooo ... now what?

Ah. At least these mechanical pains in my ass, I can shoot at. POONK.

So ... it's ... a shield generator. If I have a block function like unto a Soulslike, I am going to scream.

Oh. So like a tripcaster but it fires portable cover. Okay, I will put it in my inventory but I doubt I'm going to use it. Moving on.

Hrm. Okay, the Gouge has more mechanical pains in my ass and it won't go along its pathing so I think something bugged. Moving swiftly on.

Huh. Utaru clothes but Tenakth paint. The fuck?

Ah. Poor Tenakth idiots. I mean, I pretty well cleaned out the spot we're heading for but you do you, fam. ...Oh. I'm going too? Okaaaaay...

Huh. Nothing in particular. Right.

Oh, so the Tenakth are one of those asshole groups that will kill a disabled person just 'cos they can't fight anymore, when they could do something else. Greeeeeeat.

Yes, why doesn't he go to Plainsong and let the rest of you guys go home? I promise it won't be so much an issue when I get a hold of DEMETER and make your land-gods stop overfertilising your fields.

This morning, I shall take on the last of this particular area's rebel bases. But first ... Stalkers. I need Stalker bits.

...Um ... they climb trees now?

Ooh. I'm still very good at shooting them when they're cloaked.

Now. Rebels. ...Ooh, firegleam.

Right. REBELS. ...But there's Sunwings and Skydrifters in the way. POONK.

Okay-- Wait. What's this? Little green exclamation mark and ... that's Blaze. A whole bunch of it. Just ... sitting there. I think I'm going to stay as far back as possible and prepare to--

YEP THIS IS AN AMBUSH DODGEROLL DODGEROLL.

FUCK. OFF. REBEL. SHITBAGS.

Now Rebels? ...NOW rebels. Because seriously, ambush is a shitty thing to do.

Still no one so much as firing off a shot, though they do keep looking for me ... right up until they get an arrow to the face. That's always fun.

"She must have run off to lick her wounds"? Really? First of all, none of you so much as grazed me. Second of all? Who the fuck are you talking to?!? I made everyone else in this camp DEAD! Eh well. POONK.

I would love to do more, but work does tend to get in the way. Off I go.

Seriously, it's been a weirdly tough week and I haven't had that much in me lately. This weekend is probably going to be Cauldron IOTA and getting that quest for ELEUTHIA, probably in about that order, but for now, tiredness wins and I've been alternating between occasional bouts of random hunting in Forbidden West in the morning and House Flipper 2 in the evening. I hate fibro fatigue. It sucks.

#Thess plays video games #Thess liveblogs Horizon Forbidden West

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kookiecrush · 5 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/kookiecrush/734582102799122432/httpswwwtumblrcomkookiecrush7344726587937423

Pretty sure Tae did post about Golden on social media on release day so why y'all acting like Tae wasn't clearly louder in publicly supporting JKs music and release?

Like this is how y'all switch up sides 🙄 If you don't have a problem with private displays of support then whatever but why undermine the support Tae did show in order to level it? Like hold the same standard and maintain the same line for everyone equally.

And why is JKs solo concert so special to you that all the other members are under some sort of obligation to attend and support it when we've seen other solo promotions where that's not been the case or the expectation?

Kmedia and their hybe source take a lot of the blame for chumming the water but too many of y'all took the bait and now, because it's Taehyung of course, its been framed as a disappointment and letdown that he didn't appear. When it came to Yoongi's concert, the tone was 'oh, it would be a nice lik surprise if ....showed up' but when it comes Tae, it's a let down and disappointment that he didn't attend a show he never said or even implied that he would.

Half of this fandom don't even move for him, the company doesn't move for him, shitty solo stans are literally carrying his solo work---he does not owe anyone shit at this point. Too many ARMY don't actively support him, too many shippers don't actively support him outside of shit that doesn't matter like gifs and fanfics and we all should know damn well that Hybe don't support him by now.

Tae not appearing wasn't a disappointment or a letdown---it was an unfair expectation placed on him in the first place. He's ill and he shot for 6 hrs but ppl are really more surprised that he might have wanted to just take his ass home to rest rather than wave his pom poms at a concert for a member's SOLO work? (Like, the clue is in the capslock)

Tae didn't post for Golden so get your facts straight before you start making accusations. And how is me saying that neither of them posted for each other's albums undermining Tae? I didn't say that he's never posted or publicly supported Jungkook, did I? I've always treated Tae and Jungkook equally, I don't hold them to different standards. You're really barking up the wrong tree here. I can't believe I now have people in my asks trying to paint me as a Tae anti 🙄

Where did I say that all the other members had to support and attend Jungkooks solo concert? Kindly stop putting words in my mouth. I made a lighthearted post about manifesting the other members there. Something that I've ALSO done for the other members' events. I was hoping that the others could show up, I wasn't expecting them to. I certainly didn't think they were obligated to. You're twisting my words, anon.

Now who's "yall?" Because I didn't believe that article about Tae showing up and I definitely wasn't disappointed in him for not going. Am I the spokesperson for all taekookers now? If you have an issue with the people who were let down and disappointed then take it up with them. Why are you even here? There are plenty of people out there who are actually hating on Tae and dragging him yet you're bothering me?

And you're preaching to the choir about how the fandom treats Tae, anon. I've brought up the unfair treatment he receives and the fandom's behaviour towards him several times. I agree that it wasn't fair to place those expectations on Tae about attending Jungkook's concert, and it also wasn't fair to then turn around and be angry and upset at him for not going. I've literally already said this. I don't know what more you want from me.

#ask #taekook #vkook

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gorey · 8 months

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this is the only post like this I'll make because I refuse to be negative about our weight gain but. we used to be so hot. we're still hot but in a different way and it's been hard to adjust. we feel undesirable. I know we're desirable to a vast contingent of fags out there but there's grief for. for everything for our body for the people who loved us and fucked us for our freedom for our money for the college house and the apartment and the underpass by the river and the house we weren't supposed to be living in. even the goddamn bus stop we slept at when we got kicked out, the shitty wine we drank. for the jobs that were actually okay to work at. for always having weed, for the ketamine and the dxm and even the other shit just to have it just to be able to fuck around and get on a bus and go north. for Boston and NYC and Rhode Island. for Peter and Mike and Tom and Bee and Claire and Damon everyone else who left us or we lost touch with. Some of them we're glad they're gone but we still miss them we miss them all we miss the tunnels and Artemisia and Spacebar and the fancy liquor store and our ex's friend group who all were kind to us and our camera and our piano and our cavity-free teeth. we had a whole life and we destroyed it and it destroyed us. now our body is unrecognizable and we can't even answer texts and we don't want to go anywhere and can't anyway because we don't have money of our own ever. we only ever go places with our mother who we love but really, really hate. and somehow all of this is encapsulated in the fact that we will never be that skinny rougish young thing again. there's nothing left of our past. we begged Belial for us to be cauterized, severed from it all, allowed a reconfiguration. we live in the anticipation of change but can never enact it ourself. we're in a loop in a mirror maze, we are an oroboros. so desperately do we need for someone to find us beautiful again. but we're scared that we're too fucked up to love someone right at least right now. tainted by rape. humbled by the picture of ourself they painted that was accurate and ugly, things we never knew were in us until they were brought to light by a lover who was actually willing and able to tell us like it is. we were loved right and we ruined it but they were right we really weren't compatible much as we had tried to deny it. we lost them and the one before and those loves we had for others that could never be still linger in our heart. we have no idea what we used to be like before like. 2021. it's all gone now. maybe it's best not to remember, rebuild ourself anew however we please. we want to be a good man. the form of our body should be inconsequential but we hate the fact that it symbolizes so much. we always pray for mania. we don't want to upset anyone or get into any danger. but we need a spark we've been trying to force it by dosing modafinil late in the day and staying up all night. we tried reducing our meds for a time but we're back on our full doses. it feels hopeless. we want the magic back. we want to understand the numbers. we want to glimpse what we learned again. we haven't forgotten all of it. sometimes we felt like we were on a ship at sea, everything flowing together so perfectly. the past was so terrible but we ache for it. we want to be thin and wretched smoking cigarettes at an underpass, drawing orchids on post-its sheltering in a Starbucks, being reckless and in love at the mouth of the tunnel, high and elated, finally found by the people we were meant to know. we wrecked it. others wrecked us too. we don't want to be incapable of sex. we don't want them to have changed our body the way they did. scars and disease. everything will come our way eventually. our hope is steadfast. perhaps faith would be a better word. we believe in G-d but he hasn't treated us well. it's why we look to the dark things. we are loved by the one we bleed for. 27s sing around us every day. but we are alone now. one day we will be in a safe place, a person beside us. one day we will be held.

#a #s #victor tag #weight tw -#rape tw -

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ghcstvalleychief · 1 year

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No but the Lutawolf thing pissed me offfff! I was disgusted about the Emmett Till thing because any of us with a brain saw how that comparison was awful (and even though they tried to double down and swear it was a comparison instead of just apologizing and growing from this experience) but in that post they said a lot stuff that sounded very much like victim blaming and ableism as well. The whole post was rife with it but these parts stood out:

“Now, if you accuse someone. You have to have proof. And I don't mean bruises on wrists. I give those to my submissive when I do bondage.

For instance, if it was me. I could tag several people on here who know me in real life that can verify everything I've told you guys. I could point you to court casings. There were video taps, DNA, and much more. So much that they pled guilty. Never mind that they only got five months.

So not only do we not have proof from Poi. Other than pictures that were found to be stolen. She took someone else's pictures to use as her own. Do you see what I went through. I have videos and pictures. If it had been me that she stole from, I'd make her the abuse victim she wants to be so badly. “

As someone who’s also a survivor but was very young and couldn’t provide proof for many reasons, I was met with this same attitude from people for years because I spoke out. I hate survivors with superiority complex because the rest of us that don’t fit their perfect definition end up feeling belittled and invalidated. Like this isn’t even about the Poi/Build thing it’s about making other survivors who’s story probably looked similar on the outside, feel like crap all over again. Although, I find it funny that someone who says they don’t care about one party or the other, they definitely did a good job of painting Poi as the “psycho” and Build as the poor innocent baby. That’s why comparing him and his situation to Emmett felt even worse than if they’d just left it at that. Emmett was an innocent child and Build is a grown ass man with a documented history of similar behavior. The whole post was just disgusting all around.

I was contemplating abandoning the KP fandom after you said you probably would but, after this, I think I’m out for good. So many people who I used to admire here have recently shown themselves to just have the worst opinions. Anyway, sorry I just wanted to rant. There’s a lot of drama going on so please just ignore this if you want to.

Fuck Lutawolf. You know, I said I was gonna stay off of here, but I caught wind of all this bullshit and I had to see for myself what the fuck was going on.

I had that person blocked for quite some time but I unblocked them because I want them to see everything I'm saying regarding this issue.

At the end of the day, you can defend your shitty fave without comparing that piece of shit to an innocent child who was tortured and murdered as a result of false accusations. This is NOT the same. Build is NOT Emmett Till nor are their situations the same. Build is a garbage individual who has had a pattern of being awful and everything is finally catching up to him. Build is a racist, homophobic, misogynistic piece of shit (as per his own words when he wrote that sad sob letter last year after we found out how he truly thinks). He is not being unfairly targeted due to racism or outright hatred. Actions have consequences. You can't walk through this world thinking you can say and do whatever you want without there being consequences.

That's not how this works. Fuck Build, fuck his fans/supporters/staunch defenders, and fuck anyone else who thinks they can use murdered Black children to absolve Build of any perceived guilt. You can make a point without using Black trauma to justify and manipulate people into feeling sympathy for a guilty piece of trash. The Black trauma was used to really hit everyone right in the feels so they can care enough to ignore that he has a history of being awful. His fans have covered it up and have been trying to get other people to stop talking about it for MONTHS. Since that's not working this time, I guess they have to pull out the big guns. They're spreading misinformation and trying to quiet his accuser while also trying to force the rest of his cast mates to come out and defend him when there's nothing to defend. Brands are publicly renouncing him and cutting ties with him for a reason. He's bad for business and rightfully so.

Your fave has always been a bad person and it's finally caught up to him and now everyone knows. Stan who you want. Support who you want. If you want to support a guilty man, just say that. We won't respect you but at least be honest with yourself and everyone else.

#answered asks #anonymous #fuck build #fuck his fans too #murder mention tw #torture mention tw #racism tw

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