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#the more i think about it the more i realize that this is the single most interesting thing that's happened here since i made my account
seat-safety-switch · 4 hours
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In some countries, it is allowed to live on a boat. These house boats are called "houseboats," and they are quite a bit different from our more conventional housedirts. For instance, there is an internal-combustion engine in the basement. Wait, that's not different from my place at all.
For as long as I could remember, I've always wanted to at least sleep on a houseboat. In my country, we have lots of water, but none of it is in the province where I live, which is a flat hellscape devoid of all features except for white supremacy and a guy who incessantly honks whenever a hockey team scores a goal. It's not clear where his allegiances lie, but that is not the point of this story. The point is: I wanted a houseboat. So I snuck onto the airport runway and hid in the landing gear bay of a 747, hoping that it would take me somewhere that boats are also very mildewy-smelling houses.
As I rode there, alternately taking huffs of oxygen to stay alive, and glugs of off-brand Sichuan-knockoff not-Huy-Fung to stay warm, I thought about the downsides of the floating home lifestyle. For one thing, you'd be constantly trying to deal with leaks, and those leaks are quite a bit more serious than "spray Flex Seal on it and stop thinking about it" in a conventional home. My mind wandered a bit as the oxygen started to deplete, and then it struck me. I realized to no small amount of horror that the problem with houseboats is that there's no garage. If you want to park your car at your house, you simply can't.
This disgusting, deviant lifestyle had lured me across the world, all for nothing. Things kept getting worse for houseboats the longer I thought about it. If there was no lawn, I couldn't park a car on the lawn. If I couldn't park a car on the lawn, I couldn't park forty cars on the lawn. What would even be the point of living?
It all worked out in the end, because once the plane landed, I got to spend some time in Dutch prison before my deportation. Besides being prettier and better appointed than my actual home, it was also a houseboat. Well, prisonboat. I got a chance to try out this new, interesting way of living, and I didn't have to give up even a single shitty car to do it. Plus, one of my fellow prisoners explained to me that you can park a whole lot of bicycles in a houseboat. He was arrested for trying to ramp a BMX off of the forehead of a police officer while demanding the government turn a major highway into a bike racetrack. I think we might be related.
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euseokz · 2 days
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@ sungchan — i just miss you so much baby, i can't help it . . cws : phone sex . masturbation (f + m) . oral (m) . wc : 1.0k+ . genre : smut
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BOYFRIEND! SUNGCHAN who, when he goes on a week long family vacation, starts missing you a little too much by the middle of it.
he knows you're only a phone call away, so that's what he does, call you, a sweet conversation that started out about how much your boyfriend missed you quickly going south, becoming more devious without either of you even noticing it.
“i just miss you so, so much” sungchan mumbles, his voice sounding almost whiny, and that's when you realize what he wants at that moment. you're direct with it, ask him if he's hard, and when he only lets out a small moan you know he already has his hands down his shorts, probably palming himself through the fabric of his underwear. it was like he was going through withdrawal, a withdrawal of you, so needy for you he was willing to go through any lengths just to get a bit of release.
“are you alone?” you ask, your own hand moving towards your middle, fingers pressing against your clit through the fabric of your bottoms. sungchan gives you a positive hum, letting out another small groan, then telling you that he can't make too much noise though.
that's when you know there's no turning back, that now you're gonna see the end of this.
without missing a beat, and while applying a bit more strength as you touch yourself, you ask sungchan what he’s thinking, his reply more shameless than you’d expected.
“of you, laying on your bed, playing with yourself and making those pretty noises you always make for me… i wish i could just walk in and fuck you, strip you out of every single piece of clothing you’re wearing and fuck you until all you can say is my name” he told you, tone hushed but loud enough for you to catch every single word, a soft whine slipping past your lips as you finally pushed your underwear to the side, touching your clit directly, circling your fingers over it in a languid pace, hearing as lewd, wet noises spread through your room, your low whimpers mixing well with the sounds of your slick while you touched yourself.
“and what are you thinking about, pretty girl?” sungchan asked after hearing your reaction to his words, that enough for him to know he had you exactly where he needed you.
“of how much i want your cock in my mouth right now, how good it always feels when you pull at my hair and make me swallow it all even if i can barely handle it. just thinking about it drives me crazy channie, how sensitive you always get when i lick your tip, and how messy it always is when you let me play with you” sungchan groaned as you spoke, throwing his head back and pulling his hard cock out of his shorts, stroking it at a fastening pace — your filthy words, how you used the nickname you always reserved for your more intimate moments, everything about the whole situation driving his crazier than he had expected it to.
“tell me how you’re touching yourself right now baby, please” sungchan said breathlessly, his eyes closed and his mind running a million miles per hour, his fingers gripping harder around the base of his dick before moving up to his tip, spreading his pre-cum down the entire length, groaning as lowly as he could, so only you could hear him through the phone.
“i’m playing with myself like how you always do before you fuck me” you replied, sungchan immediately answering back with another question.
“does it feel as good as when it’s me?”
“no, your fingers feel so much better” you spoke through a low moan, moving to stuff two fingers inside yourself, letting out another mewl as you felt them push into you, moving them slowly, almost as if you were teasing yourself.
“i wish i was fucking your pussy right now, i’m driving myself crazy just thinking about it” sungchan said, holding back just how loudly he actually wanted to moan, moving his hand faster, desperate for more. “i want you to make yourself cum to my voice, you can do that, right?”
you hummed at sungchan’s request, bending your fingers and pressing them against that spongy spot inside your hole, biting at your bottom lip hard, pressing your lids close together and imagining sungchan was right next to you — much like how he was doing, just that he was instead thinking of you on top of him, fucking yourself on his cock, while you imagined him pushing his fingers in and out of you.
“‘m close” you mumbled, feeling warm pleasure bubble up around your lower stomach, moving your fingers faster, seeking more of that sweet sensation.
“me too, fuck-” sungchan groaned, his voice fading as you only heard him let out a low, dragged out moan, then only his breath being hearable through the phone, it’s pace quickening until he cursed one more time, his voice now strained. “i’m cumming” he grunted, his hands moving faster until strings of milky cum were dripping down his fingers, staining them and running down until it dripped to his shorts.
almost as a chain reaction, you too felt your orgasm burst inside you right after, your high crashing into you hard, making you let out a louder than expected moan before also going silent, only your ragged breath left as you slowed down the pace in which you moved your fingers.
eventually, you two calmed down, taking you a few moments before you spoke again.
“i really wish you were here” sungchan said through a laugh, looking at the mess he had made of himself.
“me too” you replied through a pout, your eyes also focused on the mess you had made.
“i miss you too much already”
“you’re going through withdrawal or something” you laughed, giving yourself a second before getting up and heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, much like what sungchan was doing at the same time as you.
“feels like it” your boyfriend replied through a chuckle, your conversation after that going back to being lighthearted, his need for you still alive, but at least a bit tamer now.
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pinknipszz · 10 hours
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IT'S BUZZCUT SEASON, ANYWAY
⤷ gojo satoru, ryomen sukuna, and fushiguro toji
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SATORU thought it was going to be a harmless prank. hair grows back after all.
well. he didn’t anticipate his “harmless prank” to cause this much emotional distress. 
“it’s so ugly!” you scream, hiding your tear-stained face in your hands in a desperate attempt to forget the horrific image of your sweet, sweet boyfriend and his white buzzcut. entirely dismissive of the fact that you’re in a public setting—a park, actually—satoru quickly scoops you up in his arms with consolation on his lips.
“it’s not that bad baby,” he swears. “it’ll grow back in a few weeks anyway.” you spiral at his words as images of that vile haircut flash in your mind. after putting you back on your feet, satoru tries to pull your hands away from your pretty face, but his efforts turn futile once he hears something along the lines of: “it is that bad!” 
it comes out as a hoarse, incoherent muffle, but he understands it nonetheless.
“i’ll wear a wig!” he blurts out desperately. "there's a shop down the street. we'll buy one right now." your shoulders stop shaking as you fall silent, and for a moment, satoru thinks he made the right choice of words. however, when you barrel into another fit of loud sobs, an unretrievable part of him chips away.
with a heavy heart, satoru sighs and holds you against his chest, cradling your head. he really fucked up this time. people throw him strange looks, but others—especially women—only sigh and shake their heads sympathetically at your anguish. no one can really blame you for reacting like this anyway. 
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“SUKUNA,” you gasp in awe at the sight of him. 
you’re hardly seated yet, but the thin glass shield does little to spare him from the bewildered look on your face as you gawk at the short, neat buzz in place of his usual slick back. he feels his eye twitch.
when the officer coughs behind him, sukuna throws a mean look over his shoulder before ripping the telephone off the wall and holding it close to his ear. he only gets to hear your sweet voice once a month, and he’ll be damned if you waste it on his hair. “don’t ask about it,” he gruffs out. “tell me what you’ve been up to.”
you blink once—twice, even—before mirroring his actions and grabbing the prison’s janky telephone (having done this so many times, you don’t even wince when you touch some mysterious residue left by the previous visitor). you try to speak, your lips curling around the syllables of a word, but not a single sound escapes your throat. 
sukuna rolls his eyes at your loss for words. “come on. talk to me, doll.” his light tap against the glass earns him a warning that you don’t quite catch from the officer, but by the quiet string of curses that leaves the receiver, you guess it must have something to do with cutting his minutes. which you absolutely did not want.
“i think it fits you,” you say hurriedly. “you have a nice face, so the buzz works really well.” your delivery wasn’t the most elegant, and you might have even stuttered in between, but sukuna nearly groans when he hears you again. god he misses you. more than you miss his pretty pink hair.
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TOJI thinks his life can’t get any worse—or at least that’s what he thought before getting into a car accident last week. by the grace of god, toji survived with only a few minor injuries, but his hair, now full of a million tiny glass shards, wasn’t so lucky. once he realized that they were impossible to wash out, toji knew there was only one thing left to do.
a loud shriek echoes through the apartment. 
“toji—why are you bald?” you point an accusatory finger at your boyfriend of three years, standing in the middle of your bathroom with a towel around his waist. maybe under different circumstances, you’d be drooling over the delicious sight, but how could you possibly do that when his hair is so close to his scalp!
toji simply won’t stand for this slander. now don’t get him wrong. he loves you more than anything in the world, but the last thing any guy wants to hear is his name and the word “bald” in the same sentence. “i’m not bald goddamnit!” he barks back with equal ferocity. “it’s called a buzzcut. get it right, woman!”
the hilarity of the situation has you doubling over in laughter. tears are ruining your mascara, but you don’t half the mind to care, and neither does he as tension melts away from his shoulders. toji chuckles and shakes his head at your desperate wheezes. honestly, this interaction could’ve gone much, much worse.
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(masterlist) | (a/n: i don't think anyone else in the series would get a buzz tbh)
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| I just want attention! |
Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader (Requested!)
Asking Toji for a divorce.
Word Count: 1.5k
CW: SFW, domestic mostly fluff and some angst, happy ending.
A/n: TYSM to the anon who requested! I'm not very experienced with writing angsty stuff so if it's bad my apologies. (Also tag: @chilichopsticks)
From the moment you met Toji, he was nothing but a gentleman to you. Maybe that was why you fell so hard and so quickly, so that when he was on one knee with a ring you didn’t hesitate at all after only a few months of being together. 
He always swept you off your feet, when you got off work he picked you up and took you wherever you wanted to go. He always tried to make you happy and spend as much time with you as possible, buying you flowers when you got a promotion and taking you to an early screening of a movie from your favorite franchise, were only a few of the many things he would do often for you.
All he asked for in return, was for you to accept him, faults and all. He had made mistakes in the past, and still worked as an assassin, which was the only job he felt he was well suited for. With you in mind, he quit his gambling habit. After so many loses he finally got some sense knocked into him and decided to saved up his money, so that the moment the two of you tied the knot you wouldn’t have to work at all. 
To most, Toji was seen as arrogant, if not invisible since he kept to himself, something that you never understood. On the day of your wedding, you were picked up in his arms and carried directly to the car, where he drove the two of you to your honeymoon destination right after the ceremony and fuss was over. Two weeks of hot springs and relaxing in a small town awaited you, where your husband doted on you more than ever. Every morning you awoke to a sweet kiss on your forehead, and warm arms engulfing you, making you wish you could sleep forever in the comfort of his protection.
You made sure to snap plenty of shots of walking around to the different shrines and temples, and your husband wearing a yukata which he realized he was rather fond of. By the end of your trip you were more in love with him than ever, and even more ready to embrace a wonderful life as his wife in your new home. 
Somewhere in your heart you knew that feeling might not last forever, the butterflies you got every time Toji was around you. But everyone always said the honeymoon phase lasted at least a few months… not the length of the actual honeymoon. Nothing your family and friends had said about marriage prepared you for this reality, that the fade to normal life would be so sharp.
By the time the two of you got back to the house, your husband was already heading right back to work as usual. You kept yourself busy with unpacking all the boxes and setting things up around the house, but in a way that only made getting used to a routine harder. Toji didn’t come back for four days, being on a job he got unexpectedly. 
His quick call barely did anything to calm your nerves. He was always so careful about telling you about his work before the two of you were married, trying not to worry you. Of course you knew Toji was strong, and you tried not to doubt him, but you could barely sleep from thinking about it. Now living with him you could feel his absence by the empty side of the bed and the single plate of food on the dining room table. 
As soon as he was back, you were overjoyed by his presence, almost thinking that feeling you were missing had returned. But, it wasn’t for long. No matter how many hobbies you took up at home, or how many friends you made in your new neighborhood, the absence of your husband would always bother you. When he was right in front of you, he was still the gentleman you always remembered, who you loved with every ounce of your being. But when he was away, you couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you as much as you did about him. If he even missed you, he was gone so often for his assignments. As weeks turned to months, it blurred into routine and so did the wall that started to grow between the two of you.
That day, you had finally had enough. After contemplating it in your head for a few weeks, you realized that the two of you were still relatively new into your marriage, and you could still probably get your job back even if things changed. Of course you still loved him, and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but right now, that was almost what you were living. He got less and less affectionate every time he came home, and it was too stressful to have to worry every day that he got home safe in a job that you didn’t fully understand, as he couldn’t tell you much for your own safety.
You had promised him you would stay by his side for anything, but he had done the same for you. And right now, neither of you were anywhere near each other. Toji had no idea you had taken up watching the neighbor’s kid after school some days, or that you baked a fresh loaf of bread at the start of every week, something he was never there to try. You didn’t know where he was or sometimes for how long, not getting much more than a promise that he’d come home safe. 
“Smells good, what’d you make?” Toji inhaled deeply as he walked into the house. For the first time in your marriage he was home on a Monday, bread making day. “It’ll be ready soon,” you referred to the loaf sitting on a cooling rack. You forwent the normal welcome, though you did it so rarely that it seemed to go unnoticed. Making a cup of coffee to go with a slice of the bread, you shifted you feet uncomfortably, making Toji watch your movements carefully. “Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing the bread off the plate while you sat down in front of him. 
The two of you sat in silence. Starting it off with that question felt far too daunting. “Y’know what, I was thinking we should take a vacation,” he started, “for a week or two.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Haven’t done that in awhile, huh,” he groaned, hand rubbing his neck at your bland expression. 
He dropped his hand and sat up straight when he saw your face change. Your eyes, usually so cheerful and lovely, looked only of pain as they flooded with tears. “Toji, you know that I love you, I…” he watched you carefully as you spoke. “I… just can’t do it anymore,” you started to breath deeply, turning away to avoid your husband’s eyes. 
Toji grabbed your hand softly, encouraging you to squeeze it back as he listened. “I love you too, okay? Just talk to me,” he muttered, trying to decrease the tension though he knew in his gut what you were going to say. Clearly it had been on your mind for a while, you just wanted to get it over with. “I miss you, a lot, but I know you’ve got your work and everything,” you grasped his fingers, pressing into them lightly. “But I just don’t know what I’m doing here, aside from worrying about you. I’m not even doing anything for you.”
Tears flooded down your cheeks as Toji reached up to wipe them away with his thumb. “Maybe we just shouldn’t be together,” as much as he was prepared for your words, they still hit him like a ton of bricks. If only he could express how special every moment the two of you had together was to him, and how excited he was to make new ones. “I love you, okay? I didn’t marry you for nothin’, remember that.” 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be without you, but my work takes me away a lot.” Toji frowned, realizing your apprehension to fall into his arms was something he should have noticed beforehand. “I’ll quit, I’m serious. I just want you to be happy, okay? I don’t want to get divorced.”
“It’s not just that, it’s-” he tucked you into his chest. “You’re right, just calm down and we can talk about it,” you nodded against the fabric of his shirt. “I just want some attention, it’s like we don’t even know each other sometimes,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him as well. He smiled as you brought your head out, face dry of tears but still a bit pink. “I want to learn everything about you, yeah? Like how’d you get so good at baking…” he bit off a chunk of bread, now room temperature and slathered in butter. 
“This isn’t the time for joking, I just told you I wanted to get divorced,” you sulked as Toji laughed. “I’m just glad you changed your mind,” he let out a sigh of relief. “I still want to talk about this, but let’s leave it off for a bit,” he held you tighter, “I’d rather relax before I have to tell Shiu I’m quitting…”
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leonsbimbogf · 23 hours
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I adore you, I swear.
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🍃! Plug! Miguel O'Hara x reader !🍃
A/n: I got an ask about a plug Miguel x reader but my laptop crashed and I lost the ask. I'm so sorry stinky butt but here it is 🤞🙁, but dw this is only part one the next part is smut🙏. btw credits to JesGreenEight on Deviant art for the banner! ngl it might be short.
cw: miggy fw's u heavily 😼, reader's kinda like shy when they around him, weed, a cheesy porn plot boo me all y'all want!!
You needed to get some weed from none other than your dealer Miguel O'Hara. There was no problem having a favorite client but you were different. With your timid voice and shy actions, you had him swooning. Lately having alone time has been pretty tough on you and you needed a release, the sad thing was, you didn't have any money. You thought to yourself,
 “how can I even buy weed if I barely have any money” 
you pick up your phone and you start to text your dealer. 
Y/n: hii do you still have any left? :((
He immediately texts back. Before you can even close your phone. He was into you but can you even realize that he wants you? His favorite client. 
Secret Spidey: So needy for weed? Come to the same spot. I’ll be there in 20.
You rushed to change. Even if you were in a hurry you didn’t wanna look bad at least. You quickly noticed what was the point. It’ll be quick. you put on a jacket as you walk out of your apartment. You walk to your destination, the back of an abandoned corner store. Usually, you two would meet in his car but since it’s under repair he used his motorcycle to meet you. He doesn’t treat you like other clients, He even offers to smoke in his car with you. If you were some other client he would’ve given you only just weed and a cold glare with it. As he walks up to you you both realize how he was much taller than you and most definitely towering over you.  
“Hey, Miguel..”
 you say with a bit of a grin. 
“Oh bunny, what's up, you told me you needed some right? 
“Bunny? Where in the hell did this nickname come from?” Your thoughts cloud your head as you think about all of this, how close he was to you, the cute nicknames, how his eyes practically show hearts in them when they look at you.  
he puts his hand on your back and smiles as he does you start shaking slightly from a cold breeze hitting the back of your neck. you were gonna ask a stupid question and you knew he would get a bit pissy. 
“Miguel.. uhm..I was wondering if you can give me..some for free..you don’t have to it's just-“ you say ranting, hoping for him to at least hear you out on why you want the free deal. He cuts you off with a sudden deep sigh. He looks you in your eyes and in reaction, you put your head down immediately. 
“Aren’t you just the cutest huh?” He says with a faint chuckle before disappearing. Before you can even get a single word in, you open your mouth and something comes out but yet again he cuts you off. 
“Don’t worry your pretty little head yea? I’ll get you some weed, I just need you to do something for me..” your eyes light up with interest then he smiles at your eagerness. He always had eyes for you and you were just his type.
“Okay I can help but how so?” you asked biting your lip. you pray that he would say something back that you would like. It sounded like a cheesy porno but honestly, he was attractive and so were you. You have known this man for years so what’s the harm in that? you guys are just two people wanting to have a release and maybe more. Who knows?
this was my old taglist but here you go pookies ♥: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @chiwhorei
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am-i-interrupting · 3 days
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Hi! I love your Hazbin Hotel stuff and I wanted to make a request. If you haven’t done something like this, could you write the Hazbin characters, specifically Vox, Lucifer, Husk, and maybe Lute with an S/O (would prefer fem but G/N is fine) who has bad body dysmorphia? Like, they can never take compliments about their body, always thinking they’re overweight, not eating, etc. If this is too difficult/uncomfortable, totally understand! Would hate to trigger anything. Hope you have a great day/night!
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
Husk
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Husk will never compliment you in public after figuring out that you hate to be complimented.
That does not mean that he’ll never compliment you.
He will because he truly thinks you’re beautiful.
He simply elects to do it in private so he will be able to explain to you in length why he disagrees.
He wants you to understand why he loves every single thing about you.
Maybe you don’t agree but he will let you know why he thinks it’s all so beautiful.
He doesn’t try to make you love it all like he does but he will at least try to make you accept that he loves it.
Lucifer
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Lucifer can’t understand why you don’t see your own beauty.
At least at first.
Then he realizes how close self loathing is close to depression and how they can often intertwine and how hypocritical it is to be so befuddled by your lack of understanding of his love of you & your body when he can’t understand how giving people free will is a good thing in any capacity and wow— he was too hard on you and himself.
Hello, something new to unpack with a therapist.
He definitely starts being more understanding after that revelation.
Not that he was ever cruel but he was a lot more insistent on how amazing you are not understanding that his insistence may not help but could make it worse.
It could make you think he was lying, covering up some hidden disdain with an over abundance of praise like he does with sinners who thank him for free will.
He’s not.
Make no mistake. He truly does love and adore you and every single part of you is amazing in his eyes but he understands.
He lets up on his pouring compliments and his combativeness over whether or not he means it.
He still compliments you but he no longer fights with you.
He just says what he thinks and then goes on, ignoring any expression of disbelief with a small, “A difference of opinion.”
Lute
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You cannot dislike her partner.
Not allowed. No one can dislike her amazing partner.
Will spare with you when you disregard her compliments.
She means what she says.
Why would she waste her breath with words that weren’t true when she doesn’t have to?
Everything she says is said because she means it.
You best learn that.
Vox
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No, no, no, no.
You don’t love your body? Unacceptable.
“Velvette! A photo shoot is in order right now!” “I’m busy!” “Well, clear you schedule!”
Velvette actually has a way of making you feel a bit more confident without seeming like she’s trying.
The photo shoot actually goes well even if you refuse to look at the pictures.
Of course, that doesn’t last long because Vox puts them up in his office, just too large and gigantic to ignore.
He has pictures of you everywhere because he loves looking at you.
Will kiss every part of you in front of a mirror while saying why he loves every part and forcing you to look at yourself otherwise he’ll stop. He records the entire thing to watch back later.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
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pomefioredove · 8 hours
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
111 notes · View notes
lyvhie · 17 hours
Note
do you write for chenle? if so could i request angry sex with chenle? and plotwise/anything else can be up to you, you always make such creative works 😍
desert island | zcl
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boyfriend!chenle x fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.
a/n: sorry for being so late, anon 😭! ofc i write for chenle, how could i not?! thank you for the kind words, i hope you like it!! 😚
cw: smut, use of 'whore' (only once), hair pulling, slighty spanking, begging, reader is DRAMATIC, chenle is kinda mean, petnames.
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honestly, you can't think of a better partner than chenle. he's always so sweet, caring, and considerate, and you could talk for days about every single thing you love about him because you really love him a lot.
the same applies to chenle, who thinks you're so perfect for him. every time he wakes up and looks at you beside him in bed, he can't help but think how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side.
arguments in your relationship were rare, but not non-existent. like any kind of relationship between two people, disagreements occasionally arose.
you generally handle them with a mature conversation about the issue once the dust has settled, addressing the problem and coming to a mutually-agreed solution. however, sometimes, you both seem to be unable to agree on a resolution to the problem at hand. that was the case now.
it was a real stupid argument. you were released from work early and figured it would be a good idea to stop by the studio to see chenle and head home with him. as it turns out, it was a surprise when you showed up without prior warning, but he was happy to see you and it made your visit all the more meaningful.
during chenle's break time, the dreamies were engaged in a light and silly conversation about "who would you take to a deserted island." it was an innocent little game to pass the time and have some fun. when it was chenle's turn to answer, he surprised you by not choosing you, but one of his staff’s. this simple and seemingly harmless choice was the root of your trivial fight.
you didn't react immediately, simply laughed it off as if it was nothing but chenle could tell that something was off the moment you both got into the car. the car ride was unusually silent on your end, and chenle began to brace himself as he realized you were upset about something. he mentally prepared himself for whatever he felt was about to come as you walked through the front door.
"so..." he began in a gentle but careful tone, sensing there was an underlying issue you weren't being open about.
"nothing," you casually responded with a shrug, walking off and towards the bedroom. "it's nothing," you repeated again, but he wasn't fooled by your tone.
following close behind you, he asked another question, "is it me? did i do something to upset you?" he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, wanting to get to the bottom of the problem.
"no" was all the response you gave him, short and sharp just like before. as you continued into the bedroom and began to tidy up the already clean room, he leaned casually against the doorframe and observed you closely. he didn't say a word because he knew he would just have to wait until the "you know what's funny?" and there it was, your signature phrase for when you're in a bad mood, spoken in a slightly annoyed tone. he knew this would be coming.
"no," he said calmly and crossed his arms, looking directly at you and watching you make some futile attempts to find anything out of place in the already immaculate room. "please, enlighten me," his gaze intent as he awaited the inevitable moment of venting that always ensued after that phrase.
"of course you wouldn't," you replied back, feigning innocent ignorance and even rolling your eyes as you dramatically shook your head and sighed. "i didn't expect you to have kept a list of all the female entertainers you would consider taking to a desert island. so why don't you enlighten me on your priorities?”
for a moment, chenle's eyebrows were raised in a mix of confusion and slight surprise as he heard your words, genuinely believing that you were joking or being sarcastic. then came his soft laugh, as he was almost incredulous that you kept up this attitude with your arms crossed and a serious expression. "baby," he spoke gently but firm as a warning, "you can't be serious right now. it was an innocent little game that you shouldn't take so seriously.”
"oh really?” your words laced with mockery. “an innocent little game? then it shouldn't bother you to explain to me why i wasn't even on your radar. it was a stupid game but your answers just proved to me that i'm an afterthought, even in your fantasies. at least in your fantasy of the women you'd be willing to take to a godforsaken place with no hope for escape. so am i so insignificant that i didn't even make the cut for you?”
chenle pauses for a second to process the situation and your words, running his hand through his hair in an almost unconscious gesture of self-soothing. if he didn't know you better, he would've thought you were crazy, but after that incident with the stupid "worm" question, he knows that you're just dramatic.
he approaches you, cupping your face in his warm hands as he gazes at you.
"baby, please," he pleads, the affection evident in his voice as he tries to reason with you. "look at me," he says softly, using his palms to gently guide your eyes to focus on him. once your eyes meet, the intensity of his gaze deepens as his expression softens and his voice grows more gentle. "this was just an innocent game and you're blowing it out of proportion. please don't be like this. i love you and you know it. there's no other woman that compares to the love i have for you, not in a thousand lifetimes would i ever take anyone else over you. you're mine and always will be.”
even though you could sense the sincerity and love behind his words, you maintained a guarded demeanor, refusing to give in to it until you were completely satisfied with his explanation.
you know, you had a sharp tongue and an even sharper intelligence than some could imagine when you chose to use it. unfortunately, this was a time where the first worked, but the second didn't.
“well, it seems that you just have to be on a desert island to fool around with someone else, right? you just want to enjoy some fun and pleasure while away from the world,” your tone became sarcastic as you continued challenging his words and reasoning. “so who are you going to enjoy it with?”
your thoughtless words brought you to this moment. one of chenle's hands was intertwined between the strands of your hair in a tight grip, pushing your head against the softness of the mattress, forcing you to stay with you ass up. your eyes slightly red, your face puffy and wet, both from sweat and crying.
“fucking. stubborn. whore,” he spit out, each of his words was accompanied by sharp thrusts that made your bones shake and you gasp, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “can't listen to what i say for not even a damn minute,” he slapped your ass hard, making you whine and your eyes water again.
you lost track of time during this torment. it felt like torturous hours, where he kept teasing, edging you, not even letting you touch him, your ass was already marked by his hands, you felt the sting of each spank he gave, saying that brats like you don't deserve to feel good.
chenle knows you with the palm of his hands, he knows what you like, what makes you melt and he would definitely use it against you. his slow but powerful thrusts hit all the right spots that make you see stars behind your eyelids, his hand slipping between your legs to rub your clit in equally slow circles.
“…. ase…” your tiny, teary voice echoed through his ears. “oh?” he scoffs, pulling you by your hair until you were close enough for him to whisper in your ear. “i can't hear you, say it again,” his warm tongue sliding through your neck, sending you goosebumps.
“p-please…” you raised your tone slightly. “i'm so, so sorry, chenle,” the desperation and pleading in your voice is obvious, as is the remorse that you felt for your actions. “please, please, let me cum, please, just once, please,” the need seeping through every word, begging for relief and satisfaction.
a smug grin crept up his face when he heard your desperate tone. he loved how hopeless you sounded. he loosened his grip on your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he stopped his thrusts to savor the moment. his hand moved away from your clit to held your cheek as his tongue invaded your mouth, completely taking over the kiss.
your emotional state was so volatile right now that you honestly felt like crying. chenle knew that you loved kissing him, and by constantly pushing you away, he knew it was torturing you. your attempts at kissing him were met with a painful slap to your cunt, almost as punishment for trying to force yourself on him.
this simple yet deeply cherished kiss was enough to make you melt completely. you were yearning to feel this level of affection again after he kept pushing you away from him, it was all you were craving since he pushed you down onto the bed and shoved his cock inside your pussy.
as he pulled away from your lips, leaving you desperate for more, he let out a short, breath laugh at your reaction. he found it amusing how you chased after him to continue the kiss, but he was quick to remind you who was in control here by just pulling on your hair to keep you in place, making you whine pathetically.
"well," he purred against your ear, moving his hand caressingly over your body. he made lazy circles on your soft skin, lingering on your belly, you suddenly felt him be a lot more gentle. "since you asked so nicely, should i give you what you want, baby?" he raised an eyebrow teasingly as he waited for a response from you and all you could do was nod fiercely, letting small pleas of "yes, please" roll off your tongue as you awaited his move.
chenle hummed, feigning deep thought as he observed your face. He worked hard to maintain his composure and keep from showing his mischievous, devilish smile as he saw the light of hope that your expression lit up. "okay," he said finally, "i think you seemed remorseful enough,” his words were enough to bring a jolt of excitement to your system, you felt a rush of adrenaline course through your veins and every single muscle in your body tensed up, waiting intently for him to give you what you wanted.
with a light kiss on your lips, he turned you over and positioned you so you were laying on your back. hands that had recently been mistreating you were now caressing your body delicately, as if you were the most delicate thing ever made. his kisses traced your jawline before moving to your neck and breasts, making you think that the wait had been worth it. the punishment had ended here and he made you believe that the only thing you deserved now was his gentle touch and loving kisses.
he straightened his back, the movement causing his hands to move from your sides to the back of your thighs. in one swift motion, he lifted your legs and pressed your knees against your chest, and the sharp sob that escaped your lips was all the confirmation he needed that he has you right where he wanted you.
you felt his tip teasing your clit and your entrance, your pussy glistening from how wet you already were, his hard cock sliding inside you without any difficulty, your warm, gummy walls welcoming him as he filled any remaining space in your pussy.
“you feel so good, don't you?” his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, and a low grunt slipped past his lips as he threw his head back slightly in a gesture of complete relaxation. he would never tire of this feeling that was almost overwhelming at this point. this applied to you as well, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you moaned softly, feeling just how deep inside of you he was.
“you feel so damn good,” he whispered in a low, husky tone as he begins to thrust into you relentlessly, his tip kissing your cervix every time his hips slammed back into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling.
he increased the pace, leaning closer towards you. the full weight of his body was now pressing onto you, keeping you down and pinned to the bed but there's no resistance from you as you are simply overwhelmed by his size and intensity.
he had been playing with you for such a long time that it didn't take very much effort at all to push you over the edge. your moaning and whimpering got louder, your body tense and your breathing more shallow. your voice was coming out in a pitch that was nearly unrecognizable, with a few "thank you's" and some other incoherent words escaping your lips, your pussy clenching around him—he recognized this as the ultimate sign that you were approaching your orgasm.
“are you close, baby?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. “y-ye—” you were interrupted again by another hard thrust that made you let out a soft yelp. he grunted as he felt your muscles clenching around him once more, gripping him tightly. “c-chenle,” you mewled his name, “i-i’m gonna c-cu—”
before you could finish your sentence, he was quick to pull out of you, releasing the grip on your legs, making you let out a soft whine in disbelief when he pulled out without letting you finish, and all you could do was lie there as a deep emptiness washed over your body, your walls now clenching around nothing. you look at him with wide, teary eyes and trembling lips.
chenle’s grin widens when he watched your expression, a look of disappointment on your face as you realized you didn't get to cum as he made you think. he was satisfied in the knowledge that he had denied you the satisfaction you wanted and was pleased with how desperate and frustrated you were looking at him.
"aww, is my baby about cry? " he mocked you, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he reached out to wipe away the tear-filled eyes that now betrayed you. his hand lightly traced the curve of your face, moving slowly and tauntingly, as if he was enjoying your helpless reaction far too much. “that’s what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat,” his voice filled with condescension as watched how your emotional state seemed to sink lower and lower as a result of his words.
"you thought i would just let you have it your way?” he scoffed and shook his head at your naivety. "i thought you would know better by now, baby," his voice taking on a false empathetic edge as he leaned in closer. his voice became softer, his lips pressing lovingly against yours for a quick peek. "aww, no, no, don't cry," he echoed the soothing words with another kiss, teasingly brushing away the tears with his finger. "if you beg good enough, i might give you what you want."
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buckyownsmylife · 3 days
Text
out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)
the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show
Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink
WC: 3k
A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.
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Chris’ P.O.V.
I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.
She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.
I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes. 
I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?
Christ. 
Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.
Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.
“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”
Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.
“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”
More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.
“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.
“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.
“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”
Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie. 
“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…
“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.
“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.
“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”
“Who’s first on your list?”
“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.
“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again. 
“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.
“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.
“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”
“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.
“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.” 
“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.
“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”
Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”
The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”
Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.” 
My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.
“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.
“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.
I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.
My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…? 
Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.
“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.
“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.
“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.
“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.
“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”
Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.
“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.
“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival. 
“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.
“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.
“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.
Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.
“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me. 
“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.
I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.
So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N. 
I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants. 
Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.
She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.
“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”
And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.
Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.
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imdead770 · 24 hours
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anything for Luke and a daughter of hecate, ANYTHING FOR THEM......
had to do my research for this one
for context Hecate is the goddess of witchcraft, magic, ghosts, stuff like that. There's probably more but that's what I got from my one minute google search
I kept this kind of fluffy because I wanted to switch it up, I hope that's okay! If you want smut feel free to request again 🩷
Enjoy!
Luke didn't known much about your mother, most people didn't. She was one of the smaller goddesses. Well, not small, she just wasn't as well known as Athena or Aphrodite. He had heard her name a few times around camp, not thinking much of it. He didn't pay much attention to the name until he realized your own name was associated with it. Whenever you came to camp, eventually getting claimed by Hecate, he started to do his research. He started listening if one of the counselors talked about her or reading more thoroughly if he saw her name in a book. He wanted to learn more about her for one reason; to get closer to you.
Once he learned more about her, he started seeing the resemblances between the two of you. Your long, silky dark hair was exactly how some book described your mother, as well as your overall beauty. If Hecate hadn't of claimed you, it probably would have been Aphrodite. It also made sense why you and some of the Hades' kids were close, you were all connected to the dead. Another thing that made you alike, you were magical. Something about you almost made him feel as if he was put under some sort of spell. Every time you walked into a room, smiling and laughing, it was as if you enchanted him. Every time he was the cause of your laughter, he would melt, almost as if you had cursed him to fall in love with you.
He didn't know how, but your godly parent eventually came up in a conversation. And God's had he prepared for this moment.
"Yeah, she can control ghosts and magic n' all that, right?"
All of that research was worth it. The way you looked at him, your face holding one of your signature, beautiful smiles.
"Yeah... she can. How'd you know that?"
"Uh... I dunno, I've just always found her interesting."
He managed to get out that excuse, you seemed to believe it. Your smile only grew, sending butterflies into his stomach again.
As the two of you kept talking, your mother fading away and the conversation becoming more natural, he was all smiles. He was smiling for a few reasons. One being that he was proud of himself for being productive and learning about your mother. The main reason, though, was you. How your lips moved when you talked, your sing-songy voice leaving them as you joked around with him. He hadn't realized he was starring until you pointed it out.
"Luke? Are you okay? You're like zoning out or something."
"Hm?"
He forced himself to look away from your gorgeous smile, meeting your eyes. They looked stunning. The light hit them perfectly, giving them a magical glow as if your mother was casting a spell from Olympus. As if she and Aphrodite were cursing him to fall head over heels in love and not have a single say in it. Once again he was zoning out, gazing into your eyes like a lovestruck fool. He could've mustered up another excuse if he kept his mouth shut. That only confirmed his theory of being cursed.
"You have really pretty eyes, yknow.."
Shit. He didn't even mean to say that, the words just left his lips. Your mother must've hated him. He wanted to go and dive off the dock and never come back up for air. He was about to go do so until you spoke again.
"Yeah..?"
Since he had been looking down like a flustered idiot, he hadn't noticed the way your smile grew after his words. He hadn't noticed the way your eyes lit up, nor the way you were blushing yourself. Not as badly as him, but you were still blushing.
"..Yeah."
He looked back up to meet your eyes again, finally noticing how your smile became a grin. He couldn't help but mimic the expression, it was infectious.
He didn't notice how you had scooted closer, bit he did notice how you leaned in. He noticed how your beautiful eyes softly closed, and he especially noticed how your lips met his. It all happened so fast, but Gods.. it was magical.
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Comfort
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Hi guys!
It was Cata's birthday tuesday, so here is a little something for her :)
It's from a request too, I really need to sort them x)
Also please Barca, win today i need it.
Enjoy!
TW : Lost, angst.
There you are. The first lost of Barcelona for this season. It’s coming at the first moment of the year honestly, you would have preferred to lose against another Spanish team than to lose against Chelsea during the Champion’s league. You still have another game to win and go to the finale, but it would be at London and pretty hard. You already know it.
Looking around you, you saw that all of your teammates are gutted. Lucy is sitting on the ground; Ona went straight to the locker room and Alexia let another players comfort her. For your point, you just stay up where you were when the whistle whistled. Your hand on your hips, you weren’t looking at something special at first.
Until your eyes went on the silhouette of your girlfriend. Cata is sitting on the ground, a little like Lucy unless that she’s leaning against the goal post. Her knees bent against her and her arms surrounding them, she has her eyes fixed on her feet.
She seems so sad that you forget almost immediately your proper sadness. Walking slowly in her direction, you try not to ignore the other people talking to you. When you reach Cata, you kneel in front of her.
“Hey” you say quietly, putting your hand on her arm.
She looks briefly at you, before shaking her head. You know that she feels guilty about the lost, but you think that every single player of the team has that feeling. You don’t say another word, getting on your feet again before helping her to get up too. You don’t want to have to do the post-game interview, so you take another way to go to the locker room.
Of course, the general mood is awful. Nobody’s talking, nobody’s looking at each other. It’s so tense that you propose at Cata to go take a shower at your apartment to go home sooner. Cata agrees with a nod, still not talking. Knowing how much she’s bubbly, happy and smiling usually, it breaks your heart.
You say goodbye to your other teammates, grabbing Cata’s hand to take her with you. Hiding under her hood, she’s still silence. People forget sometimes that she’s only 22 years old, Cata forget sometimes too you think. She’s always way too hard with herself.
You manage to get to your car without meeting fans or journalists, you usually take time to talk with the people coming to see you, but today your girlfriend’s happiness is more important than anything else.
“You want to put some music?” you ask at your girlfriend when you are on your car.
She nods, taking your phone in her hand before looking at something you both will like. You’re not really hard to satisfy honestly, as long as you can concentrate yourself while driving. When Cata put your phone down, you take her hand in yours, squeezing it lovingly.
She looks at you and make a half-smile, which isn’t so bad. You interlink your fingers and take the way of your apartment. Cata doesn’t ask you where you are going and when she realizes that you’re going to yours, she doesn’t protest either.
“Do you want me to cook something?” you ask softly when you’re home.
Cata just shakes her head, sitting on a stool in your kitchen, where she followed you. You put a bottle of her favorite Prime in front of her and try to cross her eyes before talking again.
“Pa amb oli?” you propose.
“With white onions?”
She raises a hopeful look on you and you can’t help but smile. This meal, coming right from her natal island of Mallorca is like her comfort food. You kiss her cheek softly before turning to the fridge to prepare two plates of the dish. You like it too; the first time you try it, it was when Cata took you in Mallorca to meet her family. You loved every single thing coming from this island, maybe because it’s linked with your girlfriend, who you are really fond of.
You are deep in your thought, rubbing the tomato on the bread with an ability that would have made Alexia proud, when you feel Cata’s body against yours. Hiding her face in your neck from behind, she hugs you so tight that you have the impression that she wants to come under your skin. Literally.
You smile and keep cooking, thankfully you don’t need to move a lot around the kitchen for this dish. When you are finished, you turn around in her arms and take her face between your hands. Looking at her with attention, you try to choose wisely your words, not wanting to hurt her. Or make her feel more terrible that she’s feeling right now.
“You know that we didn’t lose because of you, right?”
She frowns, not answering. That’s exactly what you thought. Right after she sights and look away, you softly pat her cheek to drag her attention in you again.
“I’m serious. No one play good today, unless maybe Alessia. We were all too scared to lose, maybe too tired too. We have 90 minutes left. We can win and go to the finale.”
“I don’t think Jona will put me on the goal again” Cata sights, shaking her head.
“Why that?” you frown.
“I didn’t have a clean sheet. In the World Cup when Misa play bad, she went to the bench for the next matches. Vilda didn’t hesitate for a second.”
“Yeah, well first don’t compare that asshole to Jonatan please” you hiss, hating hearing that man’s name. “And if goalkeepers were benched every time, they let a ball pass the net, we won’t have a lot of them on the pitches.”
She shrugs, not really convinced by what you are saying. But you don’t insist, knowing that she needs some time to figure out all of this. You chose to give her plate and follow her wherever she wants to eat. She chose your balcony, from where you have a good view on the sea and the port.
And, when you see that Cata ate her meal in five minutes, your smirk and push your plate in her direction. The goalkeeper raises an interrogator gaze on you before smiling when you signal her that she can finish your plate.
After that, she takes the dishes in the kitchen without hearing your protests that you can help her. Then she comes back, takes you from your chair in her arm, making you squeak in the process. She laughs and you can only smile. You love hearing her laugh.
When she throws you on the sofa, you already know the end of the evening. Endless cuddles in front of TV. She puts Netflix on before laying on top of you. You let her do it, drawing smalls drawing on her skin, under her top.
“I love you” she mumbles out of the blue, several minutes after.
“I love you too” you smile, kissing her head in a weird angle.
She smiles when she sees you doing it, raising herself a little to be able to kiss you right on the lips. She strokes your face with her thumb, and you find yourself blush under her gaze. It’s quite intense but you love it.
“Thank you” she whispers, almost shyly.
“What for?” you ask with curiosity.
“For being you. And have take the time to learn with my mom how to make the perfect Pa amb oli.”
“All the best for the best” you smirk.
She rolls her eyes before kissing you again several times. Just like you were losing some interest in the film you were watching and getting maybe a little too work up, she stops and smirk before laying on you again.
“You’re the worst” you groan.
“Oh? I thought I was the best?”
You can hear her smile in her voice and you roll your eyes. You don’t answer though, but you know that she knows what you think. She’s the best and you are definitively way to in love with her to be mad at her.
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sqvishii · 2 days
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Hi, so sorry to bother you again, I wanted to apologize for not fulfilling the conditions of your requests (I asked for one-shot's) and I think when I met your account I read how Silver would be as a father and I would like to ask for some HC's of Silver being your husband. There are not so many writings dedicated to Silver that make me fantasize with so many ideas and your way of writing is complete and has an essence that is very attractive to me. Obviously I don't want you to feel frustrated in accepting my request. Have a nice day!
AWW UR SO SWEET IM GONAN CRY I WILL PICK YOU UP IN MY ARMS AND SWALLOW YOU AFFECTIONALLY AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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hcs of being silver's wife/husband/spouse.. i.. :3
"[name], how do you feel having such a sleepy husband?"
having silver vanrouge as your husband meant that you had a lot to unpack about him
he promises you that he won't let anyone hurt you during your first month of being married, after a few years, its obvious he kept that promise
he tries his best to not fall asleep much now that he wants to see you, feel your presence- its a bit obvious your sleepy husband loves you a lot
he'd train you to protect yourself if you ask him to do so, he wouldn't want to force anything upon you
cuddles. every single damn day this man will NEVER let you go whenever you guys are asleep together
a lot of hand/forehead kisses, the lip kisses he gives are the ones when the both of you are going to sleep or he has to leave for a few or more minutes
loves it whenever you run your fingers through his hair. idk that just sparked in me
you guys are parents to furbabies. yes, furbabIES. and a single bird :3
would go on horse rides with you, enjoying the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist before you realize he was fucking sleeping during the entire ride, nrc club times really took a toll on him LMAOO
hes so gentle with you, always curious on what you're doing and prioritizes your safety over his
before you guys sleep, after you guys do the nightly lip kiss and go to bed, its either you're humming or he is. you guys take turns probably
whenever there's someone hitting on him, he's polite and respectful; telling them he has a wife/husband/spouse, but if they keep on pestering him?
if you're there, you see he's basically asking for your permission if it was alright to be a bit more firm and straightforward with the person and if he could have you by his side as proof you are his partner
if you arent there, he pulls out his phone and shows various photos of you and or pictures of you and him together, ESPECIALLY the ones you guys took during your wedding before he leaves the stranger once they apologize for hitting on him
BUT IF SOMEONES HITTING ON YOU?? THATS A DIFFERENT STORY
once he sees you looking uncomfortable for even a second, he's already by your side, holding you close and he looks at the person hitting on you before asking you what's happening
his responses are different each time this happens, "come now, let's get back home." "was that person making you uncomfortable?" etc, etc.
in the end of the day, you guys hold hands and spend the rest of the day staying close together
please love him :c
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Hiya! First of all your blog’s interface is so cute i’m rolling on the floorrrrrrr
Second of all your writing is absolutely amazing, i’ve just finished reading “the pizza delivery girl’s survival guide to gotham city” and lemme tell u i can’t wait for the next chapter cause absolute gold-
I wanted to ask what your thoughts are on Jason and day-to-day life outside of costume. Like, dude HAS to go outside as himself at least every once in a while, out of pure necessity. How do you think he goes on about it?
Aw, thank you, I'm glad you like my blog interface and my fic. I think it depends on how much he's progressed in processing his trauma, to be honest!
I imagine when he first moved back in Gotham, he avoided going out as much as possible, for a multitude of reasons. First, because he was still reeling emotionally from Bruce enacting project Knightfall (aka faking his own death), he was recovering from the injuries he sustained during the events of Arkham Knight (and of course, the injuries he got from the Joker). Most importantly, he is adjusting to living in a city he once hated enough to want to destroy.
I feel like those first few weeks were painful for him. Every place is filled memories, and while not all of them are bad memories, they often feel too painful to revisit. He likely spent most of his time cooped up in a safehouse (which was established as something he makes no effort to make comfortable), only going out when he absolutely had to. Interacting with the city and its people as little as possible. While I don't think the Joker ever meant him to survive his torture, the amount of scars and physical injuries he bears means that a lot of his interactions bring a lot of (misplaced) guilt and shame. Did that shopkeep spend too long looking at his face, his scar? Maybe he'll pass by some hole-in-the-wall shop and remember that he and Dick and Barbara would cool down there after patrols. The ramen, he'll think, is surprisingly good. The owner is a smiling, heavyset man who insists that they never pay for their meals. Maybe he'll even take a single step toward the shop, only to remember that the scars on his hands make it so it's hard to hold cutlery without shaking. That there are days when it's physically painful to eat. And he'll shake his head and walk away.
But I think the more he interacts with PG in the story and the more he fixes his relationship with his family, the more he'll be able to interact with Gotham City. Maybe going to the grocery won't be treated like a military supply run. Maybe he'll look up from his carefully-curated list and realize a type of candy Barbara used to be obsessed with is back in stock now. Maybe he'll put it in his cart, and for the first time in a while, he doesn't have to think about what he did to her as the Arkham Knight. One day, he'll wake up before his alarm and remember that you used to talk about watching the sun rise over Gotham Bay. He'll take a long walk along the shoreline and watch the way the sky turns into soft shades of pink and orange, and he'll be surprised at the realization that there are still beautiful things in Gotham. Maybe your face will flash in his mind, and he'll think that perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised, after all. Maybe one day, after a long night of patrol, he'll pass by the ramen shop again and this time, he decides to stay. The only thing that has changed is the owner, who's gained weight and a few gray hairs, but his smile is still the same. He'll bring Jason's order without asking, and he'll insist that he doesn't have to pay for it. Eating doesn't hurt as much as he feared. In fact, some days, he can move his hands without feeling pain. This is one of the good days. Maybe on that good day, he'll be surprised to find that the ramen is still good. That he can think of the days he used to stay here with his family after patrols, exchanging combat tips and juicy bits of gossip. And this time, he's able to smile.
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half-bakedboy · 2 days
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one hell of a story
For @bucktommyweek prompt: alternate first meeting | 1.4k | Teen
Tommy's not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot. He owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor, which is how he finds himself trying to land a failing helicopter in the middle of a baseball field. Unfortunately, he fails. But he meets Evan in the process, so it's worth it.
read on ao3 or under the cut
“This is Taylor Kelly with your morning traffic update… and we are going down!”
----
Tommy isn’t even supposed to be here. He’s not usually one to fly for anyone but LAFD and himself, but the Skywitness News Eight helicopter desperately needed a pilot and he owed his old army buddy, Trent, a favor. Tommy was too kind to tell him to fuck off, though, he’s pretty sure those two words will leave his mouth the next time he sees Trent’s face. 
“Tommy, what’s going on?” Taylor shouts. She’s holding onto the seat belt around her like her life depends on it—and it does, but Tommy isn’t about to tell her that. 
“Some kind of engine malfunction. Does Trent keep this thing in good condition?” Tommy asks. 
“How am I supposed to know?!” He really hoped for a more confidence-inducing answer. “I’m pretty sure he likes this thing more than me if that says anything!” 
“It does,” Tommy mutters, though he knows Taylor can hear him through the radio. Trent always talked about his crush on the redhead and how he would drop everything if she agreed to date him. Unfortunately, Tommy now knows he’s not exactly her type—no man is—so he thinks he’ll have to break the news sooner rather than later. 
“Are we falling?! Why does it feel like we’re falling?!” Taylor screams, panicked gasps following in quick succession. 
“I’m going to do my best to land, okay? There’s a baseball field below us, and if all goes to plan, we’ll land safely and you’ll have one hell of a story,” Tommy relays. 
Taylor laughs humorlessly into the radio. “And if it doesn’t?” 
“It’ll still be one hell of a story,” he declares. 
Then he focuses on saving their lives. 
The baseball field is immense and empty enough that he doesn’t have to worry about collateral damage from the landing, but he realizes quickly it won’t be that easy. Every single control he usually manipulates with ease shakes under his grip, and no matter how much pressure he puts on the cyclic, there’s no tilting his way in the right direction. 
He gets the machine as close to the ground as possible and prays that’s enough. 
All he remembers is the blades getting louder, a metallic screeching, and a terror-filled shriek, then everything goes dark. 
“Tommy? Can you hear me?” 
“I think he’s coming to!” 
“Kinard, open those baby blues for us!” 
When Tommy blinks to consciousness, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. 
“Nope, just crashed a helicopter,” an unfamiliar voice says. He sees the blur of a few hands reaching out to slap the man, and when he follows the arms, he thinks he must be dreaming. 
“Wilson? Han?” Tommy’s voice is almost hoarse and he wonders how terrified Taylor was of his warning screams��
Taylor. 
He jolts up as best as he can but Hen and Chimney hold him down before he can go too far. The pain that radiates through his chest knocks the breath out of him and he falls horizontal once more, clutching his stomach in pain. He breathes quickly and shallowly, as any attempts to fill his lungs result in sharp twinges of pain. Someone he doesn’t recognize—the voice from before—places an oxygen mask over his face. 
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her,” the man soothes. Tommy likes the sound of his voice. He stops trying to escape his old teammates’ grasp and instead, angles his head back to connect eyes with the unknown man. 
He’s a boy, really. Looks at least a decade younger than Tommy, but that doesn’t stop the rush of attraction that seeps through him. The man’s hair is mussed up like someone has run their hands through it—Tommy wants to run his hands through it—and he’s wearing his turnout coat unbuttoned like the picture of casuality. Tommy’s not sure he’s ever seen someone wear the uniform with such confidence and such… sweetness. He’s squinting his eyes from the sun though Tommy still notices a few small pink patches surrounding his eyebrow that match the color of his unfairly kissable lips. 
“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hen decides. Tommy knows he’s been caught when he recognizes the sarcasm in her voice. Hen’s always been an observant one. He can practically hear her eyes roll as she makes quick introductions. “Tommy, this is Evan Buckley. Buck, Tommy Kinard.”
“From Air Ops,” Evan says eagerly. Tommy’s stomach flips at the acknowledgment. How has he never heard of Evan before? “What are you doing flying with Taylor Kelly?”
“Slumming it with Skywitness Traffic, Tommy? I can’t believe I saved your life for this,” Chimney teases. Tommy smacks him on his nearest body part and takes the oxygen mask off of his face. 
As if on instinct, Evan reaches to put it back, and their hands brush and linger. 
Tommy hates to be cliche, but they’re lucky the ambulance doesn’t blow up when the sparks fly through the flowing oxygen. Actually, being touched by Evan Buckley seems like a hell of a way to go…
“Was helping out an old army friend,” Tommy explains. “Can’t let L.A. fall subject to bad traffic patterns, can I?” 
Evan laughs, and Tommy’s stomach does a weird fluttering he hasn’t felt in ages. 
“Guess you regret that favor, huh?” Chimney jokes. 
“Not anymore,” Tommy mutters just loud enough for Evan to hear. 
Tommy makes sure to maintain eye contact and only barely stops himself from winking at the poor kid. He’s blushing like crazy, redness spreading up from underneath his high neckline and overtaking his adorable cheeks. From the stillness around them, Tommy doesn’t think this is usual behavior, and he can’t help but feel a little satisfied about that. He chances a glance at Hen and Chimney who are both staring at Evan like he’s lost his damn mind. It takes everything in Tommy not to giggle—both because of embarrassment and the fact he might actually pass out from pain if he does.
“So, what’s the verdict, Evan?” Tommy asks.
The adorable man blinks a few times before glancing up at Hen and Chimney, who Tommy is very aware are the ones with the answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Hen gesturing for Evan to answer himself. 
“U-Um, I’m sure you feel ten-tenderness in your ribs so that’s… gotta be looked at.” Evan shakes his head like he’s all too aware of his stammering, but Tommy couldn’t be more smitten. “You lost consciousness so H-Hen—she checked for any issues with your eyes but nothing abnormal. How’s your head?” 
Without thinking, Tommy replies, “Would you like to find out?” 
There’s a chorus of: “Tommy!” “Get a room!” “Jesus Christ!” “Oh my god!” 
All of which are ignored by both of them. 
Instead, Evan tilts his head and smiles—it would’ve knocked Tommy off his feet if he were standing. 
“I think I just might,” Evan agrees. 
“Oh, you two are made for each other,” Hen turns toward Chimney, “how did we not see that?”
“Buck likes guys?!” Chimney says instead. Evan blushes even deeper and Tommy’s glad that he’s not on a heart monitor for all to see it skip a beat. “No, I’m done with this. To answer your question, Tommy, you may have an acute head injury and you definitely have some broken ribs. We’ve gotta get you to the hospital so if you’re done flirting…” 
“What if I’m not?” Tommy argues, just to rile Chimney up a little more. Tommy always enjoyed that—misses it, really. “What if I want to see Evan blush a little more?” 
“Oh my god,” Buck mumbles. He hides his face in his hands, but Tommy can still see the smile lines between the cracks in his fingers. “Hen, get him out of here.” 
“Got it, Buckaroo,” she agrees, shrugging at Tommy playfully. 
“I didn’t get your number!” Tommy shouts as best as he can with presumably broken ribs. He knows they’ll hurt a lot more the second he focuses on them, but how can he focus on anything but Evan? 
“118.” 
With that, Hen shuts the doors and Tommy sighs the happiest sigh he can muster. 
“Oh, he’s—” Tommy doesn’t even have the words, but Hen seems to understand.
“You’re in trou-ble, Kinard.” She clicks her tongue. 
And Tommy’s never been so excited by the prospect. 
(Chimney derails any further conversation with a line of consciousness that starts with, “Okay, since when do both Tommy and Buck like men?! How did I miss this?!”) 
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Here we go again
Hi gang. I'm back on my Chris-Get's-Healthy kick, again. I know I've talked about this and asked for your help in the past. I am once again attempting to quit sugar and work out more.
If you have offered me advice in the past and are tired of my requests, yet again, for advice and ideas, I understand. I get it. Believe me, no one is more tired of my bullshit and my inability to stick to a regimen and make the healthy choices than I am.
This last time I was derailed by my mom's illness and death. I just did not have the mental space or physical energy to commit to disciplined nutritional choices and consistent work outs while taking care of her. But the reasons don't really matter because there were excuses before this one, and on and on. I have been starting and giving up on, healthy living routines since I was 18 years old. Let's do the math, that's 30 years!
A little background: I am not a yo-yo dieter. I very slowly put on weight starting with my first desk job at 20 and never dropped it. The weight has never bothered me. I am a confident woman who has never needed to fit into a six 6. I am also single by choice and nothing in the last 30 years has given me a reason to change my mind about this.
This situation now is that I'm looking hard at 50 and the little aches and pains: the trick knee, the occasional sciatica, the feet that get a little too sore too soon, are, I feel, all red flags signaling that hitting snooze on my health is no longer an option.
I truly believe that fitness and nutritional eating are not only the key to staying fit and active, but I think if I just commit and get through those first few tough months, I would actually like it.
Lately I've been drinking my Dr. Pepper and eating my high-calorie cheesy pasta and lots of sourdough bread (all my favorites), but they just haven't been as satisfying as they once were. [Sidebar: I realize some of this could be residual depression and grief making life just not as wonderful as it once was. That will take time.]
Mostly, I'm just tired of giving the "I have got to get my health in order" thoughts the mental real estate in my brain. I need to deal with it so I can move on from it. So it is not such big part of my daily thoughts.
My long-winded and self-indulgent post here is just to ask once again - and I swear for the last time - what do you all find works for you as far as fitness and nutrition goes? My fitness goals are:
to get stronger and improve flexibility and mobility while protecting the joints and ligaments
staving off osteoporosis
alleviating some peri-menopause symptoms
My nutrition goals are:
to kick the sugar addiction once and for all and change my palate so I don't crave sweet things so much
prevent diabetes/heart disease, etc. before they start
improving gut health
I welcome all comments and advice, and that includes the tough-love "girl, you have got to get your shit together!"
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amatorygirls · 2 days
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GtN and HtN spoilers!! CW: talk of not having control over your body
just randomly thought of this now so excuse my incoherentness or possible ignorance or if anyone has said this before (this is also my first ever tumblr post so sorry for formatting errors), but i was looking at fanart of cytherea the first and just loving it. i realized there’s just something so baroque about her, and i think that’s on purpose. because she’s of the 7th house yes, the emperor’s joy and all that, but also because she’s a woman, and also because she’s dying. she’s expected to be beautiful because of her affiliation and her gender, all while she’s decaying from a disease that she was doomed to be born with and could never escape until it ultimately killed her. wilting away infront of everyone. and the ENTIRE time, she was given roses. roses, the pinnacle of beauty. every single rose she was given had a meaning, a life. and every single rose died. inevitably, wilting away infront of her. reminding her of her own fragile, ‘beautiful’ self. and even after she was dead, she was laid to rest drowned in roses that were modified to stay perpetually fresh, along with her body (i think) ((which of course john would do, after reading nona i’m not surprised)). not even eternally asleep could she catch a break. i think tamsyn muir was saying something here about how the ‘ideal woman is a dead one’. she is silent, still, and malleable. that’s what she pretended to be in canaan house. but i don’t think she ever could truly be. she was too angry. too enraged. also the fact that she became a lyctor in hopes she could be cured but just ended up suffering in a stagnant state of sickness for thousands of years, the fact that she was purposely given this disease. the fact that john LIED. lied to everyone. lied to HER. before her life, during her life, and after her life, things were done to her body without her informed consent. her cancer being almost prophetic, her unknowing improper lyctoral ascension, and the possesion of her empty shell of a body. (also it being used as a medium for pyrrha and wake is a whole other thing) she IS the rage of not having control over your own body. i think, ultimatley, that’s what her character is about. i mean, i’m pretty sure harrow stabbing The Sword™️ INSIDE her unwilling corpse was probably a metaphor or something…
“we take so much. i’m so sorry.”
(again i just thought of this thirty minutes ago so feel free to add anything 🙏) ((i also wonder how this parallels dulcinea and her life but it’s 1 am and i don’t feel like thinking anymore. but i think we’ll learn more about her in alecto.))
the art that inspired this was a beautiful cytherea and harrow drawing by pygmypouter on tumblr!
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