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#we’re not even half way thru it i-
morganbritton132 · 9 months
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I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???
I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)
I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.
Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”
Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”
Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.
The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.
Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  
“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”
Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.
Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.
So, he knows.
He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.
There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.
Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.
He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!
It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.
 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.
Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”
“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”
Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”
“That happened one time!”
Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”
“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”
“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.
“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.
“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”
“Technically, I married him.”
“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”
“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
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finsplurtz · 3 months
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nobody’s home — choso.kamo
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— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo
— contents : step-cest , touching w/o consent uh oh , Choso tries to tell yn to stop but gives in bc he loves the feeling , handjob , biting n hickeys , mention of virginity loss n Choso does cry abt it , does change his mind abt it nd ends up rlly liking it , praises n degrading lolll
warnings : step cest obv , maybe.. r4pe implications not sure wtv
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✩°。 ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
Choso’s mother had divorced his father and she found a boyfriend who already had a kid.
The first time they met was … interesting. He got home from hanging out with some friends, he greeted his mom and step-dad, went into the bathroom and quickly backed out closing the door.
He covered his face, he had walked in to some guy shirtless in the bathroom. He went to ask his mom and she told him that, yn, was his new younger brother.
When they saw each other after that he apologized.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to you know…” yn smirked checking the guy out while he wasn’t looking.
“It’s cool, we’re both guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about” He flashed a smile before leaving to his room.
Yn was younger than Choso by 3-4 years.
Choso definitely caught onto the subtle hints that yn was throwing his way. Yn would sometimes invite him to watch a movie or something, he’d get super cuddly and touchy.. like have his arm wrapped around his waist or have his hand slowly massage his thigh.
Sometimes when they’d be out yn would insist on buying Choso a drink, or even smoking together or something, but he always found a way to make it sound intimate.
Maybe Choso was going crazy.. maybe yn was just really trying to have a nice sibling bonding moment and Choso was taking it the wrong way..
Okay enough of turning yn’s offers down, he definitely just wants to be close brothers.
“Hey, ‘oso. Mom and dad wanted to ask you something” yn popped into Choso’s room and went over to sit on his bed and handed him the phone. Usually his parents called on yn’s phone, since sometimes Choso doesn’t answer cs he’s busy studying or sleeping.
“Hey hon, just wanted to let you know we won’t be home till very late! It’s our 1 year anniversary and we have a lot planned” Choso hummed while yn took whatever book Choso was reading and skimming thru it.
He sighed and put the book back. Gently pulled Choso down towards the bed and cuddled him. Choso was still listening to his mom talk and talk but he wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding in his chest.
yn had his leg over Choso’s waist and arm over his chest. Choso could feel yn’s warm breath on his neck, his lips were an inch away from Cho’s skin.
Finally his mom ended the call and Choso was frozen.
“…uh…here’s your phone..” He said.
“Just put it on the counter or something” yn said in a low voice right under Choso’s ear. “….what are u doing”
“…nobody’s home, oso..~” Choso could practically hear yn’s smirk.
“Have you ever touched a guy..?” his hand gently massaged over Choso’s chest.
“…n-no…yn I- I don’t think this is…” Choso pushed yn’s arm away and managed to sit up.
“Mm..awww cmon.. we’re alone, nobody can walk in on us..” yn looked at his half brother with low eyes.
“S..still it’s just..w-wrong—“ Choso flinched when he felt yn tightly wrap his arm around Choso’s waist to keep him from squirming and dug his hands into Choso’s pants.
“y-yn..?! S..stop I don’t…!” His breath hitched when yn began to stroke him. Choso’s nails were digging into yn’s arm trying to squirm away or something. yn rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and continued to fap him.
“Ngh..! Mhhnn…~ s….stop..” Choso was panting and subconsciously grinding his hips into his brothers hand. He threw his head back exposing his neck, yn saw the opportunity and began to kiss and suck on Choso’s pale skin.
“Ahh~ f..fuck…~” Choso’s grip on yn’s arm loosened and he brought one hand up to cover his mouth.
“See…you love it, don’t you…~” yn whispered into the ravenette’s ear. Choso just whined, he didn’t really care anymore. Plus yn had a point, nobody would ever catch them doing this. It’s not like they were even related…
yn sped up his pace and stroked faster while sinking his sharp teeth into Choso’s neck.
“Ah- ah I’m gonna c..come—“ Choso gasped and grabbed onto yn’s hair tightly as he came and made a mess in his briefs. “Fuuuckk…s..so good~” He whimpered as his dick twitched in yn’s hand.
yn slid his arm off Choso’s waist and pulled his pants off along with his underwear. He easily lied him down on the bed and used the finger that had his cum on it to finger him.
“..nnnyooo…d..don’t….” Choso was too dizzy to put up a fight anymore. He just let out more moans and cries when yn found his prostate and massaged his fingers over it.
yn stroked himself, he loved the view. Choso’s pretty little hole being slowly opened by his fingers, just ready to take his cock..
yn pulls his fingers out and quickly pushed himself into Choso earning a gasp and whine from him.
“S-shit..! Y..you…” Choso felt tears welling up in his eyes, he wasn’t sure how to feel….
yn noticed and rolled his eyes. He leaned down to kiss Choso’s cheek.
“Don’t worry….your brother is gonna make you feel good..~” Choso blushed and screamed when said brother began to roughly thrust into him hitting him right in his g spot.
“UGHN-! F-FUCK TOO MUCH..!”Choso felt a tad bit overstimulated, but fuck did it feel good.
“Aww..look at you just taking my cock so well, hm?~ you love it…you love how well your little brother stuffs you, don’t you, prince..~” Choso moaned at yn’s dirty talk, he was so into this. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want it to ever stop.
“Right, Choso..?” He loved how his name sounded in yn’s mouth, he let out a slutty moan and smiled as best as he could.
“Mm..hm..~!” yn smirked and began to kiss Choso’s shoulder and back.
“Such a good little slut..” yn felt himself get close and stuttered in his thrusts.
Choso felt his second orgasm nearing, he gripped the sheets and stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes back.
“You’re all mine…my stupid toy..just for me to fuck, m…mkay..~?” Yn said into Choso’s ears pushing him over the edge.
“Mhnn-!!” Choso bit his tongue as he came one more time making a mess of his sheets. A smile creeped on his face at the feeling of yn’s hot semen coat his warm mushy walls in white.
They were both catching their breaths and yn sat up and slick his hair back looking at the art he ..
“……I…I’m sorry, cho’…” He pulled out and turned Choso on his back who just looked at him. Choso had drool and tear stains on his face, his lips red from biting them.
“I’m…so sorry..” The regret sitting in the pit of yn’s stomach. It quickly left when Choso pulled him down by his neck into a warm embrace.
“..’m your stupid toy…” Choso whispered smiling to himself. He didn’t regret this.
Yn sighed and returned the hug.
“..sure”
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a/n ; I’ve always hated anything like step cest or inc*st it’s yuck but idk Choso being so big brother n shi kinda possessed me into writing this sorry xx
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utvarpcity · 2 years
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ok lmao i’m done. should’ve been halfway between hamburg and frankfurt at this point but i’m not even in hamburg yet
#like the journey thru denmark was so smooth! and quick! and absolutely no trains in the way bc the countryside’s like. empty#but then we reached the german border and had to sit there for an HOUR waiting for the german crew to arrive bc they were late#for some reason#and then it didn’t go all the way to hamburg so we had to get a train between pinneberg->hamburg-altona and from there#i hopped on the next train heading for frankfurt but were stuck not even making it to hamburg hbf yet and it’s been half an hour..#PLUS THE TICKET COST ME ANOTHER 100 EUROS BIH WHAT THE FUCK#you can get a refund i think? but it looks super confusing like you have to print a form out and have some train staff sign it??#and then send it to their head office and hope they accept it and give you ‘compensation’ which idk what it means bc#it seems like you can’t get a monetary refund to ur bank account if you’re travelling internationally so idk??#i’m kind of pissed off and i’ll have to contact the hotel and tell them i’ll be late and also will probably miss most (if not all) of esc#also it’s required by law to wear a ffp2 mask at the train in germany so my ears and nose hurt at this point#i’ve got a pig like nose that points upwards so it gets pushed down when i wear this type of mask#not with the normal flat ones i usually wear! but with these it does#like i’m vaccinated 3 with doses and tested and i’m literally covid-free and i have proof. feels like that’s a better measure than masks#esp since everyone wasn’t wearing any masks as long as the train was in denmark so lmao how big of a difference will it make to#have everyone put on one once we’re over the german border??? lol
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southpawbitch · 7 months
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One More Night | Jake Seresin x Reader
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(18+, minors dni)
word count: 3.1k
summary: a surprise wedding forces you and jake to pretend like everything is fine
warnings: drinking (that's mostly it), mention of parental death, aruguing, this is...sad
A/N: my first one shot!!! how?? idk. I have so many of these sitting in my google drive, so I'm going to start making my way thru them. pls let me know what you think :) x MJ
You have your whole speech planned out, running over it in your head again and again as you wait at the bar of your favorite spot for after work drinks with Nat, the best friend and coworker you could’ve ever asked for when you were first stationed here a while back. So much has changed since then–you, mainly. You were so young when you arrived here, and so full of optimism. You knew what you wanted out of life, and you were determined to get it. Meeting Jake was the cream cheese icing on top of it all–your favorite. Despite his hard exterior and asshole tendencies, he warmed up to you immediately. The teasing nicknames and playful jabs turned into inside jokes and private chats away from the rest of the group, which turned into something you had only ever dreamed of. You’re not sure which one of you fell in love first, but you’re certain you fell harder. Five years later, and it’s hard to even recognize who the two of you are anymore. Somewhere along the way you must have turned into someone new. 
You pick up the glass sitting in front of the seat you’ve saved for her, downing it as fast as you possibly can. You’ve been waiting for longer than usual, and you’re anxious as hell to tell her the news. Your palms are so sweaty that you had to ask the bartender for extra napkins just to keep them dry enough for the glass to not slip out of your hands. You tap the screen of your phone that lays face up. It’s fifteen minutes past when she said she’d be here. You have a plethora of notifications. You haven’t opened your work friends group chat since Monday. In fact, you’ve barely done anything outside of work until today. You go to base in the mornings and get all your tasks for the day completed before you drive back to your empty house, drink half a bottle of wine, and fall asleep on the sofa. Your neck should ache from the awkward position you find yourself in every morning, but you’re too numb to feel anything–even the buzz from the two cocktails you’ve had in the past twenty minutes. 
 A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You turn slowly, preparing yourself for the conversation you know you’re about to have with her, but instead of coming face to face with just one person, you’re met with two. Nat and Javy are grinning from ear to ear, bouncing on their feet and clinging to each other.
“We’re engaged!” She squeals, throwing her left hand out towards you. You clumsily grab onto her hand, staring at the rock on her ring finger as your mind spins. You’re happy for her, completely and utterly happy for her, but your life as you knew it just last week is now crumbling down around you. Tears prick at your eyes, and you attempt to hide the sadness in your voice. 
“It’s beautiful, oh my god, guys!” You push off the stool and wrap your arms around Nat’s neck. “I’m so happy for you.” You pull away with your best fake smile and teary eyes. She’s having the same reaction now. You’ve never seen her happier, which takes some of the weight off your shoulders. She’s too happy to notice the two empty glasses sitting on the counter next to you or your bleeding nail beds from days of anxious picking. She can’t tell that your hair pulled back into a claw clip is greasy because you haven’t had the energy to wash it for the past few days, or that the small locket you used to wear around your neck isn’t there anymore. 
“Do you want to get a table or–”
“We can’t wait!” Nat blurts out, looking up at Javy with a grin that’s practically stretching across her whole face. “We’re flying to Vegas tonight, and Jake is already in the car. Let’s go!” She leans over and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the doors before you can even react. Jake’s dark gray Jeep is sitting right outside the building. Nat lets go of your hand to slide in the back seat with Javy, leaving you to take your spot up front. You take a breath and open the door, avoiding eye contact as you settle into the seat and buckle up. The last time you were in his car was last Friday after a particularly wonderful dinner. You felt great after having a few glasses of wine, just tipsy enough to be talking nonstop on the way home.
“I saw that blue house on Laurel is for sale. Maybe we could go to the open house on Sunday.” You suggest, smiling softly as you turn your head to face Jake as he’s driving. Your head is leaned up against the headrest lazily. He keeps his gaze on the road ahead. It’s dark, so you can’t see much except the outline of his features. 
“All the way out in Escondido?” He questions, furrowing his brow as if he doesn’t remember the beautiful home out in the suburbs that reminds you of your childhood home on Cape Cod. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you stumbled across the gorgeous house with East Coast architecture last year. You decided then that it had to be yours. The pictures on Zillow of the interior are incredible, too. Four bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, and the most luscious, tree-filled yard that you’ve ever seen in Southern California. It’s perfect.
“Yeah, you know the one that looks like the beach house.” You remind him. Jake’s been to your parents’ place a few times, but you don’t get out there often. You’ve only been to his parents’ ranch in Texas one singular time in the five years you’ve been dating. Everyone’s just so busy with their own things. His sisters have kids and his parents go on more vacations in a year than you’ve been on in your entire life. Everyone’s happy, it seems, and the two of you are satisfied with your life out here. 
“We can’t buy a house, babe.” He looks over and sees your small pout. It’s cute, but he’s firm in his thoughts on the topic. “Because, okay, what…we buy a house, and then we get married, and have kids and turn into those people we never wanted to be.” His words cut a little too deep. When you first got together, sure, you thought that way. You hated what everyone turned into once they got married and had kids and other commitments. You two never wanted to be boring. You’re the couple that’s closing down the bar every Saturday night and pregaming work parties–not the kind of couple that doesn’t want to get out once they’re already at home. In fact, you’re barely at your condo as it is. 
But somewhere along the way you changed your mind, and you thought that maybe he’d had done the same.
“We don’t have to turn into those people, but we’re not getting any younger, Jake, and my biological clock is unfortunately ticking.” You sigh, turning your head to look out the window instead of at him. “I know I’ve never really cared about having kids, but I don’t know…I think I want them with you.”
Jake’s silence is more than enough to tell you that he doesn’t feel the same–that he hasn’t changed his mind at all. A tear falls down your cheek as the drive back to your shared condo continues. The realization that you want different things hits you hard. You and Jake have never been ones to fight. There won’t be any screaming or arguing or blaming. It almost makes it worse–that there’s nothing worth fighting for. That maybe you aren’t worth fighting for.
You cry the whole way home and he knows. He knows it’s over. He also knows he’s not going to change his mind, and he doesn’t expect you to, either. He feels a little blindsighted by your confession, but he knows he should’ve seen it coming. You’re always on Zillow, looking at houses that have been put up for sale in the area, and every time you’re out shopping, you’ll point out how tiny and cute the baby clothes are. You’ve been changing slowly but surely over the past year since your father passed away, but Jake’s own family issues are what made up his mind about marriage and kids many years ago–before he even met you. Before he fell in love with you. Before he would’ve done anything and everything to make you happy, but he knows he can’t do this. It’s just not a promise he can make. 
Two hours later, you’re standing next to Jake in a short, black dress, holding a small bouquet of tulips from the flower shop next door. He’s wearing black pants and a white shirt. His hands are tucked in his pockets as the two of you stand off to the side while Nat and Javy exchange vows. They’re both teary-eyed and giggly and you remember being that happy with Jake not that long ago.
When you first met them, they would hardly speak to each other, but over time, much like you and Jake, they became one. Nat never thought she’d ever get into anything serious, especially with a coworker, but Javy rocked her world for the better. The two of them claim they have you and Jake to thank for the night that everything changed for them. The two of you threw a Halloween party for all your friends the first year you two lived together, and you may or may not have locked them outside to “make up” after a stupid argument over the game of beer pong that was being played. Maybe it was the full moon or the tight outfit that Nat was wearing, but Javy confessed that he had feelings for her, and well, the rest is history. 
They’re holding hands and staring at each other with complete and utter adoration–they haven’t looked over at you or Jake once the entire time. They’re so in love. It makes you wonder how long it’s been since Jake has felt that way towards you. The way he stands next to you now is cold, as if you’re two strangers who don’t know a thing about each other, despite having lived together up until a week ago.
When Javy and Nat kiss, you feel a genuine smile spread across your face, clapping along with the officiant, and Jake, as they pull away and make their way over to you. The chapel photographer is snapping pics like crazy and before you know it, Nat is forcing you and Jake to embrace each other for a picture. His arm snakes around your waist, resting on the top of your thigh and pulling you close. You lean in, take a deep breath, smile, and just as quickly as his arm was around you, it’s gone.
“How are you doing?” He asks casually as the two of you stand at the bar together on a joint mission to order drinks and shots while Nat and Javy grope each other in the booth. He knows you could be doing better. When he walked in the house for the first time in almost a week, it felt different. Stained wine glasses and empty bottles were sitting on the coffee table, and the fuzzy blanket you only get out of storage for the holidays was thrown across the couch haphazardly. While you were changing into your dress, he opened the fridge to find it empty. His favorite beers were really the only thing in there. 
He walked into the bedroom and stared at the half-made bed curiously. It looked the exact same as it did when he was in here packing a bag of things to take to the hotel last Saturday–almost like you haven’t been sleeping in it. You stepped out of the closet in his favorite dress of yours. The one you wore for your most recent anniversary dinner. You walked past him without saying a word, and he followed you back out to the car. Your friends didn’t suspect a thing. 
“We don’t have to do this.” You say, turning your attention towards him. He looks more tired than you originally thought when you saw him earlier. The bags under his eyes tell you he hasn’t been sleeping well. You haven’t been, either. “Not right now, at least.” You say softly, turning to look at your friends over in the corner. Jake follows your gaze and lets out a sigh, not that you can hear it in this rowdy bar. “You take those, I’ll wait for the shots.” You instruct, pushing the drinks over to him. He doesn’t want to argue, so he nods his head and takes them back to the table while you wait.
“We have something to tell you guys.” Javy says nervously after all the alcohol has been consumed and you’re uncomfortably leaning on Jake in an attempt to act like you’re still together. His arm is practically stuck around your shoulder–unmoving. It’s natural for the two of you to fall back into your old habits because it’s only been a week and no one even knows about the break up, but you feel uncomfortable pretending that you’re happy. You feel Jake shift his body and nod his head, urging his friend to keep going. “We’re moving to Virginia Beach.” 
Jake furrows his eyebrows. Javy has been dead set on retiring in Southern California for years. Him and Nat even joked about opening up a surf shop when they’re a little older. 
“I know I always said I’d die in San Diego with you, J.” He smiles down at his wife as she’s looking up to him lovingly. “But Natasha wants to be close to her parents in D.C., and we can’t both get what we want.” He doesn’t sound bitter in the slightest as he speaks. He sounds happy. “We just wanted to let you guys know before we turn in our transfer papers.”
“We’re so glad the two of you came. It’s been such a crazy night, and we don’t want to end on a downer, so…” Nat perks up, standing up from her seat and pulling you out onto the dance floor where a large group of people are dancing. You laugh and smile, hiding the fact that Javy’s words are still burned into your brain. He’s right. You and Jake both can’t get what you want, and maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the true testament of love–sacrifice. You feel a little lighter as you dance with your best friend, enjoying your time together while you still have it, and when it’s time to part ways in the hotel hallway, you pull Jake into yours quickly, letting the door slam behind you. 
Your lips connect and it feels like the first time all over again. You’re all over each other like it’s been months–like that one time you were sent to Italy for eight weeks, and Jake couldn’t find the time to visit. These past seven days since your breakup has been the longest you’ve spent apart other than those eight weeks. Jake fumbles with his fingers trying to unzip your dress while keeping his lips attached to yours. You can feel the fire and the passion better than you have in months. 
You don’t want this moment to end, but you want to get everything off your chest that you’ve been thinking of since you left the bar. It’s going to eat at you until you do, so you break away from Jake, breathing heavily as you look up to him. You can feel his hard length pressed against your leg, pinning you to the wall. He looks down at you and cocks an eyebrow, wondering if you’re now regretting what the two of you are doing. 
“I don’t want this to be it–I don’t want to lose you. Javy was right, Jake. We can’t both get our way, so if you don’t want the house and the kids, that’s fine. As long as you still want me.” Your voice is hopeful, and you’re surprisingly confident in the proposition you’re suggesting. You want Jake. The guy you’ve loved for five years, and the only person you ever want to love like this at all. You’re more than willing to give everything else up for a life with him. 
“Oh.” Jake moves his hand from your hip to your cheek and shakes his head. “I can’t let you do that, baby.” He says sadly. “I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you. You deserve to have all of the things you want, and I just can’t give those to you.” Your heart breaks all over again. His soul-crushing words move through you slowly and powerfully. You’re back in the passenger seat of his car, crying on the way home from dinner. He’d rather not be with you at all. Tears prick at your eyes, but you will them to stay put. 
“I just want you, Jake. You’re all I want.” 
“No, I’m not.” He takes a step back and rubs his temple with his fingers. He’s trying to hold it together, he is. You’re just making it so hard. “You want the house and the kids and the marriage. You won’t be happy with me.” He’s trying to reason with you. He loves you tremendously. He has never been happier, but he knows what it’s like to grow up with parents who didn’t care whether or not they had kids. Parents who barely call, even when it’s his birthday. Parents who go on vacations instead of spending the holidays with the family they created. He worries that if you stay together and have a kid, he’s going to be that kind of parent. Distant and cold. As much as he loves you, he fears for being a failure as a spouse and a parent like it’s something that’s ingrained into his DNA. It’ll be better for everyone if he ends things now. 
You don’t respond. You’re too hurt. You feel like screaming and crying and pitching an absolute fit, but you know Jake won’t respond well to that. It’ll push him further away than he already is. You’ve already lost him. The two of you stand in silence for a minute before he takes a step back, tucking part of his shirt back into his pants.
“I think I’m going to get a separate room.” And then he opens the door and leaves, letting it slam shut behind him. You slide down the wall and cry all night, thinking about how the happiest day for your best friends is always going to remind you of your worst. 
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rosewaterandivy · 8 months
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9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem
Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader
Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.
A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜
series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!
Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me
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Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV 
“You did what?”
And it’s not a question, not by a long shot. 
If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’
There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.
She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.
Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand
Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully
Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared
But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.
So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”
Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.
“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.
“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”
He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.
The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.
Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.
You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”
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The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.
Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.
He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.
Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.
“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”
A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.
“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.
And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.
Damn it all to hell.
A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.
There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.
“Me neither.”
He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.
“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.
“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.
A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.
“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.
A heavy silence falls between you.
Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.
He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.
Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.
“Can we—”
You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.
“God yes. Lemme just—”
He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.
“Eyes on me, baby.”
“Okay, Steve—ah—”
Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now. 
Oh god.
You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.
Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”
You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.
A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.
Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”
Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.
It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.
You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more. 
“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?” 
“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.
His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.
You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.
“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“
“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.
They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.
“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”
With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly. 
Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.
Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.
And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:
In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’
You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time. 
“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”
You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?
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It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon. 
His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.
“S-slow—hold on—“
“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.
“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”
Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.
Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.
“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”
He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.
“I can give it to you better.”
Because Steve wants to. He really does.
He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.
“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”
You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 
It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.
And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.
Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.
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Two weeks prior…
“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!” 
You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip. 
“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.
Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time. 
You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”
You miss.
Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”
“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”
Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.
“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”
The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.
“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”
There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  
“You know he likes you, right?”
Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”
Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  
“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”
Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?  
Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.
Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.
Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed. 
Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.
A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood. 
Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.  
Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner. 
“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”  
You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.
You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.  
Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.
And well ... he’s not wrong.
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The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin. 
His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!
As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible. 
You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.
A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required. 
Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.
It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.
You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.
“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”
He pouts.
Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.
It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.
Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing. 
“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.
Oh.
You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”
His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.
“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”
You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius. 
“Are you fucking kidding me!?”
He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike. 
Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe. 
After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”
“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”
In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”
“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”
A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”
He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed. 
A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.
“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”
“Whaddya mean?”
He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”
You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.
Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”
“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”
Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.
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And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.
It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.
Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.
“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”
“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.
“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.
“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”
“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”
“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”
“I hate you.”
She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”
You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”
Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”
A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.
His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.
Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.
Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.
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98 notes · View notes
danothan · 1 year
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i hope batlantern and halbarry enjoyers get along, there’s a lot of potential with this messy string of dynamics
i like the idea of hal and bruce being a short-lived but meaningful fling, like a “right time, right moment” situationship. seeing as they’ve both had their “we’re more alike than you think” and “you’re getting in your own way” observations abt each other, it could be productive and therapeutic to sort out their feelings thru their reflections of the other. they don’t have the compatibility or even desire to make this a lasting commited relationship, but i just think if they fucked, they could chill tf out lmao
i don’t need to go into halbarry, i feel like it speaks for itself loud and clear lol. long story short, they’re endgame to me and the most likely to be committed to a relationship, which is rly saying smth consider half of this dynamic involves hal. but regarding how they connect to batlantern, i just think it’d be rly funny in the context of JL:war. barry obviously had a crush on batman upon introduction, immediately inciting hal’s petty jealously (seriously, how do these 3 not get talked abt all together as a trio). so if we go by the idea that hal and bruce had a fling, i can only imagine what kind of conversation that would be once hal and barry got together
- B: “you slept with BRUCE? as in THE batman bruce??” / H: “yeah, it was a while back.” / B: “WHERE WAS I IN ALL THIS”
bruh as far as barry is aware, hal doesn’t even like bruce and even got mad at BARRY for not hating him too. and then he goes ahead and sleeps with the guy smh the double standards, barry’s gonna be up thinking abt this one for a few nights. tfw your boyfriend and your crush got together without you </3 hey, at least it’s fantasy-fuel right?
as for bruce and barry, their relationship is i think the most complicated of the three. they clearly have smth special, and while i do think barry’s little crush was one-sided, i also think bruce treats barry differently from the rest of the team. he already had a lot of respect for barry to begin with, but the letter barry delivered from bruce’s dad in flashpoint HAD to have changed their dynamic. if you haven’t read it, thomas credits the flash for teaching him that he can’t live for the people he’s lost, he has to live for the people he still has, and so he passes on this lesson to his son. how would bruce feel abt that?? how would he feel abt his DEAD dad telling him to cherish his living relationships, meanwhile having barry as the only thread between both?? that his friend got to meet his dead dad and become his reason for living? that the words of wisdom his dad is passing on to him were essentially from barry himself? barry’s probably gotten over his starstruck phase with bruce by now, and he’s got too much integrity to pry or even know what impact he’s had on either of their lives, but i think bruce WOULD learn to cherish his relationships from this. i think barry has a soft spot in bruce’s heart in a way that no one else does ;__; lord knows what barry sees in him or hal, but the guy’s got a good heart, so he must be doing something right
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teecupangel · 7 months
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I have a habit of starting most time travel stories with the protag(s) crashing through the ceiling (universe) in an unavoidably public place and everything being silent for half a second before protag(s) either have an existential crisis at wtf just happened and/or recognize what time they’ve been transported to based on surrounding clues, OR go(es) “SHIT” and books it thru the now-screaming crowd as fast as they can while the hole in the universe seals up behind them mysteriously.
So anyway I was reading your protocreed asks and I was struck with the same scenario, but where Virus!Desmond and Not-A-Damn-Templar!Doctor Mercer crash thru a hole together in, idk, Alex’s university where he studied or something? During a lecture?
And a second later Desmond is panicking going “WHAT THE FUCK ALEX is that YOU??? Why are you at a university. Why are you also still next to me!!! WHY ARE THERE TWO OF YOU. Why is the year on the blackboard wrong oh fuck oh SHIT is it timetravel?? Alex we’ve goddamn timetraveled, I’ve never timetraveled before, idk what to do. Alex. Are you listening to me. Do you believe in time travel??”
“I’m a fucking virologist, Desmond.”
Total deadpan delivery. Man is still lying on the floor where he fell and just totally done with the universe and everything about it, thanks.
Anyways this isn’t a prompt or anything, I just wanted to share that image with you :)
The two ProtoCreed ideas I have. The old idea I have and a ProtoCreed idea with @thedragonqueen1998
That would make a very funny image and, also, if we’re going for AlexDes (AlexMond? AlMond XD?), Desmond crashing from the ceiling could absolutely be a meet-cute scenario for Past!Alex.
Oh, man.
I’m just imagining this will end up with an unnecessary love triangle with Future!Alex being the jaded arrogant bastard that he is that wants Desmond both because he’s a fascinating specimen and because he’s sexually attracted to him and Past!Alex who still has that sliver of hope inside him that maybe there’s people in this world he could actually trust both vying for Desmond’s affection.
Past!Alex is already on that edge of becoming the arrogant lone wolf that Future!Alex is and Desmond knows this, even noticing how he had been dodging Dana’s calls for weeks now. Desmond isn’t sure, of course, but he has a feeling that the moment Past!Alex stops taking Dana’s calls, that would be the final push so he tries to stop it and pretty much just annoying Past!Alex to try and help him.
Future!Alex has no time for Desmond’s good samaritan bs and he keeps getting in the way because he believes it’s a lost cause and also because Desmond should be focusing on assisting him to find a way to get back to the present.
Desmond doesn’t really care because being in the past meant that he could change it, contacting the Assassins and making plans of his own which includes being able to save Clay and fucking Abstergo's plans up (especially Vidic's).
What he will do about Past!Desmond though, he hasn’t really thought about it yet. Sooo… he’s just gonna ignore that.
(an ending could either be Desmond getting an Alex harem or Alex and Desmond returning to the future with Desmond giving the address to Bad Weather to Past!Alex and asking him to be nice to his past self, giving half-consolation price and half-hopeful ending to Past!Alex)
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fuck-customers · 11 months
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3-26-23 🙄
Horrid employee again
In case you weren’t sold on my previous reasons of proof that Horrid hates its employees, I’ve now found out three new-ish rules/things they want us to do that aren’t insane or anything but just really fucking stupid
1. Customers have 60 days to make a return (but corporate wants us to MaKe ThEM HaPPy so we’ve returned things from MULTIPLE months ago which fucking SUCKS) but EMPLOYEES only have 14 DAYS to make a return and no later then that. But whatever
2. One of the VERY few reasons I like this job is because I do get a first look at new shipment (that’s something we all like cuz who wouldn’t??) and therefore we’re able to make claims on stuff that comes in and are sure to get it before it’s sold out
Well. Now corporate is wanting us to change that. They want us to “leave it for the customer! Order it online instead!” Which can take about a week to deliver. That’s not a long time, but it is if we need it immediately. Also since they keep sending us SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SHIPMENT. (we deadass had about 32 boxes in our very very small back room that we have absolutely no room for on the floor and almost no room for in overstock!!!!) I don’t see why I should have to order and wait instead of purchasing it now. Also they’re still getting our money either way so who gives a shit? Literally all of us were like “absolutely not lmfao”
3. They’ve asked us not to abuse employee holds on items, which I would understand and we are all kinda guilty of, BUT customer holds are only supposed to be 24 hours (unless they call and ask to extend) and YET, and YET, my manager puts customers shit on hold for sometimes up to TWO WEEKS because they’re “frequent and loyal customers and we know them 🥺”. Ma’am, YOU know them. I don’t even remember their names unless they’re assholes, they treat us like shit and cant even be bothered to pick up their PACKAGES and half the time they change their minds about the clothes anyway meanwhile 8 other people have come thru looking for those pieces of clothing on hold and I have to tell them we don’t have it when we do!!!!
Now once again idk if I’m crazy or if these are normal things at most stores but idk everything Horrid does just feels wrong esp when it comes to us the employees (oh also, in case anyone remembers my rant about my $0.20 raise, I still haven’t gotten that back. Also feels like a fuck you to employees “we raised the wages so why would u need the $0.20?”)
@staff I HATE the new text editor!
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snickerdoodlles · 2 years
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typing up character sheets for my minor kinnporsche faves/OCs, and currently i have:
cash
the in-house accountant
yes, he’s aware his name means money. you’re not that funny, and he promises he’s already heard whatever joke you’re about to say
(his mother believed in being very direct and upfront with Fate about her expectations for her son, and unfortunately he’s useless at anything but figures)
became an accountant for the mafia partially so he could threaten people with a gun after one (1) too many jokes about his name
he’s never owned a gun. accountants aren’t allowed to keep guns in the mansion. this is the universe laughing at him for his hubris, he’d like it to stop now please
he makes his debut when kinn goes to order thirty new fish for tankhun (as an apology for his crush being a total walnut). he makes the mistake of crying over how the cost of this purchase is 3x his annual salary, then goes thru the very stressful process of begging kinn not to give him a raise. his life is a fucking trial
vegas’s muder-sex dungeon cleaners/maintainers
there’s two of them. absolutely no one knows their names, just the way they like it
as gross as the clean up is, they prefer that job to stocking. they are utmost professionals on and off the job and don’t judge, but sourcing half this shit is a trial. seriously, bubble gum flavored lube? do people even sell that still? please stop desecrating these top of the line hand wrenches sir, the hardware stores are starting to know them by face. they still haven’t found the right leather sex swing for mr. vegas and they’re running out of stores to shop in, he’s not really expecting them to custom make it, right? right?
the monk
u know which monk
personally i like to think he originally started this whole thing as a con (u know those people that charge money for free parking? like that). some dumb tourist handed him free food and money one day in mistake and he went “o heck, this could be a gig” but then he legitimately became a part of the temple
basically: came for the free food, stayed for the spiritual awakening
ultimate fake it til you make it icon
a much beloved part of the community. he’s especially in demand for baby blessings
maybe a little too quick to pass out those blessed dildos
Kim’s ex-bodyguard
when kim first moved out, there were some...ahem, disagreements between him and korn about how much protection he still needed, and kim took it out on the bodyguards assigned to him
this guy went “hahaha no” after a day of that and quit. except there was a mix up in the paperwork which resulted in him being taken off the guard rosters, but he’s still on the payroll accounts and this guy just...went with it
absolute madlad and world’s ballsiest gambler
the way he sees it, this is still safer than finding true bodyguard employment and he can just ride it out. if kim finds out, there’s an 83% chance he’ll just use this to get rid of more bodyguards. if the payroll accountant finds out, it’s 50/50 on whether the mistake is quietly fixed or made an example of. if chan finds out, 99.8% chance he’ll get a bullet to the head, but at least it’ll be quick
he likes pressing flowers
a select handful of deutsche bank employees who happen to work in a certain set of offices
their contact is cash. he’s been ignoring their calls for years, but when they called to complain about the sex pool shenanigans, he made the mistake of being sympathetic and now he can’t get rid of them
one monday night call: “i have a bullet hole in my office right now and im blaming you” / “we’re not even one of your clients!” / “which is exactly why i can complain to you” / “ugh”
kinn’s cleaning staff
THE TRUE MVPS OF THE SHOW U KNOW IM RIGHT
there’s five of them, each one of them armed with a cleaning weapon tool of choice. i’m still picking out names for them, but vegas would take notes if he ever saw meen and her broom in action
threatens the kitchens any time they try to make a meal with high stain potential. the bodyguards might think they’re hot shit, but they have nothing on these guys. the only fruits kinn’s had in years are bananas and boys and it’s all because of them
are not utmost professionals on and off the job. they have a secret groupchat that’s passcode protected with three kill switches jic where they complain about the kinky shit kinn gets up to. kinn’s tailor has wanted to be a part of it for years, but no outsiders allowed
all of them meet up for coffee at least once a month, but no more than twice
honorary mention to arm, who would be a part of this group if he had less of a role. he’s the most absolute unit of a bodyguard and apparently the only IT guy in the theerapanyakul‘s employ and i love him. chan is the only other one who seems to know how to operate an ipad, but he outsources that kind of thing
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kmblckbk · 1 year
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sun & shadow
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part 5
18+ mature content, contains smut
*contains spoilers for ACOTAR*
eris x reader / azriel x reader
word count: 2112
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You collapse on the bed, completely spend. You roll onto your back and see both men staring at you grinning. "oh no we're not done yet" Azriel says. "I can't" you breathe out. "oh baby, you can do one more" he says darkly, which was so fricking hot. "n-no I can't" you say, still out of breath. You already felt way to sensitive now. "yes you can, i wanna try another hole baby" Azriel teases. Your eyes grow wide, what?! No he didn't mean what you think he did, did he? "what?" you ask him. "roll onto your stomach" he says. "Az what...?" "I said" Azriel says looming over you "on your stomach". He flips you over and sits behind you. "now, are you gonna be a good girl for me y/n?" he asks you. "Az" you whisper. You yell out as he smacks your ass hard. "I said, are you gonna be a good girl for me?" he says as his fingers starts circling your back hole. You grow nervous now. "i-I" you say your mind still foggy. "she never done that before" Eris says to Azriel. "good then I'll be the first to fuck this virgin ass" he says as he continues to circle your back hole. "Az I don't know". "just relax baby, you can take it, I promise" he says in a little more of a caring tone. "now I'm curious too" Eris says grinning. You feel Az' finger press against your asshole and you take a quick breath in. "relax baby" Azriel says as he holds you in place with his hand on your waist. He slowly presses his finger inside you and you hiss out at the sensation. "I can't" you tell him panicking. "yes you can" Eris says "you are gonna take him like a good girl, princess". "just relax for me y/n" you hear Azriel say. "no, no I can't" you say already feeling full and his finger is not even half way in. wait he was not gonna fuck you there was he. If his finger barely fit, his dick would never fit. "stop freaking out and fucking take what he's giving you" Eris says strictly. God he was so sexy when he used that voice with you. Azriel pushes his finger further inside you. and you hiss in pain. "you need to relax y/n. I swear it will be better" Azriel says while he lovingly strokes your spine, making goosebumps appear all over your body. "shit man, do you have any lube around here?" you hear Eris ask Azriel. "yeah, left nightstand, first drawer". Eris get's up and grabs the lube. You feel Az's finger leave your ass, and you breathe out.
Then you feel something cold on your ass, before Azriel's finger enters you again. It does feel better this time. "that's it" you hear Eris praise you. Az moves his finger in and out of you before he pushes in another finger. "oh fuck" you moan out as he starts to spread your ass. "that's it baby, you're doing so good for me" the praise makes you moan out louder now. "I think she's ready Az" you hear Eris tell him. his fingers leave your tight hole before something bigger is pressing against it. "breathe y/n" you hear Azriel tell you. you didn't even notices you stopped breathing. "good girl. Can you watch her for me" you hear Az tell Eris.
You see Eris move beside you, lifting your head up, his fingers holding your chin, watching you closely, as you feel Azriel push against your back hole. As he enters you a shock of pain goes thru your body and tears spring into your eyes. "relax" Eris says lovingly. "I'm trying" you tell him as a tear rolls down your face. "you're doing really good for us princess" he says wiping the tear from your face, while Azriel enters you slowly. Inch by inch, and damn he had some inches. When he's fully inside he stops. "are you okay?" he asks, sounding a little scared of the answer. "y-yes I'm okay" you tell him, your voice vibrating a little at the sensation.
You guess Az just looked at Eris for conformation because Eris nods at him. Then Azriel starts to move slowly. At first it's a weird, almost painful sensation. But the he touches something inside you that makes you moan out in pleasure. "there you go" you hear Azriel say "that's it baby". He speeds up a little, his thrust in a steady rhythm. "you wanna get in on the fun?" you hear Azriel ask Eris. "I thought you never ask" you see Eris grin. You feel Azriel pull back, removing his dick from your asshole. "get under her" you hear Azriel tell Eris. Eric lifts you up and impales you on his dick, making you moan out loud. A second later you feel Az at your back entrance. "no, please" you beg, knowing this is already to much. "eyes on me princess" Eris orders. You look at him as you feel Azriel fill your ass up again. And god it feels so good. They both move slowly at first. Gods you felt so full. But soon the pleasure overtakes you. "faster" you tell them. And they start to move at a brutal pace. Tears stream down your face in pleasure. And you moan out, not even caring if someone were to hear. Your so lost in pleasure your eyes are blurry and you feel so good, and so full.
You don't register anything really, but then your pulled back into a hard body. Tightly holding you in place by a scared hand holding your throat. "I said, are you ready to come for us again" Azriel whispers into your ear. "y-yesss" you blur out. "oh we are fucking you good aren't we?" he asks mockingly. "y-ye.... Oh fuckkkkkk!" you moan out as you come so hard you see stars. Your body shaking and spasming out of control, as you feel Azriel and Eris both filling you up with their cum. "oh look at those legs shake baby" you hear someone say, you don't even know if it's Azriel or Eris, you're too far gone. You feel both man pull out of you, before they lay you between them, as you cuddle up to eachother. And that's how you fall asleep.
The next morning you're up early. Seeing both man still asleep next to you. you smile to yourself, you could actually get used to this. You look over at Eris, a ray of sunshine making his hair even more rusted. You loved it so much. It was different with him now tho, yes you still loved him but you had found your mate. You turn around to look at Azriel. His face was covered in shadows, making him look mysterious. It felt different with him. even tho you known him for a day or 2, you already felt so strongly about him. and he understood you, probably like no one else did. They were quite literally the opposite of one another. One was your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend. Who shined as the sun. and the other was your mate, mysterious as the shadows themselves. And yet you loved them both.
You smile at your mate and his eyes slowly open. "good morning beautiful" he says with his sexy morning voice. "good morning handsome" you say smiling at him as you place a soft kiss on his lips, making him smile at you. "I never had this before" he tells you. "what?". "someone I like to wake up to, who I like to share my life with. I'm not the talker but I would like to tell you everything I've been thru and everything I like. And I would love to get to know you too. The good, the bad and everything in between. I think.........I think I love you" he says, a soft blush appearing on his cheeks, gods you loved it when he blushed. "It sounds crazy after just 2 days, but I think I love you too" you tell him.
Eris stirs behind you in his sleep. "what about him?" Azriel asks you. "I really liked last night, and I would like to do it more often. But you're my mate. And to be honest I never felt so at home as how I feel here. Eris needs to go back to the autumn court at some point and I wanna stay here.......with you" you tell him. a big smile appears on his face. "really?" he asks. "really" you tell him. "so what are you gonna tell him?" Azriel asks you. "that I have a mate now and that I wanna stay here. And........and that I'm breaking up with him. but that he can always come by and have some fun with us, if you're okay with that?". "I would love that" Azriel says smiling at you and you smile back. Azriel get's up out of bed and passionately kisses you. "I'm gonna get breakfast for us" he tells you before he walks out.
As the door closes behind him, Eris wakes up. "hey beautiful" he says smiling at you. "hey" you say, nervous all of a sudden. How is he gonna react to what you have to tell him. and when where you gonna tell him and where. "you're gonna break up with me right?" he says sighing. He could always read you like a book. "I'm sorry Eris, I just" you say not getting it over your heart to tell him. "hey it's okay. You have found your mate, I understand" he says sitting up straight against the headboard of the bed. "I'm sorry" you whisper as tears roll down your face. Eris pulls you into his arms holding you close to your chest. "hey, it's okay I understand y/n. I really do, even though it sucks" he says smiling sadly. "if you ever close by, you're always welcome here" you tell him. "that's nice of you but you need to get to know your mate. I know Az for a little while now and I really think he's good for you. and I think he can understand you better than I ever could.". "I really loved you Eris" you tell him. "I know. I loved you too y/n" he says just holding you. you just sit there for a few minutes. "it feels like home here" you whisper to him. "good, you deserve a place where you're loved and cared for, I know you could never feel that way in the autumn court. And I'm sorry I could never really make it a home there for you" he says, guilt in his voice. "you did everything you could Eris. I couldn't asked for anyone better than you to make me feel at home". "yes you can, Az makes you feel at home. And I'm glad it's here. And yes I can't stand Rhysand, but I know this court will take care of you. because here they're all bastards" he says. "just like me" you say smiling. "just like you" he says kissing your forehead lovingly.
The door opens and Azriel walks in with breakfast and places it on the bed. Eris places you next to him on the bed, while he get's up and starts dressing himself. "where are you going?" you ask him. "I need to go home now" Eris says. "just stay for breakfast" Azriel says to him. "I can't". you share a look with Az before you both turn back to Eris. "well if you ever close by and are looking for a fun and exiting night, you know where to find us" Azriel tells him. "I will" Eris says, he walks to the door and waits in the door opening looking back at the both of you. "I wish you the best, truly" he says and you see he really means it. "and you better take care of her. make time for her, okay" he says to Azriel. "I will don't worry" Azriel tells him. "good, otherwise I will have to kill you" Eris says smiling at Azriel. "you have nothing to worry about, good luck Eris". "you too Az" Eris says before he hugs Azriel tightly. "I'll see you guys around" Eris says before he leaves and closes the door behind him.
"so, breakfast?" Azriel says as he sits down next to you on the bed. You smile up to him "yes, breakfast" you say before Azriel kiss you passionately.
masterlist
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purebakuluv · 1 year
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hello!! i hope this crosses the right people again</3 this is the third time i post this</33 but anyways, i made this header so hopefully this shows my dedication for this series:’) do not hesitate to leave any feedback, reblogs/comments are welcomed:)
warning // implied intimacy though not specified, swearing, our sweet green haired boy has been goin thru it, more characters!!
part 4 of part 1, 2, 3
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for the first time in her life, the world seemed.. peaceful. no waking up in the middle of the night, hurriedly putting her hero costume, and abandoning her apartment. her hand trailed to the side next to her but found no one, quickly, she covered herself with the thick sheet and stood up from the bed. frantically looking around for any signs until she heard the bedroom door open.
“you’re doing that thing i hate, hocus-pocus. the one where you’re all bug eyed with that big sad pout.”
a breathy sigh escaped her lips and a smile soon taking its place. she looked at him, something about him being right here.. it wasn’t wrong. but deep down she knew it wasn’t right either.
“i thought you were go-ne, i-i tri-tried…” her voice began to brittle, the pain was still there within her. she still dreamt about it even with him right next to her, arms around each other. she knew this wasn’t going to last but she was going to try.
the girl felt arms wrap around her, the holder exhaled deeply. “loser,” the gruff voice started, the very one she grew accustomed and loved. “i’m right here.”
for how long? she thought. how long am i going to have this?
“cmon get up, i made us breakfast and it’s probably already cold because of your dumbass.” she scoffed while the other smirked, picking her up and placing her over his shoulder.
“wait! kats, i’m naked! let me get dressed!”
“no can do, breakfast is gettin’ cold.”
“you son of a - PUT ME DOWN!”
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izuku midoriya is not a quitter. more so if it came to y/n, that word was nonexistent. so when he was standing right outside where y/n took all the residents and created her own world, something began to creep its way into his brain, something he was all too familiar with.
doubt.
could he really do it alone?
he couldn’t get that this was all his fault in the first place out of his head. maybe if he was a bit faster, maybe if he ignored the blond’s demands.. he still would’ve been here and none of this would have even happened. the trio would’ve been taking care of other world problems, hell, midoriya would’ve suffered more of bakugo’s bullying but all would’ve been worth it because of her. she made all tolerable.
before he took a step in, a hard hand placed on his shoulder to stop him. the green haired male swiftly jumped back and faced the other in a fighting stance.
“midoriya? chill man! i should’ve probably said something when i did that- sorry.” the voice let out a chuckle.
realization hit midoriya, confused and with large eyes he slowly stood normally. “kirishima? what are you doing here?!”
“i am here too.”
the freckled boy let out a shrill, his eyes landing on a certain half haired male. “todoroki?!”
“deku,” the crimson haired male began, shifting his vision to the other, he saw how defeated he was. the bag under his eyes was similar to his. “i heard about y/n.. i was angry at first when the news came out that she brought him back but when i heard ochaco and some of the others bad mouth her- i couldn’t just sit there- she’s one of us, man! she needs us and we’re doing nothing but talk down on her!” kirishima looked up towards the sky, this part of town was almost never lit. “i want to help her as much as she helped me when we were students in UA, the amount of times when i felt i was useless, she was right there to throw those thoughts away. i-i want to help her, midoriya…”
“since we’re sharing our feelings here, i might as well share this.”
the two males shift their attention to the peppermint boy, rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed.
“i loved y/n way before she and bakugo became exclusive, even way before U.A,” he knitted his eyebrows together, his own gaze finding interest with the grass below him. “believe it or not, i even confessed to her.”
inside of U.A. on campus gym
the sound of giggling rang in young todoroki’s ears, a sound that he could almost mistakenly confuse with those of an angel.
“god, i love going against you, sho! you never fail to give me a good fair fight.” “isn’t really fair when you manipulate my brain to see a bunch of endeavors.” y/n stifled a laugh while todoroki sulked. “even worse when they try to hug me.” with that the young girl exploded with laughter to which the boy smiled and stared at her in awe.
“it’s a shame bakugo got to you first.”
now silence filled the air.
“sho don’t-“
“i have to get this off my chest, y/n.” the two toned boy sighed, reaching for her hand to which she allowed. this was her best friend after all, she knew he wouldn’t overstep his boundaries unless she agreed.
“i hope he treats you as you deserve to be treated because trust me when i say, i won’t hesitate to make you mine when he lets his guard down.”
but of course, bakugo never did.
and of course word got back to the ash blond as that irrelevant nosey kid from class 1-b taunted the explosive boy that his hocus pocus girlfriend was now the main goal of that icy hot bastard. bakugo thought this could go in two ways, he could either beat that half and half bastard into a pulp or do something that could benefit both.
he was leaning towards the first option but once the image of y/n appeared in his head, he backtracked.
“todoroki, what’re you saying? kacchan?…”
“bakugo and i made a deal.”
“what kind of deal, man?”
heterochromatic eyes stared at both males in front of him, “if bakugo was ever to be out of the picture, i’d have to keep her safe from harming herself and others but also..”
“also?”
“i could finally pursue her.”
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cetaceans-pls · 2 years
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Doughnut Do This To Me
Walking home from work, Bruce abruptly decides to join a random PTA meeting.
For once, he’s pretty sure he isn’t the worst man in the room.
Bruce Wayne/Jason Todd
Day 2: In the PTA
T, Canon-typical violence, Hostages, Absolute dumbassery
this is gonna be a recurring theme this week i think but i literally have no idea what i just wrote :’) nevertheless we’re gonna get thru it
-
Bruce has had the dubious pleasure of attending a few parent-teacher association meetings over the years for his horde of hellions, but this, he is forced to admit, is a thing of a different order.
The false moustache tickles him fiercely, but he didn’t have time to put on anything more elaborate. He didn’t even have time to wait for reinforcements, so here he is.
In a hostage situation with some shithead gunned-up dad screaming for his ex, a real parent crouched in the auditorium of a school no child of his attends.
Not what he’d expected to be doing on a Monday evening, but here we all are.
-
Bruce had finished up earlier than usual at work, feeling exceptionally energetic after two weeks of mild patrols and an absence of world-ending calamities, and in that funny way he gets ideas sometimes (like becoming Batman), he decides to walk home. Eight miles isn’t much to him, and it’s that perfect autumn weather of crispy-cool with bright sunlight pouring down, and he’d thought yes, why not go on a needlessly long walk?
He’s more than halfway home, passing through the Greensborough suburbs and enjoying a truly heinous food truck hotdog when he pauses by the front of Ainsley Elementary. He chews on his mystery meat contemplatively as he smiles at the banner that says ‘PTA meeting TONIGHT! Free Donuts 5 - 7′ in black ink on lime green card, and is ready to move on, when-
Afterwards, Bruce couldn’t really describe what drove him to toss his hotdog into a bush and briskly head for the front entrance, waistcoat and jacket being ripped off, spare moustache from the hidden compartment in his wallet getting slapped on, hair mussed to look longer and scruffier than it is. A man had gone in with a look in his face that looked off, a hand that kept straying to his hip, patting under his jacket, face determined and mean, and it had sent alarm bells screeching in his head.
At the door to the auditorium a young woman asks that he sign himself in; Bruce goes with Bill Stevens, with the assumption that surely someone would have Stevens as a surname. A quick glanceover throws up a Paw Patrol lanyard, the slightest smudge of pink marker on the inside of her cuff, and a strong Miss Frizzle energy to her dressing, so he takes a stab and hopes that she teaches younger kids and won’t realise that Nicola Stevens in 7th Grade is fully a made-up child.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, all fluffed up and mussed up, pleasantly red in the cheek from the walk over. “Work ran over, my partner couldn’t come last minute, argh, hope there’s still some donuts left, god have mercy on whoever it was last time that sucked down half a dozen of the chocolate glazed ones.”
It’s another gamble, but PTA meetings tend to have a rhyme and a reason; they happen at regular intervals, and baked goods always run out too early.
Miss Frizzle laughs, and doesn’t even ask for ID. “It’s Brenda,” she says conspiratorially. “Swear she became the head of the PTA exclusively so that she gets first dibs.”
Bruce winks outrageously at her, and decides on the spot that Bill’s a devoted father but also a bit of a flirt. “You said it, not me.”
She baps him the sign-in clipboard, does not cross-reference his name against the name of parents with kids in the 7th grade, and waves him in. “Go on, go help yourself.”
Bruce smiles sunnily at her and scurries in, grabbing a donut and a cup of coffee, making small talk about his kid whose name, age, and gender changes with every person he’s talking to. He gets ensnared by a group of moms who somehow do know made-up Marigold-Lewis-in-4th-grade, and it feels like he’s close to blowing his cover when he remembers that no one expects much out of hapless dads outside of good-natured befuddled affection (how shameful).
He sits with Malika and Svetta and Dianne, shoots off a quick text to the family chat with an update as to why he’s stuck fast in an elementary school, and keeps his eyes on the man he hadn’t liked the look of.
Maybe his intuition had been wrong. Maybe he’ll just have to sit through 45 minutes of incredibly dull PTA stuff, continue discussing the ongoing struggle to separate Mari from his iPad, and then calmly proceed back the hell home. Jason’s coming by the Manor tonight, and maybe the day’ll end as well as it started.
It somehow only takes the man 20 minutes to Snap.
(Bruce wishes he had pounded back more donuts).
-
Excruciatingly, excitingly, the horrendous man holding them hostage is genuinely named Bill Stevens. They all know this, because he had shot his gun into the ceiling, rushed the stage, then screamed “I’m Bill Stevens, and I’m gonna kill my whore of an ex-wife!” for all the world to hear.
Honestly. Bruce supposes it could’ve been worse, Real Bill could have done this at any one of a thousand points in time where Bruce was far, far away. But no, the man chose a day where the heavens conspired to land Bruce at Ainsley Elementary, and if Real Bill had done this with children in the building Real Bruce would have ripped his fucking throat out.
As is, he brings his little group of mothers to the ground quick as he can, and throws his jacket over them. It’s wool on the outside, Kevlar on the inside, so it’s something. “Stay down,” he murmurs to them. “I’m a PI, I can handle this.”
There’s a lot of shouting and chaos as people mill about, clearly doing the mental math of ‘can I disarm this man before he empties his gun into me’ and still stuck on carrying the 2. It’s great cover for him to text home and say HOSTAGE GUN COME, before creeping towards the stage.
He feels terribly awkward, in broad daylight and nice slacks doing that funky little crabwalk that looks substantially more menacing when it’s dark and his cape’s trailing behind him, but it keeps him small and out of sight.
There’s a bit of a stand-off at the front of the stage now, between Real Bill screaming for “Brenda you bitch, come up here!!” while 3 other parents are trying to talk him down.
Brenda, thankfully, is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had gone to the lady’s room to wash her hands after her conquest of the donuts; he hopes Miss Frizzle’s already called for help and has barred entry.
He makes it all the way to the wings of the stage, pressed up close against dusty velvet curtains, obvious to everyone in the audience and nigh-on invisible to Real Bill.
Tensions are ratcheting up, Bill becoming increasingly incensed that he has somehow chosen the worst possible time to escalate this, creating a hostage situation sans target hostage.
Bruce could tackle him at this distance, he’s pretty sure, and he could do it with minimal danger to himself. Real Bill doesn’t look hard to overpower, skinny and wiry and ragged red round the edges, but while it would be easy to point the gun away in a scuffle, ‘away’ here means potentially towards any one of 3 dozen parents cowering on the floor.
Think, think. He doesn’t have any kit on him, when a poison blowdart or a batarang would be very useful. Real Bill doesn’t seem like he’s got the makings of a murderer, but it’s not hard to imagine him losing his temper and doing something terribly, terribly stupid.
Bruce doesn’t actually have a Nicola Stevens or a Marigold Lewis, but he’s still got a whole host of children he could boast about with the best of them. Unlike Real Bill, Bruce doesn’t want to do something terribly, terribly stupid. Unlike Real Bill, Bruce is trying to get better at communication.
Unlike Real Bill, Bruce thinks as he pulls out his phone, he has people waiting for him at home.
And unlike Brenda, his partner’s going to come through, right about-
-
“BILL STEVENS YOU CHEATING MOTHERFUCKER, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”
Jason comes in like a rampage, door kicked down, gun in each hand, looking like the ‘passion’ part in crime of passion.
Bruce almost feels bad for Real Bill, who looks shaken and stirred.
“Who the hell are you?” Real Bill shouts, an embarrassing crack in his voice, as he aims his gun at what Bruce can only hope is Jason’s armed chest.
“Who the hell are you?” Jason yells backs, thrice as loud and four time as rude. “Y’know what, actually I don’t even care. Where the fuck is Bill Stevens, I’m gonna teach him a lesson about two-timing me!”
Jason’s a force of nature, an unexpected typhoon that rises up and throws your head back when you were expecting a light drizzle at its worst, and Real Bill is visibly startled, stepping back and looking confounded.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t know you!” his hand is shaking on his gun now, fearful tremor getting way worse the closer Jason advances on him.
“Of course you don’t,” Jason says mockingly, like he’s talking to a complete idiot, like he’s a rich trust-fund kid being needlessly unkind to the server behind the corner at Dairy Queen. “The fuck do you know ‘bout anything, Billy Boy? I’m here to beat up my man, you can’t even get your ex-girl to stay in the room with you.”
God. Bruce winces, and he sees half the room wince with him. Sure, Real Bill is a Real Asshole, but Jason’s degree of viciousness almost seems unfounded for how little injury there’s actually been.
Then again, Jason’s always been terrifying protective, which is a hard trait to keep when you’re dating the Batman. Nevertheless, they’re all persisting.
“Stay back, stay back!” Real Bill shrieks, and Bruce decides that it’s time to intervene. Jason might have his armour on his chest, maybe, but his head is bare, and Bruce is pretty terrifyingly protective too.
Bruce tucks into a crouch, ready to spring forward, but he’s not built for daylight!! A move that would have been invisible in the dark is obvious enough for Real Bill to catch out his periphery, and the man turns to him, wild-eyed, finger squeezing the trigger.
Bruce drops and holds his arms up over his head, braced for a bullet and a Bang!, but instead there’s a meaty thwack, and then a crumply thud.
He looks up, and crumpled in a neat pile with his eyes rolled back is Real Bill, blessedly unconscious. The instrument of his knock-out is obvious; Jason’s gun is spinning on the ground, a neat landing after the butt came into full violent contact with Real Bill’s temple, thrown with pinpoint accuracy at 10 paces.
Bruce looks at the gun, the absence of a bang, and turns to look at Jason, who’s just playing himself now. Jason’s a little abashed, a little puffed up to make up for being embarrassed, but he also looks a little bit (a lot) smug. “C’mon, babe. I know you hate the sound of gunfire. Wouldn’t be much of a rescue if I upset you, would it?”
Bruce suspects he’s making a very embarrassing face right now, and hopes that the moustache covers at least a portion of it. “Thanks for coming.”
“No problem,” Jason tells him, and smirks. “Good job sending me your location babe, but also you are whole ass at the wrong school. We’re at Armsley, not Ainsley. C’mon, we’re gonna miss our own damn PTA meeting.”
Smooth, Bruce thinks a little breathlessly. What a marvelous extraction.
Someone in the mass of still shaking, still upset civillians somehow still finds the strength within themselves to shout “But there isn’t an Armsley Elementary anywhere near here,” as Jason reaches across the stage to grab his gun with one hand and helps Bruce down with the other.
“You got us,” Jason says mildly, arm tight around Bruce’s waist as he walks them to the exit. “We’re actually guardian angels of PTA meetings. Get snippy with me and I’m gonna curse you so’s that every time you take a seat in this school the chair will break and your kid will laugh at you. Chill.” At the table by the door, he grabs a donut. “Have something sweet.”
Then he throws the cursed pastry at the voice of dissent, and leans over and kisses Bruce in full view of every single person in the auditorium.
Brenda can keep her chocolate-glazed baked goods, Bruce finds himself thinking hazily. He’s already filled up with something warm and sweet.
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princessg3rard · 2 months
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alright gather round moots, followers, and generally curious weirdos (affectionate) !! the long awaited princess lore 101 post is here !! <3
general fun facts
- I do everything in slutty gogo heels, including climbing the Eiffel Tower, doing prides, running, and presenting research papers <3
- the slutty gogos and a mini skirt (plus the word slay) have become my signature thing, and to this day people around me call those boots by my irl name
- I made countless people question their sexuality, even getting nominated as “couple of the year” with 2 of them (one of which i technically made cheat on her bf but like we were drunk and high as shit and I kinda forgot he was a thing (until I saw him in my dorm not 2 days later))
- I have very intense hyperfixiations that lead to very intense phases :3 my family still shudders in horror just hearing the name Percy Jackson :,)
- got my first head injury and first stitches at 3yo :)) they had to untangle so much blood from my curls it took like an hour and a half until they could actually stitch me lol
- all throughout hs people were convinced I was fucking one of my best friends which was funny as balls when u remember I’m a lesbian and he is gayer than a pile of bricks :) we did like to add fuel to the fire tho, posting each other in dresses and stuff like that (he was even my date to 12th grade formal and he wore my wedding dress from the year prior) so maybe it’s partially our fault too :3
the time I burned off my arms and got sick ass scars
so imagine me, little mx. violent fag, finishing my first matriculation exam in hebrew lang. me and my friends play a couple violent rounds of jungle speed before me and bestie have to run off to help the club. the activity is making small benches out of old tires and concrete, easy right ?? well, the supervising councillor tells us to just mix the cement by hand bc he forgot to get us gloves, so not really. it’s really fucking fun, we’re having a great time mixing and listening to music and chatting, but my arms start to fucking burn like crazy after a while. I ask the club president next to me and she says she feels that too, and it’s probs nothing, so we carry on.
at about the half hour mark, it gets a bit too much to me so I go and make a little round to my dorm, just to wash my hands a bit bc they’re feeling just a TAD too warm for summer. while I wash my hands, I realise that not only was it not nothing, it was chemical burns. from a bit above my elbow all the way down to my fingers, my hands were red and stinging and (gore warning !!) I could see my flesh thru the holes.
so I go down to councillors room and tell them I think I might be having an allergic reaction (it looked like hives for most of my hands) bc like omg I can’t tell them my arms are burning. anywho, me and the shinshinit tom get a ride to the clinic, where they drown my arms in rubbing alcohol and bandage me and send me on my merry way. I did have to actually go to hospital later bc of my arms, but didn’t stay long and my arms fully recovered just in time for my arabic final.
I still have pretty cool scars where the holes were, and I can write semi-ok (albeit with a slight tremor) :) another boy from my megama (major) got injured around that time (broke his leg) so it seemed like we were cursed for a slight bit there lol :3
the time I lost my appendix in a hockey match
this one is from Hanukkah of 6th grade. I played roller hockey for 3 years at that point, as wild dykey offence, and we were going to a tournament up north. the day before that, I have my last appendix checkup and get told I’m alright and can totes go on the tournament - but that night, I start having cramps. thinking nothing of it, I tell myself it’s stress and go to sleep.
once we arrive to the tournament, I start feeling it again, but stronger. I shake it off and go on to play, but it gets worse the longer I play, and I find myself on the floor after a stray disk hits my stomach. I get up and ask to take a break, and ask the mum that came with us to call my mum bc I think my appendix is acting up again. she laughs and shakes her head, telling me I’m making a fuss over nothing and that I’ve probably gotten my period - which I absolutely didn’t.
I keep telling her it’s urgent, that it happened before and this time I could find myself either on an operating table or in a morgue (yes I was an over dramatic little shit but it was actually true), so could she PLEASE just tell my mum to come pick me up ?? I get another annoyed no, one after the other. I try to go up on the rink again, but have to take a time out again after a couple minutes bc I feel like my insides are on fire. after a while, she gets my coach to give me the most patronising period talk ever, where he talks to me like a toddler and ignores that I’m in borderline debilitating pain. the thing is, I don’t show pain well, and most people can’t tell I’m in pain unless I’m like dying or crying (which doesn’t happen often), so they keep brushing me off.
I get tired of the gaslighting and call my mum up myself. she comes rushing in, curses at the “responsible” adults, and takes me to hospital no questions asked, and I find myself appendix-less not 3hr after I was told off by the angry mum and my coach. it almost burst, and I had to do emergency surgery and stay in hospital for 3 weeks. oh well at least I got an ipad and a cool scar out of it lol :3
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jennycalendar · 2 years
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delayed convoluted thoughts on the btvs s2 finale under the cut!
so i didn’t really have the chance to say this while actually watching (was too caught up in giles!) but i feel like becoming pt. 2...kinda rubbed me the wrong way? i spent pretty much every episode of season two watching it like the obvious issues with the buffy + angel relationship were on some level being taken seriously by the show, and got so caught up in how interesting and text-supported the reading is of angel being a shitty older boyfriend that i actually kind of forgot how the season concludes it. i’m really not sure what to make of that. like, i only have eyes for you underlines the age difference and the power difference in such a fascinating way, to the point where it felt (to me, at least!) like a much more excellent culmination of emotion than the buffy/angel scene at the end of becoming pt. 2. it genuinely baffles me that the show itself leans into this idea of buffy/angel as a tragic romance, and so much of season three + the season two finale hinges upon the viewer having sympathy for them, but personally, i just...don’t.
and becoming pt. 2 reinforces that angel/angelus division by having buffy recognize, love, and kiss angel, when it’s so much more interesting to question the reality of that division instead! there are shades of angel to angelus, and vice versa. angelus is at first unaware of the fact that he is in love with buffy until i only have eyes for you forces him to confront this. angel is defined by his determination to compartmentalize his monstrosity. and, yeah, i get that we are intended to believe in the soul/no soul dichotomy at this point in the narrative, but it’s really hard to look at this plotline within the larger context of the show and take it as simple as it’s being presented. ESPECIALLY with episodes like i only have eyes for you, b+a interactions where angel will regularly treat buffy like a child, etc.
angel’s return in season three though DEPENDS upon this rigid adherence to the soul/no soul notion, because otherwise his re-integration into the group just isn’t possible! he has to be completely separate from his crimes as angelus, because if he isn’t, someone who is at least on some level responsible for murdering jenny and torturing giles is being allowed to sit at the table WITH GILES. and idk man as someone who has never pretended at subjectivity here and absolutely aches for what giles goes through in season three even if we’re looking at angel thru the most positive light possible, i am not having a fun time with this whole “buffy and angel are true love" thing. it just makes me sad about giles.
and juuuust for the record -- i actually really like buffy and angel as a concept! i just think that the concept they were teasing is so much more rich and interesting than the concept that we get. i don’t love the idea of the show agreeing with buffy’s notion of “buffy & angel 4ever” and i feel like it sort of alternates between leaning into it and skimming the surface of this baffling, compelling, heartbreaking connection between two people who are just both so devastatingly lonely. i really really want a timeline where the tragedy isn’t that buffy and angel can’t be together but that buffy doesn’t see angel the same way that she did before all of this happened. i love the thought of that half-baked metaphor in season two continuing into season three -- buffy wants to be with angel, always has, always will, but is now confronted with the actual reality of the kind of shit he’s done and is not sure how to reconcile that with the blurry romantique image she was leaning into pre-innocence. instead of having her fighting how badly she wants to be with him, i think it would be so fucking compelling if she was fighting how badly she doesn’t want to be with him. 
BUT MY MEMORY OF THIS SEASON IS WOBBLY SO MAYBE MY MIND WILL CHANGE. (please god let it change i can’t take a whole season of being sad about giles and mad about jenny).
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azsazz · 3 months
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I get what that one anon was saying about Az being left out but also like I don’t feel bad for him I’m sorry. He’s constantly an asshole when reader really didn’t do anything to him (I love the trope though so I’m not complaining) but like if he wants to act like that and not apologize then his friends shouldn’t be blamed for actually liking and bonding with the girls (even though reader doesn’t really want Rhys there but he still is trying to apologize)
idk to me it just feels like a “you made your bed you have to lie in it” bc he’s being the immature one in this situation. I get the vibes from reader that she would 100% at least hear Az out and try to compromise if he apologized. And idk if Rhys and Cas know the half of it bc Az purposefully plays music super loud to annoy her. I mean I honestly don’t blame reader for not inviting him or the boys for going out with the girls instead of staying with Az bc he’s being petty. He literally did it to himself, it would be different if he had a valid reason for not liking the reader but let’s be honest he really doesn’t.
Just my thoughts but I absolutely love the story and can’t wait to see what comes next ❤️‍🔥
This is definitely also valid. So az was having a bad day, literally doesn’t mean he had to be a prick about it but he was, and now he has to deal with those consequences!! We’re putting them thru hell for the plot of course but it’s so real to feel this way 🫶🏻
He just REALLY doesn’t want to like reader 😏
She’s not being unreasonable in her feelings. I can hold a mfing grudge and like you said, az isn’t making the effort to apologize (yet).
Thank you tho I love it sm I’m so excited for moreeee 🥰🥰
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iloveyoumorethansoup · 10 months
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Anyways back to keeping my diary and talking about my normal day. I work 10 and a half hour shifts 6 days a week🫠🫠 gotta pay for college!! But also?? The drama has really stepped up its game this year. Last years drama was sometimes people were mean to me for being too nice and I was never allowed to pack orders in the kitchen cause people would get there 30 mins early just to pack. This year?? Oh god. I can’t even try to fit it in 30 tags I know I can’t
So we have a lot of new people. A lot of people have left since last year (it’s a miserable job and they burn thru people like crazy). The girl who I trained with my old bestie is still there. We have a new host who is my new bestie. We have a new pizza dude. And we have a new server. There are lots more hires but these are the only important ones right now.
So the new server started seeing the pizza dude and it Did Not work out. Like as in saying that he was getting signs from god that she’s bad news and bringing bad energy into his life and this that and the other. It’s important to note that the server is honestly super sweet and in general a really loving person. So pizza dude is talking about red flags all the time. He starts a conversation with a guy about my old friend and my new friend overhears this and is like hey I might be wrong but I’m pretty sure this is what they were saying about you.
So pizza guy Flips Out. He accuses her of witchcraft and doing witchcraft with her eyes and how he’s always dropping stuff whenever she comes near and that anyone who associates with the server is bad news. And pizza guy is in general just kind of a dick to a lot of people. We have bread that comes with everyone. People come specifically for it all the time. Pizza guys are in charge of bread. He Never puts bread in the oven no matter how many times you ask him to. Managers keep having problems with him. He’s always like what are you too good for the cold bread?? Yeah dude we gotta sell fresh stuff! We can’t make a plate of just cold bread. That goes to the bottom of the plate duh.
So at this point he hates the new server my old friend and my new friend. I get along with all of these people and they keep me updated with what he says to them. So as my depression keeps getting worse I’m in the back more and more cause I just can’t stomach talking to customers and fake smiling and laughing. And by this point I know that he and the server are on bad terms and that he upset my new friend but that’s kinda it. We’re both working and we’re kinda the only ones around and he’s talking to me and he’s like hey are you any good at reading people? And I’m like decently why? And he asks what I think of him. I know enough about him that I just tell him I haven’t thought of it much. He says I act my age unlike the other women here and I’m not as childish as they are. He tells me he thinks I’m 24 and I correct him that I’m 20
So this dude starts talking to me about how gossip is a form of witchcraft (this is beginning to get repetitive man who cursed this dude and set the witches on him) and the whole time he just talks like a preacher and I’m just like I don’t know man I just work here! And he’s like oh people think I have anger issues cause of the way I move and speak. And I’m like well I’d say anger issues are when you can’t control your anger and regularly take it out on other people. Knowing he does that. And he agrees with me?? I don’t know somehow I won this dude over without trying to. I’m still not a fan of his
The more days I spend back there the more he’s flirting with me and it’s like uh u realize I’m gay right?? And then I find out he’s actually flirting with all of the hosts to make the server jealous. Usually he only does it when she’s around. This guy tells me how much he loves my smile and eyes all the time even on her days off. I brought up in conversation again that I was 20 and he was just so surprised. I already told him?? Also it’s getting really really annoying that I have to tell him to put bread in the oven cause I’m the only one who he listens to!! Awesome I get bread whenever I need it. Less awesome: I have to wait a good 5 mins for it to run through the oven and there should always be bread in there. Also we do use elbows to fight for that bread so it’s annoying when I’m the only one that gets listened to and then I gotta fight for it on top of that. So I ask on everyone’s behalf. Also I have to ask for empty pizza boxes for the server cause he ignores her completely when she talks to him.
Last day I ran into him tho I went outside to sit and he was outside preaching to some of the other pizza guys. And you’ll never guess what he was going on about! Witchcraft! In this conversation he said that phones were the devil and astrology was evil and manipulative and that it makes people believe they are a certain way when they aren’t (which. He had me at yeah I’m not a fan of astrology cause it makes people think they gotta fit into categories and lost me at so it’s evil witchcraft that manipulates people) and how ouija boards open doors to this world and actually so do tarot cards tarot cards are evil witchcraft and just the same. He also said that people don’t actually get tired they just believe they’re tired. Also that all of his friends are gonna betray him in the end so phones are evil and if his friends are gonna betray him why would he ever even need a phone
What I find the funniest about this is how he’s accusing all these girls of witchcraft. And I’m the favorite. As if I didn’t study paganism and love my tarot cards. And handmade ouija boards in middle school. I really shouldn’t be his favorite
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