#I also don't want to fight seam though
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What One Piece Characters Are Like In A Relationship...(Part Two)
Request: "Greetings, could I ask for headcanons of what Buggy the Clown and Dracule Mihawk are like in a relationship?"
Pairings: Buggy x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Shanks x Reader
Part One (The Straw Hats) here / One Piece Masterlist
Buggy the Clown:
- It's impossible to overestimate the sheer vulnerability it took for Captain Buggy to speak genuinely and honestly when he finally confessed his feelings for you. A man who's spent so much of his life hidden behind a painted facade and a wicked smile, he tried to fight his truth for so long, forcing himself to treat you like just another pirate on his ship when there's nothing you could do that wouldn't stand out to him. The sincerity with which you speak to him, the way you don't gawk at his appearance, the fact that you never engage in the mutinous whispers of those around you. It wasn't long until you became his most called upon ally on the ship, through genuine appreciation for your insights but also his intense need to have his eyes on you at all times.
- With his feelings out in the open, Buggy is still conflicted in the way he showers his affections upon you. Behind closed doors the man is your personal jester, cracking jokes and using his gifts to keep you smiling and entertained constantly. Honestly that man would do anything to keep you looking at him, the warmth of your gaze enough to undo decades of cruelty and ridicule.
- Around the crew though, your captain likes to keep his adoration discrete. There are a lot of people out there that would love to have something they could use against him, and he knows deep down he'd surrender everything he's ever worked for if it stopped a single hair on your head being harmed. So despite how Buggy feels like he is bursting at the seams with joy every time he sees you, he insists on keeping things a secret for as long as the two of you can, lasting on longing looks and subtle contact for the price of your safety.
- That does add a certain desperation to the clown's behaviour towards you though, not that you mind. The moment you close a door he'll be on with you in a flash, all hungry lips and pressing his chest flush with yours to bathe in your warmth while he still can. He needs you overwhelming all of his senses, to fill his heart back up before he has to face the day without you again. Sometimes when he knows you'll be apart for a while, he'll tell the crew he's lost a hand somewhere on the ship so he can leave one tucked securely in your pocket, subtly interlacing his fingers with yours whenever the day gets to be too much; the powers he once feared made him a devil, now giving him the chance to stay by an angel's side forevermore.
Dracule Mihawk:
- A life as the world's greatest swordsman can be a lonely one. Going wherever he's paid to go. Never putting down roots. Knowing that one day he might just find someone desperate enough for his title to kill for it. Mihawk had accepted this life with a certain pride, until he found something else he wanted to be the best at.
- Another night in another island bar had his path crossing with yours, the briefest of exchanges leaving an aching hole in his chest like he'd never experienced before. It was like your smile sent a spark his way that had his whole body going up in smoke, a fire lit inside him that he had only felt once before; for his pursuit of swordsmanship. He knew nothing would quell that desire except giving in fully to the devotion.
- Dracule is extremely attentive to your every whim. He's never really been tied down before he enjoys the grounding that comes from having someone else to influence each of his days. Nothing fulfils him like making one of your wishes come true, his dedication to your partnership unwavering no matter what the world throws at you both.
- He would take enormous pride in teaching you a few of his sword-fighting moves, framing the sessions as just a way to share in his two favourite things (swords and you), but in the back of his mind also very conscious that a time may come when you need to defend yourself from his enemies. Naturally he'll find a way throw your practice fights so the two of you end up on the floor together, his sword cast aside as he exclaims that you are the only person in all the seas that has ever disarmed him so. Don't be expecting to leave that floor for a while once he has you in his grips.
Shanks:
- When you work in a popular port town you see a lot of pirates come and go. So it's pretty noticeable when a certain captain seems to do all his supply runs in your specific shop. Shanks is not at all subtle that he's continually coming to town for you, your first conversation enough for him to reveal that you might be the only person he's ever met that could convince him to give up the pirate life and settle down.
- You don't ask him to do that, instead the two of you settle for frequently being apart, but relishing in every second you get to spend together when you can. Every moment that Shanks is in your life is filled with fun, whether he's just dancing with you in your lovely little home, or convincing you to come with him on this next adventure, heading to a beautiful island where for once he's confident there's no risk of danger to you.
- When you have to be apart, Shanks will call you late in the night, narrating the view from his perch on the figurehead of his ship. He'll describe every detail of the stars glistening on the waves until the peachy rays of the sun trickle across the horizon, all while knowing the far superior view is wherever you are. He'll never reveal the true danger of his journeys to you, instead giving you joyful reimaginations of the troubles he's faced that day. You can tell when he's had a hard week from the pain in his voice though, so you take the chance to regale him with the softness of your peaceful day, recounting your every step and listening to his breathing slow as a weight lifts off his chest. He tells you how one day he can't wait to dock his ship one final time and fall in step with the life you've built, never having to hear your voice from so far away again.
- He lets that hope carry him through the most tempestuous nights at sea, through all the near misses at the hands of his enemies, through every day spent hiding from a bounty hunter and aching to hear your voice again. He finds himself picturing the two of you raising a family, a tiny crew of your own that will always unite you, the ultimate adventure Shanks can imagine, and one he never thought he'd long for until he thought about living it hand in hand with you.
One piece requests still open!
#writing#fanfiction#requests#one shot#one piece#one piece imagines#one piece headcanons#buggy the clown#buggy one piece#captain buggy#buggy x reader#dracule mihawk#one piece mihawk#mihawk x reader#dracule mihawk x reader#mihawk headcanons#buggy headcanons#shanks one piece#shanks x reader#shanks imagines#shanks headcanons
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Jack Harlow request: This idea just came to my mind, imagine Jack being out with the kids somewhere and a fan approaches him and gives him flowers. Of course he’s nice about it but the girls are like “ooooo- wait until mommy finds out.” And when you get home they tell you immediately before Jack gets a chance to. 🤣
Mommy's Day Off
"We're not done talking about this!", Jack's voice was gruff and loud, a giveaway that he was frustrated and upset. He was at his wits end in this argument but he wasn't willing to let sleeping dogs lie. He pulled at the curls at the back of his neck as he followed you around the house.
"Jack, lower your voice. Please", you bit back, your hands full of the kids' toys that were left around the house at the end of the night. "I just got Wes to sleep." You too were over this conversation, but you weren't ready to throw in the towel and forgive Jack yet.
You knew you were very lucky to be married to a man you considered your best friend, but that didn't mean you didn't have your issues. It was always the same argument with Jack; you would make plans for the family to spend time together, maybe a long weekend away or a Saturday outing, and his schedule would get in the way.
"You don't think I want to spend the weekend with my family instead of going to LA for some stupid press junket?" He didn't even feel like he had a leg to stand on in this fight, but he was contractually obligated to promote his new movie.
Jack felt like a broken record, having to defend his career tooth and nail against things he knew were more important to them. Sometimes he felt trapped in a cycle, forced to make sacrifices to keep his job afloat while also disappointing the people he cared about most, and it kept happening over and over again.
"I don't know, Jack", you sighed, as you adjusted the pillows on the couch, finding a stray baby sock in the crack of the cushions. "Do you?" You knew that was a low blow, but you were upset and caught up in the moment. You turned to face him, the hurt lingering on his features as he looked at you. "You're gonna leave this weekend, and I'll be here, alone, with three kids. Its not fair how much slack I have to pick up when you're not here."
Jack let out a breath through his nostrils, his jaw flexing as he tried to calm his breathing. "I keep telling you we could get a nanny or my mom offered to help you with the kids, but you keep shooting the idea down." You could feel your body tense, the grip you had on one of Aaliyah's stuffies strong enough to rip the head off at the seams. "Why are you so stubborn about it?"
It may have been unintentional, but Jack sure knew how to push your buttons.
"Because I want my husband here!" All of the items you had in your arms flew across the room when you threw your hands up. Jack stepped back to avoid a heavy plastic toy landing on his foot, as well as your wrath.
"I love Maggie, and she's such a great grandma, but its not fair to ask her to help out all the time, and I sure as hell don't want a stranger in our house around the kids! I want the man that I started this family with? Is that really so much to as for?" God, it felt good to get that off of your chest, even though you knew it didn't solve anything.
"Baby, lower your voice." Jack regretted shushing you as soon as he said it, the look you gave him enough to shut him up for the rest of the night. You took in a sharp breath, prepared to give him a piece of your mind when you heard a cry out in the distance. "Great", you mumbled under your breath, your teeth gritted together.
"Go get him, I'll clean up this mess up", Jack whispered as you left him standing alone in the living room.
****
The next morning, Jack's eyes fluttered open to the sound of Aaliyah running through the house. "Daddy, what're you doing in the libing room?" He sat up, trying to stretch out the crick in his neck from sleeping uncomfortably all night. "Daddy was silly last night, he got in trouble with mama."
Her face scrunched in a way that made him chuckle, her arms draping around his neck as she played with his ears. "Did you get put in time out?"
"I did", Jack lowered his voice to a whisper when he saw you walk past him. "An eight hour time out." He picked her up and headed into the kitchen.
Brooklyn was already eating her cereal and you had a fussy Wes balanced in your arms as you made Aaliyah some oatmeal. Jack had a moment of panic when he looked at the time. "Wait, aren't the girls going to be late for school?"
"We don't have school today. It's President's Day", Brooklyn said with a smile.
"That's right", Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through his messy chestnut curls, "I forgot all about that."
He looked over to you, his stomach in knots after your fight last night. You could feel his eyes on you, but sleep did nothing to fix your frustrations, so you weren't interested in making nice this morning. "I've got the studio reserved today and then I was thinking we could grab dinner tonight when I get home." That had the girls excited, both giddy about going to their favorite restaurant in Louisville. "Sound good to you, babe?" He was desperate to hear you say anything, even a single word.
"Actually, that's not gonna work for me", you uttered with a sarcastic tone. You handed Wesley to Jack, who balanced him on his forearm. "I'm gonna take the day off, go to brunch with my friends, maybe make it a spa day. You can take the kids with you to the studio."
Jack let out a frustrated breath. "I was really looking to buckle down and get some work done today", he spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "I think the girls would rather spend the day with their grandparents. I'll call them."
"Don't bother." You stopped him before he could grab his phone off the counter. "Your dad is spending the day with Clay, and I'm treating your mom to a well deserved day off." You turned to the girls, "doesn't a day with Daddy sound like fun?" Aaliyah let out a squeal of excitement. "Will Uncle Urby be there?" Brooklyn asked, a little bit hesitant about spending the day cooped up in a soundproof room, but if her favorite uncle was there, she could suck it up.
"Yeah, I'll make sure he comes", Jack said as he shot off a text to his best friend. "We're gonna get dressed!" Brooklyn took Aaliyah by the hand and they both ran up stairs to their room.
Alone in the kitchen, Jack turned to you. "I know you're upset with me, but this is unfair. You know how much pressure I'm under to finish this album."
You let out a hum as you gently grazed a finger along Wesley's cheek. "Jack, in all the years we've been married and been a family, I have always been incredibly understanding of you and your work. I've stood by you through everything, and I have never asked you to choose between us or your music career, because I know how important it is to you But I am exhausted. I'm taking this day for me, and you're just going to have to figure it out." You gave Wesley a kiss on the forehead and walked away before Jack could get another word out.
****
"Aaliyah, sit in your seat, please." Jack wiped the sweat off of his brow as he picked the diaper bag off the ground and placed it underneath the car seat.
Getting all three kids into the car proved to be more of a challenge than he was expecting, and he was already 30 minutes late for his slot at the studio and he hadn't even left the house. Wesley had a blowout right after he changed him into his clothes, and Aaliyah was having a meltdown over one of her stuffies.
"No! I need Mr. Effie! I can't leave the house without him", Aaliyah spoke through tears, her arms crossed over her chest. "Baby, we don't have time to find your stuffed elephant, we have to go." Jack said with an exasperated tone. "Now, please, sit in your seat."
"I can't go without him!", she cried out again. "Aaliyah, that's enough." Jack was trying his hardest to control his tone.
Brooklyn looked up from her iPad. "Dad, Mr. Effie is in the laundry room. Liyah got some apple sauce on him yesterday so mom had to wash him."
"Okay, watch your siblings. I'll be right back", Jack shut the car door and jogged into the house to find the stuffed animal. He frantically searched through the pile of clean clothes until he saw a peak of the elephant's trunk underneath. He snatched the toy and ran out the house.
"Thank you Daddy!", Aaliyah wiped her face and cuddled Mr. Effie close. Jack hopped into the front seat and turned to face the girls. "You're welcome. Now listen, I need to get work done today, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay? No tears, no screaming, just being the sweet girls I know you can be."
"Yes, Dad", both girls said in unison as Jack pulled out of the garage and headed to the studio.
When they arrived downtown, Jack's head was buried so far in the diaper bag to find a pacifier for Wesley, he barely noticed the young woman who approached him in the parking lot.
"Excuse me, are you Jack Harlow?" Jack's head shot up and was on a swivel to see who was speaking. He had a moment of panic that he was being approached by some paps and that was the last thing he needed right now. The girl to the left of him looked harmless enough, nervous even, as she gave him a big smile.
"Sorry, you scared me", Jack chuckled, slinging the diaper bag on his shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm-I'm just such a big fan of yours." She stuttered over her words, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you, that's so sweet of you to say. I've gotta get inside, but thank-"
"Hi!" Aaliyah waived at the fan from the backseat. "I'm Aaliyah! What's your name? " She was still too young to understand Jack's career and fame, and thought he just had a lot of friends everywhere they went.
Jack was quick to shut down the interaction. "Baby, get your stuff together so we can go inside." He was very protective of his family, and even though most of his fans were nice, he tried to prevent exposing the girls to the public as much as possible. He turned back to the fan who was now holding a bouquet of flowers in his face. "Oh, are these for me?"
"Yeah, your music has meant so much to me, I always said if I ever met you, I'd return the favor." Jack felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment, it always meant so much to him when he came across a fan of his. "Thank you, that's incredibly nice of you." He gave her a hug and took a selfie with her before she took off.
"Daddy, those flowers are beautiful! Was that your girlfriend?", Aaliyah asked, her eyes wide at the beautiful bouquet. Jack knitted his brow together. "No baby, I don't have a girlfriend, I only have eyes for mama."
"She's not his girlfriend, but she is a secret admirer", Brooklyn teased as she jumped out of the car. "Mama's gonna be mad when she finds out."
"What's a secret amirer?", Aaliyah asked with a tilt of her head. "Its someone who secretly likes you, and she wasn't a secret admirer, she was just a nice fan." Jack grabbed the car seat out of the car, Wesley sleeping peacefully through all of the commotion. "Let's not tell Mama about this okay? I'm already in the dog house with her." He grabbed Aaliyah's hand as they rushed into the building. "Let's get inside, I'm already so late."
"Dog house?" Aaliyah questioned, looking up at Brooklyn, who just shrugged.
The three year old was learning a lot of new phrases today.
****
It was after dark when you finally got home. You noticed Jack's SUV in the garage when you pulled up into the driveway. You immediately felt guilty for leaving him by himself today, as soon as you left the house, but you had to admit, a day off was exactly what you needed. You had the stress massaged, waxed off, and plucked out of you with tweezers, and you were feeling a lot better.
Still, you knew it wasn't right to leave a fight unresolved, so you brought a peace offering, grabbing the boxes of pizza from your family's favorite place, out of the passenger seat before you headed inside. The house was eerily quiet, with three kids that was rarely a good sign, but everything seemed to be in once piece.
Its wasn't that you didn't trust Jack to take care of things, he was a fantastic father, but even you lost track of the house after a long day.
You flipped on the kitchen light, your breath hitching at the sight of the beautiful bouquet on the counter, full of your favorite flowers. You took a moment to sniff at the roses, your stomach fluttering at the romantic gesture.
You got so caught up in your emotion today, you let yourself forget for a moment that you were married to a man who made you feel incredibly loved and cherished every single day. Sure, you had your problems, but the good always outweighed the bad.
"Mama! Did you have a good spa day?" Brooklyn collapsed into a hug with you as soon as she saw you, making you stumble back. "I did. Did everything go okay today while I was gone?"
"We got to touch all the pretty buttons on the computer today!" Aaliyah exclaimed as she climbed into a dining chair. "You did? Did you behave for Daddy?", you asked, giving the girls some pizza. "Uncle Urby let us take pictures with his camera, it was a lot of fun", Brooklyn chimed in, her mouth full of cheese.
"The girls were very good, I was very proud of them." You felt Jack's presence as he walked into the kitchen, wearing a pair of sweats, his curls hanging in his face.
"Hi", he whispered with a small smile when you looked at him. He wouldn't admit it, but between being upset over your fight and taking care of the kids, he didn't get any work done today. He couldn't get you off of his mind, and all he wanted to do was hug you and apologize profusely.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" You grabbed Jack's hand and led him into the hallway, out of sight of the girls. As soon as you stopped and turned, you pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his neck. Jack sighed contently as he held you against his chest, his hands roped around your waist.
"I hate fighting with you", you mumbled into his sweatshirt. "I do too", Jack admitted, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You pulled back, stroking Jack's beard between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I never should have guilted you for working. I did exactly what I said I'd never do." You felt tears start to build in your lashes, the lump in your throat building.
"You were right, though", Jack wiped the wetness under your eye away with his thumb, "its not fair how much work you have to do when I'm not here. I feel so lucky that our kids have you, because today was a lot, and I can only imagine what you have to put up with every day."
You giggled, pulling him in by the neck for a quick kiss. "I wouldn't change it for the world." He felt so much better now that you two had made up and he had you back in his arms.
"Thank you so much for the flowers too, they're beautiful." You squeezed his hand affectionately as you walked back into the kitchen. Jack had no idea what you were talking about. "You're welcome?", he did a terrible job hiding the inflection in his voice. It didn't connect until he saw the flowers the fan gave him this morning. He'd completely forgotten about them in the rush of the day.
"Mama! Did you see the flowers?" Aaliyah ran over to you, and you picked her up, walking over to the flowers. "I did, they're beautiful, Daddy did a wonderful job."
"Daddy didn't buy these flowers", your middle child had zero filter or ability to keep a secret. Jack cowered, realizing his apology to you was short lived. You looked over at him. "What is she talking about?"
"He got them from a pretty lady. His secret admiral", her genetic dimple showed as she smiled big, so happy with herself for remembering the words. "Your what?" Your eyes were still on Jack, who was nervously biting at his thumb nail.
"Huh?" he perked up, pretending he didn't hear a word either of you said.
"We told him you were gonna be upset, Mama." Brooklyn admitted, biting another piece off of her slice of pizza.
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#jack harlow#jackman thomas harlow#jackharlow#jackman harlow#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow imagine#jack harlow concepts#jack harlow fanfic
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Hii, I have a request Tim Bradford X Grey!reader, I really liked the other one where she is Sergeant Grey’s adoptive daughter.
So basically she is a detective in another station, because you know, conflict of interests since she is his daughter.
she is younger than Tim, so age gap, 25 or so. She is a complete badass fr
and she goes to an undercover mission, a fancy party or something like that, alone.
and things kinda get complicated, so the sergeant of the station where she works calls for backup, her father, because they are closer to where she is and also because he thought Wade would want to know his daughter is in danger.
so they get the call, and go to the place, and at first they don’t know she is grey’s daughter. They didn't know he had another daughter and that she was a detective, just because doing this dangerous job he was trying to protect her.
but she was handling things beautifully💅🏻💅🏻, and once they got there she had the suspects under control and was just slightly injured (like her arm idk). And she did it in a dress and in high heels 💅🏻💅🏻. I imagine she would be very sassy like Grey, also kind brag about what she just did.
and then she starts flirting with Tim, HARD, in front of everyone and he starts blushing, absolutely melting because of her duh.
everyone thought that was it, but no, she then transfers to her father station and from there her and Tim start dating, even if they shouldn’t, so once a few months has passed (and EVERYBODY knew but her father 💀💀, Angela and Nyla were for sure teasing them about it) he goes to Wade and gives up his position (Metro Tim has me in a chokehold 🥵🥵, y/n’s will agree with me for sure, with that cargo pants damn)
and that’s it, sorry it’s pretty long and there are for sure some mistakes, I’m not a native speaker 🥺🥺. Thank u if you will do it ❤️❤️❤️
Give it all
Tim Bradford x Grey!reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, reader is Grey's daughter, swearing if you squint, canon typical violence
Word count: 3.386
Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I know it's a hell of a lot late, but I didn't get to write it, because you sadly spoilerd me (I was mid season 2 when you sent your request I think) and I didn't even know what you meant with the cargo pants at first😂 But now that I've watched til the end of season 5 (still waiting with bated breath for season 6 to air in Germany with German sync) I can finally write it.
And I know about those cargo pants now and I have to agree with you. Metro Tim is🔥!
Also, I made the reader a little older, just to stay in the possibilities of becoming a detective at a young age (don't know if it's really possible to become one at 25, so she's 27).
Still hope you'll like it, though!
I suck at titles I'm sorry.
Enjoy!
God damn it.
Why did everything you so neatly planned with your team have to go bust?
It was supposed to be an easy mission - get in, get the intel, get out.
Simple as that.
But nothing ever really goes to plan, does it?
Not to mention the dress you were wearing, intoxicating yet so unpractical. Or the heels at your feet, making it all the more harder to fight.
You were worried about the seam of the dress ripping, as you kicked the guard in front of you down to the ground, sending him asleep with a blow to his face.
It was pretty, but so hard to move in.
"Grey, get your ass out of there and wait for backup!" your commander yelled into the small earpiece you were wearing, making you flinch at his high pitched voice.
If you hadn't known his face, you'd mistaken him for a woman.
Swinging at the man in front of you, you hit his jaw, your fist stinging at the harsh contact. The man reeled back, releasing an angry yell, as he made a run for you.
God damn it.
Ducking away from him you kicked at his legs, using the momentum to disbalance him. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself rather quickly, before he pulled a knife out of his boot.
Really?
Groaning inwardly, you tried to avoid the shiny blade, dodging the blow with a jump to the side. It grazed your skin though, a line of blood soon trickling down your left arm.
So much for the dress now being ruined.
The man ran after you, but you pushed a cart into his way. He fell down on it, his weight being his disadvantage, the knife clattering to the ground.
You pinned him down from behind, cuffing him with the binders you'd found earlier. He tried to push you backwards, but you kneed his groin hard, causing him to cry out in agony, as he stopped struggling.
Pushing him to the ground where the other man was lying, you did the same to the unconscious one, tying his wrists together.
"Backup is there!" Granville gave through the earpiece, your eyes rolling at the information.
A bit late, weren't they?
Huffing, you left the men behind, returning to the grand hall where the gala was being held.
Your dress was ruined, stained with the blood that continued to trickle down your arm, dropping to the floor, and your feet hurt.
The room was earily silent, no music or chattering people. Police crowded the room, guns drawn.
You groaned, when you spotted your father amongst them, rolling your eyes for the millionth time this evening.
They watched you, as you walked towards them, your father's eyes widening at the blood. "You're late." you announced loudly, stopping right in front of the aligned officers. "They're in the office back there."
Wade rolled his eyes, motioning for some of the officers to gather the attackers, and for the rest to back down.
God only knew where your constant eye rolling came from.
"Get an ambulance!" he shouted, as the crowd started to disperse, before he walked over to you. Your eyes swiped over the officers, stopping at a particular handsome face.
He was tall, walking towards you and your father, with a female officer on his tail. "Sarge, what about Torres?" he wanted to know, eyes darting to you in curiosity for a brief moment.
Tilting your head, you gave him a once-over. "Didn't know mid Wilshire had such handsome officers." you pointed out, causing his gaze to snap back to yours.
Your father inhaled sharply, not saying anything though. They didn't know you were his daughter, him trying to shield you from threats.
Bradford, as his name tag read, grew a bit red in the face. Clearing his throat, he returned the gesture of giving you a once-over.
"Oh, upstairs are three more guards." you told your father, crossing your arms over your chest. "They should be still asleep, like the ones in the office."
One of his fingers tapped on his waistband, as he tried to calm himself. You were an adult, a detective working at a station farther down the city. You knew what you were doing.
He was still worried as hell, though.
"Good work." he muttered, avoiding to look at you. He couldn't deny that he preferred you to have a normal job, not risking your life when going undercover like this.
Your gaze went back to Sargeant Bradford, the stripes on his sleeves matching your father's. "I'm detective Y/N Grey." you introduced yourself, holding out your non bloody hand for him to shake.
His breath hitched in his throat at the name, still shaking your hand as he introduced himself as well. "Sargeant Tim Bradford."
"I thought we'd talked about this!" your father interrupted you with a hiss, just as your eyes were about to roam the broad figure of Tim Bradford once more.
Rolling your eyes yet again, you smirked at Tim, ignoring the fuming form of your father right beside you. "Nice to meet you."
Some of the other officers where already looking at you, watching the commotion. The woman that had followed Tim - officer Chen - bit her lip to stop from laughing.
Tim's face grew a deeper red in the meantime.
"Are you in a relationship?" you wanted to know, his eyes widening, as your father grabbed your non injured arm, deciding he had enough.
"Look, the ambulance is there." He tried to be calm, his grip harsh though, as he left you no choice but to follow him.
Sending Tim a wink, you smiled. "Hope we'll meet again, sargeant Bradford."
He didn't answer, only watching your retreating figure with deep interest.
_____
After a rather tiresome talk with your father, resulting in both of you shouting at each other, your captain decided to transfer you - to mid Wilshire.
Your father wasn't happy, knowing he'd now have to watch his own daughter getting in harms way.
Things with Tim were getting interesting, after a few weeks had passed.
You'd kept flirting with him, even though he was a bit hesitant at first. Now that you had transferred, everyone knew who's daughter you were.
He didn't want to end on your father's bad side, though still giving into your flirts after a while. Somewhere along the way he'd asked you out on a date.
It resulted in marvelous sex and more dates. It had clicked instantly, things going beautifully between you.
Feelings sparked, soon resulting in a confession.
You'd been walking through the park in the evening, watching the water from a bridge you were standing on.
His arm was around your waist, his warmth engulfing you. You'd been going on dates for two months now, just having left the restaurant. He'd planned to do it in a more romantic way, telling you how he felt.
As the water rippled beneath you, the moon and the lanterns shining down on it, he turned you towards him, your gaze finding his.
"I'm glad you transferred here." he began, taking your hands in his, entwining your fingers. You leaned more into him, heart beating faster in your chest.
"I'm glad we met and I'm glad you still kept flirting with me, even when I was hesitant about it at first." he continued, thumb brushing over your knuckles. "And I'm glad you accepted to go out on a date with me. I really like you, Y/N... I want you to know, that I've grown feelings for you."
He held his breath, waiting for you to respond.
Your lips split in a broad smile, leaning even closer. "Well, I'm glad that you feel this way." you replied, face inching closer. "Because I've grown feelings for you too, Tim."
He sighed in relief, tugging you closer to cover your lips with his. You returned the kiss, his hands on your waist, as yours brushed through his hair, locking behind his neck.
He was like a drug for you.
He'd swept you off his feet when you first saw him, catching your gaze in an instant. For him it was the same, even with the blood that trickled down your arm, the light scar a reminder of the night you met.
_____
"So, when do we get an invitation for a double date?" Angela quipped, stirring her coffee, as she sat down opposite you. Cocking a brow you looked up from your phone, that goofy smile still glued to your face without you noticing.
You'd been texting with Tim, his own shift a later one that had yet to start.
Angela's smile grew warmer, her head tilting. Your brows furrowed at her, confused about the way she was smiling at you.
"Don't act like you don't know what I mean." she told you, eyes narrowing the slightest bit. "It's obvious that you and Tim are dating."
Your cheeks grew warmer, eyes looking down on the table. "Please don't tell my father about it." you asked of her, knowing that denying the obvious wouldn't get you very far.
She huffed in amusement, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I won't tell him."
"Tell whom what?" someone spoke up behind you - Nyla. She poured herself a cup of coffee as well, joining you at the table. "Tell her father that her and Bradford are dating."
Nyla made a dismissive gesture, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it's so obvious, we wouldn't even have to tell him. He'll find out on his own."
Eyes widening, you sat up straighter.
Where you really this obvious?
They must have read your thoughts, snickering into their cups. "It's cute." Angela pointed out, sending you a wink. "But yes, it really is this obvious."
_____
"We can't go on like this." you told Tim the same evening after your talk with Angela and Nyla, forking at the food on your plate.
Tim cocked a brow, wondering what you were talking about. Looking up from your plate, you placed the fork down. "I mean us."
He froze, the pasta falling from his own fork back on the plate, before he placed it down as well. "What do you mean?"
He couldn't shake the fear that suddenly gripped him, eminent in his voice. He'd thought you'd love him?
"We can't keep this a secret anymore." you explained, leaning on your elbows. "Angela and Nyla are constantly teasing me about it. It's obvious, everyone knows except for my father - he would have decapitated me already if he'd know."
His heart stumbled, though relief filled him at your words.
You weren't breaking up with him.
"Then we'll make it official." he proposed, leaning forward as well. You bit your lip, contemplating it. Someday they would find out anyway.
You nodded, sending him a smile. "Let's make it official."
_____
You should have known it would be a bad idea.
You had a deja vu at the way your father was yelling at you, whilst your mother was shaking her head constantly at him.
She knew better than to interrupted him.
It felt like the time you'd set the bathroom on fire, trying to alter a dress of yours when you were young.
Your father had his very own opinion about you trying to be a fashion designer.
You were waiting for him to finish his speech, knee bouncing as you stared at the wall behind him.
He inhaled deeply and you used the opportunity to interrupt him.
"I love him." you told him firmly, standing up from the chair.
Wait, what?
You loved him?
Well, yes, you did.
"I love him and I won't leave him just because you tell me to. You don't like it? Well, you don't have to. I'm an adult, I'm 27 and I can decide on my own. I can choose who I love and who I date, I don't have to ask for your permission."
He was stunned, noticing once more that you were in fact, an adult. You're mother was smiling to herself, never having had any problems with you dating Tim, even if he was a few years older than you.
Wade grumbled something to himself, wondering when you'd grown so much. To him you were still his little girl, he had to protect you.
"I'm okay with leaving mid Wilshire, if I have to. But I won't be leaving Tim." you clarified, crossing your arms over your chest.
He shook his head, wiping over his face with his hand in a tired manner. "Since when are you this grown?" he wanted to know, voice defeated. "You're my little girl, I have to protect you!"
You couldn't help the smile that fought its way onto your lips. "Dad, you don't have to protect me - protect Dom, not me. She's still so young. I'm a grown-up, I can look after myself."
Luna chuckled, agreeing with a tilt of her head. "Our daughter should be free to decide what she wants." she spoke, putting a hand on your father's arm. "Let her date him, don't ruin this for her."
He sighed heavily, head hanging low. Nodding, he looked at his wife, before he looked at you.
"But you're not leaving mid Wilshire."
_____
"I have to." Tim pressured, pecking your lips. "And I want to. Metro is great, it's an opportunity I want to take."
He had proposed to transfer to the metro, after a position had been cleared, giving him a chance he wanted to take. He secretly hoped he'd get the job - it would make things a lot easier and he had thought about it even before you two met.
He'd be going to your father today, giving up his position if the metro was willing to take him in. He'd already talked to their chief, meeting her in a few minutes to discuss things.
You were nervous about it.
Sure, you knew he wanted to go to the metro, but you were worried he'd regret it. But you knew you had to let him do this.
They rest of the day went on like chewing gum.
Whilst you were working on some cases, he talked to the metro. You bad trouble concentrating, Angela soon noticing.
"What's up with you?" she wanted to know, leaning on the small wall that divided your desk and the hallway. Looking up from the papers you'd read three times already, you pushed them aside.
"Tim's trying for a position at the Metro." you told her, leaning your head on your hand. Her eyes widened, letting go of the air inside her lungs. "Wow."
You nodded, biting your lip. "Im happy if he gets the position, but I fear he's doing it because he feels pressured to do." you explained. "I don't want him to regret his decision."
Angela shook her head, adjusting her position. "He won't." she assured you. "Tim knows what he wants. Just as he knows that he wants you. He'd have done everything in his power to ensure that, believe me. If he tries for the position, than it's because he wants to."
You nodded, trying to belive her words.
You really hoped she was right.
_____
Tim wrought his hands nervously, trying to calm his racing heart, before he would face your father.
He had been a bit harsher on Tim since he knew you were dating, but he refused to let it bother him.
Entering the watch commander's office, he braced himself for the conversation ahead of him.
Wade looked up when he entered, putting his pen down and crossing his arms on the desk. "Bradford, what can I do for you?"
Tim closed the door, sitting down on the chair opposite Wade's. "I want to transfer to the Metro." he spoke, getting right to the topic.
Grey's eyes widened - even if he kept a closer eye on him due to the relationship with his daughter, he wasn't willing to give him up that easily.
"Are you sure?" he wanted to know, his eyes wandering to your desk for a brief moment. He couldn't really see you, but he knew you were there - and Angela was as well, still talking to you.
Tim nodded, licking his lip. "I've talked to their chief and their willing to take me in." he explained, swallowing. "I think it's better this way."
Wade rubbed his chin, humming to himself.
"Are you doing this, because you want to, or because you feel forced to?" he inquired, gaze fixed on his Sargeant.
Tim cleared his throat, never breaking eye contact. "Because I want to." he responded. "I was thinking about going to the metro for a while now, not just because of your daughter."
Wade nodded, contemplating.
"Do you love her?"
Tim was taken aback by the question, still nodding fervently. "I do. Why?"
Wade nodded too, looking down on his desk. "Do you plan to marry her?"
Tim choked on his saliva, growing red as he desperately tried to regain his breath. Wade cocked a brow at his flustered face, eyes wide as Tim stared at his watch commander.
"I think it's a bit early for that." Tim gave back, swallowing hard. Wade huffed, leaning back in his chair with crossed arms. "But when the time comes, I would want to."
Wade was pleased to hear that, the smallest smile gracing his lips.
"Well then, if you want to transfer to the metro, I'm sad to see you go but I won't stop you." he told him, sitting more straight again. "It was my honor to be your watch commander."
Tim looked up from his lap, where his eyes had landed moments before, disbelieve evident in his features. Grey sent him a smile, nodding slightly.
"It was my honor, too, Sarge."
_____
You didn't see Tim, before you went home that evening.
Did he get the position?
When he entered his house - you had a key, already having cooked - you couldn't help the impatience that overtook your senses.
"Did you get the position?" you wanted to know, greeting him in the hallway.
He cocked a brow at you, fighting a smirk. "Let me get home first." he chided, shaking his head as the smirk won.
Rolling your eyes, you walked back into the living room, waiting for him to join you at the dining table.
When he did, his hands found your hips, tugging you closer to kiss you. You returned it, sighing contently. He deepened the kiss, but you separated from him.
"Did you get it?"
He rolled his eyes at how impatient you were, but smiled down at you eventually. "I did." You smiled back, happy for him, as you kissed him again.
He smiled into the kiss, before he leaned back. "And I talked to your father."
Your smile fell, a sigh leaving your lips.
"He didn't want to let me go, but he eventually agreed."
Nodding, you bit your lip, the smile slowly returning. You knew that Tim was one of the best at mid Wilshire, and your father knew too.
"Let's eat, baby."
_____
"Damn, those cargo pants make me want to stay instead of going to work."
You bit your lip as you watched him dress, the pants definitely going to be a weak spot for you. He smirked, capturing your lips with his own. "We have to get ready, I don't want to be late on my first day."
The pants in combination with the boots made you go weak in the knees. It was tempting to just seduce him and stay, but you knew he was right.
It didn't mean you wouldn't seduce him later in the evening, though.
"It'll be hard to concentrate when I see you in these pants." you admitted, staring at them. He chuckled, redirecting your gaze with a finger under your chin. "We have to go." he reminded you, grinning.
He had trouble not giving into you and stay as well, so he tried to get you two on your way to work as fast as possible.
You let him walk in front of you, so you could stare at his ass, as he ushered you out of the house.
Damn, those pants would be the death of you.
Tag List
@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm
@augustvandyne @rookietrek
#the rookie#the rookie imagine#the rookie x reader#the rookie x u#tim bradford#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford imagine#imagine
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Hello wonderful author. May I mayhaps request a ghoap + reader NSFW peice please. Maybe one that focuses on how Simon loves to make the reader watch him and Johnny 👉🏽👈🏽, or maybe it's reader taking control and making Ghost watch 👀. Johnny deserves a reward mayhaps.
Lol that one request that was like "mm ghoap" had me thinking things
Also keep up the good work! I like being able to sit back and relax and read your stuff!
𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐳𝐚, 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐚𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
...Because who watches the Ghoapwatchers? (the title may or may not have been an excuse to use this. please don't judge me. a lot. lmao)
Simon smoking can mean one of three things: he's anxious and/or pissed, he's just had some good fucking sex, or... he's anxious and/or pissed. And Simon is pissed.
At whom, might you ask? Well, rejoice, baby, because it ain't you this time even though he still wants to chuck that Live, Laugh, Love sign out of the fucking house. No. Simon's ire is reserved for Johnny, your resident killer Golden Retriever, and only Johnny.
And why, might you ask? Well, your cutie patootie lover boy happened to go and get himself hurt on the latest assignment. A routine one, goddamnit. It was unnecessary. Completely and absolutely unnecessary. And un-fucking-acceptable. At least in Simon's eyes.
Johnny argues that it was only a scratch (he's slightly downplaying it) but Simon doesn't give a fuck because only a scratch doesn't cut it. You got hurt, Johnny. End of story. And Simon's anxiety is through the fucking roof right now so a smoke has to suffice. But it doesn't. Nah, not this time.
Simon who puts out the last of his cigarette while staring Johnny down. You don't know what to do so you keep quiet until he tells you to take a seat next to Johnny. You started to protest until a single look made you shut the fuck up.
Simon who straddles Soap. Because what the fuck? Johnny would put up a fight if not for the fact that the bigger man has him pinned down and... oh. Oh shit. Their dicks are aligned. Wait, wait, Lt.—
Simon who starts to slowly grind against Soap's lap, eyes burning holes into the smaller man's. Soap feels the telltale signs of arousal, that fiery pit in his groin, and your eyes widen at what's taking place. Oh, yes. Johnny's about to get fucked silly in a second. You knew from experience.
Soap whose brow furrows the harder he gets and Simon doesn't stop. Knowing the fucker is just as hard as he is and FUCK—"Lt., wait, I—" "What did you tell me, Johnny?" Ghost doesn't stop grinding against him, doesn't do shit but grind and stare meanwhile Soap's falling apart at the seams. If his mind wasn't turning to mush, he'd be pissed but goddamn.
Simon who forbids you from touching yourself because the last thing you're gonna do is get your rocks off alone. You actually do protest this time ("Simon, what the fuck?") and Simon cuts a look at you, the same look he gave Johnny. The same look that tells you he's gonna fuck you just as silly when he's done with lover boy here. Aw, shit.
Soap whose words are lost to his moans and he's well on his way to soaking the crotch of his pants. And Simon doesn't stop. Not at all. Simon continues and it's like he's expecting an answer. "What did you tell me, Johnny?" Ghost emphasizes it with a particularly rough grind this time, enough for Johnny's already sensitive and leaking dick to throb and oh, god, Lt...
"I—shit, I—said I'd be—I said I'd be careful, Lt." Attaboy, soldier. "...Were you careful, Johnny?" The friction is too much. Simon rubs against him faster, puts a little more pressure on him, and it's a miracle he can even talk let alone think at this point. You're biting your lips, wringing your hands because you wanna touch. Yourself, them, it doesn't matter. You wanna touch and suck and fuck and... suck, fuck, and touch some more.
"Were. You. Careful. Johnny?" Punctuated with his hips. Every. Single. Word. And poor, poor Johnny, lost to the lust. Almost close, what the fuck are you doing to him, Lt.? "—NO," he manages to choke out in between gasps and moans and shit, he feels it coming—
—Well, he felt it coming because just as soon as he answered Simon, the mean bastard got up. Got up and left Johnny hard, crotch soaked with precum, and "What the fuck, Lt.?!"
Simon whose stare is both placid and intense; you'd be forgiven for thinking he's nonplussed. Except there's an obvious tent in his pants. Simon who stares you both down before simply saying "Bedroom." And he walks off. He doesn't look back. Doesn't have to. You'll be there. He's got you right where he wants you.
Soap who doesn't miss a beat, grabs your hand, and pulls you alongside him. Right behind Simon. Right to the bedroom. Yeah, it's about to be a long fucking day. And night.
#request fill.#cutie 𝓠.#call of duty#nsfw.#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty x reader#task force 141#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#ghost x reader x soap#poly palooza.#just 141 things.#just ghostly things.
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when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 4
hello yes i know it's been a while. this part has been a pain in my ass for months. i needed to get it just right and rewrote this thing so many times it's not even funny. and now, after editing it five times over the last two days, i'm just posting it. what's done is done. if i came back to it again i would have rewritten and i don't wanna do that. so here it is at least. there is also going to be at least one more part. i'm shooting for two more hopefully but i make no promises. the next part could very well be the last. i hope you enjoy :)
ao3 pt 1 pt 2 pt 3
cw: hospitals, dissociation, mentions of overdose, addiction, sobriety, and relapse
Eddie couldn’t move. His body was fighting against every instinct he should have in the moment. Someone could throw something directly at his head, and he wouldn’t react. The buzzing voices around him faded in and out as he stared at a chip in the wood of the table in front of him.
One of Steve’s doctors had finally come to speak with them. They couldn’t say anything for certain at the moment, but he was alive, and that’s all Eddie heard before his head went fuzzy again. His mind was still reeling, caught on the fact that he should have seen this. He should have noticed. He should have been able to help Steve. He failed the only person who’d ever loved him like that, the only one who ever would love Eddie like that. Because Steve was it for him. He’d always known that. No one else would even come close. No one could ever compare to Steve Harrington.
Not only had he failed Steve, but he’d failed Robin too. He was supposed to keep Steve safe. Robin couldn’t lose her best friend; Eddie knew that. He’d promised to take care of him. He couldn’t even do that one thing right. God, what was he going to tell Robin?
They didn’t want Steve to have visitors yet. Eddie managed to gather that much at least. It was still touch and go. He wasn’t awake. They weren’t sure if he ever would be. They’re flushing his system, but it’s really just a game of wait and see. They might be able to see him in the morning, but the doctor wasn’t making any promises. It all depended on how the rest of the night went. If he made it through. They couldn’t say anything else for certain. There had been a lot of drugs in his system. He’d been deprived of oxygen for a long time. There was no way to be sure what would happen next. That was all up to Steve now.
Eddie sat there in that uncomfortable waiting room chair for hours. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat or drink. He didn’t even get up to go to the bathroom. He just sat there, staring at the same chip in the wooden table. His friends all tried their best to get through to him. They tried to coax him into eating or drinking something, but their efforts were unsuccessful. No one could get through to him, and he preferred it that way. He deserved to sit in his own silence, letting his brain run reckless and spiral to the depths of his fears and anxiety. He had failed.
He noticed that the more time seemed to pass, the antsier his bandmates got. Though, he couldn’t be exactly sure that’s what was happening. Time escaped him.
Time was such a funny thing, wasn’t it? It can feel like it speeds up, slows down, or stops entirely, but it never changes. It’s always the same. It’s all in the imagination. Eddie was never that good at telling time as a child. Even as he grew older, he found it difficult to keep track. As he sat in that hospital, his entire life on the brink of falling apart at the seams, time was nowhere to be found. Nothing made sense. He just sat silently, staring. People moved around him, time passed, but Eddie didn’t move. He was trapped. His body was at the hospital, but his mind kept bouncing around. From his mom, to Wayne, to Steve on the bathroom floor. An endless cycle. Eddie was hanging on by a single thread: the only thread of life left in Steve.
Eddie would never survive if Steve didn’t make it out alive.
Eddie was aware that a long time had passed only by the ache in his joints and the dryness of his mouth. He also sort of needed to pee, but that wasn’t important. At least, not important enough to warrant getting up. He couldn't move. He needed to stay right in that spot. Nothing was more important than that.
“Come on, Ed,” Wayne’s gruff voice said from somewhere behind him. Eddie stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s time to go, kid. We’ve gotta get to the reception.”
Eddie stood silently, staring straight ahead at the marble headstone. His mother’s name was engraved with curly letters. Eddie hadn’t known that was possible. There were piles of flowers that he knew wouldn’t be there next week. He didn’t speak. His feet were glued to the soft ground beneath him. His suit was itchy and his worn dress shoes were a size too small. The tie around his neck was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe.
He broke down right there, tears rolling down his cheeks and gasping sobs bursting from his chest. He sank down to the ground at the foot of his mother’s fresh grave, clawing at the stupid red tie that his mother had bought him two years prior and the collar of his white dress shirt. Wayne sighed softly and sat down beside him, gently pulling his hands away and shushing Eddie as he loosened the tie. He let him collapse against his chest, tie almost completely off and the first two buttons of his shirt undone. Wayne held him through each wracking sob and stuttering breath, murmuring comfort until he’d gotten it all out.
“I couldn’t do it, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered hoarsely. “Why couldn’t I do it?”
“Do what, Ed?”
“Save her.”
Why couldn't he do it?
“Eddie, seriously, you need to eat something,” Jeff said, holding out a bag of chips from the vending machine. Eddie stared blankly at the bag, seeing but not really. He heard the words coming from Jeff’s mouth, but his body refused to respond. He couldn’t quite fully process what he was saying. It slipped out of his head before he got the chance, replaced with his mother’s voice, or Steve promising he was fine. He was fine. There was nothing wrong. It was just weed. Nothing more. He was fine.
He lied.
What else had Steve lied about? What else was he keeping from Eddie? Every time Steve came home late, claiming some generic excuse about work or traffic or whatever else it may have been, how often had those been lies? What had he been doing instead? Getting high? Shooting up in a parking garage somewhere? Was he ever with someone else? Someone who wasn’t Eddie?
Steve would never cheat. Eddie had to remind himself of that over and over again. Repeat it on a loop in his head. Anything to get it to stay there.
He would not cheat. He would not cheat. He would not cheat.
But he would lie.
Eddie has never been insecure about their relationship before. He loved Steve more than anything. He always knew Steve felt the same. Steve loved him. No questions asked. Eddie knew. He didn't need to be told that Steve loved him. It was just obvious. Now, though, Eddie was second guessing everything. Why would he lie? If Steve could lie so easily about something like this, what else had he lied about? Had their whole relationship been a lie? Has Steve ever told him the truth about anything?
His brain swirled with more thoughts, more insecurities. He stared at the chip in the table as he spiraled. His fingers and toes were tingling. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream, a nightmare. Any minute now, he was going to wake up. Everything would be fine. It was just one big nightmare. He would be laying in bed next to Steve, who would be snoring softly. He would roll over and tuck his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He could hold him tight, bury his nose in the back of Steve’s neck and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. He could fall back into a peaceful sleep with Steve in his arms, safe and sound.
Except he wasn't waking up. No matter how much he tried, no matter how hard he willed his eyes to open, it didn't happen. He was trapped. There was no escape. Steve wasn't there. He may never be there again. This was all Eddie’s fault. If only he’d noticed. If only he cared enough. None of it was enough. Eddie wasn’t enough. He never should have expected to be enough for Steve. Steve deserved better.
Eddie never should have asked him to come on tour with them.
If Eddie hadn’t asked him to go, this never would have happened. Steve would be at home, in their apartment with Robin, probably sleeping in her room every night. He hated sleeping alone. He’d be sitting on the couch, wrapped up in one of Eddie’s hoodies and the threadbare blue blanket they took from the trailer when they moved, watching movies with Robin and a bowl of popcorn. He wouldn’t be dying in a hospital in New York. He’d be happy and safe. Eddie would miss him like hell, but at least he would be safe.
The sun was shining, blindingly bright, through the tall windows on the far wall of the waiting room when the doctor finally came back. Eddie’s knee had taken to bouncing anxiously a while ago, maybe an hour, maybe more. He can’t be sure. His brain had mostly come back online, but he still felt a little foggy. Untethered. His world was unbalanced. His ears were still ringing even as the doctor started talking. He barely heard a single word. Snippets of information filtered through the fog. Stable. Made it through the night. Up to Steve now. ICU. Visitors. The next thing he knows, Jeff is leading him through the halls with the doctor. It’s just the three of them. Other doctors and nurses bustled around them.
They finally crossed the double doors into the ICU. Eddie’s heart pounded as the doctor led them over to one of the sliding doors. She opened it, and Eddie couldn't move. He could hear the machines inside, see the edge of the hospital bed. If he turned his head a little, he knew he would see Steve. The doctor walked in and picked up the chart at the foot of the bed. She flipped it open and clicked her pen, writing things down and glancing at monitors.
“Eddie, why don't we go inside?” Jeff suggested softly, his hand on Eddie’s arm. “Steve needs you right now.”
Eddie's feet moved of their own accord, taking slow steps into the room. Jeff followed behind him, closing the door once they were both in the room. He carefully led Eddie over to the chair, giving him a light push on the shoulder to sit him down. As soon as he was close enough, Eddie grabbed Steve’s hand. An instinct he would probably always have. It didn't matter what was going on in his brain. If Steve’s hand was there, Eddie was holding it.
“Is he okay?” the doctor asked gently, nodding to Eddie.
Jeff sighed. “I hope so. This is all really hard on him.”
“How long have they been together?”
Jeff looked up, a little startled. It may have been New York, and queer relationships were a little more accepted than they were just a few years ago, but Steve and Eddie had always been careful. Cautious. They all had. But she was quick to respond before Jeff could even think to redirect.
“It’s okay, really. I know what love looks like. I would look at my partner the same way if something like this ever happened to her.”
“Oh.” Jeff glanced at Eddie, who had his eyes glued to Steve’s hand in his. “Um… it’s been almost eight years now. They’ve been through a lot together.”
She closed the chart and put it back at the end of the bed. She nodded a few times, watching the machines that beeped rhythmically. “I’m going to hold on to hope,” she said softly. “For them. For everyone like us. I can’t say anything for certain; this is all up to Steve. We’re doing everything we can. But I’m holding on to hope.”
“I guess that’s all any of us can do now, isn’t it?”
“I think so.” She cleared her throat and took a step back from the bed, turning to Jeff. “I have other patients to round on, but I’ll be back to check up on everything in a couple of hours. If you guys need anything, just let one of the nurses know.”
“Thank you.”
Silence fell through the room as the doctor left. Jeff took the chair in the corner, letting Eddie have whatever time he needed. He was mostly there for Eddie’s sake; someone had to make sure he would be okay until Wayne got there. Truthfully, they were all out of their depths here. No one really understood what was happening in Eddie’s brain. Not even close to the way Wayne would.
They sat there in total silence for a long time. It's unclear to Eddie just how long, but long enough that Jeff had gotten up four times. Once to get food, once for the bathroom, and twice to hit vending machines and coffee. Not that Eddie accepted anything Jeff offered him. His body still felt wildly disconnected from his brain. His limbs were heavy. He also knows it's been long enough that nurses have come in to check on Steve eight times, and his doctor has been back once. It seems the only thing Eddie’s mind can keep track of is how many times someone has entered or exited Steve’s room in the ICU.
Jeff gets up for a fifth time. Another bathroom break, from the few words Eddie managed to retain. The door slid shut behind him, and Eddie was alone again. He squeezed Steve’s hand three times, desperate for any sign that he's still there. That he's fighting for Eddie. Nothing happens. The machines beep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically with the calculated breaths of the ventilator. Steve’s eyes shift beneath his eyelids, but they don't open. They won't open. The door slid open again, and Eddie assumed Jeff was back, though it seemed like he wasn't gone very long. And then he hears it.
“Oh, God.”
Eddie’s head shot up at the sound of Robin’s shaky voice behind him. She looked wrecked. Her face was blotchy, her eyes puffy and red. There were tear tracks down her cheeks. Wayne was standing beside her, looking somber. He watched her take a rattled breath, crossing the room slowly. Her eyes don't leave Steve. Wayne followed a few moments later, coming to stand behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder. Eddie wanted to break. As if he hadn't been slowly breaking this whole time.
“They- they said it was an overdose?” Robin asked softly, her voice cracking at the end. Eddie merely nodded, still trying to find his voice. “What- what happened, Eddie? Was it- was he drugged? How- how did this- did he relapse?”
“Relapse?” Eddie croaked, his voice hoarse from disuse. That didn't make any sense. For Steve to relapse, he would have to be…. “He- he was clean?”
Robin frowned, and her gaze finally found Eddie. “What do you mean he was clean? He's been clean since ‘85, Eddie. I- I helped him, after Starcourt.”
All the air left Eddie’s lungs in an instant. This was all his fault. Steve was- he was clean. Sober. And Eddie ruined that. He gave Steve weed. He brought him on tour. He took him to parties full of temptation. He killed Steve.
“This is all my fault,” he whispered.
“Eddie, you have to tell me what's going on,” Robin begged. “When did he relapse? Why didn't he call me? He promised he would talk to me if he wanted to get high again.”
“I- Oh, God. I didn't know. He- he didn't tell me.” Eddie couldn't breathe. His heart squeezed in his chest, and his lungs pushed the air from his body until there was nothing left. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it back. He was already hyperventilating. “This is all my fault. Oh my god, it's all my fault.” He was distantly aware of the tears rolling down his cheeks again.
Wayne stepped between Eddie and Robin, crouching down to look up into his nephew's face. His hands were solid against Eddie’s skin, just like they always were. “Ed, you need to talk to me. Take a breath, kid. I'm right here, but you have to tell me what's going on.”
Eddie’s breath stuttered halfway through his chest. “I didn't know, Wayne.”
“What didn't you know, Eddie?”
“I didn't- I didn't know he was sober. I- I thought I- I was just trying to help. I- I gave him weed. I did this.”
Robin’s expression hardened. “You did this to him?”
“I'm so sorry,” Eddie choked out between sobs. “I didn't- I didn't know. I was just trying to help. And- and then he- I knew he wasn't telling me something, but- but he promised it was just weed.”
“Get out.” Robin’s voice was firm, but he could hear the trembling fear behind it.
“What? I-”
“Get out. Get out, right now. You did this, Eddie. He was doing so good until he met you! And now he's dying! So get the hell out, before I make you!"
It was at this moment that the door opened for Jeff’s return. He paused just inside the doorway. Wayne stood up, facing Robin.
“Now, Robin, I think-”
“I don't care!” Robin’s hands were shaking. “This is his fault! I want him out, right now! Or I swear to God, Wayne, I'm going to kill him.”
Wayne glanced back at Jeff, who was the perfect picture of confusion. “Jeff, take Eddie into the hall.”
“What-”
“Don't ask questions right now,” Wayne said sternly with a shake of his head. “Just take him to the hall. I'll be out in a moment.”
As soon as the door shut behind them, and Jeff had led Eddie a little ways from the room, he finally snapped. His knees gave out from underneath him, and Jeff was the only thing holding him up as he sobbed.
This was all his fault. He killed Steve.
First his mom, now the love of his life. It was all his fault.
-----
taglist: @mugloversonly @djohawke @acowardinmordor @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @slowandsteddie @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @canmargesimpson @captainoliimar @ilikeititspretty
#gloomysoup#gloomysoup writes#gloomysoup ao3#stranger things#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie fic#stranger things fic#steddie angst#steve stranger things#eddie stranger things#steve harrington angst#rockstar!eddie munson#tw: drug abuse#tw: overdose
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25 asks :}} MERRY CHISTMAS! 🎄🎄🎄
Jevil and Seams world still exists, its just so horrible that they don't ever want to go back to it..
Grillby and River persons AU were both destroyed/de-stabilized..?? Their worlds don't exist anymore.. they cant go back.
Goner Kid's AU still exists, but another version of her already exists in it. Its like a duplicate..? Of her was created when she fell into the void. When she tried to re-enter her AU, it was hurting the other Goner Kid. In order for her to go back, someone would have to kill that other Goner kid. But that Kid has a family, real memories, emotions.. she's a person too... no one had the heart to kill her. She cant go back..
Spamton's AU still exists, but he doesn't want to go back. There was nothing for him there. He had no friends, no family, he hated his life. And being in his own world for some reason causes his pain to be more extreme/less tolerable. So staying away from his AU brings him some relief..
Asgore's AU still exists, but he cant go back. Or else he will continue turning into dust and eventually fully die.. staying out of his AU is the only thing keeping him "alive"..
@abaroo
I don't know if their boss status really played much of a role.. mostly their friendship started with Jevil helping Spamton, and then sparked into something more by them having a similar sense of humor. :00
As for the phone person? I haven't decided if my Spamton had that phone guy or not.. but if he did, I might make it so they're different people. Or maybe the same person but from different aus..?? 👀👀
The group might not keep in touch consistently. But I can see them occasionally returning to this AU to seek shelter, knowing that they're safe here.
Like imagine they got in a wicked fight and some of their toughest members are all beat up. They retreat to this AU and hide out in the forest to rest. Some of the Queens guards find the group and bring them to her. She's surprised to hear that they've been living in the woods.
"Why did you not return to my castle?"
"We didn't want to intrude or overstay our welcome..."
"Nonsense! You are always welcome here."
Now as for Seams relationship with her? I imagine its complicated.. Of course he thinks she is wonderful and very gracious. Having freed him from his chains and continuing to welcome them into her castle..
But Seam can't help but be afraid of her. She is the same species as the Spade King. He cant help but be reminded of the king when he looks at her and feel uncomfortable or intimidated..
Seam is probably stressed and uncomfortable being in her castle, despite how kind the Queen is.. Everything just reminds him of the King and all the horrible things associated with him.. its just.. man, its complicated.
@tanileaf
WAAHAHRHHDHF THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING!! 😭😭💖💖💖
@mishishiwritings
Aw its ok! <XD Don't worry, it really is mostly a design choice now. But to go over the story again..
When I was designing my sona I wanted something to be on my hands. Gloves? Different skin color? I didn't really know.. Now at the time my fingers/knuckles were covered in band-aids due to dry skin and cat scratches.
So I thought hey! I can give my sona edgy bloody bandages! And I can call them my weathered artists hands! XD And so I added them.
Although my hands still aren't in the best shape today, I'm pretty hard on them- the bloodied hands don't have any darker or concerning origin. Just cat scratches and dry skin. I appreciate the concern though! 🥺💖💖💖
Also thank you! Happy holiday and a happy new year to you too! :}}
@taizarack
Yeah, my sona is kind'a all over the place <XD for funsies I made this little chart that might help explain the strange forms I take XDD
Basically, the drippy-ness and blood is when I want to emphasize my exhaustion and/or emotions is some way..?
And the "stable" version is usually seen at the start of comics before I've consumed any energy. Or in posts with 1-2 drawings that don't take much time/energy to make. Also being a drama queen is fun. Does that make sense..? <:D
@purplelordscp035j
THNAK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD
I'm assuming you're talking about the ruin mask? If so, that would be very bizarre.. they wouldn't know what to make of it. How is this thing even possible?? <XDD
@lizard-queen-things
Wow, 2020? That feels like forever ago-
And well I just kind'a lost interest in tfp. <XD I never even finished the show due to lost interest- such is life :/
@citrusfruitman
XD You're the first person to ever send me that I believe. Season's Greason's indeed :}
Nooo, <:/ I had already planned out my AU before the Ruin DLC came out. No room/reason to add prototype Freddy.
@starrypaint09
Fank u! :}}}
Here's a link to my FNAF master post! (Its also in my pinned post <XD)
I got an ask about this recently, :0 I'm sad to say that I'm actually unfamiliar with this game.. sorry! <XD
Part of me thinks it would be very foreign to their (probably cruddy) Fazbear brand pizza. <XD Chica would love it though!
This is a really good question! :0 I had to think about it for a sec XDD
For Freddy and Glamrock Foxy I imagined their vice would be the same, hoarding. They would try to latch onto things and objects that make them feel better. At first it would start with collecting certain posters of event that they had a good time at. Or if someone gave them a plush they would hide it from employees so that they could keep it. But then it would quickly spiral into something worse..
They would both start stealing from the other animatronics. Taking things that they see as valuable and worry the others might throw away. Or if they had a nice time at a kids birthday party they would try to collect souvenirs. Like the present wrapping and bows. Trash and plates with food still on them.
Freddy would collect all this trash and stuff and hoard it in his room. The food would get moldy and make his room a hazard. But Freddy would become very protective of his room and his collection. The employees would try to clean if but Freddy just wouldn't have it. They would have to clean out the worst of it little by little so Freddy wouldn't notice..
Foxy would be the same except once his room got too full, he would extend his collection to Pirates cove. Parents would complain about Pirates cove being dirty and about there being trash all over the floor. But just like Freddy, Foxy would be very protective of his collection and it would be a hassle to clean..
For Glamrock Bonnie however, his is harder to describe.. but I imagine he is completely opposed to change. Maybe OCD you could call it..?
I can see Bonnie being hurt by all the change in his life. When Freddy and Chica died that was a huge change. When the glamrock era began and they threw out everything familiar to him.. it hurt. It was a big change.
I can see Bonnie hating change. For 5 seconds, he wants everything to just, stay the same. This might manifest in Bonnie not allowing any employees in his room. Becuase he doesn't want them moving anything around. He wants to come back to his room after a stressful day and have his room be exactly the way he left it. This would mean Bonnie's room gets very dirty/dusty but he wont allow anyone to clean it.
Not sure how this could spiral to something that effects other people.. Maybe he doesn't like the new songs that they are told to sing. He just wants to sing the same familiar songs he already knows. This could cause problems for the other animatronics because Bonnie wont cooperate? Things like that. :0
I suppose anyone who doesn't have a river person in their AU would be spooked yeah <XD Poor river person :(
XDD Yeah "Mommy look! A Kangaroo!"
Bonnie:
Yes, Seam is absolutely devastated with guilt. Not a day goes by where he doesn't feel horrible for what he did to Jevil.. And despite your point, Jevil holds nothing against him. Not anymore, and here's why.
Jevil was there when the king threatened Seam. When the king commanded him to lock Jevil away. It was very clear from the situation that the King would hurt or even kill Seam if he did not obey. Seam was torn, tears streaming down his face. He was shaking.. He had no choice. It was lock Jevil up, or face the Kings wrath. He had to.. if he didn't, both of them would probably have been slaughtered..
He doesn't resent Seam for locking him up. He knows he had to. But after years of being down there.. Jevil did develop a bit of resentment over Seam never visiting him. He always expected Seam to sneak down to the dungeon to see him.. but he never did.. that he resented a bit.
But as soon as he escaped, and found out why Seam never visited.. that resentment all vanished.
Seam tried to visit Jevil. But he was caught. And what was his punishment? His eye was gouged out, his mouth stitched shut, and heavy shackles clasped around his neck and wrists. He was told of he ever tried to visit Jevil again. The king would kill them both.
How could Jevil hold any resentment after that? There was nothing else Seam could have done..
I think it was the opposite. Jevil saw the danger of the situation. It was clear that if Seam didn't lock Jevil up, the King would likely kill them both.
Seam was extremely hesitant. He was crying, he didn't want to lock him up..
Instead of begging the king for mercy, knowing the king would not listen. Jevil probably just tried to comfort Seam..
"Seam.. i-its ok... j-just.. just do it... just do what he says.."
I don't think I ever gave them claws.. I suppose if the situation calls for it they'll magically have them XD Not sure about scratching post though, they'd more likely just want to use a nail file :0
I sat on this ask and thought about it for a while.. and every time I think about it I picture the same scenario..
Asgore comforting a neutral route Undyne..
@beryl-shade
I'd like to think that Bibi can because he's very cat-like. but Cici? Mayyybe not? <XD She's more mouse-like to me.
@britneyt
WOAH HANG ON!- I cant make THAT many arms! XDD
Also thank you! Good night/day to you as well! :}}}
Oh yeah, it likely happens a lot. :( And you know Jevil is either gonna deny it, or curl up under a blanket and refuse to let anyone touch him in an attempt to not spread it..
#my response#undertale#deltarune#seam and jevil#seam deltarune#jevil#tw descriptions of gore#fnaf security breach#factual fam
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Just a Little Puddle | Copia x Reader
Content / Warnings: cardinal copia x transmasc reader, established relationship, stuffed animals, big brother primo giving good advice, sfw, 3k words, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff
Author’s Note: thank you to @dantesunbreaker for commissioning me once again!
commission info
Overworked and stressed, Copia finds himself saying things he regrets. Though you avoid him for the rest of the day, you end up learning from Primo that being Papa is not easy and that perhaps it's your turn to teach Copia that he don't have to do things alone.
“You are upset.” It’s spoken like a fact, not a question which means Primo can clearly tell what kind of mood you seem to be in. You put down the bags of potting soil as you grimace at him.
“Is it that obvious?” You sound a little petulant, a little sheepish that you seem to be so see through. The papa chuckles however and shakes his head.
“No, I would not say it is obvious, my child. Simply that you have been helping this old man since sunrise and it is almost sunset, no? Don’t get me wrong, it is very nice help, but I have also noticed anytime your amore comes by you suddenly– what’s the expression? Vanish into thin air?”
Ah. Well. That would explain it, yes. He can tell from your silence that he is correct in his assumption and he lets out a little sigh before waving you over to walk to a nearby bench in the garden. “Let’s take a short break and talk, si? You do not need to talk about it, but perhaps it may help to.”
He takes a seat and motions for you to do the same. At first you hesitate, but eventually you cave and sit down next to him. Your entire day has been a sea of complicated emotions and you’re just too tired to keep fighting with them at this point.
“A lover’s spat, perhaps?” Again you grimace at how on the spot Primo is– and he sympathetically pats your shoulder.
“Kind of? I… I don’t know if it’s a spat exactly. I feel like it’d be easier if it were just some argument, you know?” And boy did you wish for it to be nothing more than a simple argument. You wish for it to be the kind of argument that simmers down after a while– and after a few hours of sulking alone you both forget what you were fighting about in the first place and fall back together like the missing pieces of a puzzle finding home. You just wish.
You’re never that lucky though. At least it feels like you’re never that lucky. Things just always seem to end in a battle no matter how good you thought you had it. One second you’re in paradise and the next the love of your life tells you that he doesn’t know if you’re worth it.
Copia hadn’t been this angry the time you accidentally spilled wine on his white cardinal suit or the time you accidentally threw away his entire sermon notes. Perhaps it was because he’s Papa now…?
You feel a pang in your heart at that, like your heartstrings are all tangled up and knotted inside your chest. He’d been a little more uptight lately, especially since becoming Papa. Maybe now that he’s someone now, he doesn’t need or want you anymore.
Fuck, you wish you had brought Malakai with you. He’d know what to think, or he’d at the very least judge you with his little eyes as if they were telling you to not worry and that everything would be okay. He was just wise like that.
At least the garden was in full bloom this time of year, flowerbeds teeming with colorful blossoms as the sun rose high into the sky.
As the thoughts come rolling, they burst from the seams like cotton, coming out as words of frustration and fear as Primo listens silently with a comforting hand on your shoulder.
It was a stupid mistake, an accident. You hadn’t meant to knock over your coffee but Copia just wouldn’t listen. He’d held the wet and stained documents in his hand and raised his voice and you had felt your hackles rise at that. You hated when people yelled, when people raised their voices in anger and Copia knew that.
“He said a lot of hurtful things,” you tell the papa listening beside you, “He said he didn’t know what he was doing, and he didn’t know what he’s doing with me. That he doubts our relationship.”
Primo takes a considerable amount of time in thought before he rubs his chin and fixes you with a wise look, “Did he say that? That he doubts your relationship?” He asks kindly. There’s no judging tone or disbelief. Just an honest question that makes you deflate and shake your head.
“Well… no, he didn’t. But it was implied I think.”
“You think?” He replies, and you purse your lips.
“Well, he said that he doesn’t know what he’s doing with me!” You feel like you’re bursting with emotion just remembering his words from this morning.
“Shh, my child. It is okay.” He gently gives your shoulder a squeeze, “Maybe give it some thought and take a step back, si? Your feelings are valid, your hurt is valid– but coming from experience, I think perhaps the one he is frustrated with is not you.”
“Then with who?”
“With himself, my dear.” His eyes are filled with glimmers of understanding and you find yourself pausing to digest those words. All other thoughts came to a stop and swirled around those two simple words. With himself.
“With… himself?” There’s uncertainty and question in your voice as you echo Primo’s words back to him. You look at him, begging with only glances to help you understand.
“Yes, with himself. Being Papa… is not easy.” He grimaces a little, “It’s no small responsibility, little one, especially with the Ministry in one ear and I imagine with Sister Imperator in the other. I remember I would often feel like Atlas holding up the world– when I passed the papacy to my brother it was like an enormous weight was lifted from my shoulders. So, it is my understanding that perhaps when he tells you that he doesn’t know what he’s doing and what he’s doing with you, it is in the idealization that perhaps he feels as if he is letting down everyone around him. Especially you.”
“Oh.” You fall silent. That would make sense; you know that Copia has always been a people pleaser, and has always wanted to impress those around him. Show them what he can do, prove that he’s worth it, that he can do it and more. Everything seems to fall into place a little more now.
Primo was probably right– Copia was probably just stressed. Fights and arguments are natural– and while this is new and he had said something very hurtful, it was something fixable with communication and effort. Perhaps you had been a little harsh too, another opposing force at his back while he struggled. There was no one in the right, no one in the wrong here.
You stand up with this realization with a sudden urgency to find your boyfriend. “I need to talk to him. Sorry, I–” Primo holds his hand up to stop you with an understanding smile.
“It is alright, my dear. Go find your papa and give him some love, si?”
With a determined nod, you take off to begin your search.
—
Finding Copia is proving to be difficult. He is not in his usual places like you’d expected, so you resign yourself to going to dinner and retiring for the night– hoping he would return that evening so the two of you could talk.
Dinner was a quick and simple affair and soon you were headed back to your shared room. When you returned, you noticed Copia’s shoes by the door, meaning he was inside. You swallowed, suddenly a little nervous. Still, you pushed forwards.
“Tesoro?” Your words are tentative as you look around the room to see Copia sprawled on the floor beside the bed, his back against the mattress as his shape is covered under a blanket. At the sound of your voice, the blanket shifts and he sits up and you can see he looks red-faced and distraught. He’s a sad mess, sniffling again before looking at you with pleading bloodshot eyes and a fresh wave of tears spilling down his cheeks. You can tell he’s been crying for a while at this point, it seems, his papal paint runny and blotchy.
You feel guilt ebbing at your heart and you’re at his side in an instant. Sliding onto the ground beside your papa, you pull him into your lap, wrapping your arms around him tight, as if you could hold him all together. “Shhh… shh, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.” Your words wash over him like a blanket, warm and genuine, a comfort as you press a soft kiss to his temple. He’s tense at first, but once you pull him in he immediately melts against you, clinging tight. Once again you feel guilty, this time a sharp prick stabbing your chest. You had left Copia alone for so long, lamenting and selfishly worried about yourself when he had been the one who really needed someone there for him.
He seems to want nothing more than to just cry into you and have your reassurance and presence until all is okay again and as soon as he finds his voice, he’s babbling apologies and pleas for you to stay.
“Mi dispiace, amore mio– mi dispiace. Per favore– don’t go.” He's needy, trying to burrow his head into your shoulder until everything else fades away. Until it’s just you and him. You hold him just a little tighter. ���It was me, it was all me– I was wrong, tesoro. Per favore, per favore–”
“Shh– hey, I’m not going anywhere.” You cut him off and press a kiss to his temple and he tremors in your arms. “You can let it out, I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, humming gentle noises of reassurance. A muffled sob escapes from your shoulder as you soothe him.
It’s like he's a completely different Copia than the one at the Ministry, right now. When he’s there, he’s not allowed to show weakness. His mother doesn’t allow it. He has to be perfect. Perfect for her, perfect for the ministry.
(Because otherwise, what would it all have been for?)
And he’s been trying so hard recently, trying to please everyone around him, trying to please his mother. So much so he’s accidentally hurt his boyfriend– the most important person to him. How could he?
It's just been so hard lately. Ever since he had stepped up from being a cardinal to a papa, the pressure and guilt always seemed to hang heavy over his head. Of course it hasn’t all been negative— there’s a little more confidence in his step and he’s definitely grown a little more of a backbone in the ministry, putting forth his ideas and thoughts. They meant just as much as anyone else’s, if not more.
Still, he’s always been sensitive, especially behind closed doors. Always yearning for support, for a guiding hand. Needing the reassurance that he wasn’t a mistake. You knew some of his struggles, some of his insecurities and you feel like you should have known how heavy the burden he carried was– the weight he crumbled under, you should have known how hard he tries to please.
You know a little about his childhood. He doesn’t speak of it often but sometimes, when it’s just you and him in the dark with his head against your chest or yours against his, hands intertwined so tightly you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins— he’ll talk.
He was such a lonely child, with little family or friends. His mother was rarely around either, too obsessed with his father and the ministry. When he grew older, she finally seemed to pay more attention but only with the highest expectations. He was her magnum opus after all.
You rock him in your arms; gentle waves kissing the shore with open arms. Comforting him with low whispers of love and praise. You tell him how good he is, how you know he’s been working hard. You tell him how much you love him, how proud you are of him. You wipe his tears away with your thumb and press a soft kiss to his tear-stained cheeks.
When it feels like he’s calmed down enough, you tentatively speak. It’s a question that you feel like you already know the answer to, “Did you mean what you said this morning?”
He shakes his head frantically, quick to also vocally beg his case.
“No, no– I didn’t mean those words at all, I was an idiot, it was all me. I didn’t mean it the way it came out, I was wrong.” He clings to you even tighter. Seemingly overwhelmed, he makes little noises, unable to continue putting in words how he feels. Despite the situation, you find it cute when he struggles like this, when he makes little adorable unintelligible noises as he tries to pull the correct things to say from his brain.
“Shhh, you don’t have to say anything, it’s okay. I know.” Your voice is like a balm to his hurts, to the little voice in the back of his head that nags at him constantly that he isn’t enough. He falls silent and his entire body relaxes against your chest. Though little shivers and sniffles still run through him, he’s mostly gone quiet in your arms. Letting you put him back together. “I know you didn’t mean it this morning– I know you were stressed. Yes they hurt,” He lets out a wounded noise that you soothe, “But I know you’re having a hard time right now, aren’t you?”
There’s a few moments of quiet before he silently nods and you reward him with a kiss, lips brushing against his temple and forehead. “I’m also sorry for storming off and not communicating better. Perhaps we will both work on that, hm? I will try to be more understanding in the future. All I ask is that you don’t shut me out, that you lean on me when you need to. You’re not alone, okay? You’re not alone anymore.”
Your hands begin to rub little comforting circles against his back as he nods against you. It doesn’t take much longer for him to sink into you completely and suddenly, Copia is a puddle in your arms.
You chuckle lightly, unable to resist giving him another kiss to his temple. “You’re just a little puddle in my arms, huh?” You tease, “A cute little Copia puddle.”
Copia's face brightens a little, though his cheeks tint a little red, and he lets out a soft laugh of his own, face still buried against your chest, and you feel the worry in your chest loosen at the sound. He doesn’t deny it though, especially as he burrows even deeper into your arms. He really is just a puddle in your arms, relaxed and content to soak up your affection.
“Mm… my little puddle.” He lets out a little snort and you can’t resist the teasing. “All mine, mm?” You pepper his face with kisses.
"All yours." Copia replies, though words are muffled from lying against you and you know he’s a little embarrassed but content too. Relieved. He’s not used to the positive attention, the love you try to shower him in. Even so, he soaks it up like a sponge because it’s all he’s ever wanted.
You continue to rub his back soothingly, your rocking slowing until you settle with him against the pillows. You feel his heartbeat even out and the sniffles subside almost completely. “Feeling better, tesoro?” You ask gently.
He nods against your chest, eyes closed and contented with your arms around him. “Thank you for not leaving, topolino.” He murmurs quietly. He knows he’s not alone anymore, and it makes all the difference in the world. He had been so afraid of losing you after he’d said those hurtful words to you, unsure of what he’d ever do if you walked out on him.
“Oh tesoro– I would never leave just because we had one fight. It takes a lot more to scare me off, you know? And besides,” You lean over to pluck Malakai from the sheets, where he’d been keeping an keen eye out for trouble and had been watching quietly, “I’m sure Malakai would miss you terribly.”
That provokes a smile from Copia and he gingerly takes Malakai from your hands and gives the goat plush a good cuddle. “He is a very good comforter and protector.” Malakai definitely agrees with a little twinkle in his eye, happy to help. You return his smile with a hum of agreement and lean in to give Malakai’s cheek a little kiss. Copia follows suit and gives him a kiss on the other cheek and Malakai is very pleased with this new development. You can tell from the twinkle in his eye.
In a little bit, you’ll get up to run a hot bath where you’ll sit together as you gently help him remove his ruined makeup. He’ll be so soft and pliant in your arms as you wash his hair for him, peppering his face in kisses that he can’t escape. You’ll be ready to help him out of the tub with a big fluffy towel and once you’re both in comfortable pajamas, pull him into bed where he’ll settle into your arms once more. And when the lights have gone out and the room is filled with only soft breaths, you’ll gently ask if he wants to talk about what he’s stressed about..
Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Regardless, he knows it’ll never change anything between the two of you. You’ll tell him you love him, and he’ll whisper the words back so quietly it’s almost inaudible. You’ll tell him that you can’t hear him and he’ll make his little noises from where his head is tucked against the crook of your neck and you’ll laugh. You’ll look at Malakai who’s squeezed between the two of you and tell him out loud how Copia’s once again become a soggy little puddle– to which Copia will huff but you’ll feel the upward curve of his lips tickle against your skin as he smiles.
#the band ghost#copia#ghost band#ghost bc#primo#papa emeritus iv#cardinal copia#papa emeritus i#papa emeritus iv x reader#cardinal copia x reader#my fic#commissions
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Warnings: Kakuzu x gn!reader; bad language!; Kakuzu being slow with his own feelings; SFW.
Everyone at Akatsuki was used to the treasurer's standard bad mood, the only time he seemed calm was when he was counting his money, but lately not even that. The organization wasn't doing badly, on the contrary, now with one more member they were even more in demand for missions. The new member was you, another wanted S-rank ninja. Even though you often worked alone, you were able to carry out missions perfectly, which was admirable given that you were one of the youngest members.
You were feared, but not by the people in the organization, just as you didn't fear any of them, which is why you were so friendly with everyone, always making conversation and offering to help. That got on Kakuzu's nerves.
You were beautiful, smart, educated, skilled and above all kind, what the fuck were you doing in that end of the world surrounded by murderers and terrorists? Of course, you were also wanted for murder and several other things, but you had everything to be someone more decent, why did you end up there? Why was you always smiling? Why did it torment Kakuzu's thoughts so much? You were the reason he was so stressed, he couldn't get you out of his head and he still didn't know why, or rather, he ignored the obvious reason.
- Whoa, hey Kakuzu! I just got here, need help with something? - you entered the office, as if you had just read his mind.
- No. - he said wanting you to leave him alone again.
Kakuzu was without his usual mask, his hair tied back in a bun, more at ease, he turned to face you with those piercing green eyes, the usual frown even clearer. It was the first time you'd seen him like this, the first time you'd seen his scars on the side of his mouth, the seam badly done because it was the first he'd done, and even so you didn't tremble, you didn't waver a single muscle, you kept smiling. How did you manage to be so kind-hearted and so cold-blooded during fights? How could you attract him more and more? The "stress" only increased.
- Did something happen? You look angry.
- You should have gotten used to it by now. - he turned his back, hoping that by the time he turned again you would have gone, but that's not what happened.
- Are you sure you don't want help?
- Are you deaf or what? Get out of here.
From the peripheral vision, Kakuzu could see you taking a deep breath, trying to control yourself, but you couldn't take it, you slammed your hand against the table letting out an "okay, I'm done!", he looked up at you, surprised but not wanting to show it , it was the first time he saw you get worked up.
- Every time I try to have a civil conversation with you it's like this, since I joined I hear how you provide everything I ask in advance compared to the other members, but every time I try to be nice to thank you you treat me like garbage, Tell me man, what the fuck did I do to you?! - your breathing became irregular after releasing everything that was tormenting you.
- ... What did you expect from me? A "welcome" along with a golden star every time you returned from missions? Look around you, we're not that kind, don't feel special just because I thought to be kind to you in your early days. We are not friends, don't act like it.
- Then why do you still care? Why do you still think of me before them?!
- Look, actually I'd love not to think about you all the fucking time if you ask me! I just thought that if I got rid of your problems soon, I would stop thinking about you too!
Kakuzu, blinded by not wanting to accept what he was feeling, couldn't understand the feeling either, which he interpreted as anger, but your face flushed as you suspected what it was, understanding what he was feeling better than he did.
- Do you think about me? - your voice softened.
- More than I'd like! Your stupid face keeps popping up in my head! It doesn't let me concentrate on anything! - he complained, still not understanding what he felt and making it even more obvious to you.
Realizing that he had no idea of the weight of his own words, you laughed, finding it cute how even though he has 5, the heart was still a mystery to Kakuzu.
- Maybe you worry? For some reason? - you suggested when you noticed him staring at you, even more irritated because of your laugh.
- Yes I do, and that's the problem, it makes no sense. But when I realize it, I've already convinced Pein to leave you with the safest mission, I've ordered your weapons, I've done everything and it still doesn't seem enough, I feel like I'm sick - he sits tiredly in the armchair, covering part of his face while pressing the back of the nose.
Then a little guilt falls on you for laughing at him. You forgot that Kakuzu was much older than you, he shouldn't even remember what it was like to be attracted to someone, to fall in love, to love. He was now a cold-blooded killer, with his only reliable friend being his money, and after so many years it was obvious that he would no longer remember what it was like to want to care for someone. It had only been a few years for you and yet the idea now of wanting to protect someone without an obvious motive, written in capital letters on a piece of paper with a reward amount next to it, was also strange.
- Look, if you must know... It's the first time in a long time that someone cares about me like this - you tried to fix things. He looked at you for a while, silent.
- Well... It's the first time in a long time that I'm worried like this about someone too - he spoke, finally understanding what it could be.
You softly smiled at him, both of you curious as to where this would lead.
Sorry for any typos;
Buy me a coffee?
Drabbles Game
Masterlist;
#akatsuki headcanons#akatsuki#akatsuki headcanon#kakuzu drabble#kakuzu x reader#kakuzu x gn!reader#kakuzu fanfic#kakuzu oneshot#kakuzu headcanon#akatsuki x reader#kakuzu headcanons#kakuzu x y/n#explore
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Hey I don't know if either of you would be comfortable with doing this (totally chill if not) but could I request something for Carlos Oliveira comforting his s/o through an anxiety episode? My doctor is moving around my medication and the adjustment is making my anxiety attacks/depressive tendencies worse and im also scared to go to sleep due to nightmare issues.
iirc the Ren (the RE mod) only does scenarios but if I'm wrong any format is fine. Thanks for reading. You two have a nice day.
Anxiety and depression sucks, anon. I hope your new medication works soon and the demons are pushed back. I'm proud of you for fighting through it, for waking up every day <3
You're my first Resident Evil request! :D And for Carlos no less! Thank you so much, and I hope this scenario helps you <3
You didn't specify gender or pronouns, so it defaults to AFAB and she/her.
~*~*~
Your grip on the bathroom sink counter turns your knuckles white, your chest squeezing as you stare at your pajamas heaped next to the sink. Next to the toothpaste, that you inevitably have to use. Next to the toothbrush, your first step in this nightly ritual.
Maybe skipping all of this for one night wouldn't hurt. Maybe, maybe you could just go to bed with the clothes on your back, jeans and bra and socks included.
The familiar acid behind your eyes burns, throat constricting as you grip that counter for dear life. A short inhale, a whooshed exhale.
You don't want to do this.
Pressing your lips together to hide their quiver, you crouch down to escape the mirror, to escape the evidence as tears slip past. You grip the counter so hard it hurts, but the pain doesn't register as the tide erupts, filling your chest and lungs and limbs and--
Did you do anything productive today? Did you do it all the right way? Your hamper is full, why didn't you do your laundry? That lunch meat in your fridge is about to go bad and all you had today was toast instead. You need to eat or you'll feel worse, but what's the point? Every day leads to night and night leads to--
"I'm home!"
The call cuts into your thoughts, pausing them for just a moment before they shift direction.
Inhaling feels like swallowing glass as you rise, loosening your white knuckled grip to wipe at your wet face, to rub at your red eyes. Fingers tangling in your shirt, you almost whimper as your arm gets stuck in the fabric and you almost rip the seams in your haste.
Tossing the shirt onto the floor, you fumble as you regret the decision, trying and failing to grab it. Chest heaving, your fingers can't stop shaking as you try desperately to unlatch your bra, to be seen as being at least half way into getting dressed like a normal person.
"Honey?"
He's in the bedroom now and your fingers can't grab the hooks, they won't bend like you want them to and they won't stop shaking shaking shaking--
"Hey. Hey hey hey." Warm hands gently grip your upper arms, turning you to face him as his brown eyes dart. You know he notes the redness in your face and eyes, your inability to take a damn breath, the movements you can't stop as you choke down the tears--
"Hey," he breathes again, running his hands down your arms to guide your fingers away from your back and into his palms. "Take a deep breath." You nearly choke, and he squeezes your fingers, thumb running along your knuckles. "Inhale." You try again. "Good, good. Now exhale."
You do, feeling that damn lower lip quiver again and trap it between your teeth.
"One more time. Good."
This is ridiculous, you're ridiculous, why can't you just be normal like everyone else?
"Hey." Laying one hand on top of your other, his free hand cups your cheek, a thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You're safe, you're okay, I'm here. What do you need?"
You need to have normal dreams. You need to be able to plan your day without worrying about the wildest, stupidest things. You need to be able to make your breakfast without worrying if you're putting the correct things in the recycling even though you've put them there a hundred times already.
All that comes out is a broken sob.
"Can I hug you?"
A sniff, a small nod, and your cheek is pressed against his chest as he wraps you in his warmth. One arm snakes around your waist as another goes around your shoulders, his hand resting lightly against the back of your neck.
The tears come fully then, sobs wracking your body. Gripping him tight, Carlos your pillar in the storm, you break apart. Know you can shatter and he'll help you pick up the pieces, loving every shard put back into place, no matter how crooked the final picture becomes.
Fingers play with your hair soothingly as you ride out the panic, as it drains you so completely, as you soak Carlos' shirt with your tears. It could've been minutes or hours but eventually the river dries up, your lungs can take a deeper gulp of air, and your fingers can relax their death grip on his shirt.
"'M'sorry," you mumble out.
"For what?" His voice rumbles in his chest, against your cheek. "For being the biggest badass I've ever known?"
Trying to scoff but only achieving a small huff of air, you croak out, "'M'not."
"Of course you are." He rests his chin on the crown of your head. "You're the bravest person I know."
You roll your eyes.
"I felt that." You feel him pause. "Hey, do something for me." Turning you both so your eyes are directed at the mirror, he continues, "What do you see?"
Weakness, stupidity, uselessness, futility--
"I see a woman who got her pajamas ready even though she doesn't want to sleep." His fingers graze against your neck, knowing the movement will keep your eyes focused on your reflection. "I see a woman who woke up not feeling well but got out of bed anyway."
"I can't stay in bed all day," you mumble.
"That's what I'm talking about. You could stay in bed all day, but you don't. You could just drink a shit ton of coffee to stay awake, but you don't. You could call out of work, but you don't." He rubs his cheek against your head, presses his lips in for a quick kiss. "It's easy to do what I do and shoot things, but what you do? I don't know if I could do that."
A few more tears slip out, but this time accompanied with a small smile on your lips. Strained, pained, but a smile nonetheless.
"And to still look stunning doing it all?" He smiles wide, giving you a wink through the mirror. "Strong and good looking."
That smile pulls just a little wider. "I look like shit."
"You look like you just beat the hell out of some demons and walked away the winner. That's sexy. Hell is literally a part of a demon's make up."
The scoff sounds a little bit more like a scoff now. "Looking like I just climbed out of a ditch is sexy?"
"Hell yeah it is. I ever tell you the color of your eyes pop after you've cried?"
"No."
"Well, the color of your eyes pop after you cry." He cups your cheeks and turns your face to his, his nose brushing against yours as he squints. "Beautiful."
"You're so cheesy."
"Does it work?"
You press your lips together and squint in faux contemplation.
"I'm taking that as a yes."
Rolling your eyes, the smile finally breaks free.
"There it is," he smiles back, giving a peck of a kiss on your nose. "You'll be okay?"
Wiping a hand across your eyes, you exhale heavily. "I'll be okay."
"So..." A hand leaves a cheek to snake down your shoulder blades, and you raise an eyebrow as he asks with a light, playful smile, "Need help with this?" A finger slips under your bra strap, right against the clasp.
"Aiming to practice, are you?"
"I don't need practice, princess. Taking off a bra is easy."
"Y'okay, big guy." Sharing a smile, you shake your head. "I'll be alright. Thank you."
That smile morphs into a genuine one. "You're welcome." Stepping back, he gives you a long, searching look before flashing a relieved smile and padding back into the bedroom. "Hurry up and get dressed!"
"So bossy!" you call, turning back to your pajamas. Your hands rests atop the fabric, muscles threatening to lock again.
"I wanna cuddle!"
A huff of a laugh escapes your nose, taking with it the rest of the tension running through your body, and you hurriedly free the girls before slipping on your pajama shirt.
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Eugene: Harbourtown's Hollow Protector
(A Meta Analysis)
The night is dim, awaft with the scent of sea-salt spray and crushed autumn leaves. A nearby cafe jingles with the sound of clinking cups, and it's heady aroma envelops the people with laughter and dance, untouched by the vastness of the sky and the sea. All but for one.
His name is Eugene. He wears a neon pink jacket. He has a strange fondness for the word momentous. He's the sole "Protector of Harbourtown~!"
But a hero complex-- and the insecurity beneath it-- doesn't spring from nowhere.
Not dissimilar to the melancholy ambience of New Wirral, the concept of emptiness and uselessness plagues Eugene throughout his adventures, and this comes to light in the archangel fight with Mammon.
Eugene reacts-- for an otherwise bombastic, enthusiastic guy-- quite poorly. He initially pushes back and gets defensive-- 'You don't know a SINGLE thing about me', but one can't keep up the charade of denial forever, and he begins to break down. Somewhere in his heart, he seems to read these words as true.
Eugene comes from a post-capitalistic society, or at least the start of one. There, life was 'slowly' changing in emphasis from being 'rich and famous' to being generous to one's community. But even though Eugene states that it was a sudden shift in society's ways, such change never is so instantaneous. With billions of people on the earth, with a spectrum of political opinions, the hard-coding of capitalism is something that is difficult to undo. The ideal of getting a good job has been going on for decades, for instance. So to a bunch of children caught in the midst of it all, in the beginning of new change, indoctrinated into a capitalistic world that was bursting at the seams... it's daunting. Engulfing.
And that's clearly what's happened in Eugene's case. He states that he was 'never very good at' the new way of life. This, combined with his reaction to Mammon which he holds to some truth-- 'I want order because you do. I crave structure because you do' shows that this new way of doing things has left Eugene feeling rather... useless. Especially since, truth be told, he doesn't see much in himself in the first place.
Within the Gramophone Cafe, there's a bit of optional dialogue between him and Kayleigh. Kayleigh inquires that, with Eugene's desire to benefit Harbourtown, why doesn't he go join the rangers himself? To which he goes:
Besides the point that he is clearly putting up a front, when Kayleigh teases that he wouldn't be up to complete their challenge, we get this instead:
But! As Kayleigh tells the player after they acquire their ranger challenge, it's specific to the person applying. Kayleigh went around doing errands because that's in her nature. The player undertakes a combat challenge because that's in their forte, or at least the game assumes so. It's a bit suspicious, then, that Eugene reacts in this way. But after all, capitalism does take time away from personal development, it's no wonder that this boy doesn't understand what value he brings to the table innately, by breathing, by being alive and a good spirit, and trying and failing and trying some more. He needs to be told, multiple times, assuaged of it really, that 'You don't need to be a hero to have value'. That he doesn't need to go around heralding some grand cause to be something in the world.
That niggling insecurity of his is further implied in the Aldgrave Tomb Station, with the gravestone text. The archangel for this one, Lamento Mori, as the pun also implies, is as much about death as it is the fear of being unable to live a meaningful and fulfilling life before it. The text changes for each of the party members to reflect their internal struggles, whether it is Kayleigh's people-pleasing, Felix's embarrassment over his past art, or in Eugene's case: 'All talk and no action'. And it is because of that Eugene is wrapped up in an unfulfilling hero complex. A hero is a strict role. They're defenders of justice. Chivalrous. Selfless. Brave. A far-cry from the open-endness, and thus emptiness, that Eugene sought to bury within him as he fought the landkeepers. It's a comfortable act to play, and that feeling of stopping the bad guys does well to console the ego and mind in the moment. And you know Eugene is really trying to play into it, because when he's caught in the heat of the moment, he reacts with embarrassment, as if he knows it's childish:
Which brings us to his series of relationship heart events. Because though insecurity is like a gaping hole in the heart, and Eugene has so far been trying to cover it up with the cling-film bravado of heroism, the cover can always be removed. It can be filled with something much more nourishing, like soil, which is precisely what happens. Eugene finds a new comfort in starting a community garden. And though it might initially read that he's still trapped in that cycle of constantly needing to help others, the truth is, he's beginning to liberate himself from the idea that he is useless. He takes pride in his little garden, and shows genuine confidence in it and it's potential, rather than snapping up under pressure like with Mammon, being tentative as if with the ranger challenge, or fawning over in embarrassment when the player first encounters him.
And the day is bright, and the scent of flowers and mulch lingers in the air. A nearby cafe jingles with the sound of clinking cups, and it's heady aroma envelops the people with laughter and dance, untouched by the vastness of the sky and the sea. And this time, everyone is there.
--
Thanks for reading my meta take on best boi!!! I highly recommend this other speculative opinion and it's addition by my friend @hungrydolphin91 and @millipedish, which I think is absolutely wonderful and very supplementary to mine :). I just didn't want to regurgitate the same stuff because. y'know. academic honesty and plagiarism ^^;
#cassette beasts#eugene cassette beasts#eugene#As a side preamble I really do like how his questline takes the longest#it's a neat example of gameplay-story integration. he's putting up the heroism front so of course you can't get close to him#until it's removed. and that false barrier just happens to be the landkeepers. idk man I know a lot of people find it annoying#but i just think it solidifies what he's got going for him :>
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DIY budget cyber/industrial outfit - first time in public!
I made a couple of previous posts about this dress here and here, as well as the matching collar, and I thought it would be fun to show how I styled it when I wore it for the first time on Friday. Honestly I was a little concerned it would just look dumb, but when I tried it with the full makeup and shoes I was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it.
Apologies for the abysmal photo quality, especially in the first image. I don't have a good camera and I wanted to try and show the full outfit. That blurred mirror selfie is the only head to toe picture I got.
I didn't mention in my other posts but in addition to making patches for the dress I also nipped in the seams so it fit me better (it was my size but kinda shapeless, and I wanted to give myself a waist). This is very easy to do with almost any dress, skirt or top, you just put the garment on inside out, pinch in the side seams so they fit the contours of your body (try and do this equally on both sides) and pin them together. Safety pins are best so you don't accidentally hurt yourself.
Take the garment off and draw a smooth line with tailors chalk connecting all the pins, then sew along that line, either with a machine or by hand. Turn right side out and try it on again. Provided you're happy with the fit, trim away the excess fabric. You may need to be careful if it's a fabric that could fray - I usually go over the seams again with a zig-zag machine stitch to try and minimise this. There are also products you can buy like fray-check. If in doubt, or there isn't much excess fabric you could just leave the seams untrimmed.
The length is a little out of my comfort zone so I wore gym shorts underneath to help myself feel less exposed and reduce the risk of flashing - I tend to do this with any dress or skirt that's above the knee anyway.
Continuing the budget theme, rather than buying any new accessories (again, cyber stuff is mega expensive) I looked through my wardrobe for items I already had that might work.
These goggles are not the usual kind of cyber goggles, but they matched everything else I was wearing. I was given them by a friend who was getting rid of them ages ago so they cost me nothing!
I really didn't feel like making and wearing cyberlox, so instead I just got some yellow hair elastics and did a ponytail.
I made these arm warmers about 12 years ago. You can probably tell that they began life as a pair of skinny jeans. To cut down on the amount of sewing I needed to do I used the existing hem and seams. After cutting them to a length I liked I did the pinch and pin thing to make them fit to my arm, and put in zips along the outer seam to make them easier to put on. As it turned out this wasn't necessary because the fabric is stretchy enough that I can pull them on and off. The zips add a nice bit of visual interest though.
I ripped a hole in each one for my thumb, and I had a pack of extra large hook-and-eyes, so I sewed the "eye" parts down them and added some old bootlaces. I've never been 100% happy with this decoration, but I haven't had any inspiration on how to change them in the last 12 years.
I wanted a necklace in addition to the collar, and couldn't think of anything more appropriate than this. I originally got it for a cosplay, Vasquez from Aliens, and with the big yellow industrial loader from the end of that movie which Ripley uses to fight the Queen alien... it seemed there was kind of a connection there.
I once met Jeanette Goldstein whilst dressed as Vasquez and told her she was my childhood hero and she signed these tags, but unfortunately most of the signature has come off when I was cleaning them.
Lastly, the boots. As with any goth outfit the footwear tend to be the most expensive, particularly if you want ridiculous platform heels like these.
When it comes to footwear, I really would not recommend any alternative brand names like Killstar, Koi or similar. They're often terrible quality, the heels will snap, the soles will peel off, zips will break. In my opinion the only decent specifically alternative shoe brand are New Rock (even they're lower quality than they used to be in the 90s) and although New Rock do make heels I wouldn't wear them often enough to justify spending £200 on a pair. I prefer flats the majority of the time!
The brand of these is Funtasma, and I believe they are intended for use by pole-dancers, meaning they're decent quality and will be up to a night of dancing in a club. I took a change of shoes along with me to put on at the end of the evening but they are surprisingly comfortable for the first few hours.
I got them about 15 years ago on sale, and at that time they were around £40. Not cheap but not super expensive either, and I've definitely got my money's worth out of them. I had them re-soled once with special toughened soles that have extra grip so they're safer to walk in, but that's it. One time I even did the 3 mile walk home at 2am in 6 inches of snow wearing these because I didn't want to wait hours for a taxi (an occasion where I did not take a change of shoes!)
So, not your standard cyber outfit, but one that gives my own spin on this look (which should be the goal with any fashion style - a guideline to create something unique, not a rulebook that you have to follow 100%) and was put together super cheaply. The only new things I bought were the dress, fabric to make the patches, and a pack of multicoloured hair elastics.
#cyber goth#cybergoth#industrial goth#goth#goth diy#goth thrifting#goth sewing#goggles#gothic fashion#gothic#goth aesthetic#goth fashion#goth style#goth subculture#gothic diy#alternative fashion#alternative#industrial style#goth upcycling#reduce reuse recycle#zero waste#goth boots#platform boots#goth shoes#goth heels#alternative subcultures#sewing#diy sewing#diy projects
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My OCs as Flatmates, Part 2
Includes: Aurelia, Cora, Lily
The One Piece part, for some reason. I swear, I didn't plan for this. If you want to hear these sort of headcanons for some of my other OCs, let me know!
@marzena-doe and @oneirataxia-girl both asked for...
↬ Aurelia !
I need to make one thing very clear here. You're in her house and she can and will throw you out whenever you get on her nerves too much. It will probably take a long time for her to warm up to you.
One of the best things about living with her is you don't need to worry about money, food or security, and in the World of One Piece, that's a really big advantage. There's hardly a safer space across the seven seas than her home. She'll make sure you have good things to eat and drink, you have nice clothes (because you are not walking around her home in rags) and maybe gift you some jewelry if she's feeling generous. All in all, she's not exactly the most outgoing or affectionate, but if she tolerates you in her home, you might find yourself having dinner with her once in a while, sitting by the fireplace together... all those things.
Another great thing about Aurelia is her vast knowledge about the world and what's happening in it. She's got metaphorical eyes and ears everywhere and knows a lot about all sorts of political or otherwise impactful events. Also, about how the world works in its wacky ways. The seas, the skies, the wildlife, and people themselves... She knows how to fight, too, and might just be the best teacher when it comes to a certain technique based on willpower if you are blessed enough to have it. Generally, you can learn a lot of things from her (and you might just end up being adopted into her circle of poor little meow meows children).
@supermarine-silvally asked for...
↬ Cora !
Cora, my beloved. You're right, Cora is somewhat messy! But only really in her workspace. Her workspace is cluttered as all hell, but she still manages to find anything she needs (because she can summon it with her devil fruit or just sense where it is). Occasionally, she'll also leave some of her projects around the house or something if she was working on them somewhere else, but then the clutter will all be in one pile that you can easily scoop up and move.
Generally, Cora is so freaking considerate. Overly considerate even. She will back away first before trying to reason with you. At least until she gets really comfortable with you. She also knows how to cook, at least somewhat, and she would love to cook with you because it's fun and it's a bonding activity for her. Also! She will definitely make you clothes, whether you ask her or not. At some point, she'll just start sketching designs for you and give you the puppy eyes until you say yes to trying them. She'll also fix your favourite clothes for you. Your favourite shirt has a hole in it? Not anymore! Seam came loose on your jeans? It's back where it used to be. This also extends to stuffed animals if you have those! No questions asked, she'll stitch your favourite teddy back up and make him a cute little jacket to go with it.
She might be a bit anxious about a lot of thinks though. Personal space is definitely one thing, but she might also want to roughly know when you go out and get back, just so she has a vague idea of when you're at home and when she'll be alone. Also, she might bring some of the Straw Hats over occasionally if you're okay with it. She lets Luffy come over once and never again but the others might be there a bit more often. Especially her boyfriends. She asks them for help with chores sometimes or shows them her designs. It's really adorable.
@oneirataxia-girl also asked for...
↬ Lily !
Why are you living with a child? Who knows, but you're a parent now. Sorry, I don't make the rules. You have to understand that, if you're living with Lily, you're gonna have to do at least some parenting. This is a child with strong mood swings and very little experience in the world outside of ships and mansions, so you're gonna have to teach her some things and take care of her.
But, that aside, she's really nice! She's considerate (or at least she tries), she loves to do pretty much any activity with you, she doesn't mind doing the chores... Also, if you're someone who likes cuddles, she's got you. She loves them. And she's got soft, big ears and a tail... I also imagine she's naturally pretty warm.
Emotions-wise, Lily is usually pretty cheerful, but she's not really the best at comforting you when you're down. She might show up to your room with some hot chocolate instead.
She's definitely messy. Not because she doesn't care but because she forgets. You'll have to remind her to do the dishes every once in a while or she'll forget the laundry, but she's trying. She's definitely trying. But she's also very easily distracted by literally anything. Also... don't expect her to be too good at running errands, at least not in the groceries department. Do not let her into a grocery store on her own, she will come back with more sweets than intended and maybe even a toy or soemhing. Give her a list and she'll hopefully get everything you need though.
If you're ever overwhelmed with her, call Sanji. Or one of the other responsible Straw Hats (i.e. not Luffy). They'll figure things out.
So yeah, that's it for part 2! Hope you enjoy! :)
Also I do not have the time to proofread this, please forgive me. My mind is mashed potatoes.
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Your OC's are surprised by a knock on their door, and when they open the door, Jess is standing there, out of breath, hair a mess, smears of blood crusted dirt, torn clothes. She hands you a simple cardboard box, well sealed with duct tape. It's light and doesn't rattle or anything.
"Protect this! Don't open it! No matter what you hear! Ill be nack once I've lost them!"
And then she runs off.
How do they react?
Ooooh, fascinating! Thank you!
Rae: Is confused, but places a small shield around the box and sets it on the kitchen table. She's a little jittery from adrenaline, and wants to run after Jess to help her if there's some sort of fight, but Jess is already gone and it's probably better that Rae stays with the box.
Robin: Puts the box in the kitchen pantry, underneath a bag of flour - it's well-hidden, and a place she figures most people wouldn't look. If anyone comes to investigate, she's got a damn good poker face from being a professional actor, so she just stays calm and continues with what she was doing until Jess comes back for the box.
Madison: Drops the box on the nearest flat surface, grabs her knives, and runs after Jess. She's not sure what this whole box ordeal is about, but it seems like Jess could use a bit of backup
Ophelia: Is kind of absorbed in one of her projects, so she ends up leaving the box in the care of her actuators with the same instructions - protect it, don't open it, and alert her if anything particularly dangerous/startling happens. Then she gets back to work, since leaving the box with her actuators is really the safest option she's got.
Gia (look who got added to the lineup!): Starts to run after Jess, since this is really stressful and she's really tried to get away from action like this, but she's already gone and Gia's left standing on the street with the box. She ends up shoving the box into her patch of clover - it's hidden by all the greenery, and she'll be aware if anything happens since she's linked to the clover. Nothing else really happens, but she's so torn up with anxiety about the whole ordeal that she can't get any work done.
Jasper: Seems to be catching a few weird empathic flickers from inside the box, and that's... very strange, and they really want to open the box... but they restrain themself and put it on top of a high shelf where they can't be tempted.
Kestrel: Is also extremely tempted to open the box, through some inner trickster nature of theirs. Settles for shapeshifting into a roly-poly and wriggling in through a crack in one of the seams, but it's so dark that they can't actually make anything out. Shifts back to human, sighs, sits with with the box until Jess is back.
Katherine: Sets the box on a table and tries to distract herself by doing a little sketching. She's still unfocused, though, and can't stop wondering what's in the box that could possibly be so important... but she won't open it! Jess gave her very clear instructions, and it looked important!! But if one of the gods wanted to look inside and maybe guide her pencil a bit, give her a hint... well, she wouldn't complain.
Quinn: Opens the box the instant Jess is out of sight. I mean, c'mon, the temptation is just too much!
Eris: Also opens the box immediately, though more out of spite than curiosity. Excuse you, you don't get to just drop some weird responsibility on them without so much as an explanation! It could be nothing more than a box of paper clips and he'd still open it just because Jess told her not to.
Nikoletta: Stores the box in the shadow realm, where nobody can access it except for her. It's in there for a while, and when Jess finally comes back, the cardboard is all stained with shadows, but otherwise seems to be completely undamaged and safe from whatever threat she was running from.
#my friends!!!#answered asks#my ocs#jasper wilson#madison douglas#ophelia octavius#oc quinn/aces#oc kestrel#oc katherine johnson#rae mckinney#robin cassidy#oc eris#nikoletta bordeaux#gia pantazis
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stucky prompt: bucky gets afflicted with a rapid wg curse. they learn shortly after what the curse is from strange checking him after whatever fight got him cursed: when it triggers bucky will gain around two extra pounds of fat per minute, stopping at around 600-800 extra pounds to lug around, but not how it's triggered although they do know that strange should have the counterspell within a day or two.
so they just decide to say screw it and go about their days as much as they can, deciding to enjoy it if it happens. and it Does happen, triggering when they have dinner and quickly notice bucky's clothes getting tight. they call strange to let him know the curse has triggered, and decide to have some fun as bucky quickly gets bigger and bigger. they always wanted to try out immobility without the long-term consequences... :3c
Here's an ask I answered earlier that I think you will like! It also has rapid weight gain through magic involved
This prompt is much different though... this is way faster and this is way more intense 😏 I like it.
Can you imagine? 🤤🥴
Bucky going from just thick and packed with muscle (but a little soft too around the edges though) -
to immobile with how massive he gets.
Bigger and bigger and bigger in seconds.
And it really is a surprise too, since they have no idea what triggers the curse, they just know when it's happening because all of the sudden the seams of Bucky's clothes start to scream and burst his while body gets thicker and thicker.
The growth comes out of nowhere but it becomes everything when it starts out of the blue.
There's shock on Bucky's face at first, eyes wide and hands scrambling to grab at his quickly tearing clothes... shock that suddenly turns to,, not shock 😳 with his eyelids lowering and eyes themselves growing darker as his hands don't scramble over his clothes but firmly grab and, oh, caress his fat.
His growing, ballooning fat.
He's getting so big. In no time! It's been two seconds! What? How?
Yet, it feels so good. He's so shocked but not as shocked as turned on 😳 he doesn't know why he's turned on - is it part of the curse? But... he is. And when Bucky looks up at Steve from his own expansion, he finds the obscene interest reflected there too. The fascination.
Huh.
Bucky is still growing. He's not full though. He's just... heavier and heavier and softening. All over.
It feels like heaven. To the point that he pants out, "St-Steve, get over here. You, oh, God, you gotta feel this."
Steve gets the look on his face that speaks of how concerned he always is about Bucky recognizing his own body. Calling his body "his" and not "it." Bucky would roll his eyes at Steve being a mother hen even when he's clearly thinking with his dick, but he's not going to look away from himself or Steve. One or the other. Nowhere else.
"Sh-shut it and just fuckin' get over here and t-touch me. It feels so good. I'm, Jesus, I'm so soft. It's, fuck, it's- the fat is so, like, buttery. Steeeve - c'mere!"
Steve comes and Steve touches.
His fingers at first just brush Bucky's skin but, quickly Steve goes beyond and grabs too. He pinches. He jiggles all of Bucky's expanding fat. Bucky's growth seems to speed up with encouragement and Steve groans.
Bucky finds himself moaning too. It feels even better to be touched. God. He's, he - he never wants this to stop. He wants to grow forever. Get fatter and bigger and heavier and softer. Please.
Or...
Because I can't actually decide what scenario I've thought of is my favorite here, I'm gonna do little bits of a bunch of different ones. Bucky could be anywhere when the curse triggers.
As always, unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead! Be warned! Immobility. Rapid weight gain. Tight clothes/clothes destruction. Etc.
Is Bucky in the kitchen, bent over, looking into the lower cabinets when it happens?
If he's there in the kitchen... he's scratching his stomach over his shirt as it growls, needing a snack. His other hand isn't against his body but, instead, resting on the countertop, keeping him upright as he peruses the snacks stored down there with his legs straight, bent at the waist to make a 90° angle.
And Steve has been watching, laughing, from his perch against the door frame, as Bucky lamented over the fact that they have no snacks left, despite evidence of the contrary in front of him - multiple bags of chips and crackers and such. Snacks, but not the "good ones" according to Bucky. Ergo, no snacks left.
Steve isn't laughing at Bucky when suddenly Bucky stops scratching his complaining tummy though. Instead, he rests his hand flat against his belly. He cuts himself off into silence.
"Buck?"
Bucky's stomach growls loud enough to respond for him. He needn't talk when his tummy is gurgling like that. Before either of them can say a thing, Bucky's tummy bulges forward. Suddenly, it's hanging out of the bottom hem of his shirt! His shirt which is... tight?
Tight.
His shirt is tight all the sudden, squeezed around suddenly juicy love handles that were not there before.
What?
The next sound isn't words either, it's the sound of the seams of Bucky's jeans complaining.
Steve feels his mouth water as Bucky's ass visibly widens before his very eyes. Bucky had been thicker than Steve had ever seen him when he found him in Romanian but this is even more than that. Even thicker. Less chub over muscle and more just... chub.
The seam across Bucky's ass is the first to give.
RIIIIIIP
Steve can see the fabric of his underwear through the tear, it's so substantial. He's grown so much. But, soon Steve can see all of his underwear as the seams down the side of his plush thighs rip open too.
Oh.
Bucky's shirt rips too. Exposing his suddenly chubby upper back and love handles and -
Steve moves without even thinking. He has to sink his fingers into all that soft fat. 🥵
He has to touch and he has to moan as Bucky falls onto all fours with an obscene sound of his own. He keeps growing. Widening. His belly almost kisses the floor now. His gut. His thighs are massive. The last clinging bits of clothes are ripping even more. There is going to be nothing left. He is exposed. In this new, huge body that is, fuck, so fucking sexy. God.
Is Bucky on the couch when it happens?
If Bucky is sitting there, arms spread out over the back of the sofa, Steve tucked into his side, when it happens he might not notice it at first. He might be too relaxed and chilled out to notice...
All he notices is that, huh, his waistband is kinda tight. Well, maybe he just went in a little hard with dinner? Maybe he's bloating a little bit and that's why his sweats are uncomfy all the sudden.
Steve shifts next to him.
Bucky can feel Steve's eyes on his gurgling, bloated abdomen. They're comfortable enough around each other that Bucky is unbothered with arching his back, sticking out his dinner-bloated belly and-
Oh.
There goes the waistband of his sweatpants, RIIIIIP, giving way and letting his belly bulge out into his lap. Rounding forward. A heavy, doughy ball only expanding like dough rises.
Fuck.
Bucky feels Steve's hand on his gut - they're both wordless, understanding that this might happen, the magic Strange explained to them - and he stifles a moan. It's so sensitive. His skin. He's growing. Skin tight and thin and he cannot help but whimper.
Jesus.
Steve stops rubbing his gut to pull up his shirt, exposing all of his round, fat gut to their eyes. Bucky's pecs swell and droop - he's fat there too. His shirt is so tight around his expanding chest and shoulders and -
His sweats rip further from his big love handles to his knees.
His shirt comes next. RIIIIIIIP. Shredding. He's so big. Steve is panting next to him as if he's the one who is growing, piling on the pounds so so fast that it's leaving his head spinning. Bucky is growing so fast.
The sofa creaks.
Steve stands up lightning-fast, half to prevent the sofa from breaking under their weight and half because he wants to get both hands on Bucky and he can't in that side angle. Bucky doesn't stop growing.
He's so big, but for now, the sofa stays in one piece. Only giving warning creaks here and there when Steve presses into a particularly sensitive spot on Bucky's doughy belly, leaving Bucky gasping and shifting in place under his new, huge gut.
Oh, fuck.
He could get used to this.
Shit.
He could get used to this. Being crushed under his own weight while being waited on, hand and foot, by Steve.
Is Bucky in the bedroom, relaxing before bed, when it happens?
And much like with the sofa setting, he starts growing out of nowhere, relaxing, and he doesn't notice... but... it takes even longer for him to notice because when he's in bed, reading on his phone, lying on his side, he's naked. They always sleep naked. So, it's not until Steve laughs, "Buck, you're pushing me off the bed, stop," that Bucky even notices anything.
With no clothes to get too tight... he had no idea he was getting so big.
He. is. so. big.
What?
Where did all this fat come from?
Where did all this belly and thigh and ass and tit come from?
Bucky feels his chin double or triple when he looks down at himself. He moans when Steve pushes back against him, his back, again. He's so fat that he has rolls stacking up on his back. The fat has nowhere to go, and yet, still, he's getting bigger! Fatter!
Yes!
Bucky moans again when Steve goes from pushing to be an annoying dick to pushing so he can slip his fingers in between his newly formed fat rolls.
A blush burns over Bucky's face.
Suddenly, all he can think about is growing too big for the bed. All he can think about is breaking the bed. Getting so fat. So large. So fucking massive with all this blubber that... that he's too fat to fuck normally but more than fat enough for Steve to fuck his rolls 😳😳
Is Bucky fresh out of the shower when it happens?
If Bucky is just from the shower with damp hair, clothed only in a bathrobe, he's walking back and forth between gathering clothes from the bedroom closet and going back to the bedroom then he doesn't notice his gain until the tie at the center of his bathrobe tugs itself loose. No problem, Bucky just tightens it once more, assuming he made a poor knot in the first place. And when Bucky notices a little more jiggle in his ass than normal as he walks, well, he just smirks and figures he's been snacking too much or the extra squats are paying off. Whatever it is, he'll be pleased to show off his work to Steve, later, unless...
Bucky pops his head out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom, looking for Steve where he swears he just heard the other man.
He stands there, searching for long enough that...
Hey, wha-?
Bucky feels a brush at both sides of his body. Did Steve sneak behind him? Is the punk trying to scare him again?
Bucky looks over his shoulder as his stupid robe loosens again and -
Nope. What the-?
"Buck, what're you doing, standing there?" Steve says from in front of him.
Huh?
Bucky shifts his weight where he stands.
Oh.
Oh.
Bucky swallows, looking down at his suddenly massive gut and what must be HUGE thighs and hips beyond where he can see thanks to the untamed bloat of his belly, then he looks up. Back to Steve.
His hips, his whole body, has gotten so fat that his hips are brushing the sides of the doorway.
When?
Steve is looking at him darkly. Looking at him where he's not so slowly outgrowing his robe, exposing all his lotioned-up, bare, pale skin.
No no no, Bucky starts to back up, out of the doorway. But, Steve steps up to him, his hands grabbing - holding.
Even without speaking, Bucky knows Steve wants him to stay here. "Steeeve," Bucky whines, panting as his muscles try to hold up all this new weight, "I. am. not. going. to. willingly. get. stuck. here. Let go."
Steve just breaks out those stupid puppy dog eyes, "why not-?"
"Pffft, why not, you punk? I'm not gonna destroy the architecture of our h-"
Steve's hands grip his fat harshly. It feels good. The squish. Shit. He might... he might stay here. Okay. He might. He might fill this whole doorway and he might fill the whole house eventually, getting so so big and fat and-
Anyway, this is all waffling aside, so I hope it suffices your needs
Jesus. 🥴🥴
Who would've known that he'd have a thing for that but... the idea has him squirming in a way that he cannot blame on suddenly overtaxed muscles, shaking under the stress. All he has to blame is Steve where he's grabbing and squishing and playing with his heavy belly bulging out from the front of his body like a yoga ball.
#ask#mylevisdontfitanymore#belly kink#text#weight gain#rapid weight gain#magical weight gain#steve rogers#bucky barnes#stucky#chubby bucky#fat bucky#immobility#clothes destruction
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Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs — Patrick/Jonathan {Part 2}
••••••
"I'm beyond your peripheral vision (so you might want to turn your head)" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 3,418 | It takes the combination of prospect camp, training camp, and their first week on the road together for Johnny to realize Patrick is his soulmate. The first person he calls is Dan.
"red lips, so kissable" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 3,569 | When Pat had finally come to him with this after six months of dating without things imploding, he'd been hesitant. "I just.... I think about making myself pretty sometimes," he had said, blushing. "Like a girl."
"crash into me" (E) by fadeastride | 3,403 | And that’s not some chick. That’s fucking Pat.
"Make The Moves Up As I Go" 🔒 (E) by agirlnamedfia | 30,354 | Patrick has his first Econ 202 class on the second day of the spring semester. It doesn’t exactly go well.
"Sommeil" (M) by MJBadger | 1,622 | Jonny being weird about public bathrooms and lots of sleepiness.
"let it all unfurl" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 2,545 | "Brooklyn is not Bumfuck, Tazer. And, you know, irony noted, seeing as you're from Winnipeg." "Whatever," Jon says darkly, punching fists into his jacket pockets like there’s some satisfaction to be had in stressing the seams of their linings. He doesn't care where Brooklyn is—if it belongs to this city, he's already made up his mind about it. "You're paying for the cab ride. There and back." Sharpy just laughs like Jon has told a good joke. "Sure thing, Tazer."
"and it's over, and i'm goin' under" (E) by mockturtletale | 15,011 | And that’s the story of how Kaner finds himself slumping down to the floor against his best friend’s front door, shaking a little and half covered in goosebumps. Sporting a semi and fighting the urge to cry.
"kiss and tell" 🔒 (T) by sloom | 2,169 | “Trust me,” Sharpy says, “this will be good for you.” And then, he shoves Jonny into what appears to be a mostly empty coat closet and slams the door shut behind him. “What the fuck, Sharp!” Jonny calls, pounding at the door which is, of course, locked. “Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven, Tazer,” Sharpy singsongs. Then, the bare bulb mounted on the ceiling flares to life, illuminating one Patrick Kane. Fuck.
"i don't play hard to get (i play to get you hard)" 🔒 (E) by sloom | 4,666 | Jonny starts out in twink porn - of course he does, he’s nineteen, all big dark eyes and delicate features. He never planned on being a porn star, it just sort of happened. He got injured and lost his hockey scholarship and, well, everyone has their story about how they got into porn. Jonny needed the money. Simple as that.
"left standing in the wilderness downtown" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 4,051 | They’re friends, though that’s always felt like a watered-down word for what they are, teammates and halves of a whole and things that are too big for language. Jonny’s his person, is all.
"anxious like the ocean in a storm" 🔒 (M) by poeelektra | 4,169 | “Did you know Savvy and Larmer combined for 220 pts in ’87-’88? Last week I watched them pummel the North Stars, a 6-point night for Savvy, with a hat trick.” He leaves off how his eyes were glued to the screen watching the two of them, because Jonny has no poetry in his soul. It just made Patrick wonder—about their futures, if what everyone’s saying is true, what it’ll be like to go all the way like he thinks him and Jonny can do—and the wondering gave him goosebumps.
"Okay, So Now You're a Vegetarian" 🔒 (M) by anonymous | 33,854 | Patrick Kane secretly decides to go vegetarian. Jonathan Toews draws the wrong conclusions.
"Good Times Never Seemed So Good" (E) by juliusschmidt | 21,171 | Johnny is a miserable bastard. Kaner is a needy fuck. They are meant for each other and also for summer on Mackinac Island, fratbro paradise.
"Media Vita In Morte Sumus" 🔒 (T) by jezziejay | 2,556 | Life is standing on the observation deck of the surgical theatre when Death finds him. “Nobody called for the grim reaper,” Jon says without turning around. There’s a soft snicker from behind him. “I’m omnipresent, I don’t need to be called.”
"I Could Dream of Ways to See You, I Could Close My Eyes to Dream" (M) by Frosting50 | 2,686 | Jonny’s head falls back against the metal stall divider with a resounding thud. He keeps making these small punched out grunts, even as he bites his lips in an effort to keep quiet. He has zero desire to get caught by some homophobic Jets fan while he’s getting his dick sucked in the men’s room at the MTS Centre, but -- Jesus Christ -- this kid has a mouth on him.
"Go, Johnny, Go" (E) by juliusschmidt | 4,387 | Jonny gives Kaner a ticket. To the courthouse. Kaner gives Jonny a ticket. To the love shack hockey game.
"don't look up, down, or to the side" 🔒 (M) by hazel | 8,282 | His mom had told him not to fall in love with houses; so had his dad, made some crack about them being worse than women, son, while his mom fake-punched him in the arm and then added, "and like people, it's what's underneath that matters, Johnny." But this is the first house he's looked at that he's liked, though he doesn't know why: it's got narrow, pointy windows with stone pieces on the tops like eyebrows, and it sits between its larger, tidier, neighbours like a poor cousin. Johnny thinks it maybe just needs someone to love it; and then he thinks: fuck.
"Let It Be" (E) by juliusschmidt | 60,127 | There’s one person who knows more about Pat than Brisson, one person who’s closer to discovering Pat’s secrets than his mom, one person who always, always, calls bullshit on him: Jonathan Fucking Toews. And following the launch of the Sun-Times article, which runs with the unfortunate headline “Patrick Kane Admits He’s Not God,” Jonny does not disappoint.
"Power Balance" (E) by thisissirius | 13,476 | The body of the email just says, “don’t fuck seguin” because Jonny doesn’t know what capital letters are and he’s a controlling asshole even when he’s miles away, and attached to it is a spreadsheet that Patrick reluctantly opens. It’s color-coded with tabs and he’s not sure whether he wants to punch Jonny in the mouth or laugh in his face. Calling him in the middle of the airport is a really bad fucking idea and Patrick knows something about those, so he settles for sending Jonny a message. YOU SENT ME A JERK-OFF SCHEDULE FOR SWITZERLAND?!
"break me in" (E) by thundersquall | 5,386 | Today Patrick comes into the locker room, shrugs off his coat, and underneath he's wearing a fucking tight tee that clings to every dip and curve of his musculature. It looks fucking painted on, and the sight of it slams Jonathan like a puck to his face, stunning and somehow primal and just bordering on the edge of obscene, how good Patrick looks in that.
"the high road is hard to find" (M) by anonymous | 11,304 | Patrick guesses this is his “third strike, you’re out” in the Jonathan Toews friendship book and he doesn’t know how to remedy that. He doesn't think he deserves the chance, to be honest.
"you look so perfect" 🔒 (E) by tarcanza | 4,270 | His eyes land on Jonny, and his rage chokes in his throat. Dries right up and flips on a dime like a fucking chemical reaction. Jonny’s lying on his stomach in the middle of his bed, reading a book. He’s in nothing but those stupid, tiny black boxer-briefs, stretched tight over the swell of his ass. One side’s jacked, fabric pushed up so that his cheek’s just hanging out all casual, fucking taunting Patrick.
"easy does it" (E) by robokittens | 2,137 | Jonny tips his head forward, rests it against Patrick's shoulder. "You got this, baby," he whispers. "You can take this; you were made for it. Made for me." It doesn't even feel like dirty talk, just like the truth.
"The Scars That Words Have Carved" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 15,694 | “Forgive me for asking, Peeks,” Sharpy says, slowly. “But did you just kiss our illustrious captain, here?” “Um.” Patrick’s not sure what this captain business is about, but: “Yes?” Jonny’s still staring at him like he’s grown four or five extra heads, and, okay. Patrick definitely read this wrong.
"Wide Eyes" (E) by Tedda | 44,832 | When he starts hooking up with Patrick, Jonny slowly begins to realize a few things about himself.
"a hot summer night" (E) by Tedda | 5,267 | Patrick arrives in Arizona on a hot summer night. He hasn't talked to Jonny in five years, and it would have felt weird to do it over the phone for the first time.
"Dress Well, Test Well" 🔒 (M) by Kerfluffle | 9,649 | A liberal arts college AU.
"Streets of Chicago" 🔒 (E) by TheNorthRemembers | 79,749 | Patrick is 29 years old when he finds out he is HIV positive. Patrick is 29 years old when he realizes that despite giving up everything for hockey, he still might lose it over one stupid mistake, one careless, reckless night.
"a hot summer night" (E) by Tedda | 5,267 | Patrick arrives in Arizona on a hot summer night. He hasn't talked to Jonny in five years, and it would have felt weird to do it over the phone for the first time.
"blue eyes, velvet lips" (E) by Tedda | 10,356 | Prince Jonathan finds a runaway slave. Clearly, the only solution is taking the boy home.
"Wide Eyes" (E) by Tedda | 44,832 | When he starts hooking up with Patrick, Jonny slowly begins to realize a few things about himself.
"The Scars That Words Have Carved" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 15,694 | “Forgive me for asking, Peeks,” Sharpy says, slowly. “But did you just kiss our illustrious captain, here?” “Um.” Patrick’s not sure what this captain business is about, but: “Yes?” Jonny’s still staring at him like he’s grown four or five extra heads, and, okay. Patrick definitely read this wrong.
"It Must Be Something in the Water" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 40,228 | After five years away, living on the west coast, coming to terms with his sexuality, Patrick comes back to his coastal hometown to be with his family again and to start working at his dad's dealership, determined to get his life back on track, to leave behind all emotional messes and complications. But on the first morning of his return he meets Jonny, his sister's new boyfriend, and falls hard in lust with him, throwing an enormous wrench in his plan.
"Sleepless in Chicago" 🔒 (E) by sahiya | 4,894 | “Babe,” Jonny said, “how long has it been since you slept?” “Three nights,” Patrick said.
"Muscle Stim" 🔒 (E) by sahiya | 7,672 | The last thing Patrick needed was a stupid crush on the dude whose job it was to get him back out on the ice as quickly as possible.
"Didn't Know That Was a Thing" 🔒 (T) by AnythingThrice | 1,303 | Patrick notices it as he's searching the shelves in Jonny's bedroom for Madden 08: a weird glass sculpture, glossy black with bands of a trippy, swirling white pattern that seem to sit just under the surface. He figures it for a knickknack at first, some art piece his decorator suggested or—more likely—one of those locally-and-sustainably crafted souvenirs Jonny tends to bring back from his vacations.
"Not Something You Rub in (Just) Anyone's Face" 🔒 (E) by AnythingThrice | 6,736 | "Don’t wanna talk about it," Patrick cuts in, voice firmer now. As far as he's concerned they'd done all the necessary talking back in April. Offseason rules – offseason lives – set and followed and fucking done. World Cup over. Summer gone. Long past time to get back to the good stuff: friendly ice, Blackhawks hockey and being first star in Jonny's eyes.
"Shitshow" 🔒 (E) by AnythingThrice | 19,989 | Jonathan thought they'd outgrown this. Or no, if he's being honest with himself, he thought Pat had outgrown it while he'd merely shoved it aside, banished it to the realm of things it didn't help to dwell on.
"Fill Up Your Mouth with Something Sweet" 🔒 (E) by Linsky | 3,904 | The amazing thing, Jonny reflects after a couple of months with the Blackhawks, is how Patrick Kane manages to be such a good hockey player and yet so wrong about everything.
"the whole of him" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,258 | Patrick did nothing else for this moment but live with inconvenient erections since they talked about doing it, only showing up at Jonny’s door in sweats and a t-shirt and his morning-long semi he’d made sure to trap in the kind of tight underwear that would make Jonny proud. Well fine, Patrick also did some video research. Watching review tapes is important. But Jonny--fucking Jonathan Toews--he got ready for this.
"What It Means" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 1,312 | They’ve never been like this with each other before. He doesn’t know if it’s the sun, being away from Chicago and their lives, or just them finally being able to have this, but it catches inside Jonny’s chest. Little swoops in his stomach that surprise him every time, make it hard to breathe.
"Tell the Stars I'm Coming Home" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 15k WIP | Jonny and Patrick have three weeks left to live. Three weeks to find their way back to each other.
"La Piscine" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,484 | Pat didn’t think it was possible, but if anything, Jonathan Toews has gotten hotter since Pat saw him last summer. It’s kind of a bummer that they don’t go to the same college, but Pat appreciates the surprise. He doesn’t know what’s in the water up there in Montreal, but God Bless Canada.
"S(t)ick" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 2,842 | “What’s gotten into you, man,” Jonny says, softly. The ‘you’ is on Patrick's lips before he can realize he’s thought it, hysterical laugh bubbling into his throat at the cheesiness of it, the disgusting idiocy, but instead he says, “it’s this heat, man, I can’t—” Think. Sleep. Fucking drink a beer like normal. Look at Jonny and see what he used to see.
"Shawty With You" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 6,764 | 5 times Pat and Jonny needed mistletoe to kiss, and one time they didn't.
"134 Days" 🔒 (E) by allthebros | 3,406 | It's been a long winter without him.
"Nothin' But Blue Skies" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 2,708 | Perhaps the middle of Wisconsin wasn't the right place to tell Jonny.
"Sonoran" 🔒 (T) by allthebros | 2,177 | Somewhat newly retired, Patrick makes his way to Arizona where Jonny's ostensibly getting his own shit together. It's summer in the desert, and it's been too long since they've seen each other.
••••••
This list is ongoing.
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how would you suggest getting into ultraman? i see stuff you and others post/reblog and it looks cool, but it also seems, uh, all interconnected? and i dunno what a good jumping-on point is!
Hi!! Ok so Ultraman SEEMS really interconnected, and in some cases, it is! The first seven or so shows are all one continuity, and then Mebius shows up all the way in 2006 to be the capstone to that story.
It's also the case for "new gen" shows, those being Ultraman Ginga (2013) to Ultraman Decker (2022), where any Ultra from any era can kinda just show up for a few episodes!
But the extremely cool thing about Ultraman as a franchise is that even though these shows can call crossover, you REALLY don't have to have any extra knowledge to understand what's going on! In every case that I've seen, any reference to another show will be well explained, regardless of if you have any knowledge going in, or otherwise totally understandable. They work really hard to make Ultraman accessible for everyone, especially newcomers.
If you've watched any toku, I'm sure you've heard 'you can start anywhere, just pick one you like the vibe of!' and that's also true for Ultraman! Every show is a great place to jump in!!
For my personal picks, I should start by saying I've only watched one Showa Ultraman. Sorry Showa fans, I just haven't gotten there yet!! So these recs will be from recent series.
I think I would say Ultraman Orb is a great starting place. The overall story is one about the guy who is Ultraman, and the guy who is his nemesis, their very long journey towards self forgiveness and self empowerment, and the human woman who looks at a centuries long cosmic ballet of spite and hurt and says "no. you aren't nearly as scary as you think you are." I think it has a very accessible, relatable story!
My first was actually Ultraman Ginga, which is a VERY low budget, low key entry in the series. It's about being in highschool, and being friends, and also sometimes you are Ultraman. Ginga gets a bad rep in some circles that prefer more spectacle, but for me it was like, ok so this show was made for NO MONEY, but somehow even with very very little to work with, it got across the IDEAS of Ultraman so simply and so well that it hooked me on the whole franchise.
A third option would be Ultraman Mebius! "Davis you just said Mebius is a capstone to the first like 7 Showa Ultras" yes i know but Mebius is. So good. It's just bursting at the seams with love for the series, and totally understandable for a newcomer. It's the story of a very young alien coming to Earth with no knowledge or experience, and how he frankly fucks up?? But then about how he learns, and grows, and fucks up, and tries again, over and over.
Oh oh oh I would be remiss if I didn't say the current show, Ultraman Blazar, is not connected to any other show, and it's coming out Friday nights, and it's really good so far! It's all on the tsuburaya productions youtube, and simulcasts with both subs and a dub!
SO..... I hope that isn't too much information!! I could keep going, is the thing. Do you want more sympathy for the monsters? X! Do you want a story about fighting the stigma that you're inherently evil because of your birth? Geed! Do you want that same idea but made for no money and more about a found family? Mega Monster Battle! Do you like family shows? R/B! Do you want to watch one of the most influential pieces of Japanese pop culture from the last century? ULTRASEVEN. Do you just want to watch a movie? Revenge of Belial!
Have fun, and let me know if you find one that clicks with you!
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