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izelascendant · 1 day

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Sportsmanlike

Chapter 2 - Finalist Fusion

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Rating | Mature Summary | What happens after the party on Long Island. Pairing | f!Original Character x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig Tags | Tennis, Competition, Love Triangles (Squares?), Jealousy, Plot, Emotional Infidelity, Eventual smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships Word Count | 4.7K Author's note | This chapter contains smut. Things get juicy, alright.

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Sportsmanlike on AO3 | Chapter 1 - US Open 2006, Chapter 2 - Finalist Fusion, Chapter 3 - Aftermath and Accolades, ...

She senses their approach and gives Tashi a subtle nudge, discreetly alerting her to their presence. Tashi turns around, her gaze meeting the boys' with a playful curiosity sparkling in her eyes. The confidence is palpable as she stands tall, exuding a sense of self-assurance. Meanwhile, she stands shyly beside Tashi, her body language more reserved, but her allure still present.

Patrick takes the lead, his confidence evident as he introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Patrick Zweig,” He struts over, his stance slightly crooked yet self-assured.

Art chimes in with a nervous chuckle, “—Art Donaldson.”

Patrick continues, his voice carrying a hint of admiration. "We saw both your matches," he remarks, eager to initiate a conversation.

Tashi interrupts with a cool and charming tone, her words tinged with a hint of intimidation. "We know who you are." Her words spark an air of mystique, leaving the boys slightly stunned yet intrigued.

"Fire and Ice, right?" She takes her turn to ask after Tashi, sipping her drink through a straw with a faint smile dancing across her lips.

Art can't help but mumble to himself quietly, "Oh my god," he whispers, his eyes fixated on her. Patrick echoes his sentiments, a knowing smile on his face as he nods in agreement. “In the flesh.”

Tashi redirects her attention toward Art, a curious gleam in her eyes. "You're going to Stanford, right?" she asks, pointing his way with her finger.

Art looks slightly taken aback, his surprise evident as he confirms, "I am. How did you know?"

As Art and Tashi continue to talk, she continues to sip her drink, shifting her weight as she feels Patrick's discreet gaze fall upon her. His lips curl upward in a subtle gesture as he steals a quick glance at her.

Art asks a question, directing her attention back to him. "What about you? You enrolled anywhere?" he inquires.

She straightens up a little, a small chuckle escaping her lips at her own uncertainty. "Oh," she shrugs, "My team tells me I could get a scholarship pretty much anywhere based on how I'm playing, but—I still don’t know.”

Patrick turns towards her, his voice lighthearted and playful. "Skip all that," he smirks, gesturing towards Art and Tashi. "You should go pro like me. Or at least give it a try."

Tashi chimes in, wrapping her arm around hers, her tone persuasive. "No, I think you should come to Stanford too," she suggests with a playfully stern expression, her suggestion backed up by her own firm belief. Art and Patrick exchange a knowing glance, recognizing the power dynamics at play in their impromptu discussion.

Art interjects with a bit of humor, raising his hands in surrender. "Two against one," he jokes, gesturing toward Patrick.

Patrick can't help but let out a hearty laugh and shake his head in response as the conversation takes a light-hearted and playful turn.

The group is immersed in a moment of silence, the air filled with a potent mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. She ponders over Tashi's intentions—aware of their mutual attraction towards the boys—but unsure about how the night will unfold. As her thoughts swirl, she willingly places her trust in Tashi's hands, prepared to embrace whatever the night might bring.

The moment of silence is broken by Patrick's words, directed towards Tashi. "Your backhand is incredible." He compliments her, and his admiration is evident. Almost simultaneously, Art speaks up, addressing her opponent, "I wanted to ask you about that last point you scored."

It's comical how Patrick and Art's observations towards each girl overlap, their words perfectly synchronized. The girls exchange a lighthearted chuckle, amused by the boys' almost synchronized timing.

Art turns away with a sheepish chuckle, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. Patrick, on the other hand, continues to laugh heartily as he keeps his gaze on the girls, seemingly relishing the moment.

Tashi's father interrupts them, requesting her attention with a commanding tone. "Baby, I need to steal you for a second. Over at the trophies," he instructs.

She acknowledges the request with a simple "Oh, okay," and then she brushes her dress off before giving a final glance in their direction. "I have to go take pictures; I'll be right back," she says before walking over to her father, her grace and beauty radiant as she follows him.

All three of them—the redhead, the blonde, and the brunette—are momentarily captivated as they watch Tashi walk away, their eyes following her every move. But then, as their gazes shift back from Tashi to her, she feels a sudden wave of fluster and bashfulness wash over her, unused to the attention being directed her way.

Patrick's voice retains its playful tone as he asks, "So, how long have you two known each other for exactly?"

She giggles before answering, her voice soft, "Since yesterday."

Art looks surprised, remarking with raised eyebrows, "Really? You both seem pretty close." He observes the easy chemistry between them, intrigued by their fast connection.

She shrugs with a hint of satisfaction. "I guess I'm lucky to have been chosen by Tashi Duncan," she says, a proud smile playing on her lips. Her tone then shifts to a more pensive note as she continues, her gaze fixed on Tashi in the distance. "I honestly have no idea why she likes me."

Patrick's voice interjects with a bit of teasing, his tone playful. "Because you might beat her in the finals."

Art counters immediately, his tone more sincere, "Because you seem like a really sweet girl."

Confused and amused by the opposing answers, her gaze switches between the two, a smile starting to dance on her lips. She shrugs slightly, replying with a hint of humor, "Maybe a bit of both."

The conversation continues, flowing naturally as she engages with both boys, sharing their thoughts on tennis, personal backgrounds, and future plans. Art's gentle and humble outlook balances nicely with Patrick's more confident and comical style.

She clears her throat, preparing to leave as she points aimlessly towards the crowd. “I’m gonna go see if I can try and find Tashi.”

Art stops her by gently grabbing her arm. She turns to look at him, her expression slightly surprised. Art quietly speaks, with a hint of eagerness in his voice. "Meet us back here?" His question hangs in the air, his earnestness charming.

She offers a simple smile, nodding in agreement. "Yeah," she confirms. Her gaze lingers on Art for a moment before shifting to Patrick. With a final glance, she turns and walks away, leaving the boys to watch her go.

She finally returns with Tashi after leaving the boys waiting for what feels like an eternity. The boys had begun to wonder if they had been abandoned, thinking the girls might not come back after all. But there they were, returning as promised, much to their relief and anticipation.

Tashi's voice rings out, a hint of teasing in her tone as she says, "You guys are still here," as they approach.

Patrick tries to play it cool, replying with a casual shrug as he says, "Yeah, it's nothing," only to find Tashi even more amused by his effort to appear unbothered.

As the evening progresses and guests begin to leave, the wind gently picks up, creating a subtle breeze. The two boys and girls stand facing each other, their gazes occasionally meeting and holding for that extra fraction of a millisecond. The air is filled with anticipation, the silence between them speaking volumes.

The silence is broken by Patrick, who pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. He offers them to her and Tashi, asking, "Smoke?"

Tashi declines with a hint of superiority in her tone, saying, "Nah."

Patrick grins smugly, taking a cigarette and placing it between his lips before passing the pack to Art. Art then asks, "They also put you girls at the hotel in Flushing?"

She answers with a casual shrug, "I’m on the first floor."

She then looks over at Tashi, who narrows her eyes a tad at Art's mention of the hotel. Tashi teasingly asks with a suggestive tone, "Why, want us to come tuck you guys in?"

Art and Patrick share a lighthearted laugh. Patrick lights his cigarette and takes a puff before replying with a playful shrug, suggesting, "We can just keep talking." He adds, with a hint of mischief, "We've got beer."

She can't help but bite the inside of her cheek, holding back a smirk as she glances at Tashi and then back to the boys. A soft sigh escapes her as she slips off her heels, her bare feet now touching the cool grass beneath.

She chuckles softly, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. "Whatever the plan is, let’s keep the walking to a minimum," she suggests, her feet already feeling the relief of being freed from her heels.

Tashi doesn't relent; her voice is tinged with a slight defiance. "My dad's probably gonna come looking for me," she protests, though a hint of excitement flickers in her eyes.

Patrick casually offers a suggestion, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Just ride the shuttle back to the hotel with us. Meet up with your dad, and then come hang out. Room 206.”

Art nods in agreement, the boys silently waiting for Tashi's response. Tashi directs a playful look at her before glancing back at the boys.

Tashi's nonchalant tone betrays her hidden excitement as she says with a shrug, "Alright."

She exchanges a smile with Tashi, before they follow behind the boys. Art quietly offers to carry her heels for her, a thoughtful gesture that she gratefully accepts. She walks beside him, thanking him softly.

The ride back is invigorating, the gentle breeze caressing their hair as they share laughter, the air filled with a sense of warmth and liveliness. There's a touch of bittersweetness, the feeling of those final blissful nights of summer lingering in the air.

She feels a spark of boldness, taking the cigarette from Patrick’s hand and inhaling deeply. Tashi and Art watch as she takes the hit, a serene and beautiful figure with her head tilted slightly to the side as the shuttle glides along the pavement towards the hotel.

Tashi laughs heartily as Art gently holds her in place during each sharp turn, her amusement echoing through the air. The ride may be brief, but it's fun and memorable—a moment sure to be ingrained in their minds for days to come.

Tashi and her girl

For a brief moment, they part ways as the boys head upstairs to their room. With linked hands, Tashi leads her down the corridor on the first floor. Barefoot and heels in hand, they tread silently across the plush carpeting of the hotel floor.

Tashi halts in front of her hotel room door, pivoting to face her directly. With a gentle touch, Tashi holds her face as she speaks. "You know, you're sweet, but—” Her tone is affectionate but firm. "You can't let them get what they want so easily. You need to keep them on their toes. Make them work for it. It has to be challenging."

She blinks, taken aback by Tashi’s unexpected words. However, a chuckle escapes her as she replies with a hint of amusement.

"Challenging? This isn't tennis, Tashi," she echoes with a mixture of humor and slight perplexity.

Tashi's tone grows more serious as she amends her previous statement, her words carrying a firm conviction. "No,” she clarifies, “It’s exactly like tennis.”

She stands there, puzzled and a little uncertain about what to say next, her mind swirling with confusion at the unexpected turn the conversation has taken.

Tashi releases her, gesturing towards the elevator. "Go," she commands, her tone shifting back to a softer, more affectionate tone. "I'll join you soon."

She knows better than to question Tashi, so she simply replies, "Don’t take too long," sounding almost like a plea. She turns and makes her way towards the elevator, her mind filled with curiosity and anticipation.

Art and Patrick

Patrick wastes no time undressing—feeling like they had been waiting forever yet again. He slouches back in the old chair in the corner of the hotel room, a cigarette between his lips. He shuffles through a deck of cards with a distracted air, clad only in a pair of dark boxer shorts.

Art is sprawled out on his bed in only his boxers, one leg resting against the wall in a comfortable yet odd pose. A heavy sigh escapes him as he lies there, his mind no doubt pondering the events of the night thus far.

The room is uncomfortably hot—thanks to the malfunctioning air conditioning—the light casts an intimate and cozy glow that mingled with the smoke that clung to the air as Patrick continues to idly puff on his cigarette.

Then, there’s a knock.

The unexpected knock jolts them, prompting them to swiftly spring into action. Patrick, frantically searching for whatever clothing he can find, “Shit,” he mumbles, accidentally grabbing one of Art's shirts and hastily throwing it on without bothering to button it. Art, equally hurried, snatches a shirt from somewhere and pulls it over his head as he dashes towards the door, ready to open it.

They swing open the door to find her standing there, a small smile gracing her lips, her heels still clutched in her hand. Her copper hair is now loose, revealing the soft cascades of her curls that frame her face and fall effortlessly by her sides.

Art greets her with a cheerful "Hi" and Patrick chimes in with a casual "Hey" as they stand there, a bit breathless from their frantic last-minute cleaning frenzy.

She lets out a low laugh, amused by their flustered state. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she explains apologetically, her smile lingering on her lips. "Tashi will be here in a second."

Art offers a simple response, "Yeah, yeah, cool," followed by a nod from Patrick, their momentary pause abruptly broken by her chuckle.

She looks at them with a grin as she teases, "So, are you going to let me in, or—?"

They seem to regain their senses, stepping aside with a sheepish grin. "Sorry—" Art begins, his voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "We, uh, yeah, come in." Patrick motions for her to come in, both boys seemingly a bit flustered by her sudden presence.

Finalist Fusion

And right on cue, another knock reverberates through the room, signaling Tashi's arrival. Tashi strolls in, having swapped out her previous attire for something more comfortable and laid-back.

Beers cracked, the three of them had already begun to indulge before Tashi walked in, leaving them slightly ahead in the inebriation department.

The four of them lounge comfortably on the floor of room 206, their bodies relaxed yet buzzing with exhilaration. Tashi rests her head on her new friend's lap, her body language carefree and at ease. Art leans back against one of the beds, his gaze lazily drifting around the room while Patrick sits somewhere in the middle, their legs slightly tangled up in their relaxed state. The floor is covered in an array of beer cans, the bottle of vodka glinting among them as the ashtray holds the remnants of extinguished cigarettes.

The gathering kicks off with a series of card games, each round filled with fierce competition, lighthearted banter, and uproarious laughter. As the night progresses, the cards are set aside as their focus shifts to the drinks and conversations take a more intimate turn. Secret confessions and whispered truths slowly begin to fill the air, replacing the joviality of the card games.

"Alright. Patrick was an early bloomer, okay?” Art admits with a hint of embarrassment, a pink flush creeping up his cheeks as they delve deeper into the conversation.

Tashi chimes in with a playful smile, attempting to lighten the mood. "You know, that is a pretty cute story," she says, her tone supportive and amused.

Patrick grins at the redhead, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he prompts, "Yeah, it's only fair that you share a story now," with a teasing grin.

She raises her eyebrow in mock protest, her playful nature shining through. "Me?" she echoes, pointing to herself before breaking into a lighthearted chuckle.

Tashi leaned in closer, her interest piqued as she chimed in with a curious tone, "Now I'm curious too."

She responds with a light chuckle, feigning distress at the sudden attention on her. "This is a lot of pressure, all eyes are on me," she exclaims with an exaggerated tone, her smirk revealing her playful intentions.

Art chimes in playfully, “You heard the embarrassing story of how Patrick taught me how to jerk off,” he grins. “You owe us one in return”

"C’mon, you’re not fooling anyone," Patrick says with a playful smirk, exhaling a puff of smoke from his cigarette. "I refuse to believe you’re as innocent as you seem. You have to have a story or two to share," he presses on, confident that she’s harbored some intimate secrets.

She exchanges a knowing look with Tashi, a bemused smile on her lips before taking a deep breath. The alcohol has done its work, dissolving many of the inhibitions that might otherwise have held her back. "Alright, fine," she says with a playful grin, crossing her legs and taking a generous sip from one of the open beer cans.

Tashi, Art, and Patrick all share a synchronized smirk, their curiosity piqued and their attention fully focused on her as she prepares to share her story.

"I got into quite a few scrapes when I was fourteen," she begins, her smile growing warmer as the memories flood back. "I was invited to a sleepover—a whole group of girls from my school."

Tashi chimes in with a nod and a raised eyebrow, commenting dryly, "Girls."

“Well, let’s just say me and this one girl wanted to—” She pauses, her cheeks tinted pink. “—Experiment.”

Patrick's chuckle breaks the brief silence, his intuition telling him where the story is headed. "I can see where this is going," he chimes in with a knowing grin.

"Well, once we had shut off the lights," she recalls, her tone filled with amusement, "there was a lot of kissing and not much breathing. Needless to say, we weren't as discreet as we thought, and we got quite the surprise when her mom walked in to find her daughter swapping spit with me."

Tashi is the first to comment, saying with a hint of playful bravado, "That's actually quite tame."

She shrugs and counters with a chuckle, leaning into Tashi as she challenges her, "Oh? Do you have a better story of your own you'd like to share?"

Tashi's peal giggles fill the air before she abruptly stands up, her infectious energy prompting her to announce, “No, but I sure do want to dance right now.” She swiftly extends her hands to help her up, her contagious spirits fueling her actions.

Art and Patrick follow her lead, rising to their feet to join in the moment. Their gaze remains focused on the girls, effortlessly following their lead as the music envelops the room and fills it with a playful energy.

♬ I'm everything you need

Put all you need in me

I don't need anything

I don't need anything ... ♬

Tashi’s at the center, shaking her head back and forth to the beat as the three of them dance around her, all of their moves slightly uncoordinated from the alcohol, but nobody seems to notice. They don’t need to notice, they're just having fun.

Tashi leans in towards Art, her body moving effortlessly to the rhythm of the beat as they sync their movements and share a laugh. Patrick closes the gap between him and the dancing redhead, captivated by the sweet scent that surrounds her. With a delicate touch, he takes her hand and twirls her around, drawing out another chuckle from her.

Without even realizing it, she finds herself trading places with Tashi, her body instinctively following the flow of the music, and ending up face-to-face with Art. They move in unison, their bodies swaying to the beat and their mouths forming the words to the song.

Tashi returns to the center, her hips moving with a mesmerizing allure that radiates a silent form of seduction.

With a swift turn, she breaks away from Art and moves towards Tashi, who welcomes her with open arms, clasping their hands together in time with the melody. Tashi takes the opportunity to spin her around, drawing her into a snug embrace, and something sparks within her, fueling her confidence at the touch.

Her hands find their way to Tashi's waist, resting gently on her warm skin. She closes the gap between them, planting a kiss on Tashi's neck, feeling the smoothness of her tan skin. Tashi's eyes close with a soft smile at the sensation, turning to face her and meet her gaze with an intensity that fills the air—the tension palpable.

She feels an overwhelming surge of heat spread across her entire body as their eyes meet, the intensity of Tashi's stare stirring a deep-rooted excitement within her. Suddenly—yet undeniably—Tashi leans in to kiss her; it is an unexpected yet inevitable moment that unfolds seamlessly.

Their lips meet again and again in a passionate dance of connection. Their hands explore each other's bodies, tracing along their waists, necks, hips, and backs, losing all sense of their surroundings.

Art and Patrick halt their dance, staring in disbelief at the intimate scene unraveling in front of them. Art's mouth hangs open, while Patrick lets out a light chuckle—a mix of surprise and intrigue. They stand as silent witnesses to the passionate display, both equally captivated and intrigued by the unexpected turn of events.

In a haze of alcohol-infused adrenaline, she finds herself leading Tashi toward the edge of the bed. The music's tempo picks up, fueling the chaotic energy that fills the air. Maybe it's the nonsensical nature of the moment that adds to the thrill.

Their actions become instinctual, driven by a mixture of desire and the carefree abandon that comes with drinking. Tashi's warm body becomes the canvas for her affection as her lips trace a path downward. Her voice is barely more than a hushed whisper, the desperate need to please her becomes her sole focus.

Tashi swiftly takes control, flipping their positions on their way to the mattress, her smirk directed at Art and Patrick, who remain captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Slowly and deliberately, she glides her hands under her dress, a teasing touch that only heightens the anticipation building between them.

Her eyes lock onto Tashi's as her face flushes with an intense heat, the pace of the moment not pausing to accommodate doubts or questions. She watches in a state of enthrallment as Tashi pulls off her panties with a quick flick, discarding them onto the ground with a careless gesture before disappearing beneath her dress.

Her fingers instinctively clutch at the sheets, her body tensing as a shaky breath escapes her lips.

Art and Patrick both become immobilized, their gazes fixated on the scene before them. Art stands frozen in place, his jaw still dropped as his mind struggles to process the unexpected turn of events, while Patrick quietly steps back to reclaim his seat on the chair, he settles in to enjoy the spectacle with a slightly amused expression. Hormones run high as they observe with a mix of astonishment and arousal.

A strangled moan escapes her lips, a desperate attempt to maintain her composure, as Tashi intensifies her efforts, her focus singular and intense.

Patrick's voice breaks through the heavy ambience, "Jesus, Tashi," he says, chuckling softly. "You're making it hard for the girl to breathe."

As she glances over, she catches sight of Patrick discreetly shifting in his seat, making adjustments in an attempt to soothe his arousal. Her eyes then flicker toward Art, who remains still, his expression filled with shock and disbelief. The evidence of his arousal is blatantly obvious, his tented boxers leaving no room for imagination.

Her body is hot with urgency as she reaches down, her hand tentatively resting atop Tashi's head. Between whimpers, she pleads, "Tash, please—" Her voice is filled with desperation, her need for release palpable in each syllable.

She finds herself on the cusp of her climax at an unexpectedly rapid pace. The combination of alcohol, circumstances, and built-up tension creates an explosive situation. She writhes against the mattress, her moans and pleas escaping in an unfiltered stream of desperate utterances.

Patrick shifts in his chair, trying to find some relief for his building desire. As he shifts uncomfortably, Art is unable to resist the impulse to press his palm against himself, the sight of the unfolding scene proving to be too much for him to resist any longer.

As the music quiets, she slowly comes back down to earth, her eyes fluttering open, still slightly disoriented.

Tashi emerges from beneath her dress, licking her lips with an air of nonchalance, as though she's just casually finished an ordinary task. Tashi reaches out to help her up, offering her hand with a casual smile that contradicts her earlier actions.

"Well, I'm going to bed," she declares, her tone relaxed and pleasant while her lips form a casual smile.

Tashi's declaration creates a slight stir in the room, leaving everyone slightly dazed, especially her.

She hastily composes herself, adjusting her dress and gathering her heels from the floor. "I'll go with you," she replies, her voice slightly flustered. "My room is on the same floor."

Art swiftly brings his hands to hide his crotch, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Clearing his throat, Patrick speaks up, attempting to diffuse the lingering tension. "We’ll see each other at the finals, right?" The question hangs in the air, serving as both a farewell and an attempt to move past the unexpected scene that just unfolded.

“Of course.” Tashi's warm smile washes over the room as she leaves, the redhead trailing behind her with a hint of confusion. The door closes softly behind them, enclosing the scene within the room and leaving behind a silence that echoes with unspoken emotions and lingering heat.

Patrick's exhale fills the room, followed by his movement as he stands up. "I'll take the bathroom," he mentions, discarding his shirt onto the bed before disappearing into the sanctuary of the bathroom.

Art releases a deep breath, his footsteps carrying him to the bed, where he takes a seat. His eyes catch sight of the forgotten pair of lace panties on the floor. He looks towards the closed bathroom door as if subconsciously assessing the surroundings before gently gathering the panties in his hand, his fingers tracing the soft fabric.

Tashi’s girl?

“Wait, I don’t—I’m not wearing any underwear.” She trails behind Tashi, forcing herself to sober up as she comes to terms with what just happened. The emptiness of the corridor seems to amplify the surreal nature of the situation, her mind slowly clearing up as they make their way toward their respective rooms.

The silence between them stretches, leaving her mind racing as she struggles to make sense of Tashi's ambiguous demeanor. Tashi's attitude is adding to the mental turmoil—each second of silence only amplifying her confusion.

"Tashi, is everything okay?" she queries, genuine concern lacing her words as they approach her door.

Tashi turns to face her, her smile simple yet sweet as she leans in to brush a tender kiss against her lips. The taste of their previous encounter lingers on Tashi's lips.

"Goodnight." Tashi whispers as she steps into her room, leaving her alone in the hallway.

She lingers in the hallway, her mind a whirlwind of confusion as she attempts to make sense of Tashi's actions—racing to make sense of the enigma that is Tashi Duncan.

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generalissimomayhem · 1 day

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I had some headcanons for this guy right here that I created for funsies a while ago:

-His whole family is from either Russia or some Eastern European country. They all migrated away when he was younger.

-He was the only one that could speak english when they moved (albeit poorly).

-Asked a teacher to teach him english on his own volition, and eventually passed some english unto the rest of his family.

-He probably also played some instruments during his time in school and highschool. These abilities are probably very rusted already since its been a long time since he played an instrument. If given an instrument, he *might* be able to play something, poorly, but is discernible.

-He initially was a well behaved student in school, then teenagehood kicked in and became an absolute menace. He still kept his good grades and everything but his behavior was just abysmal.

-His also dragged these behaviors outside of school too, he surrounded himself with a lot of bad influences. Eventually coming to his senses and telling those people to fuck off after he was left as a decoy for a petty crime he didn't even commit.

-Got his scar at a bar fight during his college years.

-Met Lois before he got his actual job, he was working in a sort of convenience store.

-Lois just came up to him one day, saying that she really likes him and would like to go out with him, left him her number and just... left??

-Anyways, he shot his shot and ended up accepting her proposal and oh boy that was just a can of worms he openend... Admitedly, he was quite spooked by learning that Lois had been following him around for a while without him noticing. But honestly, while confused, he's glad she did.

-Fast forward and they marry after some years of dating!

-They are not the oldest nor the newest tenants, just right in the middle. which has given them the chance to meet everyone equally.

-And Roman, just like Lois, they have their friends and to-go people in the apartment complex. He seems to be in the bestest terms with The Schmichts, specially Gloria since their jobs are very similar (banker-accountant solidarity ig).

-But as he has people that he likes, there's people that uhhh... not hate, they just ain't his favorites... He seems to feel oddly spooked by Margarette, he feels like threading on eggshells whenever she's involved in something. Its just mishap after mishap when the two of them are in the same room.

-With that being said, he has voiced this discomfort before and no one believes him... nobody. Actually, to the other tenants is a bit humorous, like why is he even scared of her?

-And lastly, his baldness is a bit on the early onset side. (Like to slap his bald head)

#tnmn headcanon #roman stilnsky #thats not my neighbor #that's not my neighbor

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flavored-soda · 15 hours

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i know just how much you love it

Rating: R (explicit 18+) minors DNI

Warnings: Smut, pwp

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: BuckTommy/Tevan/Kinley

Summary: Buck is brat. Plain and simple. So when Buck decides to play dirty when they go out to a bar, Tommy fucks him in the parking lot to remind him of his place.

read on ao3 | as always, heed the tags and warnings |

Evan being a brat was not exactly a new experience for Tommy. In fact, it was becoming a regular thing the more their relationship progressed.

It started with snippy remarks, almost complimenting Tommy’s own dry sense of humor. It quickly moved to teasing touches, working Tommy up just enough before pulling away and acting like nothing happened. Smaller things that the younger knew that Tommy loved, like wearing shorter shorts, walking around the loft or the house shirtless, even licking and biting his lips when he knew Tommy was watching him. When Tommy finally realized what exactly Evan was after, he sat him down and forced him to use his words, making the younger describe in detail what exactly he wanted and how he wanted it.

Tommy considered it his own form of teasing, watching Evan squirm while he spoke about his dirtiest fantasies and desires. Encouraging him to keep talking as Tommy listened intently, taking ideas and suggestions to save for later. The more he heard the more he found that he and Evan had quite a few things when it came to those fantasies and desires.

Though, ever since that conversation, Evan seemed to be making it his personal goal just how much bratting he could get away with.

And don’t get him wrong, Tommy loved that his boyfriend was opening up more and really getting settled into this dynamic part of the relationship. But it was moments like these that were really starting to drive him up a fucking wall.

It’s not that he was jealous. He wouldn’t call himself jealous. Or possessive. For the most part, Tommy doesn’t get jealous. He knows that Evan is it for him and he is it for Evan. The most “jealous” that Tommy has ever gotten is when Evan is trying to elicit a reaction from the older man, so Tommy gives it to him, but it’s all just acting. He’s never actually jealous. It’s all just build up for some rough and hot sex. And Tommy has never once felt that jealousy or possessiveness because Evan has never given him a reason too. The blonde always comes home to him with a smile on his face and that's all Tommy can ask for, all that he really needs.

But now? Oh, right now, Tommy is feeling more than a little bit jealous.

Now, he wants nothing more than to saunter up to his boyfriend, wrap an arm around his waist, and pull him close to his body with a shit-eating grin on his face. Now, he wants to go over there and kiss him hard, pull away with the younger’s bottom lip still between his teeth, hear him whimper like he always does when he wants more. Fuck, he wants to bend him over a table and fuck him for the whole bar to watch, laughing as he does it because he knows only he can make Evan feel that damn good.

It’s a new and terrifying thing that only seems to fester the more he watches his boyfriend. It only starts to truly burn and bubble under his skin when Evan moves the smallest bit forward.

The younger man is currently laughing, leaning into some guy’s space as he opens his mouth to speak again. Evan is putting in the work, batting his eyelashes, throwing his head back when he laughs, and giving that dorky, dopey smile when he finishes it all only to start it back up again. The guy is inviting Evan to lean in, asking him to move in closer. He moves his arms to the table next to where Evan’s are resting, caging him in but not touching him.

God, Tommy hopes he touches him.

He’s basically begging for it with the ways he’s watching the two of them. He probably looks like a madman to the bartender, hell, probably to anyone in his eye line. He feels like a predator, watching his unassuming prey play before he strikes. Only, Evan knows that he’s watching, knows that Tommy is staring, hoping, wishing, waiting for this other guy to make a move on him. And it’s driving Tommy so insane he can almost taste it.

He wants that excuse, that reason to pounce over there and stake his claim. He wants to snake his arm around his big, buff boyfriend’s waist, pull him into his side so fast and hard that he jostles, showing off his strength and force. And it wouldn’t even be a show for this guy.

It wouldn’t be a display of jealousy, of dominance, no, it would be a show he’s putting on for Evan. A little part in this game they’re playing. Because the thing is, Tommy doesn’t blame Evan. The guy he’s flirting with is handsome. He’s got longer hair, it reaches his shoulders but it’s neat and styled, and the outfit he’s wearing shows off just enough that it could leave anyone wanting to know more. Tommy sees the appeal, he really does, but Evan is prettier, more appealing.

Evan is the one he’s watching.

The one he can’t take his eyes off of.

He’s the one that’s got Tommy craving more.

Evan shifts to lean in further across the table. Tommy’s fingers flex around his drink. He can feel his teeth grinding together in anticipation. From here, Tommy can’t see Evan’s eyes but he swears that he flicks them down in a quick glance to the other guy’s lips. The guy leans in closer, stops for a second before angling his head to say something into Evan’s ear. But he still doesn’t touch him.

There’s that bubbling under his skin. He can feel himself twitch involuntarily. Tommy feels like he’s going to explode. He’s half tempted to go over there without any kind of signal from Evan. It’s against the rules, disrupts the plan, but he really doesn’t care right now. He’s less concerned with scripts that they had written in their heads and more concerned with how he can get his hands and mouth on his boyfriend. Against his better judgment, he stays put and starts bouncing his leg in order to help him calm down.

Evan pulls back cocking his head before letting something slip past those pretty, perfect lips. The guy smirks and one of his arms moves up, his hand lands on Evan’s bicep and Tommy is up.

He’s not sure what happens after that. One moment, he’s sitting at the bar, staring holes into his boyfriend’s head and the next he’s right behind, wrapping his arm around waist and tugging him back against him. Evan goes willingly, leaning back to rest his head against Tommy’s shoulder. The entire expanse of his neck is on display and Tommy’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, never taking his eyes off of it.

“Hi, baby.” He says.

Evan is looking at the guy through his lashes, one hand on his beer and one on the arm around his middle. He’s rocking slightly, sinking further and further into Tommy and the older man just lets him. He widens his stance ever-so-slightly, careful not to disturb the blonde as he takes more of his weight.

“Hi.” He responds, flicking his eyes up to Tommy for a moment before looking back at the guy he was flirting with.

“Who’s this?” His eyes are still on Evan, watching his boyfriend’s throat bob as he swallows.

“Myles.”

“Mason.” The guy, Mason, corrects with a scoff.

Neither Tommy or Evan are really paying attention to him. He served his purpose with them. Evan falling back in Tommy’s thrall and Tommy enjoying the process of reeling him back in.

Evan’s eyes go back to gaze into Tommy’s and Tommy drags his own eyes up his boyfriend’s body to meet him there. Once they lock onto each other, they stay there. Tommy sees Evan’s lips part and his tongue out to wet his lips from his peripheral and it takes everything in him to not take his eyes off Evan’s.

This is the second part of the game. The part where they see who breaks first. It’s usually always Tommy. He’s so worked up at this point that he has no choice but to give into his desires. Licking his way into his boyfriend’s mouth, his tongue exploring inch and crevice like it hasn’t before. He’ll swallow down Evan’s moans and whimpers before pulling away with a smirk. Evan’s eyes will still be closed, lips still parted, and he’ll pull his bottom lip in between his teeth before rolling off Tommy’s shoulder. He’ll look up to fix him, hands either on his shoulders or hips, still swaying. When he opens his eyes more, they’ll focus straight on Tommy’s lips and Tommy will push in until he’s almost eating the younger man whole. He’ll push Evan into the table, they’ll feel it rock slightly and Evan will reach his hand back to steady it and himself. When they pull away, Tommy will suggest they go home and Evan will gladly follow.

But tonight, Evan pushed in, wasting no time in licking his way into the older man’s mouth with a fever. He twists himself in Tommy’s hold, changing the angle so he’s face to face with his boyfriend. He grabs onto the lapels on Tommy’s shirt and pulls him closer. One of Tommy’s hands moves to steady himself on the table and the other goes up Evan’s back, snaking it into his hair. He digs his fingers in right above the base of the blonde’s neck before giving a sharp tug.

Evan gives a whimper as Tommy holds his head back. Tommy smirks, using his grip to maneuver Evan’s head around. The younger sinks into it, his grip on Tommy’s shirt slipping away to steady himself back on the table.

“Tommy, please.” He gasps out.

Tommy looks down at him, admiring his work.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Another rule, make Evan admit to what he wants.

He rolls the younger’s head around a few more times. His other hand has moved away from the table and onto his boyfriend’s hips. He’s holding Evan’s hips close to his, firm in making sure they stay where he wants them.

“Please, please…” Evan swallows, “Please, Daddy.”

Oh, this little shit. He thinks before pulling him into a searing kiss.

Evan can barely keep up. It ends up being more of Tommy shoving his way into Evan’s mouth, licking, biting, and sucking. He lets out little whimpers and moans that only egg the older man on. He’s swallowing them all down, careful not to miss a single one. If he focuses on them he swears he can taste them, all sweet and tart, just like his boyfriend.

Evan is pushing against him, using the table as leverage, attempting to move his hips in a circle. If Tommy looks down he’s sure he’ll see the beginning of a small wet patch forming on the blonde’s pants. The thought of just how wet his boyfriend gets driving him further into this madness he’s been fading in and out of all night.

He pulls away with Evan’s bottom lip still between his teeth. His eyes open to see Evan’s rolled back into his head. He gives a small tug, sinking his teeth further into Evan’s lip. The younger lets out another whimper before Tommy drags his teeth off with a pop. He looks down at his handy work. Evan’s eyes still rolled back, a blush high on cheek, and his bottom lip now swollen and bright red. He smirks to himself as Evan’s eyes come back to meet Tommy’s.

“Say it again, baby.” He whispers.

Evan moans again.

“Please, Daddy.” He says in a rushed and hushed voice.

Tommy smirks again.

“Please, what?” He punctuates the question with another sharp tug on Evan’s hair.

It takes the younger a second to collect himself. His eyes rolled back again when Tommy gave another tug to his hair and he ran his tongue over the inside of his bottom lip softly. Tommy wondered if he was bleeding a little bit. He wanted to know if he could taste the metallic twang of blood if he pushed in for another kiss. He wanted to lick into his mouth, gathering up the new taste of Evan and Evan’s blood. But he restrained himself, waited for Evan to answer before he gave him any kind of reward.

“Fuck me. Fuck me, please, Daddy.”

Fuck, this kid was going to be the death of him.

He pulled away, his hand slipping from Evan’s hair and the younger man whimpering in response to the loss. It trailed down to Evan’s hip, using the new found grip to move his boyfriend where he needed him. He spun him around, pushing him gently to get him to move. He watched the faces of the people they pushed past, drinking in their reaction to just how wrecked Evan was and how he was the one that was responsible. He knew Evan was reveling in all the attention. The looks on everyone’s face as Tommy staked his claim, he loved it like the attention whore he was.

“Look at them, baby. All looking at you, saving this image of you in their minds. You’re like porn on a stick.” He watched Evan’s shoulder jump as he gasped, no doubt letting out another little whimper.

They pushed their way to the doors, Tommy starting to guide him to the car before Evan pushed back hard. He turned, walking the older man back into the wall of the bar. The younger’s hands were fisted in Tommy’s shirt again. He was using the grip to keep his boyfriend caged against him and the wall. Tommy’s hands never leaving Evan’s hips. He could feel the brick of the wall starting to lift his shirt as the younger man pinned him further against the wall. He was pushing into the kiss Evan had initiated, fighting for dominance.

“Do it here.” He whispered into the kiss.

Tommy didn't have a chance to respond with kiss after kiss pushing him further into the wall. His lips being assaulted with those of his boyfriend’s. He licked into Evan’s mouth, using his tongue to pull Evan’s lip into his mouth once again. The younger eased his grip, the move never failing to turn him to jelly. Tommy took the opportunity to take back control.

His hands on Evan’s hips gripped tight and pushed back, effectively pushing himself off the wall. He gripped onto Evan’s forearm, pulling him in for one more rough kiss before starting to walk towards the truck. Evan stumbled along after him, giving up on the attempts to take over.

They parked towards the back of the parking lot in case they had to leave the truck here overnight. Tommy’s hand slipped from Evan’s forearm to his hand, interlocking their fingers as he pushed towards the vehicle.

He shoved his hand into his jean pocket, reaching in to grab his keys. He fumbled them in one hand, almost dropping them as he dragged his boyfriend along. He saw the tail lights light up and it only fueled the fire under his feet. When he felt he was close enough he turned to face the blonde, grabbing onto his biceps and slamming him against the back of the truck. Evan let out a shocked gasp and then they were kissing again.

The older man’s hands went back to their place on Evan’s hips. The hold he had on them would surely force a mold of Tommy’s hands into the skin, a permanent resting place for his hands and only his hands. A type of claim he could only dream of staking on his boyfriend.

He let his fingers pull Evan’s shirt up just enough for him to sneak his fingers underneath it. His fingertips ghosted over his lower waist and hips as he worked his thumbs under the waistband of his jeans and boxers. He rubbed a pattern into the skin, pressing harder so there was a potential there would be small bruises for the next couple of days. Evan squirmed under his touch, pushing back against Tommy. He caught the hint and pulled back, giving Evan a chance to breathe.

“Just…do it here.” The younger huffed out again before going to push in.

Tommy stopped him, finally registering what he was saying. He turned his gaze to Evan’s face, looking for any sign of hesitancy. He smirked when he found none.

He pulled Evan into him, taking one hand off of one of the younger’s hips, going to fiddle with his keys again. He heard the little click of his truck unlocking, he pushed Evan back again, sticking out the hand with his keys to catch the latch on his truck bed. He pulled it down, pushing his boyfriend with him as he maneuvered around. He pushed Evan pack into the truck once more, his grip on the blonde’s hips turning into a soft touch. He smiled down at his lover once more before turning his handle on him back to rough and pressing in for another harsh kiss. He pulled away with Evan’s lip in between his teeth again. He smirked and only let go when Evan let out a whimper.

“Yeah, baby? You want me to fuck you right here?” He leaned closer, ghosting his lips over Evan’s neck. “In the bed of my truck, where anyone who leaves that bar can see you?”

“Fuck, yes, please.”

Tommy loosened his grip just a tiny bit, pulled back just enough to glance up at his boyfriend.

“Just please, baby?”

Evan whimpered again.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me right here. Please, please, please…” He trailed off in a sea of begging.

Tommy smirked again. He loved having this initiate power of his lover. He loved that he could turn him into a blubbering mess with a few choice words and touches. It sent a certain kind of rush through him every time he realized just how much he had an effect on Evan. The rush would hit him again every time he realized that Evan had that same effect on him and he knew it too. All the little switches and buttons that Tommy had discovered for Evan, the younger also discovered for Tommy. The result was moments like these where Tommy was pulling out every trick in the book to keep Evan a begging slut while Evan put it on thick, using every little thing that Tommy loved about him for evil.

Tommy had pressed them together as soon as the tailgate was down. Evan was now using what leverage the truck gave him to grind into Tommy, pressing their clothed cocks together. Tommy let out a groan at the new sensation, pulling away from his assault on his boyfriend’s lips so he could look down at the sight. Sure enough, there was a wet spot on Evan’s jeans that was only growing by the minute.

“Look at you, baby. Making us feel so good.” He breathed in Evan’s ear.

He moved his former assault to Evan’s neck, careful not to leave any hickeys (at least above the collar of his shirt). He gave soft kisses and light suckles, licking long stripes up the expanse of his boyfriend’s neck before blowing on them gently and watching the younger squirm beneath the sensation.

“Tommy, please.”

“What, baby? What can Daddy do for you, huh?” He whispered again, watching a jolt go through Evan’s body at the words.

“I need you to fuck me.” His voice was quiet and hoarse as he spoke softly, if they were home Tommy would make sure it stayed that way into tomorrow.

“Speak up, sweetie.” He said a little louder than a normal volume.

“Fuck me.” Evan’s hands went to Tommy’s hips, set on his zipper.

Tommy grabbed him before he could get much further. He held both of Evan’s wrist in a tight grip in one hand and leaned to place his other on the truck bed, caging his lover in.

“Is that how we ask for things?”

Evan shook his head in response.

“No, it’s not. That’s good, love. So, do you want to try that again?”

Evan nodded.

“Good.” Tommy leaned back. “What can Daddy do for you, baby?”

“Fuck me, please, Daddy, please.”

Tommy gave him a soft smile.

He moved a hand to grope at Evan’s back pocket, smiling when he felt his wallet in there and reaching in to grab it. He opened it to find the condom and packet of lube that Evan always carried with him. He held the two between his fingers as he yanked Evan’s pants down without a second thought. Then he flipped him around, laying a hand between his shoulder blades to push him down against the truck bed. Evan whimpered and squirmed as the coldness of the vehicle came in contact with his bare skin.

Tommy used his hips to pin Evan’s to his spot, pushing his hips, and therefore his cock, further against the exterior of the vehicle. He gasped and let out a moan in response. Tommy opened the lube packet, squirting some onto his fingers before he slipped them between his boyfriend’s cheeks. He circled the rim of Evan’s entrance and watched him as he squirmed some more. Little “please, Daddy, please’s” were spilling from his lips. He was speaking at a normal volume, just loud enough for certain words to almost echo off the truck and the cars around it.

He pushed in with two fingers, immediately crooking them and exploring his boyfriend’s hole. He wasn’t too worried about the prep, Evan was always prepped for scenes like this. He was such a good little slut, Tommy would have to reward him later for the preparedness so far.

The younger was currently a writhing mess under his boyfriend, thrusting and grinding into the truck bed to get some action on his cock. As soon as Tommy saw it he grabbed one of his hips in a firm grip.

“You know the rules, Evan.” He said as he worked his fingers further into his lover.

“S-Sorry, Dadd-” He was cut off with a moan as Tommy pressed into the wonderful little bundle of nerves.

It wasn’t long before he was drilling into that spot, over and over again. Evan was a mess below him, splayed out against the truck bed begging Tommy for more. He had gotten three fingers worked into him, nice and slow, with all the focus on his prostate but never for long enough. Tommy let out an evil little chuckle when Evan whined at the loss of the fingers.

“I know, baby. I got you.”

He took the condom hold of the package with his teeth, holding it there while he rolled it on his length and applied the rest of the lube. He spread Evan’s ass open and thumbed over his hole.

“Tommy…Daddy…please…” That was all Tommy needed for him to slip in.

He opted to sink in all in one go, having fucked his slut earlier in the day and know he could take it. The reaction from Evan was something Tommy wanted to play on repeat every chance he could. He took a sharp breath in before exhaling it in shaking, breathy moans. His head was turned to the side and from this angle, Tommy could see his eyes flutter close. He found his grip on the younger’s hips again and slowly held Evan in place while he slowly pulled out. He waited for a little wiggle of the blonde’s hips before he slammed back in. He was setting the pace that Evan liked, slower and harder.

Evan’s little noises were bouncing off the truck bed and across the very few cars around them. He only got louder when Tommy would pick up his speed, drilling into his boyfriend. The older man smirked to himself. He was so lucky to have this beautiful specimen of a man as his. The way he looked and sounded while Tommy was fucking his brains was his new favorite song. He changed his hold on Evan’s hips, shifting and lifting until his boyfriend clenched down on him.

“Fuck, yeah, Evan? Does my cock feel good fucking into you?” He groaned out, letting his composure and character crack a bit.

“Uh-huh” The younger one did his best to nod with his head against the truck. Tommy swore he could see some drool escaping his mouth.

He continued to fuck into his lover at a rapid pace. He aimed for Evan’s prostate every time and was pretty damn accurate based on the noises being made. He took a second to take in the sight in front of him. Evan was splayed out on the truck bed, arms relaxed near his head, letting himself be pushed further up the bed with every thrust. He was letting little moans and gasps escape his lips, occasionally trying to form a word and losing it when Tommy would thrust back in. It was only fueling Tommy’s own desire. The thought that he could reduce this beefcake of a man down to a whimpering, moaning mess, begging him to come was like a wet dream come true.

Evan started to sloppily try to move back to meet Tommy’s thrust, the harsh grip the older man had on his hips starting to guide him into it. Tommy couldn’t wait to see those bruises tomorrow. He loved when there was evidence of his handy work. It was like he was giving himself a guide for next time, leaving little breadcrumbs to remind himself just exactly how he made his boyfriend tick.

“Close.” Evan stuttered out through moans and gasps.

Tommy took that as permission to adjust the younger’s hips again. He lifted him slightly, adjusting his own angle before pulling out only to slam back in again. The older man opted for short and quick thrusts, focusing on hitting that little bundle of nerves inside the younger. Evan had gone silent, mouth hanging open and eyes half-lidded as Tommy worked him towards an orgasm.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” Tommy said, never letting up on his assault on Evan’s prostate.

The blonde moaned and Tommy smirked. This was his favorite part, bringing Evan right to the edge only to pull it all away until he could form enough words to ask if he could cum. It almost always ended in Tommy walking that edge with him, but he wouldn’t allow either of them to cum until Evan asked. It was another rule, another part of their little game.

Fuck, he could feel Evan clenching around him. He wasn’t going to last much longer, himself.

“Come on, love.”

Evan took the hint, squirming underneath and trying to get his lips to move. He would get about half way through his question before it would get lost in a sea of moans. Tommy could see how close he was, how hard he was trying to be a good boy and wait until he got permission. The arm that had moved off the bed so he could fuck into his fist had stopped moving and Tommy knew it was so the blonde could squeeze the base of his cock. Evan was never very good at holding off his climax on his own, and god dammit, if he wasn’t going to pack one of Evan’s cock rings next time.

“Tommy, please.”

“Use your words, Evan.” He gave a particularly harsh thrust, but ultimately slowed his pace. “Please, what?”

“Can I come?” The last word was broken off with a sharp intake of breath. “Daddy, please.”

That was all he needed. He picked his pace back up, less concerned with getting Evan to reach his release and more concerned with reaching his own. He saw Evan’s arm start to move again, the permission was all he needed to chase after his own orgasm. The result was both of them getting sloppy in their movements.

Evan came first. He gave a loud moan that was quickly cut off when Tommy gave one of the last few of his thrusts.

Tommy wasn’t far behind him, his hips stalling as he spilled into the condom.

“Fuck, Evan.” He groaned out through gritted teeth as he did.

The two stayed there for a minute, catching their breaths and coming down from their respective highs. Evan wiggled again, the silent cue that he was ready for them to move. Tommy slowly began to pull out, detaching from one another with an obscene pop. The blonde whimpered at the loss.

Tommy took one hand off the younger man’s hips, placing it on the edge of the truck bed. He used his other hand to help turn his boyfriend over. Evan helped a little by pushing himself up and into his boyfriend. He made a kissy face and the older man smiled before leaning in. This kiss being the least heated and softest of the night so far.

“Hi, baby.” He murmured against Evan’s lips.

The younger one smiled and let out a laugh.

“Hi.”

They leaned in for another and another and just one more before Tommy pulled further back and decided it was time to clean up. He took off the condom, tying it and throwing it into his truck bed to clean out later. Then he put himself back into his own underwear and jeans just before shoving a hand into his front pocket to fish out a couple of tissues and a wet wipe. He used both to clean up his boyfriend, tossing them into the truck bed when he was finished, and then helping Evan into his own pants.

Once they were situated Tommy placed both his hands on Evan’s hips for the last time. He used the leverage to pull the blonde closer to him and off the truck bed so he could shut the tailgate. Evan took the opportunity to steal a couple more kisses. Tommy smiled into every single one of them. He was so gone for this man.

He walked them backwards towards the passenger side, opening the door for the younger and helping him in. Evan, once again, using every chance he could to steal another kiss from Tommy’s lips. The older man happily obliged before letting go of the younger’s hand and shutting the door.

He heard a noise as he walked back around to the driver's side. He looked towards the bar entrance to see Myles? Michael? Whatever his name was exiting the bar in a similar fashion to Evan and Tommy earlier. He smirked to himself, letting out a chuckle before going back to his truck so he could take his boyfriend home.

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sunflower-lilac42 · 9 hours

Text

𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 | 𝘤𝘣98 ♔

➪ summary: after not getting another hat trick once again, connor begins to think he's not as good as people expect him to be.

➪ warnings: sad connor, connor not thinking he's good enough

➪ word count: 1.7k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: um, i don't remember exactly when this is supposed to take place but i know i wrote it after one of the games one night so. but i was reading this again and i completely forgot about how much i loved this one :)

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He knew he shouldn’t be upset. He played so well, got a three-point game tonight, but at the same time, this was his fourth time having a two-goal game and every time he came up short. It was hard to be the face of the franchise or to at least feel like it. He was supposed to be the savior of the Blackhawks, their golden boy, and lift them back up. How much pressure could you put on an 18-year-old?

He watched as Colin hit the puck into the empty net, the slightest bit of jealousy going through his eyes. He was telling himself not to think about it, the thought of him getting a hat trick shouldn’t have been a thought, he should be playing to win not to get his hat trick. But, the thought haunted him in the back of his mind, three failed attempts and he had to show everyone what he was capable of.

Though, as the final minute ticked down and he had been on the ice he knew his chances were nonexistent. He knew he wouldn’t be getting an opportunity to get that goal. He was proud of Colin and always proud of his teammates, but how happy could he be for others if he wasn’t happy with himself?

She was watching from her dorm room, her hands gripped tightly onto the arms of her chair as she kept her eyes glued to the TV screen. She knew they had a chance of winning this game, they beat them 5-2 just a few days ago so why couldn’t they now? Despite the Coyotes having two goals a couple of minutes into the second period, she kept her hopes up. When Connor scored not only once but twice before the end of the period she was elated.

She kept her prayers in her mind as she watched the last 20 minutes of the game, hoping that he would get his first career hat trick alongside Colin. He needed this so much, especially after the few games he had had. He needed to be reminded of how good he was and how the outcome of the game shouldn’t be reliant on him.

However, as soon as the clock ran out and it was game over, she felt horrible. She could see it in his face as he skated out as second star of the game. He deserved to and Colin deserved the first. But she knew he was taking it harder on himself.

She was kept updated on post-game through post-game live and the tweets she was getting. Her heart broke once she saw the one Mario tweeted, “If I was any good I would have put it in.”

She swore to himself, immediately going to make him some food and laying out some clothes for him to wear when he arrived. He was using humor to cover up how he felt, it was a defense mechanism that he used so often with not only the public but with her. She couldn’t count the number of times they were in the middle of a fight or he had come home after a game or the days that he would come back after practice after he got hurt and throw a sarcastic comment or start laughing.

She sent him a quick text, telling him she would be waiting for him when he returned. She made sure things looked perfect in the sense that it didn’t look planned and everything was meticulously placed. The clothes she picked out were thrown in the bathroom and so was his towel, she made her dorm look a little more messy than she would like it but still clean.

When she heard the door unlock, she didn’t make a move from her room. She lived in one of the apartments with a couple of her friends. She didn’t complain when the older students took her in, just going with the flow. She heard footsteps come up the stairs and a quiet but prominent knock on her door and then the door clicked open. She looked up and smiled, placing her laptop to the side of her and getting up from the bed.

She walked over to him and opened her arms, allowing him to walk into them as he dropped his bag and let his head fall to her shoulder. She placed her left hand on the back of his head and her right hand wrapped around his torso. Her fingers scratched the base of his hair, slightly combing through his hair that he had grown out and the fingers on her right hand rubbed circles against his back. It was silent besides the soft sighs of Connor both from the long night and from the motions she was doing.

He turned his head so his nose was now stuck in the crook of her neck before leaving small kisses there. She smiled a little as he did it, knowing that he was slowly going back to his usual ways. He pulled away soon after and rested his forehead on hers before she spoke, “You wanna go take a shower?”

He only nodded and made his way to the bathroom. She went back downstairs to finish up dinner, reheating a few things and then bringing them back up. She set the plates on her desk and crawled into her bed and tried to find something to watch that they would both like. She decided on A New Hope, it was the first thing that popped up when she went onto Disney,

Connor came in around a couple of minutes later and laid eyes on her as soon as he entered. This was one of his favorite things about coming to Chicago, was the fact that she came with him. The fact that her celebrating after a win still happened, the fact that she comforted him after a loss still happened, the fact that she still gave him silly little gifts every once in a while. It was the best feeling in the world.

He threw his clothes to the side, not particularly caring where they landed. He pulled himself up onto her bed and curled into her side, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning his head into her shoulder. She smiled down at him, lifting her free arm to run her fingers through his hair. The motion made him close his eyes and sigh, becoming more and more tired.

“You gotta eat, baby.”

He only shook his head in response. He didn’t feel like eating nor did he think he deserved to have one of her meals after the performance he had tonight. Her smile turned into a frown and turned her attention to the TV as her hand slowly came to a halt, still tangled in his hair. When her actions stopped, Connor pulled away and looked up at her, “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were dazed, “What? Yeah, why?”

“Because you became quiet all of a sudden.”

“I- you know how proud of you I am right?”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Where is this coming from, y/n/n?”

“I know you Connor, you always want to be the best. You always want to do everything you can. You always want to take the burden of not doing enough, take the burden of the loss.”

Connor looked ashamed, he wasn’t expecting this to happen tonight. He felt like he was being scolded by his mom at that moment. He looked up at her with his eyes but kept his head down. There was another beat of silence before y/n spoke again, “You’re eighteen. This franchise, this team, should not be putting this much pressure on you because everyone thinks you’re the next Wayne Gretzky. You should be allowed to be a kid, baby.”

He always knew how much he was grateful for y/n, she had been there with him through everything. But it was these moments that he was most grateful for, these moments that reminded him more than any others. The moments in which she made him feel like himself again, the ones where she reminded him that he was allowed to be a kid, that he doesn’t have to have all this pressure on him.

Without saying anything, he buried his head back into her chest as he practically clung onto her like she would disappear at any moment. This time he allowed his tears to fall and they dampened her, his shirt. Her fingers resumed their motion, running through his hair. She didn’t know what to say anymore and truthfully Connor didn’t want her to say anything. He just wanted to be held by her and listen to whatever she had put on in the background.

After a few minutes, she pulled away to cusp his face in her hands, “Food’s getting cold sweetheart. You gotta eat.”

As much as he didn’t want to, he reluctantly nodded and allowed her to get up to reheat the food that had gone cold. When she came back Connor looked more like himself, he was sitting upright on the bed, his clothes were straightened out, his hair was flattened, and his face and eyes were rid of any evidence of tiredness and previous crying that he had done.

She gave him a soft smile before placing the plate in his lap and plopping herself down on the bed, “What do you want to watch?”

“I don’t care.”

She glared at him playfully, “Dude, I can never pick a movie you know this.”

“Do not call me dude.”

She could tell that her efforts to make Connor feel better were working, the smile that she loved ever so dearly was on his face and his eyes were lit up in the way that they did when he talked about hockey. She stretched her arm out and poked his stomach, “And why is that?”

“Because I am your boyfriend and you always call me baby or sweetheart.”

“Someone’s picky.” She turned away to face the TV and continued to look for something to watch.

Connor discarded his plate onto her desk and pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist. She let out a loud laugh and looked at him, “I love you.”

Connor smiled and kissed her forehead and then her lips. “I love you too. Thank you for being here.”

⬂ 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗴𝗼 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗸𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

#sunny lune writes #nhl #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #connor bedard #connor bedard x reader #cb98

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lover-of-mine · 1 day

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i'm fine with the bt scene being what it was because it showed what is. a shallow superficial relationship that is not being written as endgame so I'm fine with them not having a more emotional connection make it more obvious its BONES in s8.

Okay, I'm gonna say this and I need everyone to know I genuinely mean it, I'm not fine with it. I am tired of the show giving Buck and Eddie love interests that exist to have no agency besides girlfriend/boyfriend or plot device for an exposition dump. I desperately wanted to care about bt. Buck being bi is such incredible representation and I spent the whole season waiting to be convinced I should like T and bt together for anything beyond the fact that they are a queer relationship but I keep coming up empty-handed. I like being a hater right now because no criticism of him is allowed without someone screaming that you're homophobic or hate gay people and that everyone in the show is problematic why doesn't he get a pass too so I am grabbing on to every wrong thing about him the same way people are blowing the good things to justify my aversion to him. But the thing is, T is a character who's being written in a way that is so hard to sympathize with when it comes to Buck. He has this shell that makes him rigid and he has this dry sense of humor and he could be interesting if he was willing to bend a little bit for Buck. That relationship was not something I could get behind when T left Buck on the curb, because while I do believe T was incredibly justified in not liking the situation Buck put them in, he could've communicated that better before he was literally in the car leaving Buck behind, so there Buck was once again in a relationship with someone who left him because they can't handle who he is. That was the impression I got from that first date and I keep waiting for them to be cute for me to move past it and the show is giving me nothing. Why did they make the choice to not let T dress up for the bachelor party and indulge Buck when the job by definition requires for him to change into a uniform so he could've put in some effort? Why did he let Buck walk around with his face covered in soot when they could've shown us a shot of him cleaning Buck's face before they walked into the room holding hands and give the impression that there's more going on there than a few makeout sessions? Why weren't they affectionate at the ceremony? Why wasn't that conversation in the hospital, where it would've shown a level of care and that joke could've been seen as an attempt to make Buck feel better about what was going on? Why are they always two steps to the left of being cute or having any fighting chance? And that's ignoring how intertwined Eddie is with the beginning of their relationship because that's just disturbing. The triangle thing is annoying as fuck if Eddie was not gonna get confirmed as queer and the sides wouldn't actually connect.

I think narratively Buck and Eddie getting together is the thing that makes the most sense for both of their characters, but if that's not gonna happen, I wanna care about the people they're with. I love Buck as a character, I want him to have a nice love story if for whatever reason we are not getting buddie because love is the thing he's been searching for, and whatever bt has going is not it. And the thing that's killing me is that it could be. It's the same thing they did with Taylor because if Taylor was as intense about Buck as she is about the job, they could work, but the show made a choice to use the development of her character to stir away from Buck. And T, he's just there. And it's frustrating. I don't even wanna get into the comparisons between buddie and bt because imma be honest I'm still processing the way the show had T refusing to dress on theme and then had Eddie suggest matching outfits in the next scene, what even was that?? But the way the show constantly takes the chances they have to give depth to their relationship, looks it in the eye, and runs the other direction it's just........... yk? This is Buck's fifth relationship and I can't for the life of me look at it and see where it's going because they are making it seem like it's going nowhere. T parallels Taylor all the time visually, when it comes to screentime he's just a step above Ali, he's nowhere near as developed as Taylor was at this point. I had hopes for that scene when they started to talk about parents, for 20 seconds, I believed they were gonna give emotional depth to them, but they didn't. And I was literally sitting here begging them to give me something to care about when it comes to them if they are gonna keep them together but I have nothing to show for it and I hate it. There's no emotional connection, they will probably breakup at some point during s8 and I'm just gonna be there "oh wow another failed romance what a surprise" while they keep playing up Buck and Eddie's partnership and not letting them go all the way, and it's just tiring.

And this is ignoring the way we keep getting yelled at for not resonating with them. I sincerely don't want to hate them but I can't find a reason to care about them.

#sorry i went off #this is not what you wanted but i have feelings apparently #didn't know i had them until i started to type oaksasoaksa #911 #911 spoilers #anti bucktommy #to be safe #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

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babyjapril · 2 days

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Just wondering, what‘s your favorite quality about Japril together and as individuals? :)

Hiiiii! First I'm sorry for taking some time to reply, I wanted to sit down to answer, and not through my phone, also since this is an opportunity to talk about my blorbos, even though i'm bad at talking about why i love my faves, it still got a bit long, sorry <3

With April there are two qualities that I think about right away when I think about her so I maybe those are my favorites, even though there are more that I love about her. So the first two I think about when I think about her are how kind/considerate she is and also her competitiveness lol. I feel like she's actually too kind to some people, like Alex, who treated her terribly, but with that I also love seeing her standing up for herself and becoming more confident

I love how organized she is and it's cute how in the earlier seasons she was always taking pictures with her camera, I just know she'd make the best scrapbooks. And that she's a trauma surgeon, she def became a doctor bc she wanted to help people but she's a bit of an adrenaline junkie with trauma surgenry!! Also I'm always here for weird loser girls <3

(and not a quality of hers but the way in the beginning the show wanted to convice me to hate her bc she's "annoying" and then in general her being hated in the fandom makes me love here even more, idk I feel like Sarah just makes April loveable even when she's supposed to be annoying)

Jackson, I love that he's actually kind of a dork. Like "making medicine cool" and the fact that he has a lucky pencil. I loooove his sense of humor and I love how he treats his patients, his patients are some of my favorites (also love both his and Marks approach to plastics) .He works well under pressure, and he's a quick thinker, he was a hero in season 6 finale, oh but then again I can't forget saving a child from an exploding bus in season 9 finale. And you know he's just a good guy

And them together, well first I just looooooove friends to lovers trope but especially when it's done a certain way. Like especially when we can see the characters be friends, true friends first, and then they accidentally discover there's a spark. And when that kind of ship has chemistry I'm sold!! Japrils chemistry is just unmatched imo.

I love how they're different from each other, but they complement each other soo well. Jackson is the one person who always calms April down, and Mr Grumpus is always so smiley around her and his silly side comes out. They also have the same values even though they have different beliefs, Jackson said it himself at the end of season 10 so idk why the writers went back to "nooo they would't work together bc faith". Jackson was I feel like the first mercy wester the grey sloan residents liked and he is a likeable guy, he could make friends anywhere, meanwhile even when April is friends with majac there's a lonliness to her of a girl who's kinda in the friend group bt kinda isn't, but they both have each other, like even though Jackson could make friends anywhere April is his closest friend, and Jackson is a great best friend to April, that's another thing I like about them. Plus how protective Jackson was of April since the start of season 7, dragging her away from the residents that were staring at them, punching Alex. And I think there are some parallels, even though they're soo different and they grew up so differently, they both didn't fit in with their families .

Also I'm obsessed with how touchy they are, even when they're just friends they're always touching, they're just sooo comfortable with each other <3

(screencaps show another one of their qualities, they're sooo pretty both individually and together dhfhfd)

#ask #anonymous #long post #japril

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 3 days

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32nd typing...

Sorry to ask this again but, what I meant before is, how does Mori feel about the way he was portrayed in comparison to his original?

(srry, I should've been more clear with this before.)

Oh, I see. It's okay, I am always happy to answer questions.

In this AU Mori really didn't like, how he was portrayed. He felt equally offended, disgusted and horrified. And a little bit confused.

As long as he remembers, he doesn't have "taste" from the original source material. However, he can see all this "jokes" and implications. He doesn't understand, why he is different from 'cannon'.

Still, if he had the chance, he will ask questions to Kafka. /Almost everyone from BSD Cast want to have a talk with Kafka. Nothing bad will happen to Kafka, but he will have to listen to 'critic' from his own characters.

And a bit of lore.

______

Why Mori is different from his portrayal in the original manga.

_____

Kafka's portrayal of Mori 'clashed' with his knowledge about prototype. Because, "clashed" information have major differences and has no way to coexist.

RL! Mori was a good father, husband (no one of his partners can say a single bad word about him) and even was a godfather of RL! Yosano's children. BSD! Mori's "manga portrayal" can't fully coexist with that information.

So, BSD!Mori "absorbed" info from RL!Mori, and not from "Kafka's ideas". However, BSD!Mori has a darkish sense of humor.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau

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britishchick09 · 2 years

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rewrite erik isn’t like most phantoms. he’s a gentle, awkward soul who would never hurt anyone. he’s even purer than cherik!

but then... the red death scene

OH BOY THE RED DEATH SCENE

as his new persona, erik talks in a sophisticated, slightly menacing voice, moving down the stairs with cold elegance, his presence striking fear in all who see him... and all will comply to his desires, lest they wish for death.

this is the erik everyone loves. no longer is he a gawky stringbean who makes carrot spaghetti soup and forgets what a bathroom is. no longer is he a sarah bernhardt stan or a demiboy who longs to be a woman or even a fab opera ghost!

he’s the phantom of the opera

#i just finished the red death scene and oh boy is it something else!#it didn't feel like i was writing rewrite erik in a disguise it felt like classic phantom!#it was different from his opera ghost persona who's heard but never seen (besides a rare hand)#the red death was heard seen and feared! :o #rewrite erik was still there with him explaining the story of 'don juan' and a couple adaptations (bob's burgers parrot: 'nerd alert!')#and his sense of humor was still there a bit!#he leans against the balcony and twirls his chain belt around saying 'what a shame what a shame!' like a total sass queen! ;D #he uses lots of big words like his opera ghost persona (so many synonyms to look up...) and he's menacing like og #the og gets what the og wants! ;)#and the og is so different from rewrite erik! :o #the red death scene feels like a true phantom of the opera moment #it's woah man :o #even though you can probably tell it's erik i used 'they' for the red death #death has no gender even in the edgar allen poe story! (except in family guy)#and i think rewrite erik would love using 'they' for that persona (and the opera ghost since mr. e and kristin are obvious)#he uses his guy sounding opera ghost voice yet his robe looks like a dress (and his girl voice peeks through during the don juan explaining)#the red death is a total mystery! ;)

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hwei · 3 days

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saw a post on my FYP asking what apheIios's personality is for writing him and honestly I don't know if I can even begin to describe him and he's one of my fav characters

#hwhee talks #also depends on the skin for him since id say heartsteeI is quite a bit different from his runeterra personality #I have talked too much about him before but hes surprisingly gentle and kind #even kind of implied to be. passive #i dont wanna say push over because that has negative connotations but hes more of a Follower than a Leader #very much plays the role of a Weapon and does whats told and expected of him #man saying Dependent sounds like its a bad thing #but you guys get what i mean.#and gentle and compassionate and sympathetic to others and their existence and right to live. hes very respectful #i mean id say his biggest ''flaw'' (wouldn't say its a bad thing) is being emotional #openly weeping for people who want him and his people dead. crying when he has to take a life he doesnt want to #but feels obligated to bc thats his role and duty. the inner turmoil but always surrendering to his role as a Weapon #the usual ''the weapon has Emotions and cant act fully as a tool of death and harm'' trope but #in this case he always does carry out his missions. despite these feelings since he feels theres no other choice #and also battling the invisible battle nobody else sees of just flat out being in pain and agony #but he doesnt see himself worthy enough (human enough? deserving enough??) to complain about his situation #because of his duty and role #and probably also thinks of things like ''my sister has it worse right now so i cant complain'' etc etc #but there is the lighter undertones you can insert like him being a little weird or playful or funny #moments he can smile and take in the beauty of the world or make a really quirky weird joke #or weird gesture like drinking a bottle of vinegar or something #think its in character for him to be out of touch with social cues and socializing and talking to people to know whats Weird and Not Weird #the disconnect can be humorous #idk he strikes me as the type of guy who always surprises you if that makes sense #yeah this is an assassin but he still does something thatll take you off guard #i dont think hes secretive in the usual mysterious sense but he just keeps stuff to himself because his problems have no place in a world #where others have it harder. or when he has a job to do and stuff. theres no time for it #hes really skilled and smart but somehow even knowing that youd probably be shocked i think. do these words make sense. help #i think also having a rare hidden playful side makes him super cute and charming #like his taunt emote is so dang cute and unexpected nfskdbsksbskdh

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aeide-thea · 9 months

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still picking my way thru s3 of the witcher episode by agonizing episode but it's going SO slowly bc every time i watch one it's just like. right. this show is a B movie now and not in a good way

#like it's not like NONE of it has been fun but it's just like. i enjoy the fandom but the source material is. not actually good #and people SO badly want to credit it with all this depth and sophistication it just absolutely does not have #but s1 was at least like. coherent and fun if unsubtle #s2 and s3 have just been this big spiral into like. an attempt at Fantasy Saga #which would be fine if they were good enough at storytelling to do that coherently #but unfortunately it's just like. disconnected scene after disconnected scene strung together by mediocre action and worse humor #all of which have looked weirdly pastede-on-yay in a way i don't know enough formal film language to articulate #but it's just like. it doesn't feel like the characters are actually moving through the world‚ visually #it's just costumed ppl shoehorned into backgrounds that are either (1) cartoonishly stagey (2) dreary irl countryside somewhere (3) bad CGI #and then geralt gets whumped and it's like. wait NOW you want us to care abt him? after sidelining him all season?#like. idk. structurally and emotionally the writing just sucks #and then the acting and visuals are. largely also bad. lol.#jaskier is probably one of the best bits really but then they give him so much material that's absolutely clownish #and it's like. i'm not opposed to humor but it's remarkable the way the juxtaposition of his tone with the overall tone of the show #manages to make BOTH vibes seem stupid somehow. honestly an achievement #however. big fan of predicted-by-me-but-still-good betrayal scene. like. he didn't even seem surprised which was perf honestly #'obviously you lived down to my expectations‚ that's just how life goes and has gone ever since geralt blew up at me on that mountain'#just like. makes total sense and also grants him some actual depth and dignity #now do that the whole time with all the characters challenge…#tvblogging #(i realize no1 currs but like. i do like 2 record my Thots On Media otherwise they all fall out of my head like a sieve)

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tactfulsaboteur · 9 months

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every time i see somebody using a swear or making an even slightly inappropriate or hurtful joke in the family group chat i remember how some people don't have to turn off three quarters of their personality to interact with their family. wacky. how does it feel to live like that

#i think a large part of why i'm a bit standoffish with the fam now is like no hate but they were (still are) all very nice™ people #so growing up i wouldn't dream of so much as one little swear or saying anything that could be misconstrued as disrespectful #whereas after i moved out and started doing things on my own various things occurred #to make my sense of humor and general social attitude a lot more thick-skinned #and that's not even getting into the blatant racism and suchlike that i pretty much only express online or with a select few irl friends #because y'know... i like having a job and stuff #so while i still love them and care for them and all that i'm basically not permitted to be funny #or express half my deeply held beliefs around them #because that wouldn't be nice™ of me #and i'm sitting here smiling politely like #“chief me and the homies tell eachother to kill ourselves over the most miniscule shit at least weekly”#“me and the homies joke about the most horrific shit your precious little brain can imagine”#a well known running joke in my circle is nothing more than a picture of a dude gaping his asshole wider than you thought humanly possible #if you knew my actual political opinions you'd hurl #i hope they survive the time of monsters but i am not terribly optimistic

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scarletspider2the2ndpower · 2 years

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“Life after Death,” Scarlet Spider (Vol. 2/2012), #1.

Writer: Christopher Yost; Penciler : Ryan Stegman; Inker: Michael Babinsky; Colorist: Marte Garcia; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Scarlet Spider vol. 2 #Scarlet Spider 2012 #Scarlet Spider #Kaine #Kaine Parker #but of an overlapping post because I love the contrast (and it highlights a bit of Kaine’s Sahara Desert-dry sense of humor)#that Kaine still sees himself as the same murderer he used to be despite demonstrable evidence that his attitude has changed #and consequently his whole approach to life (and combat) is different #Also I try to think about the Jackal as little as possible but I do find this trend of Kaine clawing faces to be interesting…#seeing as how prevalent that was in Kaine and Warren’s relationship

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kentopedia · 6 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ HOME COOKED MEAL — nanami kento

you bring itadori home for dinner & he gets to see a different side to kento

contents. aka you dig up some teenage photos of nanami, fem!reader, husband nanami, fluff, yuuji being your adopted son, i haven't watched the new ep (& i won't) but there is enough nanami angst so i am here to fix that — 1.7k

when you got ready to leave the school, your jacket on and bag tugged over your shoulder, you passed yuuji itadori in the halls, his expression suspiciously similar to a kicked puppy.

yuuji perked up a bit as you walked by, offering you a small smile and a wave. and though you considered heading on home for the night, eager to see your husband, you slowed, hesitant to leave the poor kid all alone.

“everything okay, yuuji?” you asked, frowning as he rested his elbows on his knees, studying a stain on the floor of the school.

“hm?” the teenager glanced up, eyes bright and wide. his sweet smile was back on his face, so innocent and kind. for someone who had been through so much already, he was more caring than many people that you’d met in your life. “oh, everything’s fine. everyone’s just out on missions, so i feel a little…” he pulled up one shoulder in a shrug. “useless.”

you knew it must have been hard for him, being a student that wasn’t quite like the others, having to train a little differently, adapt differently. but yuuji took it in stride, and he handled it better than any normal person would.

with a nod, you secured your bag around your other shoulder, shifting your feet. “it’s just going to be you here tonight, then?”

he hummed, sticking his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall. “i think so. some of the others might be around, but they’re resting up.”

“oh.” though you were certain yuuji had no qualms about spending an evening on his own, the thought of it made you feel like you were leaving a kitten out in the rain. almost pitiful.

yuuji waved before you could say another word, smiling, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “have a good night! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

the car ride was spent listening to yuuji tell you story after story, the boy opening up to you in a way that he hadn’t quite related to any of the other sorcerers, even gojo.

you smiled to yourself, enjoying his stories as you wondered how to tell kento that you were bringing your student home for dinner.

there was still a bridge to cross between them, and though you knew they both liked the other more than they let on, kento hadn’t quite connected to the boy like he wanted to.

you hoped that by inviting him over, yuuji would see that kento, truly, wasn’t as intense as he let on. he was sweet, caring, and he did have a sense of humor… even if gojo didn’t really believe that.

you led yuuji into the house, and stopped him when you heard the sound of kento in the kitchen. his mission had ended earlier than yours, and he’d offered to cook tonight; there would be more than enough food for the three of you.

“i’ll be right back,” you said, tapping yuuji on the shoulder. “let me go tell kento you’re here.”

you’d considered letting your husband know before you arrived, but you hadn’t wanted him to protest. kento would try to make a fuss of having a guest over, even if it was only yuuji, and he certainly didn’t care about formalities.

your heart skipped when you reached kento, his back turned, finishing up the meal that was steaming on the stove. even just standing in the threshold of the kitchen, you were overwhelmed with all of your love for him.

but it didn’t take much… it never had. you’d always been sickeningly in love with nanami kento.

your footsteps were soft as you snuck up behind him. “kento,” you said, just above a whisper, snaking your arms around his waist. you kissed the muscles between his shoulder blades, listening to the steady thrum of blood pumping through his body.

“hi, sweetheart.” he’d heard you approach, and he turned, eyes softening when he glanced at you over his shoulder. “everything okay at the school?”

you nodded, squeezing him tighter. even though you’d seen him just a few hours prior, it felt like a long time—time apart when you were battling curses always dragged as you worried for each other’s safety. “did your mission go okay?” you asked.

he took your hands from around his waist, bringing them to his lips softly. “everything went fine. dinner’s almost ready so—” then, he noticed your guilty expression, one that you were clearly horrible at hiding. “is something wrong?”

you smiled innocently. “no! i just… brought a guest.”

kento’s eyebrows raised, his smiling falling quickly. “well, you could’ve told me before.” he sighed, shaking his head as he turned around to face you.

“sorry, i thought i’d surprise you.”

kento’s lips drew into a thinner line. “honey, please tell me gojo satoru is not in my house right now. he’s not welcome here anymore, because the last time he almost destroyed our fucki—” kento glanced up, his words falling away as he glanced over your shoulder. “itadori. hello. i didn’t realize you were there.”

you turned, releasing kento as yuuji gawked back at you. he’d caught in such a loving embrace with kento. yuuji’s normally stoic teacher was in the middle of swearing, blonde hair tumbling over his forehead. kento had replaced his suit with casual wear, and his contacts had been taken out. in place of them were wire-rimmed glasses.

“nanamin!” yuuji gasped. “you look so different.”

“yes, well, i apologize for my apperance.” kento sighed, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “i wasn’t aware we were having guests.”

“one guest. its just yuuji,” you said, poking him in the middle of the chest as his professional tone returned, so easily taking over. “i don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.”

“no, i don’t!” yuuji backtracked, eyes wide as he shuffled forward. “no, you look cool, you don’t look so…”

kento raised his eyebrows, amused, even if yuuji couldn’t detect the humor in his expression. “so what?”

the boy’s cheeks turned pink, embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “um—”

“you don’t look like you’ve got a stick up your ass.” you said, voicing yuuji’s obvious thoughts as you kissed kento on the cheek with a short laugh. of course, it was only to embarrass him further in front of his student.

kento feigned a scowl, but didn’t push you away, his gaze firmly planted on yuuji. “that’s because i try to keep my relationships at work strictly professional.”

“really?” yuuji grinned, stuffing his hands back in his pockets, his posture relaxing as he grew more comfortable in your home. “not very professional to marry someone you work with, is it?”

you laughed loudly, already caring so deeply for the boy that you’d known for such a short period of time.

“that was certainly an accident,” kento muttered, but his fingers lingered on your spine, tracing each of the bones. “i’ll have you know we were not working together when we got together.”

“really?” yuuji’s curiosity spiked. “how long have you been together, then?”

you thought back to when you were teenagers, when kento had a haircut that he had since regretted, and smiled mischievously. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through old photos, back from when you were just kids, the images grainy and of much lower quality than the ones from your recent vacation.

“hey, don’t show him those!” kento protested. he reached for your phone, but you scrambled under his arm, stretching your hand out to give yuuji the device. “itadori, don’t—” kento’s voice held a hint of panic, his cheeks hot with embarrassment as he grabbed you around the waist, trying to stop you from giving yuuji the phone.

but it was already in yuuji’s hands, and you laughed loudly, knowing that while you looked a little more awkward than you did now, your appearance had changed near as drastically as kento’s.

yuuji squinted his eyes at a sixteen year old nanami, blond hair long enough to reach his eyes, dressed in an all black ensemble, an earbud in one ear. kento was hardly smiling, but you beamed next to him in the photo, dressed more childishly than you were now, but just as pretty. the image from when you still fumbled around each other, unsure how to admit that you were both in love.

a roar of laughter left yuuji as kento’s expression fell, and he released you, snapping the phone out of itadori’s palm. “that’s you, nanamin? no way. how did you…” yuuji glanced between you, squinting his eyes. “well, i guess looking at you now it makes sense.”

“i know,” you agreed, covering your smiles with your palms. “we looked a little silly together back then. i saw the potential in him, but satoru certainly loved to make fun of us, didn’t he, ken?”

“i have absolutely no desire to relive those days.”

yuuji laughed. “you were just like fushiguro, i bet!”

“scarily similar,” you agreed, as kento rolled his eyes beside you, putting your phone in his pocket to keep you from scavenging any older photos to share with the kid. “and he still loves to listen to—”

“don’t finish that sentence or i’ll save this dinner all for myself.”

yuuji eyes flew up to his hairline, but you just snorted, knowing that kento’s threats were about as scary as a puppy.

“he’s still sensitive about it,” you whispered to yuuji. “gojo and his friends made fun of him all the time.”

“oh really. just me?” kento retorted under his breath.

“you must have been pretty popular, then!” yuuji grinned. “if you were friends with gojo. he said all the girls in school loved him!”

kento made an irritated sound, stirring the spoon roughly against the pot. “well, satoru is the last person you should listen to. he has an ego bigger than the sun. and my wife is leading you astray. she was not similar to satoru, she was painfully shy, and it took weeks for either of us to talk to each other.” kento took the pan off the stove, peering over his shoulder at you. “and she is very lucky i love her too much to dig up any embarrassing stories of her.”

“well, stories about me aren’t that interesting anyway.” you laughed, pointedly turning your back to kento. “yuuji, the good news is, i’ve got some more photos in kento in the old photo books. let’s go see them!”

#i hope this shows up in the tags bc i’ve been fighting with tumblr ugh #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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irndad · 3 months

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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

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singing-telegram · 1 year

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Anyone looking to make a proper Scooby-Doo adaptation please remember:

Fred is the charismatic face of the group and the strategizer. Later adaptations made him a massive himbo who chugs respect for women juice and those have become necessary parts of his character.

Shaggy is cowardly but also incredibly resourceful; let us not forget his skill at ventriloquism. Make Shaggy the skill monkey, who every episode mentions some weird skill he has that's previously unmentioned; that'd be an amazing running gag. Also, bring back the dry humor Casey Kasem injected into the og character.

Scooby is Shaggy's best friend, the other half to his two-man comedy routine. Independently of Shaggy, Scooby is also prone to be a bit mischievous and just kind of a little scamp. Play up both of those things.

Velma is the smart nerdy one, who also had a really dry sense of humor. I don't know why she was turned into the "I'm surrounded by idiots" character because, while as I stated, she always had a dry sense of humor, she was never mean to her friends and never talked down to them, or anyone else. Bring back the chipper Velma from like Witch's Ghost or Zombie Island. Let Velma be a little cutie pie. Also keep her as a lebian

Daphne was... originally really just "The Girly One" but later adaptations have fleshed her out, like making her essentially the muscle of the group, which is just amazing and should continue. She's also been cast as the oddly resourceful one. Shaggy is the skill monkey, Daphne is the one who has a tool for literally any job. Human Swiss Army Knife, which again, would be an amazing running gag.

Have Shaggy and Daphne bounce off-the-wall ideas for a plan together, Fred steps in to ground them, while still using their ideas, and incorporating Velma's theories about the case.

Make references to Flim Flam and Hot Dog Water

A Scooby-Doo adaptation should not be difficult, and must be done with love.

#scooby gang #scooby doo #shaggy rogers #fred jones #daphne blake #velma dinkley #velma the series #scooby movies #jelloapocalypse

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deadsetobsessions · 2 months

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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny adopts jason todd #jason todd #bamf danny phantom #alley drunk! danny au #danny: i'm grieving #jason: wanna bet?#that's right jason's this universe's jazz fenton #this universe's danny fenton died and that's why danny can exist here without causing issues #danny: i have adopted a random child #danny: this child is jazz wtf

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