#i actually went INSANE dude WHAT THE HELL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starswguru · 2 months

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❝ message in a bottle ; 마크이

𖥻 pairing: college!mark lee x female reader

𖥻 contains: college!au, fluff, slight angst, second chance romance

𖥻 warnings: swearing, marijuana & alcohol consumption / english is not my first language and this is my first work ever on tumblr so i am sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or misspellings

word count — 4.06k

synopsis — you and mark were in a situationship for a few months before things ended poorly when you got too scared of your feelings and he had to leave the country for an exchange program in london. now, six months later, you were at a party with your friends and discovered mark was back in town.

🎀

AND just like that, your whole world stopped spinning for a long and torturous minute. in the blink of an eye, you went from being over-the-moon excited — and slightly intoxicated — with the idea of partying with your friends during the first summer night before heading to your hometown in the next couple of days to being paralyzed, feeling all your blood get drained far away from where it should be in your body. in the blink of an eye, you went from being a happy girl with the arrival of the last member of your friend group to someone terrified with the sight of a ghost from the past. a quick glance, unintended by all means, in mark’s direction was all it took for the memories from that previous year to come flooding back to hit you like a lost train.

“hey, princess,” he said. his cheeks burning in a shade of shameful red, but something stronger than him was preventing his stare from going anywhere else other than your eyes. there was a blunt hanging between his teeth. “how you doing?”

“that’s it, guys; i’m done with this. i’m just gonna change my major or something like that! everything’s going terribly wrong, and i can’t keep torturing myself by studying this shit.”

you dropped your head and rested your forehead on your arm that lay on top of the desk in front of you right as the confession slipped from your lips like a dangerous poison that you should not have taken. it was the first time you’d ever said it out loud to someone else to hear — other than the mischievous voice inside your head — how you truly felt about the english major you were pursuing. the fear of judgment and of being too hasty about this decision was corroding every last bit of your emotional health, and because of it, you could sense that a storm was coming. what if you did change majors and ended up not adapting? how would you find a job, or better yet: how would you support living all by yourself if you couldn’t even pick an undergraduate academic path? time was running out, and the unbearable clock inside your mind wouldn’t give you a break. the tick-tacking of the goddamn thing was going to drive you to insanity at any point soon.

“hey, chill for once, okay? it’s normal to feel like that and to want something new. hell, i know i had to change my major twice before finding out what i actually wanted to do. jae did the same thing. you’re not alone.” jeno offered you a small yet reassuring smile or someone who didn’t quite know what to say but still wanted to see his friend more relaxed.

“exactly! take a deep breath and think things through with an easy heart. if you need help, we’re here to help you." swallowing the last bite of the sandwich he had bought earlier, renjun tapped the notebook in front of him. “how’s that linguistics project going?”

as you raised your head, you shook your head in a negative sign. “i mean, it’s good. too good, actually… and that’s sort of the problem. like, the dude i’m working with is super sweet and really fucking good at this class and so he’s kind of doing the whole thing by himself and dragging me along with it ever since we started. i feel terrible, even if he says it’s all good and stuff, but it is what it is, i guess.”

before either of the guys could express any opinion about what was just said, a guy with freshly cut black hair — it was even possible to see the drawing of a spiderweb on the left side of his undercut —, earphones in and a large yankees shirt approached the desk, more specifically you, and offered a genuine smile that wasn’t common to see between two colleagues who were only working on a school project together at you. the unknown man squatted so he could be at your height and unlocked his ipad’s screen to the word document the two of you were using to write notes together, or at least that was the initial idea because the reality was that mark was doing all of it alone, proudly.

“oh, hi, y/n, you good? just wanted to ask you a quick question… have you taken a look at this topic right here? i know we’re only supposed to work on it in two weeks but i was wondering if maybe you’ve come up with the same conclusion as me.”

feeling a thousand times more embarrassed than if a professor asked you to present a thirty-minute seminar alone in front of the whole class, you felt the tip of your fingers getting cold and a thin droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. “uhm, hey, mark. yeah, about that… look, i didn’t really have a chance to look at that yet, i’m sorry. i can barely manage this week’s assignments, let alone two weeks from now. i- i’ll text you when i read it, okay?”

you didn’t know it at the time — or if you did, you had an enviable ability of discretion — but every single time mark heard his name escape from your heavenly drawn lips, his heart would skip a beat or two and he felt like he was about to combust at any second. it was the first time in his whole life that he had ever felt that way about someone and dealing with feelings of that magnitude was both weird and extraordinary, which meant that the ravenette wasn’t completely aware of how to process them. mark’s solution for his overwhelming thoughts whenever you were around was to take charge of everything he could in that project, to make you feel relaxed about that one particular class. the canadian was terrible at linguistics, for his skills were much more reliable during literature classes: he could interpret and internalize poetry from the eighteenth century like it was nothing, and plays written in latin during the roman empire were of natural understanding for him; and yet, ever since the first day of that semester in which it was requested that both of you joined efforts to build the complicated assignment, it was impossible for mark to not pull all-nighters reading texts and more texts, watching one video class after another that broke down the subject of that class just so he could give his absolute best when the time came to work alongside you and you didn’t find him an idiot, as most people in that university usually did after meeting him for the first time.

mark just wanted to impress you and the last thing he could be worried about was doing all that alone, as long as it meant that he could still have the minimum interaction with you.

“yeah, sure, that’s cool. if you need anything let me know, alright?”

you were still in a state of complete shock. no words would come out of your mouth, making it impossible to answer properly the question directed at you by the boy that a year before was the reason for many sleepless nights and therapy sessions, through no fault of his, which was even worse, because mark was perfect and you hated yourself for how everything ended.

a cold breeze, too cold for a summer night, hit the both of you with enough strength to make you shiver and it was only then that you realized that none of your friends were around anymore. you were alone again with mark for what had felt like a lifetime since he left the country for an exchange program in london and with enough unspoken words to make the whole situation a million times more uncomfortable than it needed to be. what were you supposed to say right now? “oh, hi, mark, long time no see! listen, i’m really sorry for being horrible to you last year, i’ve spent the last six months torturing myself because i only woke up to the fact that i had let the perfect guy for me get away too late to try and fix everything”? you ran your fingers through your hair, knowing that there were no words of your knowledge that could make it easier, that could put together again the pieces of what had once been something magical that the two of them were building.

you couldn’t care less about all those times your therapist tried to be kinder to your heart than you had ever been, or how your friends always tried to distract your mind from the constant haunt of self-collection and, to be honest, didn’t really mind that yes, after all the effort and studying, you had managed to change your major to something you actually enjoyed if the price for it was to drop the perfect crystal piece that was mark’s precious heart. there were no words that could take that back, and going against every piece of advice that was given to you, you had imagined more times than you’d like to admit how this encounter would play out: what you would do, what you would say or not say, how it’d feel… but none of those scenarios inside your mind was anywhere near to the real sensation of being in front of him again.

mark looked taller — or maybe it was just the feeling of missing him crushing your soul and clouding your judgment —, the slim body now gave way to the body of a man who went to the gym and tried to truly take care of his health, his hair that previously used to be as dark as the t-shirts he used to enjoy wearing was now covered in a shade of red so bright that it reminded you of his favorite superhero’s suit. even still, the one thing that caught your attention the most were his eyes. before mark left, before the whole chaos, they were always big and full of life, like those of a curious cub and you could always feel a cozy warmth travel across your body when mark looked at you with such brightness; however, it seemed that ever since the canadian got back in town, they were opaque, closed off to the outer world as if his eyes were now carrying some kind of intense melancholy behind them. the familiar redness in his sclerae, months ago, used to always be accompanied by an excited and smiling version of mark lee, but that night the only thing apparent to you was that lee was holding on to weed like some kind of way to numb the break-up pain.

the redhead had lived a thousand different lives during his exchange: saw and learned things that he knew he would never have achieved if he hadn't accepted the opportunity to go to england and yet, his mind couldn’t recall any of those experiences with the genuine happiness he should’ve felt like any other normal and grateful person would if they were on his shoes; to mark, ever since you left him all alone, he had turned into nothing but an empty shell of what should’ve been the real mark lee. what were his experiences, his learnings, his funny stories if, at any moment, he was allowed to at least call the person he loved and share all of that with her?

“yeah, i guess i’m okay.” you answered, holding back a cry that was stuck in your throat before looking away. “you?”

a shiver went down the english student as he waited for his project partner to arrive at the coffee shop you two had agreed to meet at to finish for good the agonizing linguistics document. it didn’t even seem real that you were finally concluding the most stressful and endless project of your university career until that moment and despite the sweet taste of reaching the finish line, mark had on his lips a bitter one, because he knew that the very instant you pressed “send” on the body of that e-mail to your professor, all of his excuses to talk to you would come to an end. it was only the beginning of november, you should spend at least a few more weeks studying together if said professor were to follow a normal academic calendar like the rest of his fellow colleagues of the department.

mark would only have one last chance of making this work out and that chance was right there and then. anxiety and fear were destroying the boy with more strength than he himself was biting through his nails waiting for you to arrive.

“gosh, mark, i’m so sorry!” you said in a panting tone when you finally managed to get to the coffee shop and met the guy that, by that point, had already become your friend. “the bus took forever to get to the stop i needed and then the subway was also chaotic… anyways, i’m sorry that i’m late.”

the both of you stayed a long time in that coffee shop, not only finishing the assignment but also laughing together and watching a few episodes of modern family on his computer as a way to relax after all the constant flow of negative emotions the both of you were facing during that semester due to not only that particular class but also all the other ones with their enormous reading load. by the time you had indeed finished what you were supposed to do, you were feeling so comfortable in mark’s presence that you didn’t even notice when you heart started to race faster and faster before the mundane things the lee did: the way he smiled from ear to ear, or how kind he was to everyone around him. you were starting to fall in love with how mark explained all the different concepts he used to build his arguments across the paper like someone would explain the most basic things to a child, and you thought it was sweet the way he would say “dude” and “no way” every couple of sentences that fell from his lips. but, above all, unconsciously, the way mark seemed to glow every time he looked at you was ethereal to your eyes.

as soon as you sent the hated file, it started to rain on the outside of the coffee shop, but contrary to the ideal scenario, you couldn’t stay in there just waiting until the climate conditions became more favorable because the two of you had places to be at, on opposite directions. there would be no other alternative but to run to the nearest subway station, or in the brunette’s case, the bus stop.

mark immediately took off his hoodie to shield you as best as he could from the rain, in exchange for you protecting his backpack that contained his computer as if your life depended on it, the moment you two stepped outside the establishment and something of a thunderstorm was taking over the avenue. mark couldn’t help it and ended up laughing at the situation you two had found yourselves in, thinking about how he wished he was a little less broke and had a car to take the girl of his dreams back to her place without having to worry about the rain, or how he wished he was stronger to pick you up and carry you to the subway station and, with that, spare your shoes from coming in contact with the soaked surface of the sidewalk. before you could notice, you were right in front of the stairs that led to the station.

“bye, i think.” you said, giggling along with him while you tried to fix your hair that, despite mark’s hoodie’s protection, still got wet from the rain.

the lee was going to answer you like a decent and proper person, he really was, but in that very moment, a raindrop fell from the marquee above you and somehow managed to hit you right on the forehead, which made you close your eyes, but mark kept his wide open. with an automatic reaction of his body, almost like an involuntary movement that he was incapable of controlling — such as the beats of his accelerated heart — his left hand traveled to your neck while his right thumb was busy drying the solitary raindrop slowly, to give his mind time to analyze every little inch of your face so close to his. mark tried to respond with words to your farewell, but his impulse to kiss you was far stronger than any cohesive phrase that his brain could formulate in that moment.

the literature student, now in his final semester, nodded as he bit his lower lip and those opaque eyes fell to the floor beneath his feet after stepping on the remaining of his blunt. mark didn’t even know why he started that conversation in the first place, it was obvious that it was impossible for him to stand close to you without it affecting some part of him — whether for good or for bad — and even still, there he was, not managing to say a single word to you, nor being able to get closer, just feeding that giant gray and terrifying cloud that grew over both of your heads due to the impasse of what this was and what it should have been.

unlike his mind, that was only able to repeat tirelessly the day he finally built the confidence to kiss you, yours was in a hurricane of terrible memories that involved the brief, yet intense, relationship you two shared — or whatever the hell one could call it. how was it even possible that something that lasted only four months could leave such deep scars?

if mark was trying to hold back a smile remembering how it felt to have your lips on top of his, you were only torturing yourself with the replayed image of mark being crushed in front of you, by no fault other than your own. it was your fault that fear was allowed to consume every single good thing that the lee had ever given you; it was your fault that you’d thought that whole thing was a sick and sadistic joke from the universe and that, in reality, there was no way someone like him could've ever fallen in love with you. in the deepest, darkest, cruelest part of your soul, you were convinced that everything was your fault and not your mind trying to destroy you before something so pure and happy.

you were a sinking ship, navigating towards a port with not a single sight of a lighthouse’s spark to help you, not knowing how to reach the treasure that awaited your arrival because other people had already destroyed the lighthouse. the ability to grope around, trying to find yourself in the darkness you’d placed yourself, was stripped away from you the second you gave in to the bruises that were caused by third parties, and mark knew it wasn't your fault, although it was still difficult to try and be the guide to someone that wouldn't allow them to have access to the heat and light from the fire he tried to offer.

without even realizing it, the silenced cry stuck in your throat for months on end started to escape, not giving you any power to control it. you felt anger, sadness, frustration and you were missing mark… all at the very same time, in an endless swirl triggered by the mere vision of having mark back into your reality.

just like the first time you kissed, the unconscious answer of mark lee’s body to the sound of you crying after such a long time being away from you was to wrap his arms around your body without allowing himself to give too much thought to the action that just took place. if it was even possible, noticing you needing him in any way, shape or form was a true calling for him and it didn't matter how much time could've gone by, the lee couldn't ignore it. to love you and protect you was just as natural as breathing.

between the supplications for your tears to stop and hair strokes, mark then began to feel something that he thought was dead coming back to life inside the hollow box that was his chest. for months now, the redhead just knew that his heart was no longer there. instead, it must've been put inside a bottle and thrown away into the ocean that separated his emotions from his rational mind, as if he wasn't even the owner of his own feelings.

“please, princess, don't cry. i’m begging you.”

the cruelty of your mind wouldn't give you a break for not even a single second ever since the last time you've heart mark’s melodious voice so close to your ear, and the fact that it carried the same heavy tone of request didn't help with your genuine desire to stop your sobbings as your face was pressed against his chest. in that moment, the last thing on your mind were the looks that other people could be directing at the two of you; you could only see the desperation all over the face of the only man you've ever truly loved. he was in such pain that day — the day you told him you didn't want to see him anymore. soon, though, that image was replaced with the memory of the gut-wrenching feeling of chronic emptiness that filled your chest the following week and you came to your senses that you had make a mistake, but that it was also too late: mark was in another country, it was far too late to ask for forgiveness.

“i know you probably hate me right now. i shouldn't have done that, i shouldn't have said that, i was such an idiot, stupid… i'm sorry, mark, i don't know what was going on in my mind to treat like that, i-”

that sobbing wouldn't allow you to form coherent sentences properly and the way you were crying so helplessly was becoming melancholic instead of just sad to the man holding you. if only mark could get into your merciless head just how he would never be able to hate you, not in a million years, not when there was so much love, desire and adoration intrinsic to the image he had of you, then maybe that big gray cloud would disappear forever and the two of you could just live like he hoped for. all mark wanted was to have the privilege of loving you again.

“y/n, look at me” mark held the red and tear wet face of his beloved girl with kindness while his tone of voice was filled with all the firmness the moment could ask for. “for christ’s sake, y/n, i love you. i could never hate you. dude, really, for once just keep your head out of this and focus on what i’m telling you right now. i love you and this whole time i was thinking of you. only you.”

even if he knew you wouldn't answer anything for a few seconds, or maybe even minutes, mark just allowed a sweet smile to appear on his lips while he delighted himself with the feeling of being allowed to hold your face once again, to stroke your cheeks and to place small, delicate kisses all over your beautiful face — which he knew would force your breathing to slow down, giving you the chance to calm down again. the canadian was smelling like the combination of weed and beer, but somehow, your body knew how to identify the familiar and characteristic smell of his cologne; the same smell your searched for and ached for during the coldest nights, when missing him was too overwhelming it almost felt like a hole was being digged up in your chest. that familiarity was the reason for the shy smile that took over your lips, that opened a breach for light and happiness after all those tears while mark traced your lips with his thumb, admiring you like you were some kind of artwork created just for him.

“i was made to stay just like this with you, princess. and i’m not leaving this time.”

#— ⟡ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐥𝐞𝐞 !#— ⟡ 𝐤𝐩𝐨𝐩 !#— ⟡ 𝐧𝐜𝐭 !#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #mark lee x you #mark lee angst #mark lee fluff #mark lee sfw #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct #nct dream drabbles #mark lee drabbles

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lunar-wandering · 6 months

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things about the Boboiboy series that drive me NUTS (this list is written solely from memory)

the fact that the first three elements, Wind, Earth, and Lightning, didn't really start out as having different personality's from Boboiboy himself (at least, not by much/it wasn't extremely noticable) but then, Lightning, after being split for too long, losing his memories completely, and achieving tier 2, becoming Thunderstorm, suddenly goes all Edgy(TM). and then Wind eats a mood-changing potion and goes manic, and not only does that unlock his tier 2, making him Cyclone but that becomes his personality. like. hello??? the implications.... and then later on, Fire, Water, Leaf, and Light manifest WITH their personalities pre-set. what??? the vague implication that the elements are sentient and the personalities started becoming more obvious when Boboiboy's mind started slipping/letting them have freer reign haunts me every day.

speaking of Fire's manifestation. he initially manifested from the stress of exams and walked around accidentally burning shit down in the middle of the night. what a mood tbh.

if the elements are sentient, the implications of Retak'ka stealing them from Boboiboy and using them- without having his personality change, is INSANE. like bro. he used them as a weapon instead of letting them be actual people..... and then later on in the comics Thunderstorm gets taken away AGAIN and is trapped in a sword, a literal weapon, and is used. again. HELLO????

both of the first times Thunderstorm gets summoned (both the obvious first time and the first time after they all got reset to tier 1 due to Complications) involving his phobia kills me every time why the FUCK did they do that. they didn't even address it the second time around but they animated Lightning looking like he was in distress anyways. WHY DID THEY DO THAT TO HIM. i know he's the fave but like. was this necessary.

BOBOIBOY JUST DECIDING "Y'KNOW WHAT??? I'M GONNA INVENT FUSIONS NOW HERE WE GO" IN THE SECOND MOVIE AND PROCEEDING TO ABSOLUTELY WIPE THE FLOOR WITH RETAK'KA

i could list so much Thunderstorm stuff tbh he's definitely the fave they give him so many cool bits of animation. he does the "teleports behind you" move SO OFTEN and it's SO GOOD

Leaf's deadpan "Fashion Tragedy" line

that one time Boboiboy split into Fire, Wind, and Leaf, and EVERYONE agreed he shouldn't have done that and should never do it again cause those three have negative braincells when in a group together

the songs??? like. the opening songs. the insert songs used in the movies. the OST. why the hell are they so good. i mean i know i personally like em cause they tend to use rock. but like. its SO GOOD.

Yaya and Ying being arguably the two most powerful/capable members of the friend group as they should

that one time Thunderstorm and Fang fought and they paused right before hitting each other and the objects behind both of them exploded from the force of the other's attack

in the first movie when it hinted that we'd see Boboiboy without his hat for the first time ever throughout the entire movie and then it FINALLY HAPPENED when he caught a giant hammer right before it could hit him and punched the dude away with a blast of energy. he has a white streak in his hair and it's visible in the series from this point onwards.

I KNOW IVE SAID A LOT OF THUNDERSTORM SCENES BUT THAT POINT IN GALAXY WHERE HE WAS USING TIER 2 BEFORE HE SHOULD'VE BEEN USING IT AND HE KEPT SWAPPING IN BETWEEN BOBOIBOY AND THUNDERSTORM THROUGHOUT THE FIGHT??? THAT WAS COOL AS FUCK I LOVED THAT

i could list so many of the really cool shots from this series tbh. that one time Light slow-mo backflipped over a bunch of debris and then activated laser eyes to shoot at the villain is a highlight.

literally everything about the fact the plot of this show went from "aliens come to earth to steal chocolate" to "boboiboy nearly fucking dies on an almost daily basis"

#Boboiboy

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mediumgayitalian · 15 days

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fic rec friday 13

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

I Need A Hero by @theroyalsavage

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted.

OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU. I AM LOSING MY MIND AND HAVE READ IT SO MANY DOZENS OF TIMES. genuinely one of my top faces like its so fucking GOOD!!! the romcom romance of it all!! makes me lose it!!! the angst of loving someone who is constantly putting himself on the front lines!! the fear of not knowing if he's coming home!! being his healer, holding his life in your hands because he doesn't trust it with anyone else!!!! what if i rioted!!! what if i chewed clean through my ceiling!!!!! what if i swallowed my phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what if i clawed my way out of the pit of despair!!!! i am!! gonna!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

2. As If His Hands Were Enough (to Hold an Avalanche Off) by @theroyalsavage

Nico di Angelo has been through enough to know life doesn't always work out the way you plan. But fate is a funny thing, and, in Nico's junior year of college, it hands him salvation in the form of freckled cheeks and a smile like the sun.

OH dude this author is actually everything to me. prepare for an onslaught of their stuff bc i am OBSESSED, but this one especially....oh it's special man. this had me LOSING MY MIND. seph’s acceptance made its way into my devotion scrapbook. never be ashamed of loving anybody….what a fucking thesis. i also ADORED how a) story didn’t end with them getting together, went thru them learning each other too and b) nico didn’t get fixed by dating will. he got fixed by loving himself, something he learned to do by loving will. crying.

3. Of Gods and Men by @theroyalsavage

There is something profoundly strange about the forest behind Will Solace’s new house. The trees, it seems, breathe magic. The truth is this: there are things that the forest hides that humans cannot understand. Nico di Angelo is one of them.

I LOVE PARTICULAR AUS!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU ROYAL SAVAGE!!!!! dude god nico and mortal will is always gonna knock me flat bc its so canon, you know? will is going to be a consort of a god one day. and to read it in fic has me HOWLING but this one in particular....OH the ending is gonna knock yall flat fr!!! if you like percy refusing immortality for annabeth youre gonna LOVE this!!

4. Kitchen Nightmares by @theroyalsavage

Nico is the owner and head chef of an upscale restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. There's nothing easy about running a business, especially when you have to juggle an overprotective father, a college-age sister, and a staff about as under control as a stampede. The last thing Nico needs is a rival in the form of the ugliest food truck on the face of the planet. And yet, that's exactly what he gets. Of food fights, fledgling friendships, and Nico di Angelo's stupid little soft spot for Will Solace.

i know ive literally said it like five times now but NO ONE does an au like theroyalsavage idc. dude romeo & juliet but food truck and fancy restaurant?? hello!!!! omg!! i literally sat my ass down and devoured this i could not stop myself. and then i hit the end and started it right back up again. the love without having the space to establish anything….inherent homoeroticism of rivalry…..my heart!!

5. don't wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours by @theroyalsavage

Will Solace, café manager extraordinaire, just wants to coast through their monthly open mic night in peace. He definitely is not banking on meeting a handsome stranger with the voice of the gods and the death glare of a high-ranking member of the KGB. And yet, that's exactly what he gets.

telling someone you’re not even dating you’re in love with them after like five months is insane behaviour will solace i get you 😭😭 he is so real in every scenario all the time like he is genuinely perfect for nico who is equally as insane and deserves someone who is fully obsessed with him. god.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

#yes another week of all one author what of it im obsessed with her work #wont even be the only week tbh there will be more #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #fic rec #fic rec friday #longpost

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deadboyswalking · 2 months

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The more I think about it, the more I realize that Rob Lucci is actually insane. WHY did you pretend to be a mute who can only communicate through a bird??? Why was that a key part of your civilian disguise???

I mean, I'd get it if he were a public figure or had an otherwise incredibly distinctive speaking voice, something that the public might recognize, but he's literally just some seemingly regular guy with a normal voice.

AND ALSO he continues to carry the bird after his cover was blown and it's implied that he always had it before he went undercover. What the hell, right? Dude, it is so much more suspicious to continue to carry your iconic bird and pretend to speak through it than it would've been to just leave the bird at home.

In conclusion, he is an absurd and beautiful man.

#rob lucci #one piece #water 7

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beatrixstonehill2 · 5 months

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"Come on, stop joking, guys!" Bianca laughed.

"I'm serious. Have you ever thought about it?" one of her male friends asked.

"Not really. I'm actually super happy you guys talked me into transitioning. Stop being lame! How about you guys take turns fucking me like the good old days!"

One of her guy friends shrugged. "I dunno, Bianca. It might be time for you to detrans and become a guy again."

Bianca spanked her estrogen-fattened ass. "And give this up? Ugh, what's gotten into you guys? We used to have so much fun!"

"Well yeah, you were the best piece of ass around!" another of her friends said, all four of them agreeing. "But like, back then it was super hot. You transitioned for the group, became such a sexy girl, grew those fat titties, that big ass, and we went to town on you like crazy. Honestly if not for you we'd all be lasting thirty seconds, striking out with every girl we meet."

Another of Bianca's guy friends added, "Every girl we date is crazy impressed at our stamina, and it's all thanks to practicing with that fat ass of yours, Bianca."

"So, what's the problem?" Bianca impatiently asked. "Come on, you guys! Pass me around! Fuck my brains out!"

"Wellll, I mean all of us are either engaged or married now. And you went and got that breast reduction. Those udders of yours were huge. Not they're small and kinda mid."

"But......! Ummm, I had to get a reduction! Mine were big and fat and fun to play with, I know, buuuut they were making me insanely dysphoric! I hated having boobs that big."

"See!?" one guy said. "You're dysphoric about having big tits? You're totally still a guy, Bianca."

Bianca blushed. "Am not! They just.... um, got in the way!"

"And we see you're still pumping your cock, that thing's got to be over a foot long."

"Well, yeah. After taking so much estrogen I wanted to make sure it didn't shrink like it does with most trans girls! So I've kept it nice and big, plus you guys had fun playing with it, jerking me off as you fuck me."

"We were experimenting," a different friend said. "I mean, it suits you being a girl with a huge cock like some Hentai chic. But don't you think it's time you give up the act and go back to being a dude?"

Bianca turned around, arms folded, her cock erect, bulging from her bikini. "So, this is it? After all these years being the group's personal fuck toy, you don't need me anymore?"

"Not really. Well, not to fuck. We have sexy pregnant wives and fiancés with big tits to get our rocks off with. You can't just stay a girl like this forever."

Bianca rolled her eyes. "OK, fiiiine. It does kind of suck being a girl. Well, it was fun while it lasted..... I guess you guys moved on. Bummer. So, what should I do?"

"First," another friend stepped in, swimming over to Bianca. "You go on testosterone, stop taking estrogen, and we get you to the gym. You're clearly bulking up already without us, dude."

"So you noticed?" Bianca giggled. "I miiiight've been trying to gain muscle for about a year now. Check out my arms!" She flexed them for her friend to feel.

"Nice! Don't worry, we made you become our little slutty girlfriend, we'll pay to have the rest of those tits removed, get you loaded up on steroids, and in no time you'll be dating, and get a ring on some cute, curvy pregnant chic's finger."

"That sounds nice..... Then what? Married life?"

"No, dummy. We swap our wives, go out swinging, film our girls fucking other dudes and upload it to their socials for their families to see. Turn these girls into good pregnant breeding cows obsessed with fucking. Just like you were."

Bianca's huge, erect cock twitched, falling loose, hanging between her meaty thighs. "Sounds like every guy's dream come true..... but no seriously, you assholes made me your fuckslut, and my cock is hard as hell, can you please fuck me one more time? Don't act like this fat ass of mine isn't tempting....."

"OK. One last time, Bianca. We'll fuck your brains out and milk that monster Futa cock you're packing. But after that we're turning to back into a boy whether you like it or not."

Bianca bit her lip, blushing. "Deal!"

#detrans kink #mtf detrans kink #mtftm kink #free use kink

72 notes · View notes

justagalwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Lavender - Ch. 4

Trying to get back to normal after sleeping with your boss is easier said than done. A continuation of chapters 1-3, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 8.3k

Warnings: Mild violence (full fic is pretty smutty so Minors DNI). No use of Y/N.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous of how cute you always make your apartments,” your friend, Cassie, was splayed out like a starfish in the middle of your living room floor. “Why aren’t we roommates? I want a cute apartment.”

“You had a cute apartment,” you replied, stretched out on your couch, one leg dangling off the side of it. “When I helped you unpack it. And then you trashed it within a week. Which is why we’re not roommates.”

“I’d keep it clean if I had the right motivation,” she pouted. You smiled.

“No you wouldn’t. I’d keep it clean and you’d reap the benefits. Which is why we’re not roommates.”

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighed. You laughed.

“But thank you for helping me settle in to this place,” you said, looking around your freshly unpacked living room, a pile of broken down boxes sitting by your front door. “It made it a lot easier, having an extra set of hands.”

It was true. After Joel and Tommy had left the day before, you’d basically just cried half the night, sitting on your couch and staring into space and trying to think about anything besides what you’d been doing the night before. When you went to bed, you told yourself you were getting up and unpacking in the morning. You had to keep going. Just because things hadn’t worked out with Joel didn’t mean you got to derail your life, even if that’s all you really felt like doing.

When Cassie called to see if you wanted help unpacking, you’d jumped on it. You didn’t have a ton of stuff but you had enough that it seemed a bit overwhelming to do on your own. She helped you get through every last box, setting knick-knacks out on the bookshelves and putting plates in cupboards and hanging dresses in your closet. Now, the job was done, the Janis Joplin album you’d been listening to past the end, a pleasant crackle the only thing coming from your newly-set up record player.

“Happy to do anything to put off studying for finals,” she sighed, her southern drawl thick. You snorted. “Haven’t actually been able to talk with you much lately, how was it living with the DILF?”

“Cass!” You gaped at her. She smirked. “Come on…”

“What!” She laughed. “I’ve only met him like twice but dude is hot. Like if he was in hell I’d buy a one way ticket hot.”

“You’re insane,” you groaned.

“And I can’t believe you haven’t made a move on him,” she said. “I mean, the set up could not be better. Or more porn-y. You’re the hot babysitter! All young and sexy hanging around his house all the time. All you’d probably have to do is drop one hint and he’d be all over you…”

“Turns out all I had to do was strip and get in his pool while tipsy,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it. Cassie sat up so fast it looked like she was on a spring.

“YOU WHAT?” She shrieked.

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving at her. “I just moved in, I’d rather my neighbors not hate me already…”

“You fucked the DILF?” She sat up on her knees and scooted across the floor until she was in your face.

“Can you call him something else, please?” You groaned.

“Did you fuck him?” She demanded. “I’ll call him that again if you don’t spill.”

“I… had sex with Joel,” you winced as you said it. She squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking you with it. “Ow.”

“When?” She demanded. “How? How was it? What are you doing now? Details, woman!”

“Friday night?” You asked more than answered.

“Oh my God,” she got up, lifting your legs off the couch and putting them on the floor so she could sit next to you. You sighed and sat up, tucking yourself into the corner and clutching a pillow to your stomach, your legs curled beside you. “Wait, was that your first time? That was your first time, right?”

“Yeah,” you winced again. She grabbed the pillow and hit your legs with it again.

“Oh. My. God.” She smacked you with the pillow on each word and you groaned, burying your face in the pillow on your lap. “How’d it happen?”

You pulled your face from the pillow and sighed.

“I made him dinner,” you said. “Well, I made him and Sarah dinner but Sarah ended up at a friend’s house for a slumber party so it was just the two of us…”

“Sure, sure,” she nodded along. “You’re a great cook, not surprised that seduced him.”

“I wasn’t trying to seduce him,” you groaned. “I swear, I really wasn’t…”

“You’ve had a crush on the guy for more than a year,” she rolled her eyes. “It was at least subconscious seduction.”

“Either way,” you sighed. “I’d been cooking and it was warm and I asked if I could swim but I didn’t have a swim suit…”

“So you skinny dipped.”

“No!” You glared at her. “I… jumped in the pool in my underwear.”

“Girl!”

“It wasn’t even sexy underwear!” You replied. “But I did… take my dress off in front of him.”

“Oh my GOD you big slut!” Cassie was giddy. You groaned. “I love it, tell me more.”

“He seemed to like me taking my clothes off?” You more asked than said. You were still uncertain about that, just how much he’d actually liked it.

“Well duh,” she shrugged. “You’re a hot young thing, of course he liked it, he’s a guy.”

“I didn’t think he saw me that way,” your hold on the pillow tightened. “But I saw how he was looking at me… or I thought I did, anyway. So he got in the pool too, in his boxers…” She shrieked before covering her mouth and nodding you on. “ And then… one thing led to another.”

“So was it good?” She asked. You blushed and nodded. “OK, how good? Like, I know you don’t have much to compare it to but…”

“Cass,” you said earnestly. “It was… holy shit. It was so fucking good.”

“Did you…” she raised her eyebrows at you. You just frowned. She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God you’re such a virgin.”

“Not anymore,” you smirked a little. She glared at you.

“You know what I’m asking,” she said. “Did you finish? Or at least get close? It was your first time, you can’t really expect…”

“Oh, I finished,” you cut her off. She looked surprised.

“You seem awful certain of yourself there.”

“Because I finished a lot,” you said, smiling in spite of yourself. “And hard. So many times, Cass.”

She blinked in shock.

“How many times?” She asked. You thought for a second.

“Well, there was twice in the pool,” you said. “Then once in the shower and two more times in bed… I think that’s it.”

“How many times did you fuck him?” She demanded.

“Just twice!” You said, defensive.

“And he got you off five times.”

You just nodded.

“Holy shit,” she gaped at you. “I’d need to fuck Chad like 15 times to have five orgasms, and that’s just if he hits his average.”

You just shrugged, not really sure what else to say.

“That’s it,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Now that Chad and I are done, next guy I date is going to be a DILF. I’m not settling for anything less than multiple orgasms from day one.”

“I’m sorry about you and Chad,” you said. She waved you off.

“I’m not dating anyone who has friends like Jeremy,” she scoffed. “Fuck that guy. Fuck both those guys. Besides, now I’m free to find myself a DILF. Anyway, what are you guys going to do now? Have you talked about it?”

“We’re not doing anything about it,” you sighed. “I’m his daughter’s nanny and he said he has to do what’s best for her. Which he’s right, he does. And that’s not me.”

You tried to fight the tears that were welling up in you but you didn’t do a good job of it, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep from crying.

“Oh, sweetie,” Cassie’s voice softened, her typical bravado gone. She pulled you against her, running her hand down your back. “I’m so sorry.”

“I did it to myself,” you sniffed into her shoulder. “He’s a good dad, his daughter takes priority. I knew that, I knew this could happen….”

“Are you still going to work for him?” She asked, still holding you.

“Yeah,” you said. “At least, I sure hope so. I don’t have another way to pay rent this summer.”

She pulled back from you, a sad look on her face.

“Think you can handle that?” She asked. “Being around the guy you love and you lost your virginity to that often?”

“I never said I loved him,” you wiped your cheeks.

“Oh honey,” she smiled sadly. “C’mon. I’m not that dumb and I know you’re not that dumb.”

“I’ll just…” you shrugged. “I’ll deal with it. I don’t have another way to pay rent and I really don’t want to just leave Sarah like that. I’m an adult. When you do adult stuff sometimes you have to deal with adult consequences. Right?”

She just sighed.

“I’m sleeping over,” she said. Before you opened your mouth to protest, she cut you off. “No, I am. You need ice cream and you need liquor and I need… to have an excuse to not study for my chem final.” You laughed and she smiled. “It’ll be better tomorrow. Promise.”

She was right, it was a bit better the next day. The hollow ache in your chest was better when she was there. Cassie got bourbon and insisted that it didn’t really count as drinking it when you just poured it over ice cream. You ordered a pizza loaded with mushrooms and extra cheese and watched your favorite romantic comedies before eventually passing out on the floor of your living room, surrounded by the glow of TV static and empty wine bottles.

Finals felt particularly hard that year. You’d always been a good test taker and studying had never been a major hurdle for you, but every class felt like a slog as you fought to get through your last week of the semester. It was like your brain was somewhere else entirely. You could focus on the exam for a few minutes if you really forced yourself to, but the second your mind drifted even slightly, you were wondering what Joel was doing. What was he feeling? Was he missing you or had Friday night barely even registered for him?

Sometimes, when your heart and mind wanted to be especially cruel, your thoughts drifted to Friday night. Just how full you’d felt and how empty you felt now. How he’d carefully, expertly drawn pleasure from your body like it was an art form. The way you’d felt closer to him than you had to any other person. And then he’d cut you off cold. Hadn’t even called. Maybe it really hadn’t mattered to him. Which was fine. Or so you tried to convince yourself. Just because it had been special for you doesn’t mean it had to be special for him and that was OK. It’s not like you hadn’t enjoyed it. That’s all he’d really owed you, you supposed. A good time in bed. And he’d definitely delivered on that.

That’s what you decided the night before you were set to start looking after Sarah again. It had been two weeks since you’d last seen or heard from Joel. You weren’t sure what seeing him again would do to you. It wasn’t like you were some heartbroken little girl but you weren’t going to pretend like it wasn’t going to hurt. It definitely was. But, if you thought about it as a one night thing - just an exchange between two people who wanted to have some fun - that made it a bit better. Like you hadn’t been let down.

“You can do this,” you said to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling. “It’s just work. You’ve always had a crush on Joel. This isn’t any different than before. You’ll hardly see the guy. You can do this.”

Your resolve wavered a bit as you knocked on his front door the next morning. There was no response but you could hear voices inside. You glanced at your watch. 7:25 a.m. He’d need to leave for work in 20 minutes. You’d always just let yourself in the summer before… You tested the door. Unlocked.

“You can do this,” you said again, opening the front door.

“But I want to go!” Sarah was all but yelling at her father. “It’s not fair!”

“I don’t care if it’s fair or not,” Joel said back, sounding exasperated. “You’re not going, you’re too young…”

“But everyone’s going!” She whined.

You went further into the house, frowning as you fidgeted with the pendent around your neck.

“Don’t care if everyone in Austin is goin’ because you ain’t,” Joel’s accent was getting thicker. You half smiled. This fight had probably been going for a minute. You found them both in Sarah’s room, the girl standing defiantly with her arms crossed, staring her father down, Joel with his hands on his hips looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

“Where isn’t she going?” You asked, leaning against the doorway. Both of their heads whipped around to see you, Sarah’s face lighting up and Joel’s mouth just hanging open slightly.

“Maybe you can convince him,” Sarah said. “He actually LISTENS to you…”

“I’m not exactly a great parent convincer,” you scrunched your nose at her. “I just let you get away with more than he does so you think I am.”

Joel was still gaping at you.

“Sorry,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Door was open, I don’t think you heard me knock over the thermonuclear war happening in here so I just let myself in…”

“That’s fine,” he said quickly. “Just… How’ve you been?”

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Finals are over, so that’s nice.”

“Good,” he said, nodding. “That’s… I never did… Well I didn’t go to school so I don’t know shit about finals but probably good to have them done.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Biochem was rough but I got an A-.”

You just looked at each other for a moment.

“Where isn’t Sarah going?” You asked eventually.

“A pool party,” Sarah said. “There’s a boy at school…”

“And there it is,” Joel cut her off, turning his attention back to his daughter. “You’re not going, I can’t be there so you’re not going. You’re too young to be going and hanging out with some boy in your bathing suit…”

“It’s not like we’re going to be by ourselves, Dad!” She whined. “You’re being so lame!”

“Sarah,” he sighed.

“Joel?” You said. He turned his head to face you so fast it almost made you jump. “Can I talk to you? Just… 30 seconds.” You looked at Sarah. “No eavesdropping.”

You led the way to the living room, pulling Joel into the corner of the room furthest from Sarah’s bedroom door.

“Are you only opposed because she’d be going unsupervised?” You asked.

“Well, that and she’s too young for boy girl parties,” he muttered. “I thought I had another three years before I had to deal with this shit. Two at least.”

“Well yeah, she’s too young for THAT kind of boy girl party but she’s 10,” you shrugged. “I think you’re trying to make this more than it is. She’s got that one piece, right?”

“She’s gotten taller since last summer though…” he looked back towards her room.

“OK,” you shrugged. “I’ll take her shopping, find her something that she likes that you’ll sign off on and I’ll take her to the party and make sure all the boys behave themselves.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he shook his head.

“You’re not,” you shrugged. “I’m offering. It’s going to be a party which means plenty of kids. She’ll probably feel very left out if she doesn’t get to go and all her friends are going to be talking about it all summer if they’re not all together again until the school year starts. You really want to deal with her being pissy at you that long? Because tween girls are a whole different animal, they can hold grudges like no other…”

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if she’s not a damn angel this whole week…”

“Sarah’s always an angel,” you smirked a bit at him.

“We both know that ain’t true,” he muttered and then sighed. “But she’s a good kid. A great kid. I should give her more credit, huh?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “You lucked out with that one, Miller.”

“I did,” he sighed again, before looking down at you. “Hey, um…”

“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s OK?” You said quickly. “Just go tell your kid that you’re the cool dad and then go to work, OK?”

His eyes searched yours for a moment.

“Yeah, OK.”

When Joel told Sarah she could go to the pool party, it was like a switch flipped. She flung her arms around her dad’s neck, leaping at him so he had to catch her. He smiled over her shoulder at you and you smiled back. It was so easy, making them both happy. You could do that.

When Joel left for work, things got easier. It was easy to pretend that the house was the same as it had always been - definitely hadn’t been fucked within an inch of your life in here, no sir. You fell into an easy rhythm with Sarah, walking down to the new playground they’d put in at the park down the road - this one had a really tall slide that the bigger kids were all about. Walking back for lunch. You went to the mall that day to shop for a swim suit instead of going to the library and you found a suit that Sarah loved (it was a two piece) that you thought Joel could tolerate (it was a tankini that covered everything but a sliver of skin between the top and the bottoms.) Joel got home a little after five and you all but ran out the door even as he tried to make awkward small talk with you.

It was odd, feeling accomplished about just surviving the day. But you’d seen Joel again and hadn’t even cried. Yet. You probably would later but you’d deal with that when the time came. You decided you’d earned a treat but your bank account balance was a bit dismal, so you stopped at your favorite coffee shop. Yes, it just so happened to be the one you’d met Joel at the first time, so what? You could do that. Just go there without thinking about him. Much.

You got yourself an iced lavender latte and at a small table at the back, tucking yourself into the corner of the bench side of it and pulling out your book. You’d purposely picked something that you’d have to focus on - “The Count of Monte Cristo” in the original French - so your mind wouldn’t wander to dangerous places. Like how Joel still smelled like sawdust.

“That final was a bitch, wasn’t it?”

You jumped a little, looking around for who spoke. There was a man in front of you, about your age, smiling with open eyes, leaning on the chair across from you.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, lowering the book.

“Biochem,” he said, giving you a sheepish half smile. “We weren’t in the same lab but we were in the same lecture hall. You always sat near the front, on the side of the room with the wonky projector? You always got to class earlier than me…”

“Oh,” you weren’t really sure what to say about that. You smiled anyway. “Yeah, that sounds like me. And yeah, that final… woof.”

“Right?” He took the seat across from you. “I thought I was toast. Heard a rumor you set the curve, though.”

“Seems like a vicious lie to me,” you smiled a little broader. “Couldn’t possibly have a reliable source for that…”

“Just the TA,” he winked. You put your book face down on the table, keeping your place. “Are you pre-med then?”

“Just bio,” you replied. “I’d love to do pre-med but I just can’t wrap my head around taking out enough student loans to become a doctor.”

“Damn,” he said. “And here I’d hoped we’d have more classes together.”

“Why would you hope for a thing like that?” You asked, smiling a bit bigger.

“The pre-med lecture halls look real boring after a while,” he leaned on the small table. “Course, maybe that’s a good thing. Fewer distractions.”

“I’m a distraction?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“A nice one,” he nodded. “Because without you there, I usually set the curve.”

You chatted with him for a while longer. His name was Brad and he claimed to have been trying to work up the courage to talk to you all semester. He took running into you at the coffee shop to be a sign that he should actually say something to you. You didn’t fight him on the idea. He seemed… nice. He was flirting with you and it felt good, even if you weren’t especially interested in him.

“Are you free Friday?” He asked. “My roommate’s band is playing and I’ll be honest, I’d love to have someone suffer with me.”

“I mean, since you’re selling it so hard,” you teased. He laughed.

“They’re actually not bad,” he said. “I just don’t want to show up with the prettiest girl and have her run off with the lead guitarist. Also, my roommate’s the lead guitarist.”

“Oh, so the bassist is fine?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’d sting less,” he said. “Plus the bassist is kind of a dumbass and you’re smart so you’ll get bored quick. I’d still have a shot.”

“Well so long as the important things are settled,” you smiled. “Then yeah, I’d like to come.”

You exchanged information and you put his number in your book as a bookmark, gathering your things and heading home as the coffee shop closed.

“You need to dress like a slut.” Cassie was rifling through your closet Thursday night. You’d managed to avoid Joel for almost the entire week, saying only a handful of words to him since Monday. You practically tripped over yourself trying to get out the door when he came home, desperate to put some distance between you. He wasn’t exactly trying to stop you, either, seemingly happy to get you out of his hair as soon as humanly possible. You kept trying to think about Brad. He was nice. He was smart. He was definitely interested. He was even pretty cute. He just… wasn’t Joel.

“I’m not dressing like a slut,” you sighed, flat on your back on your bed, your head hanging over the side as you watched her go through your clothes.

“Want to borrow something from me?” She said, ignoring you. “You need something that says ‘hey Brad, I’m open for business.’”

“Do I?” You asked.

“Want to get over Joel?” She asked, cocking her head all the way to the side to try to meet your eyes. “Fuck Brad.”

“It’s a first date,” you said. “I’m not fucking Brad.”

“Fucked Joel without a first date,” she muttered.

“Hey!” You said, indignant. “That’s different. We’d known each other a while.”

“Well Brad’s been gazing longingly across a lecture hall at you for half a year,” she replied. “That almost counts.”

“I wish I could be more casual about sex…” you began but she interrupted you.

“The way you become more casual about sex is by having casual sex,” she said. “Sweetie, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise it’s not. At least think about it, something to get that man out of your system. You need it.”

You sighed, thinking for the millionth time about how good he’d felt sinking into your body. How close you felt to him when talking in the dark, his skin on yours.

“Yeah,” you signed, trying to imagine what it would be like to feel Brad’s lips on your skin. But he kept changing shape until it wasn’t Brad in your mind anymore. “I do need it.”

Friday was Sarah’s pool party, making it a pretty damn easy day for you at work. You brought a bottle of nail polish and you sat on the deck of the pool as you just watched Sarah and Lizzie play with Charlie - the boy that had Joel so worried, a red headed kid who looked like he was made of more freckles than anything else - and about a dozen other kids you didn’t know. You gave yourself a mani-pedi poolside, trying to keep from getting soaked by splashing kids.

“So are you Sarah’s step-mom?” A woman smiled stiffly down at you, a small pile of towels in her arms.

“Oh, no,” you laughed a little. “Just the nanny.”

“Oh!” She laughed back, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. She sat down next to you. “I’m Clare’s mom, she’s the one in the blue suit.” She pointed her daughter out. She was leaping into the water, blonde pigtails streaming out behind her.

“She seems like a fun kid,” you smiled before going back to your toes.

“She’s the best,” she said. You felt her watching you. “So you’re just the nanny then?”

“Last time I checked,” you said absently, cleaning up the stray polish on your big toe. “Why?”

“Oh, no big reason,” she laughed a little. “I’d just… well, I’d be lying if I said just about every single mom here hasn’t had her eye on Joel Miller.”

“Really?” You said, looking over at her.

“Oh heck yeah,” she laughed. “I mean, you’ve met him. Obviously. A man who looks that good, knows how to fix things around the house AND he’s a dedicated parent? My goodness.”

“Mr. Miller is pretty great,” you smiled tightly, going back to your polish. “Really nice boss. And Sarah’s a dream. I lucked out.”

“I’m just relieved you’re not the girlfriend,” she said. “Not for me, of course. Happily married for 13 years. But my friend Susan over there would be heartbroken. She sent me over to do recon.”

You glanced up and saw a woman in a lime green one piece eyeing you from across the pool. She had to be 20 years older than you which gave her a good 10 years on Joel.

“Feel free to report back that Mr. Miller is - as far as the nanny is aware - very much on the market,” you said, closing the bottle of nail polish. Sarah shoved Lizzie in the pool and then jumped in after her with a shriek. “Susan should definitely give it a go, though. Mr. Miller’s busy but I think he’d make time for the right person.”

“Thanks so much, sweetie,” she smiled broadly. “So nice to meet you! Hope to see you at more of these types of things.”

“You too,” you smiled politely.

The pool party wound down but Sarah and Lizzie were getting on like a house on fire. You found Lizzie’s mom - a nice if frazzled woman named Margie who you’d met a few times before - and invited her daughter over to keep swimming at the Millers’ until Joel got home around six.

“Oh, you’re a dream!” She pulled you into a hug. “I’ve been desperate to go run some errands without Lizzie tossing stuff in the cart…”

“No problem,” you smiled. “Happy to take the girls.”

They sang Britney Spears on the top of their lungs the whole drive home and practically hurled themselves into the pool the second they were in the door. You just laughed, going to sit outside to watch them play, bringing your book to keep you occupied. You’d almost survived the first week of summer. You hadn’t caved and tried to fuck Joel again. You could do this. You were almost positive.

***

Joel heard the shriek of girls in the backyard the second his truck door opened. He sighed and shook his head. So Sarah had conned you into having a friend over, even after the party. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. He just hoped to God you weren’t in the pool, too. He didn’t think he could take that.

He was surprised he’d survived as long as he had. He’d missed you the second he left your apartment the day he helped move you in. Regretted cutting things off with you almost instantly. It seemed like the right thing to do but it felt wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this fucking alone.

If Sarah had been at a friend’s house that night, he’d have just shown up at your door. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he couldn’t leave his 10-year-old daughter unsupervised. He wanted to apologize to you, beg you to give him a chance. He’d get down on his knees, he didn’t care.

But just because he wanted that didn’t mean that it was the right thing to do. It would be confusing for Sarah if it didn’t work out - and how could it work out? You were 21 and a college student with a bright future, he was 32 and his life hadn’t been his own in a decade. Sarah had kept him close to home, reminded him of what he should do. What he had to do.

Then, summer started. You were there in the morning as he tried to get out the door, you were there at night when he got home. He knew you weren’t trying to turn him on - if anything, you were avoiding him like the plague. You’d hardly said two words to him since Monday. But your legs in those shorts, your breasts in those dresses, the ribbons you put on the ends of your braids when you were trying to keep your hair off your neck in the heat. You were so soft and sweet and fucking good and there in his house and he knew how it felt to be inside you…

You’d better not be in his fucking pool.

You weren’t. But it was almost worse. You were laid out on a lounge chair on the deck, your back to the door, in white shorts so short he was sure he’d see your ass if you bent over in front of him. Your pale purple tank top clung to you and he could see a hint of a pink bra strap below. You were reading a book in French - because of course you were reading a book in fucking French - and there were ribbons on the ends of your braids. Your nails were pink. He was sure they hadn’t been pink when he saw you this morning. You’d painted your goddamn nails. Why had you painted your goddamn nails?

“Dad!” Sarah clambered out of the pool in the new suit you’d helped her find. You noticed him then, not having realized he’d gotten home. “Thank you so so so so so so so so much, the party was SO fun…”

She threw her wet body against him in a hug.

“Glad you had fun,” he gave her a squeeze and glanced down at you. You were watching him, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, smiling gently. “She behave herself?”

“Of course,” you said, gathering up some scrap paper from the table beside you and putting it in your book. One piece of paper looked like it had a phone number on it. Joel frowned. “It seemed like everyone had a blast, no trouble at the party whatsoever.”

“Good,” Joel said. Whose number did you have? Was it some fucking boy’s? Was that why you’d painted your damn nails? You checked your watch.

“Lizzie’s mom should be here any minute,” you said, getting up from the chair and crossing your arms over your body. Like that was going to stop him from remembering just what you looked like naked. “You’re home a bit earlier than I expected. I can hang out for a bit until she gets here, I don’t want to saddle you with watching an extra kid…”

“No, you go on home,” he waved you off. He couldn’t handle you being here any longer than you had to be. “Get a start on the weekend.”

“You’re sure?” You asked, absently running your fingers over your elbow.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly back at him. “Have a good weekend, Joel.” You looked back to the pool, where Sarah had jumped back in. “Bye Sarah!”

“Bye!” She waved quickly before going back to splashing Lizzie. Joel watched you go until well after you’d closed the front door behind you and he couldn’t see you anymore.

Margie came by to pick up Lizzie not long after you left, both adults required to herd both girls out of the pool.

“Would Sarah want to come sleep over?” Margie asked as the girls giggled and wrote new verses to songs Joel was sure he’d heard coming from the boom box in Sarah’s room.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” he shook his head. “Feels like Sarah’s over at y’all’s place as much as she is here…”

“Honestly, it makes life easier on us,” she smiled. “Sarah’s such a great kid, she keeps Lizzie occupied so I can deal with her brothers. The boys are such a handful… don’t have twins if you can help it, Joel.”

“I’ll try my best,” he smiled. “If you’re really OK with it…”

“Really, you’d be doing me a favor,” she insisted. So Joel gave in. And he was home alone for the first time since he’d slept with you.

He showered and fucked his hand to the memory of making you cum in that shower. He sat on his bed, staring at his phone, telling himself not to call you. He dialed the first four digits of your phone number and then hung up.

After a while, he called Tommy.

“Shit, Joel, everything OK?”

“Why’s something gotta be wrong for me to call?” Joel frowned into the phone.

“Because it’s Friday night and you never fuckin’ call on a Friday night,” Tommy said.

“Well, I’m callin’ on a Friday night,” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You doin’ anything fun tonight?”

“Why?” Joel could hear Tommy’s frown through the phone. “Gonna come drag the party down?”

“No,” he replied. “Sarah’s just at a friend’s house and I was thinking I should actually get out of my house for a change.”

“Hell yeah you should!” Tommy said. “I’m going to go listen to some music, should be just your speed…”

“I could do that,” Joel said. He hadn’t gone to listen to music in a while. That could be fun. It’d get his mind off you, at least.

“I’ll be by in 20, pick you up,” Tommy said, sounding excited. “This will be good for you, Joel. Promise.”

And that’s how Joel ended up at a bar in Austin, watching a bunch of fuckin’ kids tune guitars on a Friday night.

“We’re getting old,” Tommy handed him a bottle of Shiner. “I remember not showing up places like this until after 10. Now it’s not worth the cover charge if we show up that late.”

“Tell me about it,” Joel muttered, taking a swig. “Barely remember ever being that young.”

“When you were that young you had a kid,” Tommy said. Joel snorted. He was right.

They drank and watched as the bar filled up, the band switching to soundcheck not too long after they got there. Joel was actually starting to have fun when the band started playing - they weren’t bad - when he caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He looked instinctively and thought, for half a second, that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren’t. It was you.

You hadn’t seen him yet. You were wearing one of your dresses - one he hadn’t seen before, white and satiny and form fitting, stopping several inches above your knees. You’d put another fucking ribbon in your hair and curled it, making it look so full and soft. He wanted to tangle his fingers in it, he wanted to ruin it. You were wearing sandals with thick heels that made you taller and your legs look longer and there was gloss on your lips - he caught a glimpse of it when you turned to talk to the man next to you. A man who put his hand on your lower back. Fuck.

He guided you to a corner of the room, introduced you to the band waiting to play next. Joel could only see you from behind, the white of your dress reflecting the lights from the stage, the man’s hand slipping around your waist. His pinky drifted down, brushing the top of your ass, his thumb running over your ribs. Joel squeezed the beer bottle so hard he was worried it would break.

“Oh shit, that’s the Kid!” Tommy said, realizing where Joel was looking and getting down from his stool.

“No, wait,” Joel said, but he didn’t catch Tommy in time, his brother pushing through the increasingly crowded bar until he hugged you from behind. Joel could just watch, like a fucking train wreck, as you realized he was there and that Tommy was all but dragging you and your date over to their table. You said your polite goodbyes to the band and turned and said something to your date, your eyebrows knitted together.

“Look who I found!” Tommy said proudly, taking his seat again.

“Hey Joel,” you smiled tightly at him.

“Hey Kid,” he replied, taking a drink of beer. Fuck, your tits in that dress. He wanted to kiss you, starting at your lips and working his way down until his mouth was on your cleavage.

“This is Brad,” you said quickly. “Brad, this Joel. I nanny his daughter, Sarah.”

“Oh, so you’re the boss!” Brad smiled. He was abnormally tall, taller than Joel, with hair that looked like he was trying to be in a fucking boy band. He was all limbs, gangly, clearly never done a day’s hard work in his life. And he was out with you. He held out a hand. “Good to meet you.”

“You too.”

Tommy looked back and forth between you, your date and Joel.

“I need another beer,” he said quickly. “Kid, can I get you something? Joel? Brad?”

“I’ll take a Shiner,” you smiled.

“I’ll come with you,” Brad said, giving you a quick squeeze before looking to Joel. “Look out for my girl for a minute, will ya?”

“Yeah,” Joel said. He took another drink. Tommy and Brad left the table and you watched them go for a moment before turning back to Joel.

“I’m really sorry,” you said quickly, biting your lip. “I had no idea you’d be here, Brad’s roommate’s band is up next but we can go…”

“It’s just a bar, Kid,” Joel shrugged. “No reason for anyone to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” you deflated a bit. “OK. Thanks.”

“Yup,” he said, taking another drink. He needed to be a lot drunker than this. So much drunker than this. You watched the band, your head bobbing in time to the music.

“So you’re his girl now, huh?” Joel said after a moment.

“It’s our first date,” you said, tone sharper than usual. He deserved that. “I don’t know what I am yet.”

“Seems to think you’re his girl,” he replied.

“It’s a figure of speech, Joel.”

“You fucked ‘em yet?” He asked, taking another drink. He did it to be mean. He did it to push you away. He couldn’t just sit here with you this close, not like this. Your mouth fell open for a second before you fixed him with a glare.

“You don’t get to just ask me that,” you snapped. There were tears in your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes that were longer and darker than usual. “You don’t get to judge me for that. Just because you got bored with me doesn’t mean everyone has, I can fuck whoever I want. It’s none of your damn business!”

“One Shiner!” Brad slid his arm back around your waist, handing you one of the beers in his other hand. You took it from him, taking a drink while blinking back your tears. Brad hadn’t noticed but Tommy had, frowning and looking between you and Joel as he wordlessly set another beer in front of his brother.

“Thank you,” you sniffed for a second and smiled up at him before turning back to the table. “I think I want to get up closer to the band, but it was good to see you Tommy, Joel. Have a good weekend, guys.”

You laced your fingers in Brad’s and pulled him behind you toward the stage. Your body disappeared behind his, Brad pressing himself against your back. One of his hands moved around you. Joel didn’t want to think about the parts of you he was touching with that fucking hand.

“What the fuck was that, Joel?” Tommy demanded.

“What was what?” He asked, not looking at him.

“That!” Tommy snapped. “With the Kid! Don’t treat me like I’m a fucking idiot, what happened between you two.”

“Nothin’ happened.”

“Well I know that’s bullshit,” he said. “What happened to ‘she’s off limits?’ Or was that rule just for me?”

“She is off limits,” Joel growled. “She’s especially off limits for me.”

“She know that?” Tommy demanded.

“Drop it, Tommy,” Joel snapped, smacking the beer bottle down on the table with more force than he’d meant to.

“Did you seriously fuck your nanny?” He hissed at him. Joel winced. “Jesus Christ Joel. You’ve got a lot of fuckin�� nerve…”

“I swear to God Tommy I will lay you out,” Joel said. “Don’t fuckin’ tempt me.”

“What’d you do, convince her you loved her and then bail?” He asked. “Doubt a sweet girl like that woulda just jumped in bed with the dad of one of the kids she looks after, so what’d you tell her?”

“Tommy,” Joel growled.

“Was it before or after you told me she was off limits?” He demanded. “You worried I’d actually do right by her and she’d get wise to your shit? Just how drunk’d you have to get her to get her into bed with you?”

Joel snapped. He stood up so fast the stool flew to the ground with a crash and he punched Tommy across the cheek, sending the younger man sprawling into the table next to him. It was like the whole bar froze. The band stopped playing, an eerie silence falling. Joel flexed his hand as his brother staggered back to his feet, holding his face.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel,” he said, breathless.

Joel looked up and immediately found your face in the crowd around the stage. Brad’s arms were around you, holding you back. Your eyes were wide, your mouth open in shock. Or maybe horror. He couldn’t quite tell.

“C’mon man,” a bouncer grabbed Joel’s shoulder but he shrugged it off.

“It’s cool,” Tommy glared at Joel as he said it. “Just my brother. He’s a dick. We’re goin’.”

Joel walked straight past Tommy’s truck, shoving the hand he’d hit him with in his pocket.

“Where the fuck you goin’ asshole?” Tommy yelled after him. Joel ignored him. Tommy ran and caught him, his hand on his shoulder pulling him around to face him. Joel got ready to punch him again but Tommy’s hands went up. “Don’t make this worse than it is. You want some meddling asshole to call the fuckin’ cops?”

Joel dropped his fist, glaring at his brother.

“You made a goddamn fool out of yourself,” he said, his cheek already bruising. “And you fuckin’ deserved it. The hell were you thinking, messing with that girl?”

Joel didn’t say anything, just went back and climbed in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck.

The drive to Joel’s was silent and he hoped that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Tommy followed him inside, either stupid as hell or itching for a fight.

“What happened, Joel?” He asked, voice calm for the first time since the bar. “With you and her.”

“Sarah was at a friend’s place,” he said, voice pained. “We had some wine… Fuck, Tommy, I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Shit,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. “When was this?”

“Few weeks back,” Joel muttered.

“And she’s still working for you?” Tommy asked. Joel just nodded. “And nothing’s happened since?”

“No,” Joel said.

“Because you’re not interested?” He asked. Joel glared at him. “Yeah, thought that might be the case.”

“Don’t matter how I feel about it,” he sighed. “She’s too young, too big a future ahead of her to get bogged down with me. And Sarah… Sarah fuckin’ loves her. I couldn’t ruin that for her just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants and I…”

Joel went quiet.

“And you what.”

“I think… I think I love her, Tommy,” Joel groaned. “I just want her here all the damn time. Want to hear her voice and see her things and smell her hair. I want her leaving her fuckin’ hair in my damn shower every day, I kept finding it for days after and I miss it. Keep hoping I’ll find more sometime. And that guy… He didn’t seem bad, not like that last fuckin’ guy but I don’t trust him, don’t trust any of them, not with her.”

“You can’t live like this, Joel,” Tommy said quietly. “Obviously. You can’t just go punching people because you’re a jealous asshole. You either need to get away from her entirely - which means cutting her out of Sarah’s life, too - or you need to figure your shit out. Either get over her or get with her - if she’ll still have you.”

Tommy stood up, clapping Joel on the shoulder.

“Sorry I hit you,” Joel muttered.

“Rather get punched in the face than deal with the shit you’ve got goin’ on,” Tommy smiled a bit. “You’ll get it together.”

“Thanks.”

He walked him out, locking the door behind him.

Joel wasn’t any calmer when Tommy left. He paced the living room for a bit before stepping out back, staring down at the pool, the place he’d stood the first time he’d kissed you. You were so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite as happy as that night, felt quite so right with the world. He knew he should regret it but he couldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to regret a damn thing when it led to touching you.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, going back inside and grabbing his keys.

He made it to your place in less than 10 minutes, driving faster than he should have. Your car was in the lot but that didn’t mean much if you were still out with that guy. Or - fuck - what if you’d brought him back here. Didn’t matter, he’d made up his mind. If the guy was in your apartment, he wouldn’t punch him. It’d be hard, but he wouldn’t.

He took the stairs up to your door two at a time and started knocking before he came to a stop in front of it. But there was no response. He tried knocking again. Nothing.

Joel leaned out over the railing, around to where the windows to your apartment would be. All the lights looked to be off. So you were still out with Brad. Maybe you’d gone back to his place. After what he’d said to you that night, he wouldn’t blame you.

He sat down, back against the wall next to your door, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the siding. He closed his eyes. He’d just be here when you got home. You’d have to come home sometime. He could wait. For you, he had all the time in the world.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait that long. He heard you before he saw you.

“It was nuts, Cass,” you were trying to be quiet as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. “I don’t know what the hell happened. I tried to explain it to Brad but I have no idea what he thinks. Probably that my boss is insane…”

You were at the top of the stairs now, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, a small orange and white Whataburger cup clutched tight in the other. You stared at Joel for a second.

“Cass?” You said, still staring at him as he got to his feet. “Call you in the morning.”

You flipped the phone shut, putting it in your bag and getting out your keys, watching Joel the whole time like you thought he was a wild animal who could do something unhinged at any moment. Which, he figured, was fair.

“You’ve got some nerve,” you said, keeping your eyes on him as you went to your door and put the keys in the deadbolt, stopping short of opening it.

“I know,” he said. “Can we talk?”

You watched him for a moment before you sighed and opened your door, welcoming him in.

#joel miller x reader smut #joel x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #fanfic #smut fic #joel miller x you #angst

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blushweddinggowns · 1 month

Text

Robin sat right down, sighing, “So what? We all live in the woods and hope the kids find us?”

“They will,” Steve reassured, “Lucas is probably getting help as we speak. Besides, it’s not that cold out. We’ll be fine. And if they don’t find us, we’ll find them.”

Nancy nodded, despite the fact that she was already shivering. But Steve noticed. He didn’t even hesitate to take his own jacket off.

She frowned, as he draped it over her shoulders, “But what about you?”

“I have a sweater and an Eddie blanket,” Steve smiled, “I'll be just fine.”

“Speaking of that…” Eddie trailed in, “How about Steve and I go a little bit away and keep watch?”

Chrissy knew Jason was losing it, but she was 100 percent confident he was busy dealing with his murdered friend. She frowned, “Do you really think they’ll come after watching their friend die-”

“Yeah, you two go do that,” Robin interrupted with a sigh. She turned to Chrissy, “They want to make-out and save us the headache. We’re almost certain to be good for the night.”

“We'll be back soon,” Steve said, a slight flush to his cheeks but he didn’t correct her, “And we won’t go far.”

“Within an hour,” Nancy warned, “And keep quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said flippantly, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “You won’t even miss us.”

They walked away into the darkness, leaning into each other as they went. Chrissy was pretty sure she saw Steve stick his hand into Eddie’s back pocket before they were out of sight.

“It’s actually insane that they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Robin said as she watched them go, “I only found out because I saw them shoving tongues in a parking lot. But once you know, you can never unsee it.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner,” Chrissy sighed as she sat to Robin’s left, Nancy taking the right, “Did they really trick all of you?”

“All of us,” Nancy confirmed through a yawn, “They can actually be pretty sneaky when they want to be. They just never want to be.”

Nancy rested her head against Robin’s shoulder, Steve’s jacket wrapped tightly around her, “We should sleep.”

“We will,” Robin said quietly, “But don’t wait for us. Go right ahead.”

Nancy gave her a little smile, “If you say so.”

It barely took a few minutes for her to be completely out. She looked so peaceful, so much younger when she was asleep. Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was a small girl, but she had so much presence.

“She looks so much bigger when she's awake,” Chrissy mumbled quietly, “Like she can take on the world.”

“She probably could,” Robin laughed, “I think it’s all personality.”

“I know. I wish I could be like that.”

“Why?” Robin asked, furrowing her brow, “You’re literally perfect.”

Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at that, “How on Earth am I perfect?”

But Robin didn’t look like she was joking, “Dude you are. You’re so sweet and fun. You’re talented, athletic, pretty, but still nice somehow. You’re brave as hell, if this whole scenario stands for anything. And you’re hot when you punch dudes in the face.”

That was almost too sweet for Chrissy to hear. But she couldn’t help but zero in on one thing, “You think I’m hot?”

Robin froze, opening and closing her mouth as she stuttered, “I-No? I mean, yes? I-objectively yes. Not creepily.”

Chrissy smiled, her heart beating a little faster at the implication. But… Jason. She felt so bad for him. After what he’d seen, it made sense to blame them. But it only made sense now. There was no framework to understand what was happening before and to just blame Eddie and Nancy for everything was ridiculous. She’d never seen him like that before, so out of sorts. He was so good at keeping his temper undercheck, she didn’t get what was happening to him.

But… she had been pretty clear hadn’t she? She didn’t leave with him, she never even tried. She told him to go home, that she didn’t need him, she didn’t want him. It… it was close enough to a break-up wasn’t it? Chrissy wasn’t sure. Though she had a feeling even thinking of things the way she was made her a bad person.

It just didn’t stop her from blurting, “I-I count tonight as breaking up with Jason. Just so you know. We um, we were never that close but my mom- she likes his family a-and… he used to be nice. He is nice but he’s… it doesn’t matter. We aren’t together. Just um, so you know. If you didn’t.”

She wanted to say more but… Chrissy could only be so brave in one day.

“I was um,” Robin swallowed, her face already red, “I was hoping that was the case. Because you deserve to be happy and I don’t…. I don't think he could do that.”

“He couldn’t,” Chrissy said softly, inching her fingers slowly to intertwine with Robin’s. She felt okay, as okay as she could be with the circumstances-

“Mmph!”

Chrissy nearly jumped at the sudden noise, the only saving grace was that she definitely recognized it as Eddie’s voice.

“Are they okay?” Chrissy asked nervously, staring out into the darkness. But Robin didn’t seem worried, she just gave Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“I wouldn't check if I were you,” Robin sighed, “If they get loud again I'll throw a rock in their general direction. But they are fine. Trust me.”

from the newest chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harrington #the universe trapped in your skin #steddie childhood friends au #fic excerpt

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satantica · 1 year

Text

someone hitting on you - with haikyu boys pt.2

characters: bestfriend!atsumu, neighbor!bokuto

cw: fem!reader

bestfriend!atsumu

The party you went to with Tsumu wasn’t that bad at first. It was the Miya blonde one who left to get you drinks and had been gone for 15 minutes now. You weren’t up to the idea of going here and it was Atsumu who made you change your mind. Not feeling extremely sociable or talkative you were thinking of how lame it was to be just awkwardly standing here all alone just waiting for your bestfriend.

“Hey, wanna get a drink?” a tall brunette approached you. “So you would use it as an excuse for disappearing? No, thanks” your anger was rising. That was just perfect. Now you have to deal with a complete stranger because someone didn’t bother to remember about you.

“Woah, easy. I don’t know what a moron you should be to leave such a beautiful girl all by herself. I’m Chris by the way.” You finally noticed that Chris was even kind of cute. “Yeah, sorry about that. I went here only because of my friend he left for drinks and now he’s gone. Not even answering my texts.” You sounded more upset now than furious. It was actually pathetic.

“Well, let’s get you these drinks. I can’t let this beauty be wasted on sadness.” Chris’ smile started to fade away as you felt someone’s arm on your shoulders.

Miya was smiling charmingly and looking straight at the brunette “Who’s that fella, baby?” You wanted to answer with all the curses you’ve known but Tsumu moved his hand to your waist without any hesitation, not letting you to say anything.

“Oh, so you have a boyfriend.” Chris didn’t look very disappointed as he was acknowledging that. “Yeah, and a very handsome one as you can see.” Atsumu pulled you closer leaving you shocked with every move of his. It really was his way of ordering you to shut up.

“So tell me, handsome boyfriend, how come your cute girl was standing all alone here? Or is disappearing your love language?” Chris certainly wasn’t careful with words. You knew that Miya won’t let that go and you finally started to speak “I don’t—“. Tsumu laughed. He fucking laughed. You thought he was drunk or insane. Not really a big difference.

“Dude, I can’t really tell now if you’re flirting with me or trying to pick a fight” Tsumu was calm. Suspiciously calm. That wasn’t good. Chris was definitely accepting his call “Can you fight though? You know, I can’t hit a child.”

You thought this party couldn’t get more lame but these guys found a way. “Fuck off. Both of you. Wanna find out who’s the alpha male? Go ahead. I’m not participating in measuring your dicks. God.” You threw off Miya’s hand and stormed out.

Tsumu followed you but then suddenly took a few steps back. Atsumu slowly in a victorious manner glanced at the brunette saying “See, that’s what happens when you bother a girl way out of your league.”

neighbor!bokuto

You were returning home from practice exhausted as hell. Next to your door was a guy fixing his bike. He clearly sucked at this. The struggle on his face reminded of your own. Your bike broke down once an that would’ve kept you forever to fix if it wasn’t for Bokuto.

«Hey, you need a hand with that?” you couldn’t smile cause of all tiredness but tried to say it in the friendliest way possible.

“Hi! Yeah, sorry to bother. I just tried to make it work but the things just got worse somehow.” You smirked a bit “Tell me about it.”

After a little while you were all done. “See, that wasn’t so hard.” You pointed at the wheel all fixed up. “I think it’s just your magic power. How can I thank you?” the guy was looking with a strange hope in the eyes. “That’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

You turned to your house and heard “Can I ask you of one more thing?” You turned back to the guy. “I can’t not thank you. Maybe you would like to join me for diner?” The man was waiting for the answer. You were at your most polite “I’m sorry I’m not really into romantic things right now.”

You heard a bike riding your way as the guy was saying “Can I get your number then?” You looked in the direction of the coming bike with the familiar figure. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea.” As you ended the sentence bike drifted right between you and the guy leaving the black track of tires.

Bokuto took off his helmet and smiled at you in the happiest way. “Hey, Yn!! Did you see what I just did??!” Koutarou has always liked to hear words of admiration or approval from you. But this time was just perfect. “Yes, Kou. Will you teach me that move?” The guy was still standing behind Bokuto and apparently felt left out. “So, you two are like together?”

Koutarou frowned and turned his way. “Who are you?” You rushed to answer his question “This is just a guy I helped with his bike.” Bokuto looked at the guy again “Uhm.” Koutarou quickly smiled and turned the head your way “So is your mom still waiting me for the diner? Cause I’m veeeryyyy hungry and I missed your clean room a lot.”

The guy finally took a hint “Looks like I’d better go.” You and Bokuto watched him riding away when Koutarou said “Sooo, what’s his deal?” You glanced at Bo and tried to decide if you should answer in the tricky way or in the normal one “He wanted to get my number.”

Koutarou was surprised, then confused and then finally got it “Sorry, shortie, it took so long. If I knew I would’ve run him over.” You laughed at the unexpected statement “Okay-okay, biker, easy.” Bokuto looked a bit offended “I can’t give you to some loser who can’t fix his own bike. And I bet he would’ve stolen your mom who makes the best turkey in the world if he had a chance. Soo, are we going or not?? I. am. hungry.”

#haikyu x reader #haikyu!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #miya atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu miya #atsumu x female reader #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutaro x y/n #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq koutarou #bokuto kotaro

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helluva-dump · 6 months

Text

Yeah I think I am officially done with the Helluva boss critical community… for good.

Before you guys flip your shit and accuse me of being a Stan, let me explain.

So I deleted my tumblr app and decided just to refreshen my mind and focus on other things. (Like my art, my own possible indie project, ect ) and being away for a while… it kind of made me realize how much of the critical community was becoming too much for my mental health.

Originally, I joined because season 2 disappointed with season 2, didn’t like how Vivziepop retconned things like the pilot, the possible workplace allegations, and of course… the fandom being super toxic as hell work promoting toxic positivity.

But holy shit…. Somehow the critical community is even worse than the fandom.

Like I swear nobody talks about what’s wrong with this community. I’ve seen blogs have such an unhealthy hatred to Viv where they post nonstop about her… it’s insane. Like when making account names “wah I hate Vivziepop”

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t think all critical blogs act like this. I do in fact still follows few, only thing is the ones I follow don’t constantly whine and bitch all the time and actually do critique. And these reblogs I follow just do AUs, rewrites, and redesigns which to me I will always see as harmless fun since that’s what I wanna do.

As for the other half of criticals…. Hell, these people legit get mad and share screenshots making fun of fans with different opinions. Like, bruh, didn’t you guys get angry at stans for doing that to y’all? You guys are literally doing the exact same thing. And no I’m not talking about sharing screenshots of toxic fans that attack former employees and make excuses for a questionable workplace…. But like they’ll just mock fans that didn’t do anything bad.

I’m all for critiquing a fandom and there are Stans that have such an unhealthy parasocial relationships with Viv… but somehow I see people acting the same with their unhealthy hate obsession. Literally going through her IG and bitching and moaning…

Seeing people making assumptions about her and Gooseworks with the glitch x as well as Tracy just shows me how unhealthy this hate is becoming.

Yes, Viv and Tracy had a bit of a heated thing on Twitter. However, I don’t think it’s fair to assume she’s this evil evil hellspawn that’s plotting to destory glitch x. “She’s kissing ass to goodeworks with her fake smile” dude she’s probably a fan of their works, you really don’t know that.

Also, while I’m aware of the allegations concerning Salem (who I hope really recovers and they did really make this episode the best IMO)… it’s probably not fair to assume all employees get treated the same way… the only people that seem to know what went down are Erin, Ken, Salem, and Ashley Nicolas. Do I think the workplace abuse is possible? Yes, it’s why I haven’t bought any merch.

BUT the reason why I don’t like to discuss things like this is because half of the other stuff seems like flimsy evidence besides Salem’s vents. And I think it’s a bit risky to spread such misinformation and make assumptions. (One blog I’ve seen had so many anons sharing rumors and just go along with them which to me is dangerous…)

Like when the new episode aired, unlike everyone else, I actually loved it. This recent episode was so great it’s what I wanna see more of for Helluva boss. But eh… I noticed some haters bitch for the sake of it. Now, some of the critiques aren’t too bad, I did notice some flaws and I understand the concerns for salem. But like other half it’s just bitching for the sake of it…

Also I heard rumors how the deranged stalker fan of Fizz is a parody of critical blogs… tbh I highly doubt that because that trope always existed in cartoons (like Aggrestuko had one too) but considering a good chunk of “criticals” have a hate boner for viv, can you blame some fans for thinking that?

I really don’t like how the critical community became the anti community. Because not every critical person is an anti, I don’t even wanna fuck with that shit and I don’t ever wanna resort to that.

Hell, they drove one critical blog I loved away… over a bad miscommunication.🙃 and that blog was right, you don’t wanna make friends with this community with how some toxic people are.

Also I’ve been drawing a lot of Hazbin hotel stuff for my Heaven AU and it reminded me why I enjoyed Vivziepop’s ideas and stories so much. It somehow was helping me take edge away from my mental health.

I think it’s possible to still be a fan without labeling yourself as a stan or anti. That’s why I made this blog for. I was so worn out by the toxic positivity of the fandom, so this is my comfort space. But now I need to cut the critical community away since it’s now full of toxic negativity.

And as I said, I do plan to make an indie cartoon series and I feel like being part of this critical community is NOT gonna make me professional on my end. That being said, I don’t like Viv as she said things that rubbed me the wrong way BUT I’m not gonna let that kill my joy for Hazbin hotel.(and Helluva boss to an extent) I do think she has good ideas and they CAN work but she does need more writers than animators to help her execute them.

That’s why I’m only a bit more excited for Hazbin hotel lately

Now I’m not angry at anyone who followed me. I just wanna make some boundaries, and that being said, I’m still gonna critique both shows. However, I’m just gonna tag these posts as HH/HB critiques than HH/HB critical for now on. I feel like that’s more professional and more genuine if you wanna share opinions on stuff.

Just wanna get this off my chest, it’s what I wanted to express for a while.

And if fans come across this blog, don’t be afraid to interact I won’t bite. Everyone has their different opinions. I only have an issue with Stans that promote toxic positivity and dismiss employees that were treated badly is all.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #for now on #I wanna restart fresh #and I don’t want antis and Stans to interact with me #you guys need to touch grass with your obsession with viv #it’s hella creepy

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comfortfoodcontent · 2 months

Text

2024 X-Men #35 cover by Pepe Larraz

2019-2024 - RIP Krakoa Era X-Men

I love this cover. The art is amazing. It marks the end of the Krakoa era X-Men. It's been on my mind a lot lately and I had to get some thoughts out on it. If you know me, if you ever followed me or my comics site or whatever, you know I was a very loud, very big fan of the Krakoa era at the start, basically up until X of Swords and Hickman's decision to leave. It's finally ending.

2019-2024 - RIP Krakoa Era X-Men

But truthfully it may as well be 2019-2019 -RIP Krakoa Era X-Men. It pretty much failed from the start. I loved HoxPox when it dropped. It was, embarrassing to say now, life changing for me. I thought Hickman was a genius and had found a way to reinvigorate the line and render death as a cheap storytelling gimmick useless. A bunch of my faves were being used and ressurected. I was happier than a pig in shit. I joined Twitter and all the insane X-Fans on there. I started a website and a podcast dedicated to comics. Soon the Covid pandemic started. I was terminally online, my brain rot started and grew worse by the day. It was an insane wild ride that started high and died soon thereafter.

It's hard for me to separate my pretentious Comfort Food Comic media brand time with the pretentious Krakoan Era. Both started out so happily, so full of potential and optimism. To run a site or a podcast in these hellish times you must also play the social media game. Constantly be on there, constantly push your product. Being on Twitter during that time and being part of the X-Community, you start to see how much being on social media fucks you up. You constantly feel like you need to have an opinion on everything, and that it actually matters. You need to be a critic to every piece of media, every decision, every little thing someone says or posts. You lose your grasp on reality, the real world, how to function and interact like a normal human being not stuck hidden behind a screen with your dual public twitter profile and private locked one (something I'm glad to say I never stooped to). It brings you attention. It brings you friends. It pushes your product or brand. It gives you validation and the dopamine rush. It's an addicting, disgusting, fake as hell experience. I was fully caught up in it. It didn't help that I was quarantining and barely leaving my house for a few years. It got me through the pandemic but it also left me so much worse than when I started. Much like how the Krakoan Era treated the X-Men franchise.

Why am I talking about social media so much when I started with X-Men? Well, it felt like this era of publishing went hand in hand with what was being put into the comics. Every creator was constantly on Twitter interacting with fans, always seeing what they had to say. Even Hickman was on there. Dude just wanted to post photos from movies and talk about like what Gen X members he liked. He eventually left because insane X-Men fans wanted him to talk about George Floyd and compare real world race issues with some superhero comics and weigh in, OH GOD WHY ISNT HE WEIGHING IN PUBLICALLY??. It was really weird how fans dealt with that one. Vita Ayala, Tini Howard, Leah Williams - constantly interacting with fans, friends with many of them. A pretty cool thing really, but that shit started influencing their comics throwing in characters or scenes specifically to make some X-Men fan they know on Twitter squee real loud. Shatterstar is not your favorite AEW wrestler. We do not need a book of human X-Men fans who pretend to be mutants influenced by dorky X-Men fans online. We do not need longtime villain Apocalypse to become our "Blue Dad". Jordan White should be editing or at the very least reading any old X-Men comics instead of being on Twitter. We don't need to know what the X-Writers do on their Slack, or worse, what X-fans do on their own incestuous Slack. Gerry Duggan, a writer I loved and thought could do no wrong, joined this group and upped his Twitter usage and the brain rot commenced and his work was so influenced by it. I'll never forget when white people started using fuck around and find out on Twitter and then it was in like 3 of his books the next month. My point in this ramble is the books were being influenced by and written for the loudest X-Men fans on Twitter. The art was dead. The books were a product made in that echo chamber for that echo chamber. They got bad real fast because of our society's addiction to social media these days.

Now that the honeymoon phase is over and I've revisited a lot of these books I do still feel HoXPoX was a wonderful series, one of the best X-Men series, masterfully executed and a perfect jumping off point with so much to explore. I also see the usual Hickman faults. The my series starts some time later, not really addressing anything prior to it that all his books share, the insanely detailed long term plans that he nor the comics business machine will actually follow through on after a year or so, and the shadowy superior group of power that exists in all of his comics. The Moira retcon, while brilliant, quickly falls apart when they never develop her further, or deal with the fact Xavier and Magneto went on to have an entire publishing history knowing what amounts to their entire future until the Krakoa Age must be established. That never really worked and was ignored by the creators and fans alike, including me. So it never really worked from the jump.

Rather than keep the line condensed and maybe just let Hickman write his own story, they expand it out from there involving a bunch of different creators and new ongoings. Plenty of series to explore the ramifications of these retcons, the perceived ethnostate the mutants have established and their abandoning of the coexistent dream the X-Men always fought for, grappling with identity and what it means when death no longer matters, and the conflicts that would arise from having all these villains live with them now. Sadly we instead basically just got Utopia 2.0. Surface level shit where the mutants are on an island surviving that rarely ever went in on all the amazing story ideas we could have explored. But hey certain fans were happy because they could go "Hey Synch is here for a few panels!" or "this horrific out of character gladiator death ceremony is TOTALLY the same thing as my real life transitional phase". Nobody really wanted to question any of this in the comics or in real life. And hey sour grapes aside, we did get some cool stories and some fun character interactions and moments, mostly in the Hickman books. But even from the start, some of it is horrible, more of the same schlock - Fallen Angels a great example, or Hickman's more boring Giant Size issues or his Shi'ar issue, or half of every other title. What should have been being explored or dealt with in the text often went ignored and we got X-Men being superheroes or Otherworld nonsense, which at the time I ate up because I'm such a fan of the old Captain Britain material. Sadly that never really went anywhere either, just making nebulous dimensions that were out there somewhere, don't question it LOOK IT'S JIM JASPERS! ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED! Even things that should have been celebrated like Betsy and Rachel pushing through Gal Pals territory to being together felt largely flat and hollow and forced rather than natural or fun. And that was a common theme as it kept going. Everything felt forced, felt wrong, the writing felt amateurish and simple as it ignored more major issues or reasons to exist. Things just seemed to start happening for no real story reasons. No real further development or exploration. A ton of plots don't make sense as established history and characterization is thrown out the window. Nothing really matters. Rockslide is ruined forever just because. Arrako will never REALLY make sense, Loa and Mercury are psychopathic sex fiends, Pixie of all people is a callous death pervert, Banshee is a Ghost Rider, Warlock's doing something, Colossus joins the Quiet Council and just sits there, Children of the Atom is designated a "red" important book and does nothing of value or import, Moira gets pissy so she turns into a no shades of gray villain robot who skins her soul mate and wears his skin and joins Orchis, mutants are fucking so much and I guess just quickly going to term and they just abandon countless babies in the forest, Anole and a few others are brainless dolts who love the Shadow King, Onslaught is bouncing around, there's an old X-23, Synch is now the best and can recall any power ever magically but never talks to any member of his old team or deals with his death, Inferno as a whole essentially just didn't happen or matter, Sinister isn't Sinister at all he's a clone and there's 3 more of them, Casandra Nova is on a team, Doug knows secrets, Magneto buys a lighthouse, characters are randomly and indiscriminately put into The Pit, Shaw and Selene are maybe the only two villains ever that get examined in a way where maybe they shouldn't be buddy buddy with the X-Men - I need to stop now before I get more angry and depressed but I could go on and on and on. Point is things got bad. Like a ton of this was just bad writing and bad comics. I'm sorry. I get it. I was blinded too. I ignored things. I made my own head canons. I focused on the good stuff.

By the time Hickman actually announces he is leaving, things are already falling apart due to him and Marvel deciding to expand and stretch this shit out instead of just letting him do his shit and end it as a complete story or era. He does Inferno which as I said did nothing and didn't matter. It's good but it's a big ball of nothing. From there the books get worse and worse. Duggan's superhero X-Men book is fluff. Nearly every other series declines more and more. Hellions is a fun dark comedy, but sloppy and lacking that depth and exploration. Al Ewing's work tries hard to reach those Hickman highs and I found myself quite enjoying his work on SWORD and later on X-Men Red but mainly because it all ends up divorced from Krakoa as part of his larger Marvel Cosmic work, with great characterization. I really dig that work and it's common theme is really how off to the side not involved it is.

Later writers, including some real Literal Whos? and pretentious "novel authors" further dilute the line with their less talented work(I like Steve Orlando as a person but I desperately wish he'd try harder to write actual stories instead of being a human youtube video that summarizes obscure 90's comic characters for modern day zoomers). Kieron Gillen, bless him, tries to be the new Hickman and he does have some of the best Krakoa era material, but even he starts failing pretty badly. Sins of Sinister was a clusterfuck of boring nonsense for people who want to seem or sound smart, same goes for this current Dominion plot.

Looking at the art now I'm struck by how none of these characters are TRULY changed from this era, let alone had a lasting or defining story. It's crazy to me we went 5 whole years with this and really what has changed, ESPECIALLY with the current Orchis wrap-up story. X-Men fight some nasty humans who don't like them. We're back to that ALREADY. We aren't getting to the end of the Krakoan Era, we've been in it for quite some time. As I look at this art I see only 3 wholly new characters, which they'll be lucky if they are used after this. One of them is Pogg-Ur Pogg, a perfect example of this era. A big Aligator man, not much thought behind it, that fans LOVED. Sadly, he wasn't actually an alligator man. It was all a fakeout. That was some suit a little boring gremlin wore. A little boring gremlin. Nothing unique, nothing fun. Same old shit you've seen in thousands of comics. That's what the Krakoa Era was. Something that seemed SO DAMN COOL, SO DAMN THOUGHT OUT, but really it didn't have much thought behind it. It was a flashy suit of potential hiding the same old gremlin you've always seen. Even after the eternally online creators saw how popular he got, they didn't change any of this, they just thought we've got it. The suit/gremlin thing is good. It wasn't and they tried to bring it back for further stories but it was so lame at this point it was pathetic. Much like the repeated attempts to salvage and course correct after Hickman.

So here we are at the end. I can't believe I'm actually THANKFUL it is ending. That I actually want to regress and return to the X-Men as superheroes fighting their villains again. I've been rereading old X-books and I crave that big, bold excitement of what truly made the X-Men superhero team work. It's such a bummer and such a failure of execution with so many to blame. What DISGUSTS me so much is already seeing fans eulogize this era as perfection that was cut short by Marvel and not a fun experiment that was botched from the start. I'm with you, I was the biggest believer and supporter at the start. I joined Twitter, I examined every panel, made countless threads of discussion, debated and discussed every little thing with fellow fans. I wanted so much for this to be what it could be. Please, examine it honestly and critically. It's a failure. It's time to pull the plug.

It's ironic to me that I deleted my Twitter this year, the Krakoan age having the same amount of life my Twitter fandom life did. It went from such excitement and fun to soul sucking everyday nonsense. It seems fitting and emblematic of what this age was and turned into. This era, just like Twitter which influenced it so much, is/was a stupid, ugly, brain rotted mess dotted with sparing gold with the unrealized potential for so much more. I for one, welcome it.

Peace Out Krakoa Era, you won't be missed.

#krakoa #krakoa era #x-men #mutants #me #my writing #writing #comics #comic books #marvel #marvel comics #pepe larraz

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