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luv4kozume · 2 months

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🎯 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐎 — MATT STURNIOLO

— # ❝ 𝐈'𝐦𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 ! ❞ 🎧 ₊˚⊹

Cowboy!Matt x Cowgirl!Black!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, lowkey fuckboy!matt, mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby), oral m!receiving, cum eating, fingering, praise, teasing, riding, rebound sex, public(ish) sex, drunk sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you forget all about your ex after meeting Matt at a costume party.

Word Count: 3,916

💋 — Requested: “can you do a matt smut with a black reader where he sees her at a party and they fuck🙏”

a/n: SAVE A HORSE…. RIDE A WHAT?!?! Also I’m not the fanfic police, you can read no matter what you are, I keep my writing pretty general. Just followed the prompt for the request!! ENJOY BABIES!! 💋💋

Other song mentioned: Killin’ You Hoes by Trina 🤭

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

OCTOBER 31, 2024 ₊˚⊹

“YOU SEE THE OUTFIT, BITCH?” Your friend screamed at the top of her lungs as her acrylics wrapped around the steering wheel, whipping the vehicle around the corner. Nearly scraping her rims against the curb in the process, as she sped down the neighborhood to the tempo of Trina’s song. “CUTE FACE AND ASS SWOLL!”

Your palm flattened against your stomach, your face twisting up in discomfort as you peered out the car window. Your stomach churned with anxiety, but not from your friend’s reckless driving. You had grown accustomed to that.

No, it was something else entirely.

“Girl, what’s the matter? You’re not even finishing the lyrics.” She asks, her tone still high as she turned down the music.

The glitter from her cat-like makeup shimmered against her toned cheeks, the amber streetlights carving out her soft features.

“Nothing.” You lie, turning around to face her. She gave you a side eye before bringing her attention back to the road.

“You’re not still hung up over that bum ass dude, right?” She scoffed in a half joking tone.

You hesitated before answering her question. Had you made it that obvious?

Yes, it may have been true that the only reason why you were all dressed up and going out to this party tonight was because she practically dragged you out of bed.

Your now, ex-boyfriend, dumped you without any sort of warning not to long ago and you hadn’t been the same since. It was a struggle being productive everyday, let alone being social with others.

Your original plans for Halloween were to stay inside and pass out candy to the little kids that came to visit. But your friend quickly shut that “lame-ass” idea down— her words, not yours. You just hadn’t seen the point in doing anything else.

In fact, your costume choice had her name written all over it. You would never in a million years wear this shit, but she successfully picked your brain.

Your eyes glanced down to the bright buckle of your leather belt as your fingers nervously looped under the sleeves of your red flannel. A brown cowgirl hat to match, that annoyingly pressed against the car’s seat each time you’d move.

“No.” You huffed out, rolling your eyes. You had already heard enough of her lectures this week, you were certainly not in the mood for another. Especially since this was supposed to be your night to forget all about him.

“Good. Because I’m gonna tell you right now, I don’t wanna hear shit about him.” A playful smile pulling at her lips, glancing over at your every so often. “Besides, you might even meet someone here.”

“I doubt that.” You sigh, a faint smile spreading across your face.

*ೃ༄

It wasn’t long before you started to feel overwhelmed and slightly agitated. Not even ten minutes into the party, your friend darted straight to the alcohol and slipped in between a group of sketchy looking guys. You watched her from the couch, wishing to not get entangled in that mess.

You only agreed to come out with her tonight because she claimed it help you get your mind off your current situation. But now you were stranded alone in a strange house on Halloween night— left with nothing but the thoughts of your ex swarming in your head.

You blew a raspberry, peering down at your red solo cup that was practically still full. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls and echoing in your head, causing ripples to form in your drink.

You grabbed your phone that buzzed in your pocket. Squinting at the overwhelming brightness before lowering it to read a text from her that appeared on your screen.

bestie bae 💗

I think that guy in the cowboy hat likes you.

Hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. 👀

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, scanning the crowd of various bodies for the vague description she gave you. Nearly giving up, you just assumed she was tipsy and pulling shit out of her ass. Until you made eye contact with him.

He stood leaning against the wall talking to some other guy. One hand buried into the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding a beer in his hand. A smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced over at you. His eyes pierced right through you as if you were transparent, before turning his eyes back to the other man.

His ears were pierced, the silver jewelry shining in the party lights. His sleeves of his red flannel rolled up to his forearms, a trail of dark hair decorating them lightly. Finally, a black cowboy hat rested on top of his head, his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead.

Your heart fluttered when his eyes shot back at yours for the second time, now eyeing you up and down. His gaze felt like he was slowly undressing you, peeling your costume off inch by inch to get to the most delectable parts.

You squirmed in the cushions of the couch, pressing your thighs together. Maybe it was the cognac, maybe it was the party atmosphere, or maybe it was just him— you couldn’t decipher the exact cause but one thing was for certain; you were most definitely attracted to this man.

You turn away, finally breaking the eye contact from the stranger. Darting them down to your phone to answer her text, but you couldn’t even send your message through before being interrupted by her new one. Warning you that he was coming your way.

“Hey.” He spoke, his tone low and raspy. Sending shivers down your spine. He stood over you confidently, forcing you to look up at him with those round, innocent eyes of yours.

“Hi.” You mumble, shutting your phone off and placing it on your lap.

“I’m Matt.” He revealed, claiming his spot on the empty couch right next to you. His thigh pressing against yours as he manspread, you couldn’t help but take a glance down to his groin.

“Y/N.” You reply, nearly inaudible due to the music still blasting throughout the house. But he didn’t mind, in fact he loved your shyness. It gave him all the more confidence to take leadership. And besides, he knew exactly how the quiet ones were like in bed.

Butterflies swarmed in the pit of your stomach, feeling the warmth of his body heat rush towards you as he leaned over to align his lips up to your ear.

The bass of the music pumping in your chest as you could smell the alcohol on his breath, slightly giving his speech a seductive slur, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here—” He started, bringing his palm down to your bare legs, gently caressing the plush skin of your thigh, “—all alone?”

You had to exhale a breath in order to answer his question. You grabbed onto his bicep, leaning in towards his ear to whisper back, “Trying to get over an ex.”

“He dumped you?” Matt replied in mere shock.

You could only nod in response, mortified to admit that out loud to anyone that wasn’t your friend.

“What a fucking idiot.” He spat out. “Who would drop a girl like you?”

A faint smile appearing across your face, giving him a playful shrug, “He did apparently.”

A devious grin pulled at the corners of his lips, the same one from just a few moments before. Something sinful on his mind, mentally debating if he should even throw the idea out there.

But of course, his thoughts took over. He just couldn’t help himself, he would always be there for a sweet damsel in distress. And there you were, sitting so helplessly on the couch just begging to be ruined.

“Wanna take this upstairs, so I can show you how much he fucked up?”

*ೃ༄

Alcohol coursed through his veins, leaving him in a frenzy as the music from downstairs blasted through the walls. Your ass hiked up in the air, waving ever so slightly each time you’d lower your head down on his cock.

He had it made up in his mind that your ex had to be mentally deranged to toss a girl like you to the curb, with a mouth like that you’d get anything you wanted from him and more. All you had to say was the word and he’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Matt groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. “Keep going.”

More praises tumbled out from his lips, leaving you encouraged to go faster. Eager to see what face he’d make or the sounds that would come out from him as he finished.

His hips moving up on their own, slightly bucking up into you. Your mouth closing in on his member is just the right ways as your tongue swirled around his tip that oozed with precum.

Your fingers wrapped around the base, pumping the rest of what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. A pool of saliva bubbling around him and trickling through the gaps of your fingers as you continued bobbing your head up and down.

One of his hands came down, grabbing at your hat and quickly getting rid off it so that he could gaze upon the wondrous sight in front of him. Moving your hair out from your eyes, only for you to look up at him with that same helpless look you had on the couch. It was enough to make him spend right then and there.

His cheeks were flushed and his flannel was unbuttoned, exposing his toned stomach that would rise and fall with each movement of your tongue. A conniving smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your brought your mouth up to his tip, leaving a sloppy kiss against it before flicking your tongue on his slit.

“Fuck. You know what you’re doing, huh?” He groaned with a smirk.

You hummed against him, sending a pleasing tingling sensation all through his body.

“Keep doing that and I’ma cum.” He continued, this time nearly out of breath as his orgasm slowly approached. “Gonna be a good girl for me and take it all?”

“Yes.” You replied in a faint whisper that was hardly audible. Your timidness mixed with your risqué behavior was a dangerous combination. You never broke eye contact with him before slipping your lips past his tip, lowering your head back down as far as you could and pumping the rest with your hand.

His fingers caught in the sheets as he continued feeding you with praises through low grunts and moans. A knot twisting in his stomach as you picked up the pace, his brain completely fogged and all logic thrown out the window. Focusing on nothing else other than his high and the lust he had out for you.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, his voice low and raspy. His fingers snuck around to the back of your head, pushing your mouth down further onto his dick. The tip hitting the back of your throat as his warm cum spurted out, some seeping past the corners of your mouth and trickled down your chin as he filled it up. “Come on baby, take it.”

Your eyes screwed shut, whimpering against his strong grip for a moment before he let go.

“Open.” He muttered, his hand gripping your face.

You stuck out your tongue, opening your mouth as much as you could. Your heart raced as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, examining each crease and crevice of your mouth to make sure you did exactly as you were told.

“So good for me. I like that shit.” He smirked as he let go of your lip, amused at how it bounced back up in place.

A giggle slipping past your lips as you crawled up towards him, your knees sinking down into the mattress as you straddled his hips.

One of your hands went straight to his hair, brushing it back from his forehead, tipping off his hat slightly in the process. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, so soft and plump, you craved for them to be on your own.

Without any hesitation, you pressed your lips against his. It started off sweet and delicate almost, with your timid little pecks. But Matt made it clear he needed so much more, slipping his tongue past your lips and his hands navigated their way down to your zipper.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy mess. The sounds of your lips smacking against his, the mixing of saliva, your teeth clashing together— it all was a sweet melody to your ears that you could listen to on repeat for hours.

Matt swallowed each whimper and plea that slipped past your lips. A pool of your arousal filled up between your legs as his veiny hands removed your denim shirts at an agonizingly slow pace.

Now the only thing keeping your dripping center away from his length was the thin, taunting fabric of your panties— that you so desperately needed ripped off. Your hips instinctively began moving on their own, shamelessly rocking down onto him. So needy to get even the slightest bit of friction.

His fingers dug into the handle of your hips to hold you down into place. Another one of those cocky smirks spread across his face just before pulling away from the kiss. He adored the way you squirmed in his grip, practically crying in protest that he put your greedy, lustful movements to a halt. He absolutely lived for the teasing, he’d argue that it was his favorite part— other than the actual act itself, of course.

“So desperate for my cock, hm pretty girl?” He cooed as his hand traveled down past your stomach.

You tried to give him a response but your mind failed to form a proper sentence. It was completely fogged and consumed with an overwhelming amount of concupiscent thoughts. His finger tips teasingly danced just over the waistband of your panties before finally slipping into them.

Your head dropped down, hiding yourself into the crook of his neck. Your hands clenched around his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt entangling itself in your fingers. A series of whines and cries poured out from you. Taking in the rhythmic movements of his digits. You couldn’t help but grind down into his palm as you felt his fingers trickle down to your entrance.

The way your wetness oozed out from you and coated his fingers had his dick weeping. It ached in excitement to be buried inside you, pushing himself as deep as you’d let him. He could only imagine how it would feel to have your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock. You were already so whiny with just his fingers, he wondered how you’d sound with something much larger.

His name escaped past your lips in a breathy moan when you felt two of his fingers slip inside you. He only hummed in amusement, taking in the way your pussy hugged around his fingers so snugly.

“Such a brave girl, taking in the fingers of a stranger. Having me make you feel like this.” He coaxed in way that set your body ablaze, but that didn’t keep him from feeding you even more sweet praises.

“Pussy’s so good, I don’t know how he could ever let this shit go.” He nearly moaned at the way you were sucking him in each time he’d pump his fingers into you.

You whined into his skin, slightly upset that he even brought up your ex. You had forgotten all about him by this point and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Don’t worry.” He begins, gently pulling his fingers out from you, leaving you crying in protest. “I’ma get a taste of what he’s missing. Show you how special you are.”

Your head shot up, a flustered expression written all over your face. Your fingers caressed his jaw, his rough stubble pricking your finger tips, as you pulled him over slightly so that your eyes locked into his. You pressed your lips against his once again, your hands cupping around his face to draw him in closer as his fingers looped under the waistband of your panties.

You lifted your knees up from the mattress, only to bring them back down once Matt maneuvered your underwear off each leg. He groaned into the kiss, eagerness coursing through his veins as he quickly tossed them to the floor. His hand ran down along your back, eliciting a whine from you.

“Gonna ride me, cowgirl?” He grinned, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Help me out.” He replied, referring to the fact that his hands were already quite busy.

You yelped as he raised you up, his fingers digging into the round cushion of your ass. Your dainty fingers shyly wrapped around the base of his dick, one of his veins shamelessly throbbed against your palm.

He sighed watching you place the tip at your entrance, running it along your wetness before finally slipping it inside.

“Oh, fuck.” You cry, it had been embarrassingly long since you last felt a stretch quite like that— it was definitely an adjustment you weren’t exactly prepared to make.

You tugged your bottom lip past your teeth as your palms flattened against his chest, slowly sinking yourself down on his cock. His hands now wrapped around your waist, holding you up straight so that he could see all of you.

“So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned as he fought the animalistic urge in him to thrust up into you. “Taking my dick so well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you fully sat on him, his cock stuffing you so full that you could see the bulge in your stomach. His warm hands roamed all over your body, gripping at your tits, squeezing your waist, groping your ass— anywhere and everywhere. He needed to touch, caress, and massage every single inch of your body.

But he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t see the embarrassment written all over your face— he didn’t want you to feel that way, in fact the complete opposite. So he knew he’d have to take the lead, which he doesn’t mind.

“Come here.” He huffs, his arms extending out so that your body falls into them.

Your head drops back down, hiding in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapping around your waist in an almost comforting way as yours draped over his shoulders. You could feel his heavy breaths began to pick up as he slowly began rutting his hips up into you.

You got a waft of his cologne mixed in with the alcohol from earlier, an erotic mixture that made your pussy flutter around his cock. One of his hands stayed on your back, his thumb massaging gentle circles into your skin as the other one made its way back down to your ass.

Your ass was heavy against him in a way that had him about to blow his load, he was lost in a trance at how it clapped against him. He fought the urge to pick up the pace, eager to see the ripple of your flesh and hear those sweet cries pouring out from you.

“You sound so sexy, baby.” He groans, propping up his legs so that his knees were now bent. This way, he’d have more control over the movements of his hips.

You only whine in response, the vibrations of your soft voice going straight towards his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine that had him yearning for more.

Your thick arousal trickled down his member, leaving it glistening in the dim amber lighting that the lamp illuminated in the bedroom. Your pussy squelched each time he’d pump himself in, your plush walls clamping down on him with each movement he made. The horrible slow pace drove him nearly to insanity but he had to make sure that you could handle it at first. But he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the only one struggling.

“Faster, please.” You pleaded, your breath hitting against a sensitive area on his neck that made him shudder just a bit. Both of his hands now cupping your ass as a sly grin grew on his face.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He whispered, adjusting his hips once more before finally giving your needy little cunt everything it ever wanted. “Nice and fast, having my dick touch that sweet spot of yours? I bet you want my cum too.”

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and your soft pants soon morphed into desperate, broken moans and cries. He wasn’t kidding at that last comment he made, once he found that spongey area inside you, he didn’t give it a break. He angled his hips in a way so that the tip of his cock kissed that same spot over and over.

His fingers dug into your flesh, most definitely leaving markings to discover for later but you could care less. Matt’s dick had completely swamped your brain, like a parasite slowly taking control of your being— and you absolutely loved it.

Your own hips started grinding against his, your movements complementing his now sloppy thrusts. Your body squirmed in his strong grip as you slowly started unraveling above him. He was awfully close as well, a groan slipping past his lips as his cock twitched along your moist walls.

He continued showering you with even more lewd and sweet praises, so much so that you wondered how many other women he’s said these things to. Here you were, struggling to come up with just a few words while he was tumbling out full, proper and complex sentences.

“Squeezing around so fucking tight. It’s like you’re tryna suck me dry, baby.” Matt moans.

You’re so caught up in chasing your own high that you don’t even notice when one of his hands traveled down past your stomach. A sharp gasp slipped past your lips once you felt his finger tips press into your clit. He wasted no time massaging tight, quick circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Makes me wanna ask for your number.” He continues in a hum. ��Would you like that?”

“S-shit!” You stutter, feeling your walls spasm against his thickness, eliciting a strangled moan from him.

Matt pulls more curses out of you as you rode out your orgasm. His hips still rutting up into as you coated his fingers with your sapid juices.

“So so good for me.” He slurred out, pulling his fingers away from your puffy clit.

Both of his hands now hugged your waist keeping that same sloppy rhythm going with his hips. Your sweet voice filling up his ears and consuming his thoughts as you sobbed out his name.

It wasn’t long before he approached his own orgasm. Your body curled into his as you felt the hot, sticky ropes shoot up into you. A white ring forming at the base of cock as he continued fucking his cum back into you before finally pulling himself out with a pop.

The two of your heartbeats raced in your chests, syncing with one another as your heavy pants filled the room. The erotic aroma of sex filled the room and you mentally cursed yourself for fucking this random man in another stranger’s bedroom.

📃 — join the taglist!

@bluesturniolo333 , @hoesformatt , @mattgirly , @stellarsturns , @mattsturniolosgf333 , @mrssturnioloo , @sturniozo , @littlebookworm803 , @only4mattyb , @breeloveschris , @liz-stxrn , @strawberrysturniolo , @mangoposts , @enyaslover , @1horrormoviewhore1 , @whatever1021 , @mysterioussmae , @mattslolita , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniolopowers , @hercigaretteblush , @lovingmattysposts , @stardustmf444 , @lovesturns , @gigisworldsstuff , @crispylouis28 , @that-general-simp , @lustfulslxt , @ifilwtmfc , @chrislapdog , @sstvrnioloo , @angelic-sturniolos111 , @sturniolosreads , @gamermattsgf , @luvmxtt , @kayannettesposts , @sophssturn , @isabellehoran , @sturnfix , @luvmila444 , @luhsexcbihh

©️ LUV4KOZUME 🦢

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kisseobie · 1 month

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p1harmony and the coquette boyfriend trend

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: none

based on this tiktok trend

a/n: just a cute and silly little reaction (while i work on tumblr girls) inspired by @yunhoszn 𐙚 this trend is sooo over but who gaf if i wanna put a bow on my piwon’s biceps i should be able to like… also piwon as a whole give me the vibes of that picture of the rotc kid saluting with the caption “me when a bad bitch tell me to do something” so i tried to emulate that here too LMAOO

౨ৎ keeho

i already know kyo’s chornically online ass was made aware of this trend even before it actually took off, was going to bring it up to you, but being the stubborn man he is, opted out of doing so because he thinks it should be you begging him to let you tie him up in a little bow!! and he’s so real for that!! goes as far as reposting every single video following the trend he comes across, and starts humming the lana del rey song whenever your near so he can hopefully telepathically send you signals that he wants you to put a bow on his bicep and show him off!! his approach is a bit unconventional but low and behold it somehow works, and when you do ask him to film that tiktok he annoyingly pretends he didn’t even know about the trend in the first place, as if you didn’t pick up on his very obvious signs. says shit like “why a bow? but omg you’re soooo obsessed with me!” (and you are!)

౨ৎ theo

i imagine you bring it up to him and he’s just confused as to why that’s a trend and what its supposed to mean, and even when you explain it to him he still doesn’t get it. you show him examples and he still doesn’t get it. ask you meaningless questions like “why put a bow on me? what does the bow represent? i’ve never heard of this type of couple trend?” but his questioning doesn’t mean that he’s opposed to it!! quite the opposite actually, he’s very endeared over the fact that you want to make a tiktok with him despite your relationship being fairly new. i do think he would rather have little bows in his hair rather than the usual tie around the bicep, please put him in pigtails and call him your pretty princess because it’s what he deserves! you two end up laughing the entire time you style his hair and film the video, and it’s little moments like these that make your relationship oh so sweet

౨ৎ jiung

literally will do anything you ask for him because once he’s locked in, he’s locked in. when you timidly bring it up to him he’s gonna nod at you with big eyes and his little concentrated pout, reassuring you with no hesitation that yes, he would love for you to wrap him in a pink bow, and no, you don’t have to be embarrassed to ask him for anything. i honestly think ji has a bit of a possessive side if his radio conversation with keeho about his future gf dancing up on other men is anything to go off of, and the fact that you want to claim him as your on the internet, even if it is for a silly little trend, makes his heart happy and feeds into that quality of his. once you’ve filmed the tiktok, with one of his pretty fingers adorned with a singular pink bow, he gives you a kiss on the cheek and keeps the bow on for the rest of the day, even if he has practice later. this experience leads him to spending more time on tiktok despite his grandpa personality, and he searches for other couple videos you two can make together in the future :] just so sweetie pie

౨ৎ intak

honestly just like keeho he’s on tiktok all the time and gets behind trends pretty quickly, so when intak begs you to do this new trend he keeps seeing on his for you page you aren’t surprised. honestly, you had also been wanting to participate in the trend, partly because it’s cute and partly because tak has gorgeous arms, but you kept it quiet because you wanted him to work for it! it’s pretty amusing actually, he ends up forcing you to come along with him to the gym when he works out much more often just so he can lift heavy weights and flex his arms for you. he just wants you to deem his biceps worthy of being wrapped in a bow!! please don’t tease him for too long because he will have a permanent sad puppy look on his face for the rest of the month. when you finally cave and wrap his arm in a bow he is sooo cheesed. had this goofy grin on his face and flexes his muscles which results in him accidentally splitting the bow in two, which both pisses you off and turns you on at the same time?

౨ৎ soul

literally is so pliable under your hands, much like jiung he will let you do anything to him with little to no complaints or even acknowledgement. he simply exists to make his girlfriend happy! you don’t even ask him to film the video because you already know the answer will be yes (in the form of a strange sound), so you get to work as soon as you make way into his dorm room. you stay true to shota’s reputation of being slightly abnormal by wrapping the entirety of your roll of ribbon around his entire body, mummifying him from head to toe and topping it off with a delicately tied bow at his ankles. he doesn’t complain throughout the entire process, even if you’ve interrupted his gaming sesh with seob. when you film and publish the ridiculous tiktok, you point your phone towards him so he can appreciate the fruit of your labor, and when he finally does get to see the video for himself he lets out the biggest laugh that puts an equally big smile on your face

౨ৎ jongseob

you both actually discover the trend together! you two have a routine of cuddling up and scrolling through one of your for you pages, alternating phones each night depending on your battery levels. tonight, jongseob has your back against his chest as he scrolls through your tiktok when the trend first pops up on the screen, and you both get intrigued and scroll through the let the light in sound on tiktok to watch more. you don’t say anything to him but seob can tell you want to participate, and he ends up sweetly informing you that “we can do this trend if you want! i don’t have ribbon on me right now though..” and with that your eyes light up. the two of you end up buying ribbon at the craft store the next day for the sole purpose of filming that video, and you both rush to his dorm afterwards to film the tiktok. you end up settling on wrapping the dainty ribbon around both of his arms and torso, the pair of you refilming several times to get it “just right”. just like the other boys, seob is just happy to please his pretty gf!

ʕ•̫͡ 𐙚

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neverchecking · 11 months

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Could you do Yandere BOTW Champions or TOTK Sages x Reader who has the Mask from Majora’s Mask? The reader is Hylian. But they have the usual four mask, Plus the Fierce Deity mask.

As head cannons preferably.

This is a mostly Linked Universe Blog, but sure! I'm not overly well versed on the whole Mask deal, so please bare with me.

I went with the BOTW Champions, since not everyone knows the sages.

Champion of the Masks

・❥・So, if you know the Champions, there's a good chance you are a knight or warrior in your own right.

・❥・You are someone powerful, probably because of said masks. For Hylia's sake, you have the Fierce Deity looking over you. You are practically untouchable.

・❥・And the other Champions are well aware of this fact. But that doesn't change anything.

・❥・Because you are still so vulnerable. What happens when you're separated from your masks? Then what? Hm? You are just so vulnerable, can't you see that?

・❥・You don't have any powers of the wind, not any form of protection. You can't control any elements, nor can you heal. You certainly don't have any part of the triforce. You are powerless.

・❥・Which is why they needed to be there to protect you!

・❥・Now, Revali. My loveable douche-bird. He tries to keep you at a distance, but still falls. And he falls hard. Revali is the only champion who wasn't born with his gift. He had to build Revali's gale into what it was from scratch.

・❥・Reader probably recognizes all of his hard work, because (and this is from my very limited research) to get all of the Masks in their possession? A bitch and a half. They weren't gifted these masks. Not without a price. So they can recognize a situation where you are pitted against these...demi-gods eons beyond your own abilities and forced to catch up or fall behind.

・❥・And Revali absolutely cherishes this. Having someone not look down on him, but instead stand on the very same footing he was? Man's is down bad.

・❥・He is particularly fond of your Breman Mask because you just look so pretty in feathers. And while yes, white looked nice on you, blue looked better.

・❥・I HC that every race has their own form of courting rituals, Rito included. They probably make their intended betrothed some sort of snow-quill headpiece meant for the cold, lined with their feathers and intricate braids of fine silks and expensive ribbons.

・❥・You just know that Revali, as a champion, would make a nice courting present. And you just know he is purposefully difficult and makes everyone else come to him in the Rito village (He is their best warrior and is shown to lead their army in AoC). You just know that he demands the princess bring her two best knights, which begrudgingly means Link, but it also means you. You who wears the snowquill bit with pride-- even if you don't know what if means really.

・❥・It doesn't matter because the others do.

・❥・The next one to fall is Urbosa.

・❥・She falls after seeing you in battle. The Gerudo, regardless of gender, can respect a Warrior when they see one. And you are a warrior. You with your sharp wit and insane reaction times, parrying a blade aimed for her.

・❥・Your strength alone makes her swoon because out of everything she can respect that.

・❥・Her favorite mask of yours is the Garo's mask. Not only does it fool these supposed Garo (You are so smart, did you know that? With all of your stories and journeys.), but it also fools the Yiga. The Mask of Truth does as well, but the thought of spilling her guts to you makes her uneasy.

・❥・Not because she doesn't want you to know how constantly you're running through her head, but she doesn't want you to know how deep these thoughts delve.

・❥・When you're able to fool the Yiga and get back to her about an ambush planned on her people, she knows you're the one.

・❥・I like to imagine the Gerudo focus more on jewelry for a courting action. Not rings, no. But intricate pieces of armor lined with gems aimed to aid in battles.

・❥・Brigandines lined with topaz; Gorgets lined with opals; spaulders ordained in rubies; Poleyn decorated in sapphires. Even your own Scmitar enhanced by diamonds. All of it custom made to you to show her devotion to you.

・❥・Now, with this being all useful items you can wear in battle, you're seen in it often.

・❥・Daruk is next. He falls for you after seeing you in his, coincidentally, favorite mask. You tell the tale of the Goron Mask after he asks, weaving this intricate legend that had him hanging onto every word.

・❥・The Gorons show their love through food. So Daruk makes it a point to constantly share his food, both sedimentary and otherwise. He loves knowing that you are well fed and cared for because of him.

・❥・I feel like the highest form of love that can be shown through food for a Goron is a Prime Rock Roast. And while he knows Hylian's can't eat rocks (Link excluded because...it's Link), he looks for the next best thing.

・❥・Intricate pasties filled with only the finest of whipped cream and dusted with powdered sugar; dripping roasts just oozing juice that practically fall of the bone; grilled fish where the smell alone is enough to make you sallivate

・❥・All of it are gifted to you to ensure you think of him whenever you feel hungry. That he is your go to.

・❥・Now, next is a tie between Link and Zelda.

・❥・Zelda probably falls first because she sees you interacting with the others and watches you. In fact, you watch her back. But the difference between you watching her and Link watching her, because her father has allowed you to take over for Link on the rare occasion, is that you give her space. You allow her to disappear into the divine beasts, waiting patiently for her to come to you.

・❥・You entertain her with stories upon stories.

・❥・You listen to her woes with a careful ear and offer your own advice.

・❥・You even braved her cooking.

・❥・She loves all of your masks and cherishes each story about them. But when you wear the Great Fairy Mask and let fairies tickle her cheeks?That's when she swoons the most.

・❥・Link falls during all the time he spends with you chasing after Zelda. You're able to hold your own, which is always appreciated, and you're okay with silence. Silence settles between you two often while waiting for Zelda and you don't push it.

・❥・And you don't look at him like he's anything other than a Hylian. Not the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness.

・❥・Not this random knight that was handed a legacy on a plate.

・❥・Not an annoyance that needed to be shook off,

・❥・He was just Link to you. And it made his heart sing.

・❥・Unfortunately, neither are quite in the position to court you. Not with Calamity on the horizon, nor with their standings in the royal council. And it tears them apart in the inside. Seeing you decked out in jewels with feathers woven into your hair, eating some of the finest things Hyrule has to offer, all of it makes them bitter and hungry. Hungry to show how you belong to them.

・❥・You get prefential treatment in the castle. The finest of rooms with the softest of sheets. Plump pillows and too many locks on the door to keep you right where she wants satin pajamas, all just for your enjoyment.

・❥・Or the best weapons and shields available to the royal guard. Bows re-strung just for you, or the lion's share of arrows provided. Want that Shield that Jimmy Whosit has? Give Link three minutes. No, there's no blood on the shield, what are you talking about? You must exhausted if you're seeing things, maybe you should just skip training all together?

・❥・It's all yours.

・❥・Now, the last person to fall, is Mipha. She's very hesitant to lend her heart out to you, but you know who isn't afraid of showing their emotions on their sleeves for everyone to see?

・❥・Sidon.

・❥・Sidon, in all his little fishy glory, loves you when you come around. when you dawn the Zora mask and swim with him. You play all the games that Mipha won't because they're 'too dangerous'. So when you come around he's ecstatic, dragging his sister down to see you alongside him.

・❥・Mipha tolerates you for the time being, probably still in love with a different knight, making him his own armor. But after she finishes it, it's no longer shaped to Link's form. No. Somewhere along the way it went from being formed to his broader shoulders to being shortened to your own narrower set. It no longer was long enough to fit his torso, instead fitted to your own.

・❥・Her heart had tainted her hands, making armor for you before she even knew what it all meant. The only reason the rest of her catches up is because she sees you with Sidon.

・❥・She watches you swim on you back, with Sidon clinging to your chest, laughter bubbling up from both of you.

・❥・And the last of them falls.

・❥・She aims to give you the armor after the fall of the calamity, but...I'm sure we all know how that'll play out...

・❥・Anyway, between them all, you get very little time to yourself. They are all constantly hovering over you.

・❥・You think you can get away with one of your masks?

・❥・Nice try.

・❥・Your precious Stone Mask? Gone. Confiscated under the order of Princess Zelda King Rhoam.

・❥・Think you can fight your way out?

・❥・Not even the Fierce Deity mask can save you from the champions, their Divine Beasts, and the Triforce of Wisdom and Courage, nor their wielders.

・❥・You wanna run and hide?

・❥・There is not a single inch of Hyrule that one of them doesn't know about.

・❥・You are well and truly trapped under their hold, just where they like you.

・❥・Trapped like a fucking bird in a cage while they fight amongst themselves to see who you stay with.

・❥・ Let's hope they decided quickly before the Calamity decides he's done being patient.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #loz #link x reader #yandere link x reader #yandere revali x reader #yandere urbosa x reader #yandere daruk x reader #yandere zelda x reader #yandere mipha x reader #yandere botw #botw x reader

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yuri-is-online · 6 months

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A Pocket Full of Posies and WTF is up with Rollo's Hankie

Before we begin, a slight disclaimer: yes, Medieval beliefs about disease and how it spread were weird. They did not have the ability to know about germs because those are literally microscopic and germ theory would not be "discovered" until the 1860s. THIS DID NOT MEAN THEY WERE STUPID AND IF I SEE YOU SAYING THAT WE WILL FIGHT. Anyway-

If you have been kicking around on the internet for a bit, chances are you might have heard the "dark history" fact that that the "Ring Around the Rosey" nursery rhyme is about the Black Plague. That's probably not true but the reason it was originally theorized to be the case has to do with Miasma theory, and the use of strong scents (typically herbs and flowers) to ward off the "bad air." What does this have to do with Rollo huffing that handkerchief every time someone talks about magic? Well we'll get there but first just what the hell do I mean by bad air?

Miasma Theory in Practice

The Black Death/Bubonic Plague was a roving pandemic that gets it's name from the first wave that bitch slapped Europe from 1347-1351. There were technically three forms of plague kicking around by I am not a scientist and we are here to talk about that. Given that this was, as stated in the disclaimer, pre-germ theory the ideas people had about why this was happening and how to prevent it wildly varied, but Miasma Theory was so popular it actually stuck around long enough to duke it out with Germ Theory when scientists started talking about that.

The basic idea is that diseases like the Black Death were spread from bad smelling air. This theory was proposed by Hippocrates, as in that guy from third or fourth century Greece we aren't even sure existed, but it was a pretty universal belief, we have sources from Ancient China that also reference the idea that bad smells can make you sick. This "bad air" was thought to come from decay; in the case of the plague, dead bodies were believed to have released it (hence all the "bring out your dead" stuff), as were cracks in the earth, and sewage. ALL AIR WAS THOUGHT TO HAVE A LEVEL OF MIASMA, but smell was the best way to tell if you were in danger of getting sick; basically if it smells like shit out then you are in danger because there is only so much of it you can breathe in before you get sick. So when you end 1351 with 40% (that we can confirm!) of the population dead, how exactly do you keep yourself from huffing in all that invisible miasma?

Roi du Mouchoir

Well you make the air you breathe smell nicer of course! And this is where we get to Rollo's hankie.

The "posies" in that nursery rhyme doesn't actually refer to one specific flower. It's a type of small bouquet, which apparently are also called nosegays or tussie-mussies? It's also the technical term for those tiny groups of flowers that make up a corsage. The idea was that people would carry around things that smelled good, like flowers and herbs, and any time you smelled something bad you would bring the flower out of your pocket and hold it up to your nose just like Rollo does with his handkerchief. Literally, people usually kept those nice smelling flowers in "Plague Bags," which could refer to nicely sewn sachets or just neatly wrapped up in cloth. Eventually these got super fancy, and evolved into these really elaborate pouches people put potpourri in, but given how strict Rollo seems to be with himself (and everyone else) I've chosen in my own fan fic to interpret his posies as being the common kind, which would be rosemary and lavender. Today they are thought of as being soothing scents that calm you down, and that does seem to be what he is trying to do with all those deep breaths.

I got a lot of this specific information from this article here which is on a wonderful website curated by a professional perfumer I highly recommend poking around if you are interested in learning more.

Cool Story But?

"Sure Yuri, all of that is neat but isn't Rollo's handkerchief a reference to Esmeralda's scarf?" Yeah probably. I don't really think it has to be that deep, but I do think this stuff is cool and well-

Malleus's name is likely a reference to the Malleus Malificarum, a book I have a PDF of on my computer because of course I do that was published around the same time that this theory of disease would have been kicking around. It's about- well the author says it's about "witchcraft" but that's another paper for another time, and why they are super evil and bad and should all die. Specifically why they should all be burned at the stake, it's a fun read. And sounding oddly familiar to certain events...

That's all to say, sure it probably isn't that deep but with all the other really well researched and designed character choices, I would not be surprised if it was.

Semi Unrelated Fun Facts:

Bridal Bouquets are thought to have started, in part, as a way to ward off Miasma and keep the bride healthy on her wedding day.

Miasma theory was still super popular in the Victorian Era and lead to a lot of public clean up projects as people thought that they could get rid of disease if they got rid of all the sewage everywhere. And hey they were right, just not for the reason they thought they were.

Yes a lot of people thought the Black Plague was a punishment from God and a sign of the end times. I will remind you that 40-60% of Europe's population DIED IN FOUR YEARS. I'd assume something supernatural was out to get me too tf? Seriously these people were not stupid, they just lived in interesting times.

If you are wondering "hey I heard Plague Doctors stuffed herbs in the long beaks on their masks, is this why?" Yeah it is! Gold star!

I love you for making this far, thank you for listening to me friend and I hope to get back to entertaining you soon (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #glorious masquerade #glomas #rollo flamm #twst theories #the malleus malificarum is a *wild* book #did you know it was banned by the church when it was published!#i am very normal and definitely don't own an encyclopedia on demonology and witchcraft #and it is absolutely not within my line of sight as i write this

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bookobsessedram · 4 months

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Soap Mactavish x Reader - Mental Health Day

Word Count - 1.1k

Warnings - depression, cursing, very SFW

A/N: This is a gift for my friend @bunnyreaper, so reader is described!! Sorry y'all <3

For bunny, I want you to know that I love you so much and that you are valued and loved. I hope this brings some light to your life :)

For the past few weeks, it feels like every day has been the same. Wake up, cry, eat whatever shitty snacks are in the pantry, cry some more, check your phone, and go back to bed. Rinse and repeat. You know you must look like hell, with unwashed hair and bags under your eyes that won’t seem to go away, but you can’t bring yourself to care – or rather, you care but you can’t find the energy to do anything about it. You haven’t had the energy to do much of anything recently, now that you think of it. Depression is a bitch, you know, but it doesn’t change the fact that when it hits you upside the head with an emotional baseball bat, you’re unable to fight back with the metaphorical pool noodle you have in response.

Your phone buzzes on the pillow next to you, and you groan, opening your eyes blearily and sitting up. Afternoon light is streaming in through the blinds, and you squint at your phone screen. You have a myriad of messages, but you only care about one: a message from your boyfriend, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish, the cheerful, firecracker of a man that barreled his way into your heart and made a home nestled between your ribs. You love him with everything you have, but even speaking to him has taken more energy than you’ve had recently.

Johnny <;3: Mind if I stop by, bun? got something I think you’ll like.

Thankfully, Johnny has always been both understanding and accommodating of your mental health struggles and has never asked more of you than he thinks you can handle. Which is why, you think as you smooth out your hair in the bathroom mirror, he’s coming over to see you. You pull out your phone and fire off a quick text before heading to the bathroom.

You: I’ll meet you at the door :)

By the time you’ve put on your least dirty pair of pajamas and brushed your teeth, there’s an excited knock at your apartment door. Knowing you must look a mess, you aren’t quite thrilled to open it, but all reservations melt away as soon as Soap sets the groceries he was holding down and sweeps you up in his arms with a bright smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Olivia,” he murmurs, practically lifting you off the ground with the force of his hug. “Missed holdin’ you, love.”

“Missed you too, Johnny”, you mumble into his strong chest, feeling the muscles under his shirt. Yes, you were being squeezed quite tightly, but you most certainly didn’t mind it. It was nice to be surrounded by him again.

As he sets you down, you notice he’s holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his arms. You can’t help but smile at the sweet and romantic gesture, but before you know it hot tears are rolling down your face. Johnny’s brow furrows in worry, and he softly lifts your chin up to wipe your tears. “Shh, shh, bun,” he whispers, wiping your tears with his thumbs before holding you close. “S’okay, I’m here now, yeah? Yer not alone now. Never have been.”

At that, you cry harder, dampening his shirt with your tears, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind. He lets you sob into his chest, rocking you gently back and forth in the doorway of your apartment until your sobs die to sniffles and shaky breaths. Once he’s sure you’re calm, he doesn’t hesitate before picking you up with ease and carrying you into the kitchen.

“Alright, love,” he declares, a determined glint in his eye. “First order of business? Getting some food in you.”

There’s no room for protest as he sets you down on the counter before turning to the stove. You begin to protest, opening your mouth to speak phrases like you really don’t have to and that’s too much, but the words die on your lips as he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you dare, Olivia,” he teases. “I know you’ve been too unwell to cook.”

At that, you don’t offer anything but a sheepish smile and a shrug, and he grins. “Thought so, hen,” he says as he turns back to the stove and begins cracking the eggs he brought.

You watch as he assembles what appears to be the most perfect breakfast out of all breakfasts, complete with eggs, bacon, and waffles (admittedly, the waffles are toaster brand – while an amazing boyfriend, Soap does not have the ability to make batter from scratch). Handing you a plate and leaning next to you on the counter, he takes a big bite of the eggs. “What do you think?”

You mirror his actions, taking your own bite. Your stomach grumbles in appreciation, delighted at the first taste of real food, and you smile at him, your eyes showing a light in them he hasn’t seen for weeks. “They’re amazing, Johnny. Thank you,” you say, kissing his cheek lovingly in response.

As the both of you finish your breakfast together, you feel the dark cloud that has been surrounding you over the past few weeks slowly lift. By the time breakfast is cleaned up, you’re feeling a lot better than you had been. The flowers are freshly trimmed and put in a vase on the table, and they bring color to the apartment that you haven’t felt in a long time.

Soap gently coaxes you into the shower, and while you scrub the past few weeks’ tension from your body, he does a load of laundry and strips the sheets off your bed. By the time you emerge from your sauna-like bathroom, your pajamas are in the dryer and your bed is made with new sheets, blankets and stuffed animals folded and arranged with military precision.

As you sit with your back to his chest, Johnny gently brushing the tangles out of your curls and massaging your scalp all at once, he murmurs your nickname. “Bunny?” He asks.

“Hm?” You turn your head to look at him, the light of your bedroom lamp reflected on his face.

“I know that you don’t like asking for help. And yer so strong and kind and smart, you don’t always need to. But don’t ever feel like you can’t rely on me, okay?” He cradles your face in his warm hands, sincerity reflected in his bright blue eyes. “When your brain is lying to you, I want to be here to tell you the truth.”

At that, you can’t stop the tears from spilling over again, but unlike before, Johnny is here to hold you close in his arms, running his hands soothingly down your back and murmuring kindness into your ears. Unlike before, your bed is no longer empty, and your brain is no longer full of negative self-talk and racing thoughts. Johnny surrounds you like the warm blankets in your shared bed, his scent enveloping you and lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

You’re just barely drifting off when you feel him kiss your temple tenderly and whisper softly in your ear: “I love you, Olivia.” And then you fall asleep.

#ram writes #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #cod modern warfare ii #cod mwii x reader #cod mwii x reader fluff #tw depression #tw crying #i promise everything will be okay <3

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 2 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/crushingthebroken/741170379192745984/the-fact-ryan-condal-keeps-hitting-with-the?source=share

I think there is a lot of bias in this analysis, what is your opinion?

Yes, there's definitely a lot of bias here; op is so clearly a pissy TG stan. This analysis is rife with observation bias and just plain misinformation. I do sympathize with some of their points though. Op is doing something I've seen a lot of TG stans do: projecting the issues in HOTD onto Rhaenyra.

HOTD is a pretty bad adaptation, full of inconsistent characters and just plain fucking up the characterizations of the people. The Velaryons definitely suffer more than most other characters from this. They made Rhaenys rather antagonistic to Rhaenyra, turned Laena into basically nothing, made Laenor a deadbeat dad, and Corlys is just kinda there.

However, op's complaints about the Velaryons' representation show their bias very obviously. They don't complain about Rhaenys' characterization until she's supporting Rhaenyra. They don't talk about the issues Laenor's running away brings in, just about how it makes the Velaryons' support of the Blacks confusing. They complain about Corlys not being hated for offering Laena to Viserys, but don't acknowledge how the show purposely aged Laena down to younger than Rhaenyra to make Corlys look worse. The most damning however, is how they complain about how Corlys didn't care about Vaemond's death.

Vaemond is killed both in the book and the show, both times because he was slandering Rhaenyra and calling her sons bastards. Daemon kills him both times (with Rhaenyra's approval in the book, which was a slay tbh). Corlys doesn't care in either occurrence because Vaemond was attempting to usurp Corlys' line and his chosen successors. Op choosing to ignore the actual truth of the situation shows they just hate Rhaenyra and are bitter HOTD didn't go all the way with making the Velaryons disloyal to her.

Moving on to their complaints about Rhaenyra's portrayal, another thing I agree with to an extent. HOTD made Rhaenyra into a much more passive character than she actually was. They made her virtually inactive politically, removed her approval of Vaemond's execution, and made it so she was unwilling to go to war until Luke's murder. They showed their benevolent misogyny. However, op isn't angry about the sexism of this portrayal or how they nerfed an interesting and fun character, rather about how she does fewer morally ambiguous and questionable things. They're upset that HOTD made it harder to say Rhaenyra is an evil bitch without revealing the misogyny of TG.

Op also complains about how HOTD doesn't condemn Daemon enough while actually portraying how awful Aegon, Criston, and Vaemond are. This shows how op isn't actually using media literacy. Condal and Hess constantly condemn Daemon and went out of their way to make him worse than he is in the book. Daemon didn't murder Rhea or abuse Rhaenyra in the book, those are things they added to make him look worse. Meanwhile they actively defend Aegon raping women and go out of their way to make him more "sympathetic".

Op also sympathizes with Criston, because apparently him being held accountable for his own decisions is wrong. He chose to sleep with Rhaenyra, he chose to murder Joffrey, he chose to dedicate the rest of his life to ruining hers. Criston isn't a good person, he isn't a victim, he made all his choices and can't accept the consequences of them.

Op also reveals how they are very anti Valyrian by throwing in a spiel about how Daemon is a neo-nazi and the Valyrians are fundamentally evil for utilizing slavery. Yes, slavery is abominable, however, criticizing Daemon and Rhaenyra for wanting to hold onto their cultural traditions that have nothing to do with slavery or human exploitation isn't wrong. If every person was expected to abandon their culture just because the culture has morally wrong practices, no person could ever hold onto their culture. This applies to the other cultures of AWOIAF, including TG's precious Andals who tried to literally murder any religion other than the Faith. Daemon valuing his culture is the least condemnable thing he's ever done.

Op also complains about how Otto is portrayed as being an awful person. I have to say, a TG stan wanting to defend Otto is new to me, but not very surprising. Of course Otto is portrayed as bad and the head of the greens, they took away all of Alicent's agency and had to give it to someone. Otto is a raging misogynist and only cares about power, that's all there is to him, but apparently he's more sympathetic than Rhaenyra for some reason.

In conclusion anon, yes, this is an extremely biased "analysis". Op hates Rhaenyra and is upset that Condal and Hess didn't go out of their way to make her the primary antagonist of the show. Apparently it isn't enough that they outright defend a rapist and made the Velaryons completely nonsensical. TG stans are ridiculous and are driven purely by hatred of Rhaenyra and/or House Targaryen, op is no exception.

#anti team green #anti team green stans #anti aegon ii targaryen #anti criston cole #anti otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #anti rhaenyra antis #team black #anti hotd #daemon targaryen #corlys velaryon #rhaenys targaryen #laena velaryon #anti targaryen antis

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cxhleel108 · 1 month

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LITG S8 Thots for this week: I love winning!

(Fusebox hasn’t proven me wrong often…damn near at all, but oh do I love when they do!)

• Ok but his body kinda tea I’ll give him that.

• Also do I spy a Libra tattoo??? LIBRA GANG STAND TF UP!!!♎️♎️♎️

• Luna really just want every man in here except her own like damn bitch just give Jin to me since you so open to change😭😭😭

• The spat being us disagreeing on one thing for maybe 30 seconds and then Oakley immediately apologizing to and worshipping me like ok girl, sure.

• Keep trying all y’all want I’m not turning on my man😑😑😑

• We not doing this again uh uh.

• But also…HOW DO WE GET OAKLEY IN THESE??? QUICKLY!

• The fact I was finna deny speaking to Hari and then he brings up that he has intel on my man ugh they know how weak I am help💔

• The intel in question being that he was gonna ask us to go exclusive. WOW! WHAT A SHOCKER!

• Theo what I have to say to you couldn’t take any more than 5 seconds. Stop wasting my time PLEASE!

• Oh yes I love when a man acts “playerfully”…

• It was so obvious that the letter was from our partner can we stop being fucking dumb?

• We didn’t emote enough after reading that letter. I needed my bitch to break out into tears while screaming or something!

• They are arguing over the letter omfggg the day that this villa knows peace, pigs will be flying.

• I busted out laughing at this cuz some of y’all were theorizing that Bea was his sister. Do you know how funny that would’ve been if she was😭

• Oh for christ’s sake can Luna shut the fuck UP? I’m so tired of her getting pressed at Jin being flirty with other bitches as if she don’t do the same exact shit. Ho mad cuz he says Bea might be hot but was just begging Hari to give her pussy a taper fade haircut, girl byeeeee!

• Theo finally manned up and admitted he wants me. Woohoo! Can we move on?

• Outfit time!

• Ngl I thought this was gonna look a whole lot more stupid but thankfully it doesn’t. Now as to why they made accompanying shoes that we couldn’t even put on is beyond me.

• Jin stfu😭😭😭

• IGNORE WHAT HARI AND I ARE DOING BAE IS BACK AAAAHHHHHH��😝😝

• Yes use the good punani powers to distract him sis exactly!

• I’m seriously so glad I didn’t have to wait 20 episodes to see my bookie bear again like y’all don’t understandddd.

• He just got back and he already being messy helpskdmsmasnd.

• I know they ain’t actually shocked that I dropped the rope during tug of war…I already told y’all I am a one dick woman!

• Figures that Bea is the one that’s actually with my man, yet Luna is the one that’s making me wanna smack the shit outta her.

• Outfit time again!

• Say what you want but they are definitely killing the outfit game this season. Another bad bitch fit!

• The fact we can just tell Hari to shut the hell up so we can listen to the other date awww he really shoulda chose another girl to go after.

• Ok I fucks with you Bea! We love real bitches here💯💯💯

• And the fact Oakley recognizes that we would NEVER play those games oh when I tell you we fucking him real good tonight!

• God why am I so evil😭😭😭

• We actually get a private moment and they didn’t hoodwink us this time omg can we get fed like this more often?

• Oooooo wait clock his tea bae! Cuz that actually don’t make no fucking sense like how you out of practice for 2 years and suddenly you pulling out romantic ass stories just cuz you meet one bad bitch on Love Island?

• Oh lord someone duct tape Luna mouth shut before she start another yap fest.

• To clarify, when I say “you both” I’m referring to Oakley and his donk. Sorry Hari!

• Mind you the stuff that’s supposedly gonna change my mind about him is finna be some shit like “Instead of buying you a box of chocolates, he said he was gonna get you a giant teddy bear and a bouquet of roses and carnations.” Like can y’all cut this shit out it do not be gagging us anymore😕

• Because of course as soon as y’all bring me my baby daddy back you take him away again…

• Welp, loyal girlies I guess it’s time for us to suffer for another 2+ weeks!

#oh well a win is a win #my man is back #that’s all i care about #litg #love island the game #litg tempting fate #litg season 8 #litg s8

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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years

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@nerisweek Day 5 - Modern AU

When Nesta has to attend her sister's engagement party, she dreads seeing her ex-boyfriend there. Thankfully, a knight in shining armour saves the day.

‘Please, Nesta. Say you will.’

Nesta sucked in a long breath. Her younger sister sat opposite her, golden-brown hair plaited into two braids. She wore a top printed with sunflowers beneath her dungarees, every inch the happy flower she’d always been. Nesta could never say no to her big brown eyes.

‘I don’t know Lucien’s family.’

Elain shook her head dismissively. ‘So, you can get to know them! Lucien isn’t even close with them but his father insisted on throwing us this engagement party. I’m a little nervous to be honest.’

She wrapped the end of her braid round her finger to emphasise that fact. Nesta knew Lucien’s father was an old bastard to put it simply - that was how Lucien has described him on one of their first meetings where Nesta had interrogated him with intense scrutiny about every detail of his life. His brothers were equally as awful according to him. When Nesta had enquired how he had ended up to be a nice man, Elain had said he was a mother’s boy and stroked his cheek.

‘They will be there.’

It was more of a statement than a question. An impending sense of doom followed it. When Nesta had first moved to the city, the only person she had known was her sister, Feyre. She’d gotten swept up in her friendship group despite knowing they were not people she would ever have chosen. She had burnt that bridge, refused to even look at it and acknowledge that she had once been a part of it.

‘Yes. But Feyre is bringing Nyx!’

The only reason Nesta met her sister any more was to see her nephew. She didn’t get on with Feyre’s husband, nor his clingy cousin or any one of their other friends. They moved as a pack. Where one went, the others followed. And within that pack was Cassian. An ex-boyfriend that she was forced to endure the company of from time to time. He had a habit of showing up on her scheduled visits with her nephew. He made it his personal mission to rattle her to the point of fury.

‘Fantastic.’

***

It was an outdoor occasion in early June which meant Nesta had taken double the recommended dose of anti-histamines, clogged her eyes with drops and her handbag was stuffed with tissues and a nose spray. She’d chosen a lilac floaty dress which she already felt self-conscious in. It was a halter neck that left her back completely exposed. She tended to alternate between sweats or business attire, never a dress so pretty. She reminded herself that it was Elain’s engagement party and all eyes would be on her sister - except for when it was her turn to make a speech. At least Nesta had been forewarned for that portion of the day. Elain had practically begged her to speak.

On the drive there, her stomach bubbled with nerves. The last time she had seen Cassian, they’d had a blazing row. He’d called her a stuck-up bitch and she’d returned the favour by calling him an impossible man-child then slammed Feyre’s door in his face. It is Elain’s day, she reminded herself again, no arguments.

The estate was enormous. A huge white mansion sprawled out at the end of a long drive that was lined with rows and rows of nearly cut conifers. She was directed to the parking lot where a few other guests had already arrived. Already the high pollen count had her throat itching on the walk to the massive grounds. The wedding would be at a beach and Nesta couldn’t decide what she hated more: pollen or sand.

Flowers were everywhere, in every bed on every bush. More had been arranged for the occasion - likely by Elain herself - and they hung in garlands and wreaths. She spotted Lucien’s father, stern faced as always, speaking with other men of a similar age likely about business near one of the large marquees that had been erected.

Finally, she found Elain and gave a sigh of relief as her sister swept her into an embrace. ‘I’m so glad you came!’

‘How the hell have you afforded this place? You do know you have a wedding to pay for as well?’

Nesta was contributing to the wedding since their parents were both dead. Elain worked as a florist. It wasn’t lucrative but she enjoyed it, so Nesta was happy to funnel her finances towards her sister. It was unlikely that she was marrying anytime soon. Their father used to joke that whatever man was mad enough to take her on deserved a medal.

Elain blushed and glanced over her shoulder at Lucien’s father.

‘Lucien’s family is quite wealthy. This is one of their homes.’

Any words that Nesta had buried themselves in her throat. This was their home. This enormous palace with its grounds stretching on as far as the eyes could see was their home. One of their homes.

‘I need a drink.’

‘Wine? Gin?’

Nesta shook her head. ‘Still not drinking. And I’m driving. The phrase serves its purpose though. I’ll take anything cold.’

They walked together to the bar - all paid for, of course, by the Vanserra family. It had been a few years since Nesta drank. She leaned heavily on it during difficult times and Feyre and her friends were inclined to drink wine for every occasion. It was better for Nesta if she avoided it entirely though she found she didn’t miss it.

More guests arrived and Elain was led away in their greetings. A few made polite conversation with Nesta when they saw her standing alone. She’d been told more than once - including by Cassian - that she had a resting bitch face so people tended to avoid her.

She was inspecting a rose bush when she heard the familiar boom of Cassian’s laughter. Of course, he had an arm slung around Mor. Strictly platonic, Nesta thought with irritation. His scraggly dark hair was drawn back into a messy bun and he was decidedly more dressed down than any other guest. Feyre was struggling with Nyx who thrashed in her arms wanting to walk. He was a sickly child after a difficult pregnancy and they coddled him beyond belief. The poor boy only had sugar when auntie Nesta gave it to him. Everything had to be organic. He had a regimented day which only ended up stressing Feyre because he wouldn't nap at the regulated times. Her husband was conversing with Azriel, both males dressed head to toe in black, more suited for a funeral than an engagement party. Lucien strode over to greet them, red hair shining in the sunlight.

Nesta inhaled slowly, watching as the group took in the beautiful surroundings. Then Cassian’s eyes snapped to hers. He was moving. She was moving. Moving quicker towards a gate in between the rose bushes not caring where it was going.

She slammed it shut and kept her legs moving. He called her name. Then came barking.

A glance to her left revealed the sight of a pack of dogs, all barking, all pounding towards her. She’d been good at track though not in heels. Nesta sprinted across the lawn, only just making it to the small house at the other end of the garden as she slid open the door and took refuge.

‘Fuck me,’ she breathed, over the roar of dogs.

Her heart pounded as she leant against the glass. Out of the dogs and Cassian, she’d take being chased by dogs.

‘What’s the fuss? Shush.’

A man’s voice came from somewhere in the house. The dogs were still at the door, barking and leaping against it.

‘We’ll all get told off if you keep up that racket.’

Lucien’s brother, clearly, from the short auburn hair and brown eyes. He didn’t seem too alarmed by the sight of Nesta in his house.

‘Can I help you?’

‘The dogs chased me,’ she panted. ‘Just needed somewhere safe.’

The corner of his mouth quirked into a handsome smile. ‘That’s what they’re trained to do when a stranger enters their property. You must have run very fast. I’m impressed.’

‘Ex-boyfriend at the party,’ she said, swallowing against her dry throat. ‘I’d have run a marathon in these heels to avoid him.’

He gave a laugh, tipping his head back. Then he filled a glass from the tap and held it to Nesta. She gratefully downed it. Her heart still fluttered uneasily and she was glad for the amount of deodorant she’d sprayed on that morning.

‘I am making an assumption that you are Nesta since you look like Elain but aren’t covered in tattoos or have a child with you.’

‘You would be correct. And you are one of Lucien’s brothers but I don’t know any of your names.’

‘Eris. First born. Vanserra family name atop my shoulders. No pressure.’

‘You live here, not the big house?’

He shrugged and looked around the neatly furnished home. ‘Gives me space. I’m an architect so my office is here. Nobody bothers me. Plus all the dogs can only put hair on my belongings.’

‘All your dogs?’

She could count at least seven that were still on the porch. The barking had ceased and their tails wagged happily. The glass was smeared with nose prints and muddy pawprints.

‘Proud dad of twelve,’ he replied with a smirk. ‘Give me a moment to change then I’ll escort you to the party so you don’t need to break the Olympic sprint record on your way back.’

It really did only take him a few moments to emerge from his bedroom in the bungalow in smart black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up to the elbows. He ruffled his auburn hair casually though the crispness of his clothes suggested designer, very expensive designer.

‘So, this ex-boyfriend, how did he wind up at your sister’s engagement party?’ Eris knelt down to lace up his shoes.

‘He is in my youngest sister's friendship group so I think Lucien knows them from Friday evening drinks.’

Eris gave a nod. ‘Azriel?’

‘You know them?’

‘I dated Mor briefly. A long time ago. Dated being a loose sense of the word. Both dates, her friend showed up and started giving me shit that I didn’t deserve her.’ He loosed a dismissive laugh and rose.

‘Was that friend a big bruiser called Cassian?’

Eris grimaced. ‘That’s the one. Oh no. That’s not your one?’

‘Bingo. In my defence, I hadn’t been in the city long and I wasn’t in a good place when we met.’

‘I’ll let you off,’ he said, ‘for your poor tastes. We all make mistakes.’

At the slide of the door, the dogs tried to push their way past Eris to Nesta, more eager with curiosity now rather than out for blood. She shielded herself with his body, making him laugh again. The sound was deep and warmed a part of her.

‘They’re very friendly,’ he insisted, holding out his palm for one to sniff. ‘They’re just not accustomed to beautiful women stampeding through their garden.’

‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’

Hesitantly, Nesta held out her hand. One dog pressed his wet nose to her palm then another nudged that one out of the way to get to her. They were all different breeds, some mixed, some with three legs or one eye. They were all the sorts of dogs that got dumped at a shelter when vet bills became too high.

Eris extended his arm for her to take. ‘If you need assistance today, feel free to use me. I know how they can be - but they can’t stand me. None of them will come near me so I don’t mind if you need to hide by me.’

Nesta slipped her arm into his as they walked across the lawn. ‘You’d be signing yourself up to a whole evening of my company. I won't leave your side.’

The smile he gave her was warm but there was a challenge in his eyes. ‘You say it like it’s a bad thing. Allow me to be your date for today.’

‘You’d pretend to be my boyfriend?’

‘I’ll pretend to be anything you want if it pisses them off.’

***

Eris was a knight in shining armour, sweeping Nesta away whenever they steered too close to the other group. He introduced her to a number for the Vanserra family friends - all of whom seemed to be rich and powerful enough for Nesta to wonder if Elain knew what she was getting herself into. He kept up a lie that they were dating. Both liked yoga, both were early morning people, neither drank, both preferred the autumn. It was easy to pretend when they were so similar. He blessed every pollen laced sneeze, guided her into the marquee when her allergies became too much and genuinely seemed to listen when she spoke.

‘What is the difference between a fun accountant and a regular one then?’

Nesta sipped at her pink lemonade through a straw, keenly aware that Eris watched the movement of her lips. ‘A regular one is boring. I am a fun accountant because companies employ me to audit their accounts. I get to discover which CEO is wiring money to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands or who is skimming off the top for their retirement fund and blow the whistle thereby ruining their fun. There’s a lot of travel involved, but the money is good and I don’t have anybody waiting for me at home.’

‘Do you enjoy it?’

‘It’s not particularly thrilling but numbers are easy.’ She shrugged, ‘I spend a lot of time in hotels or on flights so I get to read and there’s little washing up to do.’

Thankfully at the buffet table, Elain had included a number of vegetarian dishes that Nesta could eat. For once it wasn’t a giant mushroom stuck between a bun.

‘Oh, my father will have a field day if he finds out you're vegetarian,’ Eris snickered. ‘Although the large man at the other end of the marquee is staring at you as if you are dessert.’

Nesta didn’t even need to glance over her shoulder to know that Cassian was haunting her steps. She edged a few inches closer to Eris and then his arm slipped around her waist.

‘Is this okay?’

‘Perfect,’ she murmured, nuzzling against him.

They shared a plate, with Eris opting against any meat options for Nesta’s benefit and sat on a stone bench, hidden away from most of the party. Eris spoke of his work – and his father’s disappointment that he’d chosen architecture rather than law. He said that being paid to argue should have been his dream career making Nesta laugh then.

‘Thank you for saving me at the buffet.’

Eris smiled then pressed a hand over his heart. ‘A hardship I’m happy to undertake. A bad break up?’

‘Awful. Several attempts at breaking up. None of them registering with him. Lots of screaming matches. Lots of “quit your job, it’s emasculating me because you earn so much and I still live with my buddies and wake up hungover every weekend!”.’

‘It doesn’t sound like he’s changed since I knew them. And Morrigan?’

Nesta scrunched up her nose. ‘Oh, you mean, “babe, she’s like my sister! That’s why she sleeps in my bed and doesn’t like other girls talking to me” that Morrigan? The “we slept together once years ago, you’re being paranoid” Morrigan?’

The memories made Nesta shiver. She wasn’t asking to be put on a pedestal. What she wanted was to be considered ahead of Mor from time to time. Or for Mor not to be invited along for every occasion. Especially not to a weekend away on the coast. She’d shown up for Cassian’s birthday and the pair of them had shared the double bed in the hotel while Nesta slept on the couch. That had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

‘Feyre is younger than Elain, isn’t she? And she’s already married to Rhys?’

Urgh. That also made Nesta’s skin crawl. Rhysand was fourteen years older than Feyre. She’d had one high school boyfriend then met him. Within a year, her twenty-one year old sister was married and pregnant. Feyre claimed she was happy as a stay-at-home mom with painting occupying her free time but Nesta saw her more as Rhysand’s trophy wife. That was an argument they’d had before and Rhys had demanded she leave his house. With pleasure, she’d snarled back.

‘Yes, I am the designated spinster of the family.’ Nesta swept her head into a bow. She picked up a small pastry filled with cheese and onion. ‘Cassian used to call this rabbit food. Told me to eat real food. Would always try to kiss me after he’d eaten a steak to piss me off.’

‘He’s a dick. There’s no other way to say it.’

A band had started up or at least, Nesta had thought it was. On closer inspection, five musicians were upon the stage playing light classical music, all in finely tailored clothing. A far more sophisticated affair than Elain and Lucien might have planned. It was definitely not their sort of thing so she wondered how much Lucien’s father had dominated the affair. Certainly the average age of the party was more suited to him than Lucien or Elain – and they were likely his own guests, business associates, clients, or potential clients.

‘Shall we dance?’

Nesta raised her eyebrows in surprise. A man who actually wanted to dance? ‘You’re suggesting this to give me a grope, I suppose?’

Eris tipped back his head with another easy laugh. ‘Is that on the cards? I wouldn’t refuse that. No, I like to dance. I thought you might too. Plus, Cassian and Mor are staring daggers at us so I thought we could have them frothing at the mouth before the evening is done.’

That was all the incentive she needed. Eris pulled her close, hand slipping into her own while another glided around her waist. His body was long and lean, capable of making her feel small without dwarfing her.

After two songs of easy dancing, the tone changed to a slower one. Nesta wasn’t aware of who else was dancing or even who else was in the main marquee. When Eris drew her close enough for their bodies to be flush, all she cared about was her head that rested on his shoulder, the nose brushing against his neck as they danced, his broad hand on her bare back.

To onlookers, it would be cosy, romantic even. Eris allowed her to use him, she reminded herself as her arms enclosed around him. He made a murmur of contentment then his lips brushed against her brow. It shouldn’t have given her butterflies.

‘It’s no wonder Cassian cannot stop staring at you. You are the most beautiful woman in the room.’

She glanced up at Eris but there was nothing playful on his face. Nesta felt dizzy when she looked at him; the clean-shaven face, the hard set of his jaw and golden light in his eyes. He certainly was handsome. And her type. And happy for her to use him however she wanted that evening.

‘He didn’t deserve a moment of your time.’

They danced a little while longer until she hobbled to a table, the balls of her feet aching from her high heels. Warm hands undid the straps around them then Eris was putting his own shoes onto her bare feet, insisting he didn’t care if he wore socks.

‘I’m the eldest,’ he explained, ‘Whatever I do is wrong. Who cares if I wear socks to a party at my own house? What matters more is that you aren’t in pain. I have crocs in the house if you’d prefer those.’

‘Only if they match my dress.’

His arm stayed around her shoulders as they observed the others dancing when the sun began setting. It was pretend, Nesta knew, but part of her enjoyed his touch. She liked when he murmured something in her ear, the timbre of his tone making her knees weak. She liked being able to burrow against him, so his warmth chased away the goosebumps on her skin.

‘Eris, you said you weren’t bringing a plus one.’ A beautiful woman in a sweeping green dress joined their table. Definitely Lucien’s mother from the russet eyes - which made her Eris’ mother too. ‘You’ve hidden her away rather than introducing us.’

Nesta was about to peel herself away from him and declare they were simply pretending to avoid their exes, but Eris tightened his grip around her shoulders. His thumb brushed against her skin.

‘Nesta is Elain’s older sister. We met a few weeks ago through work. I didn’t need a plus one when she was already attending.’ The lie rolled off his tongue so smoothly that Nesta almost believed it herself. ‘There hasn’t been time to introduce her properly plus we didn’t want to detract from Lucien and Elain’s party.’

Satisfied, his mother gave one sharp nod. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Olivia.’ Her auburn hair was drawn into a loose bun and there were freckles across the bridge of her nose. She watched the dancers, eyes tracing over her youngest and Elain. Then, she said with a smile, ‘Perhaps we’ll celebrate your engagement next.’

Nesta nearly choked on her drink, but Eris handled it. ‘When we marry, we are eloping in Vegas. Less fuss.’

He stroked his hand across Nesta’s face, the motion so delicate and caring she almost wanted to run off to a chapel with him.

They ended up at the same table for dinner. She was introduced to more Vanserra brothers - each one either brown or red haired with dark eyes. They spoke crassly of women who were in attendance in a manner Nesta was used to from her work though Eris chided them and apologised. They’d all likely end up as CEOs of companies through their father’s contacts rather than merit.

When it came to the speeches, Nesta’s hands began trembling. Public speaking had never bothered her. She could speak to anybody and never cared for their opinion. But this was somehow different. This was talking about her sister - her favourite person in the world - in front of a bunch of strangers. This would reflect on Elain. She barely listened to Beron speak or Lucien then suddenly all eyes were on her. Somebody had introduced her as the next speaker. Eris gave her a nudge.

‘For those of you who haven’t had the displeasure of coming across me, I am Nesta - Elain’s oldest sister.’ A murmur of laughter from Rhys and Feyre. ‘When our mother died, I kept Elain close. I became fiercely protective of her which poor Lucien found out early on. She came home from work to tell me about a lovely man who bought a bunch of flowers every day from her, who always asked her opinion on the colour scheme and arrangement, and how lucky his girlfriend must be to have a considerate man like him. I had my suspicions. No man buys flowers every day unless he’s constantly in trouble or he wanted an excuse to speak to the beautiful florist.’

Elain and Lucien beamed at each other, both utterly enamoured.

‘We lost our father young and our mother even younger, but I am so proud of who you have become – the way you have grown – despite it all, Elain. You and Lucien are perfect for each other. Your love has been a joy to watch bloom. And I know that Lucien will make you happy. Lucien, just so you know, you will need to find another florist to buy flowers from when you are in trouble.’

There was a ripple of laughter around the room and Lucien gave a sheepish smile to Elain.

‘Any man that can withstand my interrogations without crumbling is worthy of my little sister. To Elain and Lucien.’

A flood of adrenaline washed through Nesta once the speech was done and a toast had been made. Eris squeezed her hand beneath the table. ‘Beautiful speech. Well done.’

***

The alcohol had set in for many, once night had taken hold. A band had arrived, replacing the musicians, playing more upbeat music and current songs. She danced again with Eris; the man insisted on remaining in his socks even as the cotton stuck to the sticky dance floor. He was an easy partner, twirling her, keeping her steady or drawing her in so their bodies brushed against each other. How much of it was faking, she wasn’t sure of because they were both grinning no matter who watched them.

A child cried repeatedly. It became harder and harder to ignore that cry. It was her nephew, tired and miserable, up far past his bed time. Feyre’s cheeks were dotted with colour as she struggled with Nyx. He arched his back, throwing his head back. Rhys took over with no luck.

‘Would you be mad if I swapped you for my nephew?’

‘Have us both,’ Eris said simply, taking her hand and leading her towards the group.

Before any of them could pass a comment on her date for the evening, Nesta extended her arms to Nyx. ‘Come on.’

Those teary blue eyes recognised her and he held out his arms to be taken from Rhys. Feyre sagged with relief.

‘Would you mind? Just for a little while. He’s cutting his back teeth. He won’t settle.’

‘It’s fine,’ Nesta said, avoiding Cassian’s gaze as he tried to get her attention. ‘Enjoy yourself. Has he eaten?’

‘He won’t eat anything,’ Feyre complained.

‘All he’s done is cry,’ Mor muttered.

Eris snorted. ‘I can’t blame him with this company. Shall we go, Nesta?’

A hand was on the small of her back, guiding them away before a swift rebuttal could come. Nyx still grizzled in her arms, tugging at a lock of her hair that he’d pulled out of her coronet even as they weaved their way out.

‘Why is he dressed like somebody’s uncle?’ Eris murmured as they exited the marquee.

Nyx had been stuffed into a tweed suit complete with a waistcoat and bowtie. The night air was cool, but his cheeks were red from teething and crying. Why hadn’t they hired a babysitter and kept him at home – or taken him home early?

Nesta sat on a bench – the same one they’d eaten together on – and began stripping him off. Eris folded each item she handed to him until Nyx was only in a vest and diaper. The relief was instant. He stopped grumbling and flopped his head against Nesta’s breasts. He was the only male allowed to do such a thing. She swept his sweaty black hair out of his face.

Eris lifted Nyx’s foot, inspecting his wiggling toes for a moment then blew on them. The sensation must have tickled him because he tried to jerk away from Eris’ touch. It only spurred him on and soon Nyx was giggling in her lap and kicking his legs away from Eris.

‘First born. Lots of practise,’ he explained.

Nesta knew the feeling. Their father worked non-stop leaving Nesta in charge the majority of the time. He’d never once learned how to do their hair, leaving that to Nesta too. She was the one who pinned up the weekly plan on the fridge detailing when each child had which club after school though as soon as she got her license, Nesta was the one doing pick ups and drop offs. Her life hadn’t much changed after her father’s death. She was already self-sufficient, working and studying. Financially, Nesta did her best to support Elain and Feyre too, but their father’s money quickly ran out when they realised how many gambling debts that he’d racked up on his business trips. Feyre wouldn’t hear a bad word about him – and Nesta had to wonder if that’s why she married a wealthy older man so quickly.

‘I have the perfect remedy for a teething baby.’

Eris gestured for her to follow him. He weaved through the crowds easily, reaching his hand behind him to guide them all the way to his annexe. Every now and then he’d check over his shoulder and pause to pull them both a little closer.

In his freezer, Eris pulled out homemade ice lollies made of puréed fruit.

‘You make these?’

He blushed slightly. ‘I try to be healthy but I have a major sweet tooth. Can he have one?’

Nyx was already reaching out his hand for it. Nesta had cemented her position as his favourite adult by being the fun one who gave him sugar, so an ice lolly before bed wouldn’t hurt.

‘Berries or apple and kiwi?’ Eris asked. Nyx reached for the green one. ‘Would you like one?’

‘No, you can have it.’

Eris’ face lit up and he dragged his tongue up the length of it.

They sat outside of his house where a couple of the dogs had come to greet them. Nyx watched them with curiosity as he dribbled cold juice down his chin. Eris didn’t hesitate to retrieve a tissue from Nesta’s handbag to clean him. Her heart almost exploded from her chest at the sight of it. A man who liked children and had a good job and was handsome and single. It didn’t seem possible. He was too good to be true.

He snapped a few pictures of Nesta and her nephew on his phone, smiling at them as he swiped through.

‘We don’t have to pretend here.’

‘Maybe I like pretending with you,’ he admitted. ‘Can I show him the dogs?’

Nyx went to him readily. Eris squatted down, balancing the baby on his knee as a hobbling chocolate Labrador with a grey muzzle greeted them. A small hand reached out.

‘Gently,’ Nesta encouraged.

Eris held onto Nyx’s hand, guiding him as he stroked the various dogs that came over for a fuss. One with a face like it had ran into a wall kept licking Nesta’s bare calf until she was giggling and tugging her legs up out of the way.

They stayed that way for a while, neither talking much as Nyx’s eyelids grew heavy. The sound of the band was faint, carrying to Eris’ garden on the breeze. The Vanserras were wealthy beyond belief but Lucien was a nice man - and Eris seemed to be the same way.

‘Why are you single?’ She blurted out.

Eris cocked his head to the side. A light wind blew strands of his auburn hair. Nyx had his cheek pressed to Eris’ chest, blinking heavily at Nesta. A small hand wrapped around Eris’ index finger.

‘Several reasons. One – I tend not to go out as many women are interested in my surname or my family’s wealth. Two – I’m a bit of a workaholic. Three – A woman has to like all twelve of my dogs. Four – my father is an absolute bastard and I don’t want any woman exposed to that. Do you need any more?’

‘Five – your bone structure will make any woman envious,’ Nesta said, brushing her thumb against his chiselled cheek bone.

She considered what Eris had said. Her mind had leapt to Elain and what she was letting herself in for with a father-in-law who cared little for the damage left in his wake as long as he profited. Elain could be sensitive, taking comments to heart. She had to hope that Lucien would step between them if anything occurred. Nesta glanced sidelong at Eris. Twelve dogs wasn’t a dealbreaker. She was a workaholic. She also didn’t like meeting men or one-night stands. No, it was silly to think that way. Silly to consider what Eris had said. They were only pretending so that Cassian would leave her alone.

‘He’s asleep,’ Nesta whispered, smoothing Nyx’s black hair from his forehead.

Eris had him cradled against his chest, so that a chubby arm dangled down. His mouth was open, deep in slumber. The sugar had the opposite effect, but at least her nephew was content now.

‘Do you want children?’

Eris raised his chin, grinning slightly. ‘Are you offering? It might take a few tries but the practise is most of the fun.’

Her cheeks scorched and Nesta could not look him in the eye. What could she reply to that? Nothing. Her tongue was in a knot. Eris nudged her with his elbow, grinning again.

‘You’re even more beautiful when you blush.’

‘Stop pretending.’

‘You think I’d lie? You wound me.’ His hand stroked the back of Nyx’s head softly, smoothing down the curling ends of it.

Nesta shuffled closer to Eris then he draped his arm around her waist. She couldn’t say how long they stayed there for simply enjoying the quiet of a summer night.

‘We can pretend again at the wedding if you like.’

‘I would like that,’ she confirmed. The thought of being a bridesmaid in a yellow dress on a hot beach and ensuring everything went smoothly for Elain’s day was already stressing Nesta – but if Cassian was leering at her or trying to cause an argument, her temper might go into overdrive.

‘I’d be happy to be your shield again.’

‘More than a shield, you’ve been my hero today.’ She stretched out her legs, making the too big shoes on her feet wobble. Eris had been wonderful. ‘Sprinting across your lawn chased by a pack of dogs and breaking into your house has got to be one of the best decisions I’ve made this year.’

‘In fairness to you, the door was unlocked.’ Eris leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. ‘You know that if you catch the bouquet at the wedding, my mother will ensure we get married.’

Nesta winked. ‘I’ll do my best to catch it then.’

#neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #fake dating au

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dobiemart · 2 years

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good looking boy

pairing, kurtis “kurt” kunkle x reader

summary, general n’ relationship headcanons abt kurt that i wrote in the shower cause i get to do what i want

word count, 2.1k

byr, i got a new new job cause sitting on my ass doesn’t pay the netflix subscriptions, so excuse my absence for the past couple of days. PLEAAAAASSEEE IVE BEEN ADJUSTING LET ME LIVE

ill totally answer some asks asap cause i love you sm and i totally wanna write what yall wanna read, just give me a couple of years seconds :)

also i havent watched spree in a good minute and i didnt feel like rewatching it so if mr kunkle is ooc ignore it

(p.s. i wrote this while eating drinking? chocolate vanilla mixed pudding out of a straw. you’re welcome for that information.)

warnings, fluff and nsfw content but no actual smut, swearing, car sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, dry humping, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mentions of murder, one mention of a breeding kink, one mention of pregnancy, one mention of cutting (not sh & very consensual!), one mention of emotional manipulation, kurt being icky wicky but still a cutie

sfw

im kinda shocked that ppl still love kurt but like ME TOO

i cannot stress the fact that kurt is a stalky perv at first enough. the first time you get in his car he instantly saves the footage and uses it for extra curricular activities.

he's genuinely willing to follow you around in his spree. he’ll wait outside for hours in front of any building you go to. the other passengers can wait, right?

he’d totally plug his socials in his regular socially awkward way, but stutters more than usual while he does it. (boooo. tomato tomato tomato tomato.)

along with shoving his socials down your throat, he’ll ask for yours back. even if you don’t give it to him, he’ll find it. he’d know practically everything about you after your first meeting. he has your address, where you go to work/school, what your third favorite meal is, how you did your hair in 2nd grade, etc.

totally tries to flirt with you and miserably fails to the point where it makes you physically cringe multiple times. he probably searched up how to flirt on wikihow a couple minutes before he picked you up.

let's be real here. kurt smells like pennies and bacon grease with the teeny tiniest bit of vape juice and dollar store body spray. his car always smells good, though.

after your first couple of drives, he gets the courage to finally ask you to go out with him. not without stuttering to all hell and having a camera somewhere, of course. it’s quality content for the kurties!

once you say yes and get through the little pre-dating stage, this pervy bitch is the cutest, nastiest, most loveable motherfucker you’ll ever see. buckle up mf

our favorite boy has the same amount of game that a middle school boy would have. you could be years into your relationship and he would still say stuff like “are you lightning? cause’ you could be my queen.”

his viewers don’t believe he has a girlfriend at all. you really gotta make sure to tell them you aren’t kidnapped or being forced to be in a relationship with him.

brings you everywhere with him, no matter what. he might leave you back in his room when hes filming #TheLesson, but if you wanted to tag along he wouldn’t mind having you there.

he gets sick really easily cause his immune system isn’t immune to dog shit. i swear he’ll be fine one day then sneeze his ass off the next.

calls you the most random damn nicknames you’ll ever see. he’d definitely call you shit like “my little soda pop gummy bear” or “the barbecue to my chili” along with the normal baby and sweetheart stuff. (I SAW A HC THAT HE CALLS YOU HIS FAV KURTIE ONCE AND OMFG IT AIN'T TRUE)

please call him pretty. call him anything, for that matter. if its coming from your mouth, he’d love it. call him trash for all he cares, he’d be your trash anyday (same you lil hottie) <3

im gonna assume he's constantly on tiktok along with every other platform he could possibly be on 24/7. his screen time is a lil too high (same) but what did you expect. on top of that, his volume is constantly on 100 and he doesn’t like wearing headphones, so good luck with that.

kurt is always cold. his body is simply built differently. so instead of you putting your hands under his shirt, he’d put his under yours. (and would totally be offended and take it to heart if you don't want his icicle hands on you.)

the absolute biggest attention whore ive ever seen. cuddling, hugs, hand holds, kisses, etc. 24/7. literally he’s fine with just being in your presence all day. wha- what do you mean you wanna run errands? who the fuck needs your time when kurie needs it more?

although hes an attention whore, kurt also needs his space and alone time. when he leaves, he leaves for a reason. don’t follow him out, don’t pester him when he gets back. unless you really wanna see why he loves “fuck, marry, kill.” so much. (goofy ahh threat)

you best believe most of the lovey dovey things in your relationship are gonna be streamed and recorded. not absolutely everything but enough to have a couples tiktok account together.

most definitely drops an L bomb during the first couple of weeks. he’s never had someone like you, and he doesn’t wanna let you go either. not that he’d actually let you go, anyway.

very whiny. like he's an actual man child, especially when he’s denied anything. (flashbacks to when you told him he couldn’t stream you doing random shit throughout your day.)

this bitch CANNOT see and i'll stand by that with my life. kurtie wears contacts. once in every blue moon he’ll actually let you see him with his chunky framed glasses on, but don’t post any pictures of him with them. he has a reputation to uphold, y/n!

he forgets to take care of himself all the time. shove him into a good steamy shower and get him to eat something other than a lunchable and can of off brand pepsi.

him getting up to lock his door after his mom walks in on you cuddling for the first time. he probably gets a padlock and a door stopper just to make sure it doesn’t happen again. (giving two middle school kids)

probably has a shrine of things he stole you gave him for whenever you're not there. it’s filled with everything from stuffed animals, to polaroid pictures of you sleeping. you don’t know about it and he’ll probably never tell you where it is.

not only does he giggle while he laughs, the mf snorts and clutches his stomach for dear life. it looks like his entire body is going through a stage 4 earthquake.

gets into fierce arguments with the 12 year olds he plays with. im talking full screaming matches at ungodly hours of the night. (morning? morning. no it’s night- WAIT-)

“NO YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOGSHIT BRO! YOU LITERALLY DIED BEFORE ME-“

“kurtis. if you yell into that damn mic one more damn time–“

i wouldn’t say he’s incredibly toxic, but kurt can damn well manipulate any situation that he wanted. it’s a common tactic he’s used since he was a kid, and that wont change when it comes to you.

he has a cracked ass phone screen. literally pieces of glass are missing and he thinks it’s completely normal. please get him a screen protector asap

kicks his feet when he lays on his stomach. y'all cannot tell me he doesn't cause i won't listen whatsoever

please tell him to shut the hell up about his damn sub count. genuinely the amount of times he brings up views and likes during the day instead of regular human conversations is concerning. (THERAPY YOUR HONOR THERAPPYYY)

nsfw

kurt is a virgin. you know this, his passengers know this, everybody knows kurtie gets absolutely NO bitches. zero. zilch. damsels? non existent for him.

he’s never had anybody as intimate as you before you came around, so he's instantly hooked after your first kiss together.

loud. super loud. volume at 110% typa loud. i just cannot picture him being quiet whatsoever. he has to moan/whine/whimper, so on and so forth.

him being extremely verbal isn’t always subjected to sexual situations, either. you could give him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and he’d groan super loud over the fact that your hands were on him.

if you're into it, he’s obviously gonna film it. y’know how famous he could get from a sextape, y/n? followers galore. he’d never actually share you though. they can look but they can’t touch.

kurtie likes boobies, but he also likes thighs. he wouldn’t say no to a fat ass, yet tummies are so appealing to him- he likes everything. just the fact that you’re his and he can actually touch any part of you is good for him.

cries when he cums. actually sobs. legitimately starts weeping. is the definition of ‘crying a river.’ its even better when he's overstimulated. (i just want one piece sir)

anotha one of those mfs that loves the idea of breeding, but would absolutely panic if he actually managed to get you pregnant. but then again, he could make a family channel! just think about the views it would rack up–

okay so kurt obviously isn’t the biggest dicked bitch in the neighborhood, but when he learns how to actually use what he’s got the sex is immaculate. jaw dropping, toe curling, has you smiling n giggling at the dinner table typa good.

stop drop and roll, halt, and pause cause imagine cockwarming him in his gaming chair until it’s eventually too much for him to handle, him putting his headset on you and giving you a severe case of wobbly legs.

could and will kill for you without an issue. he’s a scrawny little piece of shit, but man is he strong. mentally and physically. anybody you want, he’d find them for you. would probably also come home covered in blood and wanna give you a hug or some shit. (ew, kurtis.)

bucks his hips into your mouth while you give him head. at first it was an accident, then he realised what he was doing. he totally could stop it but the sounds of you gagging around him make him feel proud of himself.

i feel like he’d like having some music on during sex, but he’ll turn it of midway in the session cause he wants to hear every single sound you make. he can tell how much you’re enjoying it that way.

kurt has totally jacked off while you were in the same room. he especially likes to do it while you're napping in his bed. i

don’t know why, he doesn’t know why, he just likes to do it.

grips on any and everything in sight and doesn't let go. seriously, you gotta pry him off of you before his nails start digging too hard.

he blows condom balloons. you cannot look me in the eyes tell me kurtis kunkle hasn’t drawn a face on a blown up condom and given it to a person in his spree

he humps you like an actual bitch in heat. like you could be chill as hell on a random sunday evening and BAM the white man pounces and he’s rutting against you like his damn life depends on it.

he’s probably watched enough porn to know what a little bit of aftercare is, but was super awkward about it the first time. literally grabbed your sweaty body and gave you a side hug with a special high five.

as much as i'd love to say kurtie is a certified bottom, he could totally dom whenever he wanted to. basically switches as quickly as he did when he told jessie she wasn’t going back to her home anytime soon.

let's sit up here and be honest. if kurt is eating you out it isn’t for you, its for him. he takes pleasure in stuffing his face between your legs for hours on end. he tries to inconspicuously rut against the bed, but we all know what he’s doing.

imagine flirting with somebody in his spree as a joke, and him being dangerously silent about it until they get out of the car. if you could get a noise complaint from a vehicle, you’re getting one that day.

literally do anything to him. he’s fine with it. you wanna choke him? sure! you wanna cut him? only if you use the hello kitty blade. you wanna bite him? he's offering several limbs in your direction.

kurtie babe starts babbling when he gets close enough to cumming, especially when he decides to be talkative. it’ll turn from stable dirty talk to incoherent slurred words.

when he eventually learns that an awkwardly sweaty side hug doesn’t fit as aftercare, he asks you what you’d like him to do for you. he’s officially maid kurt when it comes down to taking care of your needs.

the bath is ready, with your salts and bath bombs of choice, as well as the tower of bubbles that’ll take forever to go away. a pair of matching onesies and fuzzy socks are ready for both of you to slip into when you’re done soaking.

he falls asleep pretty quick, but he’ll try to stay up most of the time. one time he got into the tub before you and knocked out to the point where he didn’t know where he was when he woke up.

wsp baby dicks and mama chicks :)

man oh man i havent been able to write anything in forever i was so sad abt it

idk if people still read abt kurt but i personally do and ill read my own shit if i have to

idk what else to put here except for the fact that likes n reblogs are appreciated and my nose is really cold and tysm for reading you hottie mctotties

- cora, the stressed out mother of 5 dog babies

#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle x y/n #kurt kunkle x you #kurt kunkle #kurtsworld96 #spree 2020 #spree movie #joe keery

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mushroom-circles · 9 months

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Listen I haven’t watched 9-1-1 in like a year but. AU - you can hear what your soulmate is thinking but only if it’s absentminded/not conscious

Athena & Micheal used to be soulmates but started hearing other ppls voices like overlapping radio stations, Athena usually hears recipes from Bobby and the first time she heard “and now for the secret ingredient: love. Also know as an extra teaspoon of cocoa” she laughs for the first time since her and Micheal had the divorce conversation- Bobby usually hears police codes or Athena turning cases over in the back of her mind, especially the ones she has personal history with, used to hear his wife but yk how that ended up and he hadn’t heard anything but silence until he started opening up to people bc the universe is a bitch who knows what’s best for you even if you don’t

Listen. Eddie used to hear Shannon’s to-do lists for every day and yes it did make him feel both connected to Chris and like a bad father why do you ask? During/after the tenseness and then her leaving for her mom and staying gone he started hearing fun or “fun” facts like that mini golf used to be called Tom Thumb golf or that earwax is actually a type of sweat (??) Buck hears Eddie’s worries bc I love that man but he do be an absent minded worrier, some of it not bad like wondering if Chris is going to bring up mummification practices at dinner AGAIN and he’ll have to pretend like he doesn’t turn green bc he wants to encourage his kid’s interests but some of it heavy like the Texas period where he had three jobs and was worried about bills and not being there for his kid even if he was more present than he has been since he left for the army

Maddie hears hypothetical questions and pop culture references. She’s convinced Doug is her soulmate bc maybe he takes her to the movies their first date and mentions all these Hollywood classics that she’d never seen? And even when it turns out he doesn’t want to experience them WITH her he just likes to talk about something she’ll listen to and won’t have any opinions about she kind of smooths it over, confirmation bias yk. But he never once asks her about her plans for the future and there’s. That. And when shit happens she thinks about the latest question her soulmate would’ve asked her maybe as a distraction or something for the future? By the time she meets Chim she’s made plans for almost anything including time travel, zombie apocalypse, and suddenly becoming allergic to bubble gum. Chim thinks about a lot of different things ok. He swears he and his soulmate kept each other motivated bc Maddie would be thinking encouraging things while studying for a test or quiz in Anatomy (or another nursing class what am I a paramedic?) and realize they were both if not studying the exact same thing having a theoretical study session. It would move on to Maddie maybe thinking about things not to do? Even writing this is ugh but. Trying not to make Doug mad in a thousand and one little ways until it stops and he’s so scared bc what happened? But when he hears her running through her checklist/procedure for getting out of there, getting a little more foolproof every time, it’s the biggest fucking relief because he couldn’t do shit when he didn’t even know who she was. When he has his first random run of the mill thought since what was presumably Maddie’s residency he cries

And Karen and Hen!! Karen definitely gets a lot of statistics at first I think, from Hen’s job as an insurance agent and then when she starts studies her ass off to be a paramedic yk that’s the only thing for a while. And well. Don’t know if the infidelity still happens in this universe but can you imagine how chrushing it would be to have one of the thoughts she hears after she and Hen are married be don’t tell Karen or smthg and then have that be the way she finds out abt Eva and Hen meeting up? The angst. Hen hears calculations and know her soulmate is going to be brilliant even before she starts getting into the serious stuff bc sometimes they’ll skip like a record and she’ll go from one side of the equation to the other with no thought in between (which does fuck with Hen sometimes maybe? Like why is she only getting incomplete thoughts? Are they not fully soulmates/is something changing (bc YES in this universe soulmates can change bc you are an ever evolving person and so is everyone else, you’re not going to be perfect for the same person your whole life) and maybe that’s part of the events that lead to Eva happening? And like obviously it’s not Karen’s fault it’s just a sign that humans are emotionally lead and messy etc.) and when she meets literal rocket scientist Karen everything just kind of… clicks. And if they do have the Eva mess to go through I think they should both still have to work for each other? Like yes you’re soulmates but that doesn’t mean you just accept that and never worry about your relationship again, you have to adapt evolve grow with hardships and joy. (I like to think that Karen has at least one “well of course it’s not rocket science or else I’d be able to DO it” thought every time someone says that phrase and it always makes Hen warm and fuzzy because that was part of how they found each other)

Anyway many thoughts for a fic I will probably never write

#911 #9-1-1 #these got longer and longer as I went on

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steveniskewl444 · 2 years

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yo yo this is my first post on the hellsite. so hello hi, my name is Steve (you can call me Steven tho), I am 18 (bodily 17), my pronouns are he/him (I’d prefer you just use my name, sometimes I just don’t feel like pronounce), I am arospec and homosexual with an exclusive attraction to men — based on their gender ofc, don’t care abt your down there — and enbies who are man-aligned or whatever. i don’t feel too much romantic fluff and am not into it, but i’m still positive about romance overall.

here are some of my stances, takes, some stuff abt me in general idk, to help you out in (not) interacting with this blog muahaha:

gays should have the exact amount of rights as straights, but preferably we should be liberated from shitty heternormative society

i hate cancel culture, but i love people being taken accountable. don’t police others for liking a “problematic” person, just point out if they’re a dick sucker.

i hate terminally online shit so much pls don’t bring your terminally online bullshit on this blog. YOU WILL BE IGNORED AND/OR BLOCKED.

people whose sexual action is being into children or into animals shouldn’t be here. you all make me throw up.

don’t come here if you unironically say “slayyyy” or “you ate 🤪” or any other white queer appropriation of AAVE every 5 seconds. you can say “slay” or any other AAVE phrase, but if your skin looks like milk and not like espresso coffee, then you’re on thin ice.

people who are like “umm bi lesbeans aren’t real 🥺🥺🥺” who gives a shit who gives a shit WHO GIVES A SHIT??? don’t come here if you’re like that.

people who are against the ocean turian/uranian flag (don’t care + didn’t ask + white + L + ratio) shouldn’t come here at all. i could give less of a fuck. uranians be damned, THE FACT WE HAVE FLAGS OF OUR OWN IS ENOUGH. SHUT UP ALREADY AND ADMIT THAT ENBIES CAN LIKE BLUE TOO, WHY DO YOU GENDER COLORS? or “nooo they stole it from lesbans 🥺🥺🥺” WHO GIVES A FUCK ?????!!!!??? ITS FINE TO TAKE INSPIRATION Y’ALL + THE POINT IS THAT THEY MATCH YOU BITCHES

i am, generally speaking, a leftist. I appreciate this whole idea of workers owning the means of production but not only. I also appreciate this one thing, it begins with an A, arachnids or something, idk. oh, anarchy!! that one!!! yeah, if you’re a hardcore ML, maybe this isn’t the place for you.

I am Christian so please don’t disrespect my religion. I am not practicing but I still believe in my Lord Jesus Christ, for only He can save me from this hellhole. i think he’s fine with homosexuals too, the Bible generally condemned pederasty (the totally not MAP act of older men having sex with younger twinks during the Ancient era, which ofc is a stupid as fuck practice!!!), NOT HOMOSEXUAL BEHAVIOR BETWEEN TWO CONSENTING ADULTS HOLY FUCK !!!! Plus if y’all don’t allow us to marry, am I supposed to forever not fuck a man?!?? (no sex before marriage y’all!!)

if you’re younger than, idk, the age of consent in most European countries, you shouldn’t be on this blog. I may post some… slightly NSFW stuff from time to time. (NOT an NSFW blog tho!!!!)

anyone who says “fiction doesn’t affect reality 🤓” or “fiction doesn’t affect reality 1:1 🤓” is a mindless zombie who can’t be critical of what they consume and tolerate the fucked up portrayal of… MAP behavior, of Catholic priest behavior, ya know, in a “haha this is good quirky soooo romantic woowww 🤪🤪🤪” way, and you shouldn’t even look at me in the eyes. yes, you know yourselves.

I LOVE MUSCULAR MEN!!!! I LOVE JACKED UP MEN WHO ARE MASCULINE JUST LIKE I AM!!!! I LOVE MEN WHOSE MUSCLES ARE HUGE!!!! I LOVE FIT MEN!!!! MEENNNNNNNNN!!!!!!

I love a bit of footy, a bit of pop music (ya know, Katy Perry, Taylor Swift, Lady Gaga, that shit slaps and is not for effeminate twinks or white valley girls only), I love Kumalala especially, I uhh love linguistics, I love many things… except for love itself 😌.

Anyhow ahoy, i hope y’all will… tolerate me i guess. host calls me “problematic” and has beef with me, tell @anarchobasil they’re wrong whenever they shit talk abt me pls. When I say “probelmatic” stuff I am ironic 99.9% of the time. I am a very huge ally for everyone, don’t care. and uhhh that’s it????

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nemjun · 5 months

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please tell me every detail of u and tsukasa because I am beyond obsessed with you two

would you believe I had 2 whole ass paragraphs written when i switched tabs and lost it all??? this is hell, tumblr is hell.

annyways YES OK SELFSHIP SATURDAY LETS GO, UNDER A CUT BC IM SHY AND IM GONNA BE RAMBLY. TLDR, summed up as Me and the Bad Bitch I pulled by Being Autistic

I GOTTA BE HONEST, tsukasa was not it for me when i first started the series, but i was also busy chewing furiously on senku bc he's Neat. but I was sunk after we found out about Mirai he loves her SO MUCH. big stronk man good with children is an instant K.O., i was smitten so quick.

Dr Stone is actually the first series i ever Blatently self inserted into! it was a really good fit and I felt that i could just, genuinely suit the story setting bc 1) ADHD has blessed me with sprawling random curiosities and an accumulation of trivial but Useful knowledge and 2) I literally studied archaeology for my B.A. and bc I live in Canada most of our archaeologoy is based on the Indigenous population who was still using stone technology when first contact with europeans occurred. random note for anyone who might be parusing, the 'ages of history' such as stone, bronze, and iron, didn't occur across all of civilization unilaterally, and the technology used by people is not an indication of civility or advancement of a social group. Anyways.

My real life plan for after I finished Uni was to go and teach english in asia! This didn't happed for various reasons, but it presents a good opportunity for bending realty into fitting me into the series, ehe. I genuinley think it would be really funny if I got revived by the Tsukasa empire by complete accident, busting outta the stone speaking minimal japanese and being a literal scientist by education - i was put here to cause problems on purpose. Tsukasa and I would absolutely start out as bumping heads, not quiet immediatley but as someone Anti smashing people and pro science it gets hostile fast. Arguments are conducted largely thru translations via Ukyo, who i quickly grow attached to as the only person capable of commincating in fluent english (we also have birthdays close together and I Adore that, we're birthday buddies, v cute stuff) I gotta sidetrack for a second bc as much as I love this series theres SO MUCH STUFF THAT JUST ISNT ADDRESSED AND I GET ITS JUST A MANGA BUT IM A WEIRDO. like, what about the bees??? they were just chill after having simbiotic relationships with humans for thousands of years?? sure y not. k sorry

I do wonder tho, if Tsukasa would see me as a threat to the stability of his Empire. Even with poor communication with the majority of the group, I've got a decent set of leadership skills and a lil bit of charisma, and who wouldn't like me really - esp with all the useful knowledge i can bring to the table (yes im hyping myself but its also true, i know how to do pottery and i've experience with stone tools & the types of stone you can use). I think even if he did, I'd really only get put in time out if I was causing problems, and like Taiju and Yuzuriha I might have someone keeping an eye on me. Thing's between me and Tsukasa start to change when we manage to find common ground, using him to practice japanese and finding out about his sister and his feelings about wealth etc - admittedly this was Not Well convayed in the anime, but when he's beaten up while getting seashells on the beach, the adult is yelling at him bc he doesn't want kids running around and stealing from 'his' beach. And his mom sucks too. I think that's something we could bond over, having lousy times growing up. I think he'd also be sensitive to the fact that I'm so far from Home and all my friends and Family, he's very thoughtful like that.

Man this is already reallly long and i dont feel like I've really said much, but I think when it comes down to it, Tsukasa and I just share a lot of the same values. He's strong and kind and good hearted, and that makes me feel safe. He's just very caretaker coded to me and after thinking about it the last few days, i think thats something I'm really looking for in a partner. I think I also balance him out a little bit, make him look at a bigger picture and slow down to enjoy simpler things. When we start to get along a little bit, I like to think that I'd accompany him on simple outings to forage or something, or maybe I'd be able to drag him away for a little while to show him something Neat, or getting to teach him something. He teaches me how to fight a little bit as well, so that I'm better able to take care of myself.

I think that's all I've got for now, but it's nice to sit and think about it and write it down, maybe I'll do a lil more writing over the next few days :3 OH I ALMOST FORGOT, i did a star chart love compatability thing and what I got to read for free was SO FUNNY like, he's enchanted by my whimsy lmao

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musicrunsthroughmysoul · 7 months

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youtube

Not only do I prefer the demo version musically, but lyrically it seems more cohesive than the studio version.

Like, omg no, why did he get rid of this verse (which, upon a bit of research, because I'm not a songwriter, I believe is actually the bridge!):

"I never dream of times like these When all my time is never free And every tear drawn face we see Is hung on you and me"

It's absolutely related to the rest of the song!!! Hello!!!? (I also love the commentary of "When all my time is never free"...it's very "Belief in the Small Man" to me, in terms of thematic similarities and how Big Country progressed as a band and still retained their values in their music. ...up to Peace in Our Time, anyway. *coughs* Don't look at me about anything later.) The next part of the bridge (unless it's considered an entirely separate bridge...I'm not a songwriter, as I already mentioned, so I do not know!) doesn't fit quite as well to me, though, even though conceptually I love it and I'm curious if Stuart Adamson ever reused it for another song.

Anyway, I also love this demo version lyrically because, as compared to the studio version, it's very 'Hello yes I'm putting all of my emotional baggage on you* and I can only be happy if you accept it without expecting any reciprocity from me, thank' but THE DEMO VERSION'S LYRICS NOTABLY DO NOT DO THAT!

*Whether he's talking about a partner or his homeland/country and countrymen, it's still kind of manipulative to me because, again, he makes no mention of 'If you do this for me, I'll do it back on your behalf,' so that's SHITTY! 😞 And it is, in fact, the opposite example of why I love "Wonderland" so much! So that makes the studio version of "I Could Be Happy Here" feel regressive. 🙃

Although I personally do not get what in the hell he meant by "If you could take my pride/If you could take my tears/If you could take my side/If you could take my fears/If you could turn the tide/You could be happy here" because that sounds like 'Here's my emotional baggage; NOW YOU CAN BE HAPPY [WITH IT]'???????????????? I'm sorry, WHAT. Hm...I guess it's just a good thing that was scrapped from the studio version, because, um, yeah...what. YIKES.

But after that bizarre verse, he gives us both of these verses:

"I will take my love I will take my stand I will be the one I will show my hand I will never run I will be happy here"

(Finally, a bitch takes responsibility! Good - THANK YOU!) And:

"We’re gonna use our love We’re gonna take a stand We’re gonna be the one We’re gonna show our hand We’re gonna never run We are happy here We can be happy here"

So he's not only taking responsibility, but it's implied that he shares it equally - and whether that's in a hopeful and hypothetical way or whether it's active (I could see it both ways, personally), the important thing is that it's still an equal effort. Yes, that fucking matters! Also, I'm intrigued by the first time he changes the verb type in the last lines of the verses "could/will" from a modal verb to a supporting verb "are" in the line "We are happy here"; it's the first time he switches from uncertainty with "could/will" to absolute, present tense certainty of "we are" (although to me it loses a lot of its power when he immediately returns to the modal verb of "we can")...I'm not sure why he did that, except that "we are" happens to follow the pattern of the rest of the "we're" contractions in the verse's anaphora (which I had to look up as I am very much not an expert in poetry - it's the practice of word or phrase repetition at the beginning of a group of poetic lines), but then to not only break the anaphora but return to the hypothetical context of so much of the rest of the song feels like a letdown! Oh, well - at least the final verse brings back the supporting verb of "are" for "And we are happy here" as the final two lines! :') So that's something to look forward to, literally, in the rest of the song.

#please don't be offended by my use of bitch (gender neutral). I mean it affectionately! and exasperatedly. lol #anyway I came home from work and getting my/the latest COVID booster and wrote this in 1.5 hours HELLO HELLOOOOOOO #I don't know why I did but I love this song and I wanted to think deeper about it I guess!#and now I'm listening to it on repeat :') so I am happy in this musical moment ❤❤❤❤❤ pun intended. :)#crystal visions of lilies in the valley #lyric analysis #Big Country

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isolavirtuosa · 2 years

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Cass & Dean's Infinite and Beyond Playlist 21-26

[fanfiction] Dean/Castiel

Canon Compliant Coda / Sequel to Cass & Dean's Infinite Playlist

The one where Cass makes a Daddy Issues playlist.

Referenced songs playlist on Spotify.

Parts 21-26/26 under the cut. Previous parts here.

- 21 -

I was stone-cold sober the first time Castiel casually suggested, “I know you are still wary of a penis, but how about a finger?” and immediately regretted my new teetotaling path, especially when he added, “or a tongue?” with nothing more than a casual head tilt.

My angel was filthy sometimes.

He’d been deeply irritated to find out that he was not in fact the first person to stick a finger in there during a hummer, and that he probably could have been doing it all along if he’d asked sooner.

Maybe we all were a little irritated by that.

Anyway, we’d finally gotten there, and the prostate was a magical thing.

It was just that sometimes when we were making out, as we were currently doing on my couch, with me straddling Cass and grinding on him like a bitch in heat, that I started wanting… more.

And I couldn’t put into words what that more was, but I could definitely feel it right now, hot and hard and pushing into me without actually pushing into me, and I just wanted.

“Dean,” Cass murmured into my jaw, kissing me gently. “What do you need?”

I made a noise that one might describe as a helpless whine but I preferred to call a manly protestation.

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing my back soothingly even as his hips were continuing that very sinful undulation.

I made that noise again, and I hated it, I wanted to speak clearly and tell Cass what I needed, but every time I grasped for the words, nothing came out but that damn noise.

“It’s okay,” he repeated, dragging kisses up to my temple. “Dean, it’s okay to want what you want.”

I whimpered, letting go of the back of the couch that I’d been using for leverage and throwing my arms around Cass, hiding my face in his neck.

He held me tightly, still rocking his hips up, and I was a mess. “Do you want me to take care of you?” he asked gently.

“Yes!” I cried, feeling desperate. “Please. Please.”

“Of course I’ll take care of you, Dean.”

“Please,” I repeated. “PleasePleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Shhh, of course,” he murmured, taking over completely as he laid me on my back, undressing me in showers of kisses before turning his mouth to Other Purposes.

I was really and truly a mess now, but I’d already made Cass practice saying ‘Dean Winchester never cries during sex’ until he was convincing, so it was okay if a few tears slipped out. It was all okay, because this was just between me and Cass, but even then, even knowing that, I still couldn’t say it, I couldn’t tell him what I wanted.

He knew, obviously, but he never pushed, especially not when we were already in flagrante and all the blood that was supposed to be going to my brain to help me make good decisions was being diverted down south.

Maybe I needed him to push, though, because I didn’t know if I could ever actually say it out loud.

But the more Cass’s mouth worked, the quieter that desperate voice in my head got, and slowly the frustration ebbed away until everything was just… awesome.

“You’re okay?” he asked when he finally came up for air.

“Better than okay, darlin’,” I slurred at him, running my fingers through his hair.

His face was still all pinched with worry.

“None of that,” I scolded him. “C’mere.”

He scrambled up to meet me, lips touching mine reverently.

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart,” I told him, wrapping my fingers around his flagging erection and bringing it back to life. “So, so good.”

Cass sat up and pulled me back into his lap, letting me take him to to the finish line with some expert wrist action.

I would have liked to do more for him, but I was all sated and sleepy, and for some reason I couldn’t stop kissing Cass’s mouth long enough to put my mouth to Other Purposes.

He didn’t seem to have any complaints about it, sighing his contentment into his kisses. “That was wonderful, Dean, thank you.”

“It was just a handy,” I mumbled, because this angel of mine friggin’ thanked me for handjobs like I’d just saved the world from the next apocalypse.

“The pleasure you give me is immeasurable within the fabric of space and time.”

“Jesus.”

He studied my face, that wrinkle appearing again.

I reached up to smooth it out.

“Dean, are you unsatisfied?” he asked, sounding self-conscious.

“Do I look unsatisfied?” I asked with a snort.

He paused, his head tilting to the side before a smile slowly appeared. “No, you look like… like the ‘cat’ that got the ‘cream’.”

“Mm hm,” I agreed, licking his nose just to watch him wrinkle it.

“Okay,” he said, but there was still uncertainty in his voice.

“Are you unsatisfied?” I asked, feeling my orgasm high starting to fade.

“No, of course not,” he said, touching my cheek gently.

“I mean, I shoulda gone down on you, I know, but I just-”

“Sex is not transactional, Dean,” he said firmly, because we’d had this conversation more than once.

“Yeah, but-”

“Stop,” he said with a frown.

I bit my lip.

“I know what you want, Dean.”

My eyes darted to the side.

“And I feel… inadequate when I cannot make you feel comfortable enough to ask for what you want.”

“It’s not you, man.”

“I know that, much as you know that you do not need to fellate me because I have just fellated you, that you do not need to make sure I ejaculate first to be allowed to ejaculate yourself, or any of the other rules you have tried to impose on our sexual relations.”

“Just say ‘blow job’, Cass.”

He leveled me with a very unimpressed look.

I grinned at him.

“You’re trying to change the subject.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Blow job,” he said in a complete monotone.

I sputtered out a laugh.

“There is not always blowing, so fellatio is a much more accurate des-”

“How do you make talking about blow jobs unsexy?” I complained.

“It’s a skill,” he deadpanned, then grabbed my ass for emphasis.

I made some kind of noise that I’d rather not repeat, and allowed Cass to lure me in for another extended make out session.

Somehow we ended up on the floor, Cass on his back and me with my cheek resting against his chest while he stroked my hair.

I sighed into his skin, that little voice starting to niggle at me again. “I’m gonna get super drunk,” I decided.

“Um… why?”

“’Cause when I’m all wasted I’m gonna tell you what I want and then we’re gonna do it,” I declared.

“I don’t want that,” Cass replied flatly.

“Yeah, but-”

“I don’t want that,” he repeated firmly. “If you can’t talk about it when you’re sober, then we’re not ready.”

I groaned, pinching his nipple just because it was there and was sure to irritate him.

“Don’t be a brat,” he complained at me, but his eyes had gone all lidded.

He looked really good like that, a little annoyed but kinda turned on, and not for the first time I imagined pushing my way between those gorgeous thighs of his and goin’ in balls deep and I needed to stop right there because there really wasn’t any reason that we couldn’t be doing that. No logical reason, anyway. It was just that if we did it that way, then I’d never…

This was idiotic.

I was Dean Winchester, the most sex positive as-long-as-everyone-is-safe-and-happy-anything-goes person on the planet, and so what if Cass was in a male body and I was in a male body and we were doing the naked horizontal tango together? Everyone was safe and fucking happy, and I just needed to get over my issues.

Easy as that.

- 22 -

I decided to start with Charlie.

She was mixing up some punch before our usual D&D session, so I joined her in the kitchen, leaving the din of nerds behind in the living room.

“Handmaiden, pass me that o.j.,” she commanded me as soon as I’d stepped into the room.

“Of course, my queen,” I said, rolling my eyes as I passed by the counter and picked up the carton of orange juice. I handed it to her with an exaggerated bow.

“Sweet, this punch is gonna be off the hook,” she decided with a definitive nod as she dumped the juice into her concoction. She started stirring it vigorously with the ladle, then grabbed a cup and filled it up, shoving it into my hands.

I took a sip, wrinkling my nose. “It’s sweet alright.”

Charlie poured herself a cup and took a long drink. “Aw, yeah, that’s the good stuff.”

I opened my mouth to speak and then shut it.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing,” I said in what was definitely not a squeak.

“Dean-y,” she said, waving her cup at me. “I know when something’s on your mind.”

“Amazing, you’re like a mind-reader,” I fake marveled at her.

“Do I sense sarcasm?” she asked, squinting at me.

‘Me?’ I mouthed at her as I pointed to myself and batted my eyes innocently.

“Oh, whatever you’re about to say is gonna be a doozy, isn’t it?” she reasoned. “I mean, you’ve already got the defense mechanisms up to an 11.”

I looked away from her and stared at the floor because tile was fascinating. “It’s nothing. I just wanted to… talk about my character.”

“You wanted to talk about Blargh the Destroyer?” Charlie asked, looking for confirmation.

I nodded my head.

“Always down for a little creative time,” she said. “You got something cooking for his backstory?”

“I, uh, not really a backstory, just uh… a new development in his uh personality,” I said, still staring at the tile. It was very square and white.

“Lay it on me.”

“Yeah, um, okay, so you know how Blargh loves the ladies…”

“He and the Queen are always competing for the same women.”

“They do have similar taste.”

“Can’t fault them for that.”

“Hot chicks are hot chicks.”

“Absolutely.”

“And Blargh loves hot chicks,” I said, trying to get things on track. “But lately he uh… you know, he lov- uh he goes for hot dudes, too.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said, taking a breath. Here it was. “He’s b-… he’s b-… he’s b-b-bisexual.”

“Cool,” Charlie said, like I hadn’t just made a complete fool of myself.

“I…”

She reached over and patted my shoulder. “I’ll make sure there’s a few hot bartenders in the next campaign along with the barmaids. Now carry this punch to the living room.”

“Why do I have to-”

“Just do it!” my queen commanded, so I did it, feeling a little better about finally getting the word out even if it hadn’t been my smoothest line.

It was time for the next step.

I needed the right set up, and TV time with Cass seemed ideal. While I was in charge of picking movies, Cass was in charge of picking our binge shows, and he never failed to pick something gay.

We watched Schitt’s Creek, which, okay, was kinda funny sometimes I guess.

We watched Shameless, which, okay was kinda relatable in a doing anything to survive kinda way.

We watched friggin’ Rupaul’s Drag Race, which no one ever needed to know about, but okay, fine, Bob the Drag Queen was hilarious.

We were currently watching Oz, which I wouldn’t have characterized as a gay show if Cass hadn’t picked it, but he did, so somehow we were always discussing the romantic relationship between Beecher and Keller over all the murder and mayhem.

“I’m not gay or anything…” I started.

Cass snorted from behind me as we spooned on the couch.

I barreled forward, “…but if Keller cornered me in a secluded storage room, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Dean, he literally just murdered the last person he cornered in a secluded storage room…”

“Yeah, but he like betrayed him. Chris wouldn’t kill me, I’m too good a lay.”

“You have a lot of confidence for a man who declares himself not to be gay and then proceeds to make incredibly gay statements in the next breath.”

“I’m not gay, I’m b-” I started and fumbled. “B-bisexual,” I concluded with a wince, wishing I could have said it without stuttering.

Cass had been stroking my arm throughout our conversation, but his hand paused for a moment, before resuming the soothing motion. “I’m not giving you a hall pass to have sex with a rapist-murderer.”

“You do know he’s a fictional character, right?” I asked, forcing the sarcasm as hard as possible so I could ignore the way my heart was hammering in my chest.

“I know that, but do you?” he countered.

“I’m just saying...” I trailed off.

“I prefer your crush on Patrick Swayze,” Cass complained.

“I prefer my crush on you,” I said, twisting my neck around so I could waggle my eyebrows at him.

He shook his head at me, but he was smiling.

I gave him a quick smooch before turning back to the TV.

Cass nuzzled his face in next to mine, rubbing our cheeks together like an affectionate cat. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Huh?”

“For coming out to me,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Me, your boyfriend. Who you engage in sexual activity with on a regular basis.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” I grumbled at him.

“Oh, I thought that was what you were into,” he hummed.

“Shut up,” I groaned, pushing at his arm.

“Deaaaan,” he protested, holding on tighter.

I gave in and let him snuggle me to his heart’s content, because it still hadn’t gone how I’d wanted it to, but we were almost there.

Next I invited Sam over for steaks.

We spent a lot less time together in heaven, and a lot of the time when we actually were together we were surrounded by our significant others or family or friends, but today I wanted it to be just the two of us.

“Your yard is looking good,” Sam commented as he took a sip of his Coke.

“Cass does most of it,” I said, eyes lasered on the steaks as I poked and prodded them with my tongs. “He loves planting crap.”

“Poetic,” he commented.

“I planted all the herbs and stuff, though,” I added, nodding my head towards the herb garden.

“My brother, the green thumb,” Sam marveled.

“Hey, Sammy?”

“Mm?” he asked, eyes meeting mine over the grill.

“I’m bisexual,” I stated loudly and clearly.

He made one of his Faces, eyes squinting and mouth grimacing. “I know?”

“Good,” I said, turning my eyes back to the steaks. “How do you want yours done?”

“Medium well.”

I scoffed at that. “That’s not how you eat a steak.”

“You asked.”

“You’ll have it medium rare.”

“Okay then, big brother,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Why even bother asking?”

“To remind us all what dumb ideas you have.”

“Excuse you.”

“You’re excused.”

“Jerk.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“Really? Peewee?”

“He’s a classic for a reason.”

“He jerked off in an adult movie theater.”

“Who hasn’t jerked off in an adult movie theater?!”

“Too much information, Dean.”

“Or just the right amount.”

Sam started laughing, shaking his head. “How are we related?”

“Do you need me to give you The Talk again?”

“Just shut up and cook the damn steaks.”

I stuck my tongue out at him, grinning.

I was pretty sure I was happy.

- 23 -

I was blasting the Yardbirds as I coasted down the highway, drumming my hands on the steering wheel. “For your love! For your love!”

Cass was suddenly next to me, slouching in his seat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said, giving him a quick peck before focusing my eyes back on the road.

“Hello,” he said glumly.

“Was the kiss that bad?”

“What?” he asked, his face scrunching up. “No, of course not.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, deciding to go for the more direct approach if I actually wanted an answer.

“It’s…” he trailed off. “Jack and I had a disagreement.”

“Really?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise. “You’re usually two peas in a friggin’ pod.”

“Yes, well, we can’t agree on everything,” Cass said, sounding uncharacteristically bitter.

“You wanna talk about it?” I offered.

“No,” he said shortly.

I took my right hand off the steering wheel and rested it on his knee.

Cass covered my hand with his, sighing dramatically. “Who is this?” he finally asked.

“Hm?”

“I’m not familiar with this artist.”

“You don’t know the Yardbirds?” I asked incredulously.

“I… do not…” Cass said slowly, tilting his head to the side.

“Dude, this is a serious lapse in your education,” I lamented. “Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Friggin’ Page…”

“I am familiar with all of these artists,” he said, his squint intensifying.

“Of course you are, they’re three of the greatest guitarists of all time, and they all got their start with the Yardbirds, man.”

“What an influential band…” he mused.

“Yeah, I’ll lend you some tapes.”

“Thank you.”

I glanced over at him. “Hey.”

He’d been looking out the window, but he turned to meet my gaze. “Yes?”

“That thing with Jack’s really bothering you, huh?”

A frown tugged at his lips. “He can be very stubborn sometimes. I understand that he can see all things, but that does not mean that he knows all things.”

“Uh… huh…”

He sighed loudly.

“Can’t you guys, ya know, talk it out?” I suggested.

“He won’t listen.”

“Will you?”

“Are you ‘Dr.’ ‘Phil’ing me?”

“Possibly.”

“I am always willing to listen.”

“Okay, then leave it to me, angel,” I said, glancing up towards the ceiling. “Hey, Jack, get your ass down here.”

“Dean, I hardly-”

“Hello.”

We both looked into the backseat where Jack sat, waving.

“Hey, kiddo, good to see you,” I said, turning back to the road.

Cass was silent.

“Yes, it’s been a while,” Jack said, holding up a little box of tapes. “I have finished these.”

“Ready for the next batch?”

“I am,” he affirmed.

“Cool, I’ll get them to you as soon as you and Cass talk out your issues like grownups instead of ignoring each other,” I said cheerfully.

“Dean,” Cass growled, giving me a warning look.

“What, you two haven’t said a damn word to each other since Jack got here,” I pointed out.

“I hadn’t gotten around to it,” he tried to protest.

“I felt awkward addressing Castiel directly because he is upset with me,” Jack offered honestly.

Cass stiffened at that, then slowly turned around to face the back again. “Jack, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me. I know we are having a disagreement, but…” he hesitated, then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I should have spoken with you right away instead of… I was being childish. I truly apologize.”

I slapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. “Atta boy.”

Jack tilted his head to the side, sizing Cass up. “I would like it if we could… find common ground.”

“I would like that as well,” Cass agreed.

“You two ‘fight’ like you’re on an episode of of Downton Abbey,” I muttered. “Okay, so we’re gonna go back to our place, and I’m gonna fix us all some lunch-”

“Will you make your PB&J?” Jack asked hopefully.

“I will make Dean’s Famous PB&J,” I agreed, “and in the meantime you two will figure this shit out so we can have a nice family meal together.”

Neither of them seemed particularly convinced, but when we got back to the house I made a beeline for the kitchen and left them to sort their shit.

Making PB&J didn’t actually take that long, even if it was Dean’s Famous PB&J, so I decided to bake a pie first (classic apple, obviously). I was going all out, flour on my nose and all, when Jack peered into the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” he asked.

“I think I got it covered,” I said, rubbing my nose absently.

“Oh.”

I looked at his kicked puppy face and sighed. He learned that one from his dad. “You wanna learn how to do a lattice?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, get over here,” I said, nodding my head towards the kitchen island where I was working. “I’m cutting the dough in even strips,” I explained, gesturing to the parts I’d already cut. “Think you can finish up?”

He nodded, picking up the knife and starting in.

“You and Cass talked?”

“Yeah, we… we haven’t reached an agreement, but I think we understand each other better now,” he said, his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on what he was doing.

I patted his arm, and he shot me a grin. “So next we’re gonna lay some strips over the pie,” I explained, nodding toward the pie plate.

We were full on weaving the pie crust when Cass joined us.

“You good, angel?” I asked, leaving the pie to Jack so I could pull Cass into a hug and sneak in a grope of his ass.

“Dean, not in front of-” Cass started, glancing towards Jack.

“You know, I’m not a child anymore,” Jack pointed out, not looking up from his work.

“I know,” Cass said, and it sounded like this was all part of their earlier discussion. “So if I…” he trailed off, then took me by surprise by grabbing me back by the ass.

I did not shriek.

“Completely fine,” Jack assured him, eyes flicking to my panic-stricken ones. “I have finished the weaving, Dean.”

“Uh-huh, great job there, buddy,” I said, trying to ignore the fact that Cass was still groping me in front of our son. “So we gotta uh, you know, cut and crimp…”

Jack looked up at me expectantly.

I tried to nudge Cass away, but somehow he ended up molded to my back, arms wrapped securely around my waist while I showed Jack how to cut the extra dough off with the kitchen scissors.

“You’re such a good dad,” Cass told me later when we were cleaning up the kitchen.

I snorted at that. “I’m no such thing.” I’d long since given up on denying paternity to the kid, but taking credit for being a good father after all the shit I put him through when I was alive? All the baked pies and afternoons fixing cars together were never gonna make up for those mistakes.

“You are,” he insisted. “You get through to that human part of Jack that I can’t reach sometimes.”

“I think he’s humoring me when he pretends to be interested in what I have to teach him, seeing as he’s all omnipotent and crap,” I pointed out.

“He enjoys spending time with you.”

“’Cause I’m the fun dad,” I said with a wink.

“You are,” Cass agreed, smiling all bright and sunny. “After you finally learned to stop being such a hardass.”

“Is that the technical term, ‘hardass’?” I asked.

“Mm,” he agreed, suddenly delivering a sharp spank to my ass.

“You are out of control,” I complained, trying to not blush and knowing that I was failing miserably.

“Am I?” Cass asked, crowding me against the kitchen counter.

I chewed on my bottom lip, flustered. “Yeah,” I finally managed to get out, hand latching onto his tie like a safety blanket.

He leaned in close like he was going to kiss me, but then diverted his lips to my ear. “Sometimes it can feel good to let go of control.”

“Jesus,” I whimpered, hand gripping onto him more tightly.

“Castiel,” he corrected me, and I simultaneously wanted to laugh and cum in my pants.

“How do you go from dorky dad to bossy dom, like 0 to 60?” I complained, but I sounded kinda breathless.

“Am I bossy?” he asked as he pulled back, looking perplexed. Then his head made a hard tilt to the right. “Am I a… ‘dom’?”

“You’re not gonna deny the dorky dad part?”

“No, I am self-aware enough to acknowledge the validity of that assessment.”

“Nerd,” I said, shaking my head.

“Yes,” he agreed, suddenly hefting me up onto the counter. “But also ‘the boss’.”

“Nuh-uh, no way, Angela,” I pretended to protest, even as my traitorous legs were wrapping around his waist. The voice in the back of my head that usually yelled and screamed about stuff like that was strangely quiet, so I let my legs stay where they were, enjoying the closeness.

“Yes way,” he informed me, finally, finally leaning in to touch his lips to mine, the softest of brushes.

“You’re bein’ a tease, Cass,” I complained when he pulled away.

“Well, I have to get back to work.”

“You gotta be shittin’ me.”

“I shit you not,” he said, shaking his head solemnly. “After Jack and I spoke, while we did not reach an agreement, I came to understand what I need to do next.”

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid, right?” I asked, squinting at him.

“Never,” he said, then took in my raised eyebrow and added, “again.”

“That’s my angel,” I said with a grin. I tugged on his tie, and he took the hint, cupping my face in his hands and kissing me like I was precious.

“I’ll be home soon,” he assured me, pulling away slowly like he wasn’t quite ready to go.

“Don’t take too long,” I said, letting the material of his tie slide out from between my fingers. “You know bossin’ me around gets me all hot and bothered.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“Did you just ‘I know’ me?” I asked, squinting at him.

“I was simply confirming your insinuation,” he said. “And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be wearing the red ones when I come back.”

I didn’t need to ask ‘what red ones?’, and that just increased the color creeping to my cheeks.

“Dean? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“Good,” he said, and then he was gone.

I was embarrassed, but I found myself hopping down from the counter, eager to do what I was told.

Because in the end, it was okay to want what I wanted.

- 24 -

After a round of Sorry almost erupted into violence, Sam decided that the perfect solution to save game night was to play Twister.

“Dude, who wants to play Twister with their brother?” I protested.

“So you admit you’re gonna lose?” he asked with a smirk.

“Uh, yeah right, ganglezilla,” I scoffed. “The issue here is that Twister is not a game of skill, it’s a game of horny preteens tryin’ to rub up against their crush.”

“That is not in the rules,” Cass said, not looking up from the rule sheet that he was scrutinizing.

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t put it in the rules, it’s just something everyone knows.”

“It’s true,” Eileen said, nodding her agreement.

“Uh, no, it’s not,” Sam said. “I played with my friends in junior high all the time.”

Eileen and I exchanged a Look.

“Listen, Sammy, I dunno how to break this to you-” I started to say.

“So help me god if you tell me my friends were all trying to cop a feel-”

“Your friends were trying to cop a feel,” Eileen said confidently.

“Just because you two are perverts-”

“Just because you’re a prude-” I interrupted him.

“I’d like to play,” Cass decided, setting the rule sheet down.

“Sweetheart, you can cop a feel of me in the privacy of our bedroom anytime you’d like,” I pointed out.

“I would rather put my right hand on red and test my dexterity as the game progresses.”

“Thank you,” Sam said, nodding like he’d been exonerated.

“Then you two horndogs play, and me and Eileen’ll do the spinner,” I said.

“No, we all have to play,” he insisted.

“If we all play, who’s gonna do the spinner?” I pointed out.

“I can use my grace,” Cass offered.

I raised an eyebrow at him. He always got mad at me for asking him to use his grace for ‘frivolous things’.

“I want to play this game, Dean,” he stated firmly, with a little hint of that bossy bedroom voice of his that somehow always got me to do what he wanted.

I stopped protesting.

Eileen gave me a betrayed look, but then Cass started eyeing her up and she started eyeing him back, and suddenly Twister was yet another battleground for them in their very bizarre rivalry.

“This is much more fun when played with other people,” Cass declared as we all struggled to get our left feet on green when our right feet were on red.

“I’m not sure we have the same idea of fun,” I grunted.

“Right hand green!” he chirped.

“Oh my god, are you really spinning that thing properly or are you just stopping on whatever’s the most friggin’ difficult to do?!” I demanded.

“The latter,” he said cheerfully.

I gaped at my devious boyfriend.

“I don’t see the problem,” Eileen said breezily, twisting her arm under herself and settling on red.

“What are you, woman, a freaking octopus?!” I cried, still struggling to get into position. “I mean, congrats, Sammy, but do we really need to be able to, ya know, literally tie ourselves in knots?”

“Dean, you could do to gain a little more flexibility,” Cass said. “Left foot blue.”

“Hey, darlin’, I think I bend in all the right places,” I protested as I moved my foot.

“Dude, you can’t even do downward dog,” Sam said with a snort.

“Right hand red.”

“Is that really something you take pride in, Samantha?”

“Dean,” came a chorus of groans.

“Oh my god, I get it already,” I complained. “Sorry, Sammy, do you really take pride in being able to do something called ‘downward dog’?”

“If you got it, you wouldn’t keep doing it,” Cass pointed out. “Right foot blue.”

I sighed with relief as we finally shifted into a comfortable position. I didn’t get the same aches and pains I did when I was alive, but okay, yeah, I wasn’t the most flexible guy in certain areas, like performing splits across Twister boards.

“Left foot green.”

“Sonovabitch.”

“Do you surrender?” Eileen asked, returning to a position where she could see my face and resume taunting me.

“I can do it,” I growled.

“You better not lose this for us,” Cass complained.

“You’re the one who wanted to be on my team!”

“Because I thought Sam’s excessively long limbs would be a hindrance to his flexibility and movement,” he said with a sigh. “He’s usually so clumsy…”

“I’m not…” Sam tried to protest but then just gave up because facts were facts.

“Left hand red,” Cass said, and suddenly his arm was sliding under mine as he occupied the red circle between my two hands, the brush of his arm against mine almost shy.

“What are you doing?” I asked, shaking my head but grinning.

“I thought that rubbing against my crush would enhance the gameplay.”

I snorted at that, leaning in and giving him a quick kiss. “Whaddya think?” I asked, smirking at him.

“It does add… ‘excitement’ to the game,” he concluded. “Though you were correct in your assertion that it would probably be more practical to do this in the privacy of our bedroom.” He paused. “Naked,” he decided.

I threw my head back and laughed, while Sam sputtered incoherently, his delicate sensibilities thoroughly offended.

“Right hand yellow,” Cass said, completely unperturbed.

There was a crash behind me, and Sam was down for the count.

“Unbelievable,” Eileen groaned.

“Hey, you win some, you lose some,” Cass said with a shrug, rising to his feet.

“This ain’t over,” she said. “We fight this out fair and square, no dead weight.”

“All right,” Cass agreed. “Dean, take the spinner.”

“I am not drunk enough for this,” I said, stretching my abused spine.

“Yeah, ’cause you said you were good with cola,” Sam said, sitting down on the couch and picking up the spinner. “Left foot green.”

Cass and Eileen both stamped their feet down on green.

“Ya know, they used to put cocaine in this,” I said, raising my can of Coke to Sam in a mock cheers and taking a long drink.

“Yeah, okay, but they don’t anymore?” he said, passing the spinner to me.

“Right hand blue,” I announced.

“So you doin’ the steps, gonna make amends next?”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” I grumbled at him.

“Ha,” came the peanut gallery’s reply from the Twister board.

“Left hand blue,” Sam said. “No, really, man, so you’re…”

“I’m just takin’ a temporary break from alcohol,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Lookin’ at shit with clear eyes.”

“Less brotherly bonding, more spinning,” Eileen commanded.

I flicked the spinner around and grinned. “Red right hand,” I sang, doing my best Nick Cave impression.

Sam gave me a weird look.

“We’re watching Peaky Blinders,” I explained.

“Dean wants to have intercourse with Cillian Murphy,” Cass offered.

“I do not,” I protested, spinning the spinner harder than it really needed to be spun.

“It’s okay, Dean,” he said. “He’s your type.”

“Dark hair, dreamy blue eyes?” Eileen offered, shooting me a smirk from her twisted up position on the floor.

“I don’t have a type,” I protested.

“Not an alcoholic, don’t have a type, got it,” Sam said.

“Left foot yellow,” I growled.

“Dean doesn’t like discussing his ‘man’ crushes’,” Cass explained.

“Left foot green,” Sam said. “Yeah, apparently, ’cause I had to hear in explicit detail all the things he was gonna do to Daisy Duke growing up.”

“Catherine Bach or Jessica Simpson?” Eileen asked.

“I mean, initially Bach, but eventually there was a ménage à trois thing going on,” Sam explained.

“Hell yeah,” I said, nodding with a great feeling of satisfaction.

Cass rolled his eyes at me.

“So you’re proud of that, but you can’t admit that a dude has pretty eyes?” Sam asked, passing me the spinner.

“Okay, Jesus, fine, yeah, Cillian Murphy is… ya know, fuckable,” I admitted. And it felt… fine? “Left foot yellow.”

“It is already on yellow,” Cass said with a frown

I spun it again. “Right hand blue.”

“Did you see 28 Days Later?” Eileen asked as she slid her hand onto the space Cass was going for, trying to edge him off the board. “I’d go through an apocalypse with Jim.”

“Yeah, I was kinda closeted when I saw it, but it might be worth a rewatch,” I mused.

“So you can swoon as you gaze deep into Cillian’s eyes?” Sam teased me.

I felt something switch on inside me. “Aw, yeah, Sammy, can you imagine those fucking eyes looking up at you while those lips wrap around your dick?”

He made a gagging face.

It wasn’t because I was talking about gay stuff. It was because Sam was a prude and hated it when I talked about sex at all.

My grin took over my entire face as I mimed giving a blowjob.

“Dude,” Sam complained.

“Mm, those gorgeous DSL,” I said, feeling myself go far away picturing them.

“Digital Subscriber Line? Internet… porn?” Sam asked, looking confused.

I snorted. “This guy thinks DSL is internet porn.”

“Huh?” he said, looking completely confused.

‘Dick sucking lips,’ Eileen mouthed at him.

I cracked up at Sam’s horrified face.

“And they are,” she said, nodding her agreement, “but also CSL.”

“What… does the ‘C’ stand… for…?” Sam sputtered out hesitantly, like he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“I’m sorry, but why are you with this man?” I asked, shaking my head at Eileen. “He can’t even find the clitoris.”

Eileen laughed at that, then mouthed at me, ‘freak in the sheets.’

“Nice,” I said, then gave Sam an approving pat on the back.

“Huh?” he said, completely lost in the conversation.

“Just playing the lady in the streets, lil’ bro, amirite?” I declared. I gave him a big thumbs up.

His sheer confusion had me and Eileen howling.

“I would like to finish this game sometime tonight,” Cass commented, sounding exasperated.

“It’s a kid’s game, Cass,” I pointed out.

“And Eileen and I are having a wonderful time playing it.”

“You two look like you’re about to murder each other.”

“Maybe murdering each other is how we have a wonderful time.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, left foot red.”

The game went on for what seemed like most of the night, but I was having a good time passing the spinner between me and Sammy, regaling him with the details of explicit sex dreams I’d had about Patrick Swayze while he tried to cover his virgin ears and pretend it wasn’t happening.

I felt like me.

- 25 -

Cass had his arms around me protectively, cooing nonsense while I tried to sniffle away my tears.

“You’re okay, Dean,” he said gently. “I’ve got you.”

“I know, fuck,” I groaned, sniffing long and loud and hoping that my eyes would stop dripping.

“Just let it out,” he murmured, kissing my temple.

“Already let it out,” I complained. “Want it to stop.”

“Clearly there’s still something wanting to come out,” he pointed out.

“No, I can’t friggin’ cry anymore, man,” I sniffed. Then I sniffed some more. And then I just cried into his chest like some big baby.

“It’s okay,” Cass hummed into my hair. “I love you.”

It took a while for the sobs to stop.

He held me and stroked my hair until I was quiet, then tilted my chin up to look me in the eye. “Was the sex that bad?” he asked drily.

I couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled out of me. “No, sweetheart, of course not. It was…” I started, but just thinking about it made my throat start to tighten up again.

“It was what you wanted?” he asked uncertainly.

I nodded and swallowed.

“It was what you needed?”

My nod increased in intensity.

“Okay,” he said, pressing his nose into my hair, his lips into my skin. Barely above a whisper, he added, “I needed it, too.” His grip tightened, and I felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

I kissed the skin under my lips. ‘Love you,’ I mouthed into the warmth of his chest. ‘Love you, love you, love you.’

This was all embarrassingly sappy, but I didn’t see how else anything that started with ‘Cass, I want you inside of me’ could have ended up.

Fuck, my life was a Harlequin Romance.

Even as I had the thought, though, I realized it didn’t actually bother me. Who the fuck cared if my boyfriend tenderly made love to me while I cried? I was exhausted, but I felt awesome.

I felt…

“I feel really close to you right now,” Cass said softly, “as if there were no longer any walls between us.”

“I feel the same,” I whispered back. Then I realized I didn’t have to whisper anymore. “I feel free,” I stated loudly.

Cass nudged at me insistently until our noses could touch, rubbing them together in an Eskimo kiss.

“They’re called Inuits,” he informed me.

“Huh?”

“The inhabitants of the arctic, they are called Inuits.”

“Are you reading my goddamn mind again?”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “No walls.”

“S’fine,” I decided, continuing to… Inuit kiss him. “Just for now.”

“I will st-” Cass started, but I decided to kiss him French-style next.

When we pulled apart, he was smiling so damn much I thought his face might break in half. “You happy, angel?”

“Very, very happy,” he said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Good,” I said. I kissed his nose. “You deserve to be happy. I wanna make you happy.”

“You do,” he assured me, his eyes all crinkly.

“I don’t always,” I admitted, thumbing over the scruff on his chin, “but I’m gonna do better.”

Cass mirrored my touch, stroking along my jaw and gazing into my eyes with that huge smile still on his face.

“Enough sap,” I groaned, but I had to kiss him one more time. “Come on, we are disgusting and we need a shower.”

He sighed, still holding me to his chest.

“C’mon, man, I don’t wanna be covered in jizz anymore,” I protested, though I really could have just laid there all day, jizz and all.

“Squeeze me, babe,” he crooned at me, hand wandering lower to give my ass a grab, “’till the juice runs down my leg.”

“I can’t even be mad at you if you’re gonna sing Zepp,” I said, trying not to laugh while simultaneously trying not to squirm when his fingers started tracing along my rim, catching the cum dripping out.

“Sometimes I like it when you’re mad at me,” he admitted.

I couldn’t keep the laugh in.

“I was going to sing Sexual Healing next,” he added, and proceeded to do so.

I was fully cracking up when Cass finally let me get up and drag him off to the shower.

“Dean?” he asked me thoughtfully as the water ran over his head.

“Mm-hm?” I hummed, working shampoo into his hair.

“Does this mean that you will be willing to penetrate me next?”

I snorted, carefully tipping his head back to keep the shampoo from going into his eyes as I rinsed it out. “Maybe.”

“Why only ‘maybe’?” he complained, sounding like a petulant child.

“’Cause I might need you to do me again first,” I explained, waggling my eyebrows at him.

“Oh,” he said, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Yes, okay, either proposition is acceptable.”

“That’s what I aim for our sex life to be,” I commented, “‘acceptable’.”

“I apologize, did I not properly convey my enthusiasm for both propositions through encomium?”

“Honey, I don’t even know what that word means,” I informed him, giving him a kiss and spinning us around so I could be under the spray.

Cass gave me a squint. “In case I was not clear, I wish to partake in sexual intercourse with you at every possible opportunity from now until eternity.”

“You sure know how to make a boy blush.”

He did his best to waggle his eyebrows at me.

I cracked up.

“Why do you always laugh at me when I’m being sexy?” he complained.

I was crying again, but I didn’t care. “Jesus.”

“That is not my name.”

“What should I call you then?” I asked, resting my arms around his neck while he rinsed shampoo from my hair.

“Daddy.”

I threw my head back in a laugh, water getting into my eyes and up my nose. “Oh, god.”

“Again, not my name.”

“Cass, you gotta stop watching whatever porn it is you’re watching.”

“You told me it would enhance our sex life.”

“Yeah, okay, porn is awesome,” I agreed. “But maybe you should stick to more, ya know, vanilla stuff.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at me like I was the weird one.

“Forget it,” I said, shaking my head. “Watch whatever you want.”

“Thank you, I will.”

That sounded ominous to me. Also vaguely intriguing.

We finished washing up and got out of the shower all squeaky clean.

Cass started humming absently to himself as he patted down his body.

“Castiel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re not funny.”

He batted those big eyes of his at me and dared to say, “I am hilarious, Dean, though not always intentionally.”

I chewed on my lip, not wanting to laugh. “Madonna, really?”

“It seemed appropriate,” he said with a shrug, moving out of the bathroom. “For your deflowering.”

I tried to hold my laugh in and failed.

“Like a virgin, hey! Touched for the very first time!”

I followed his out of tune singing into the bedroom. “So what song am I gonna deflower you to?”

“Hm…” he trailed off, looking thoughtful as he stood in the middle of the room with nothing on “Maybe Only the Good Die Young?”

“You Catholic school girls start much too late,” I sang with a laugh, showing him how proper eyebrow waggling was done.

Cass approached me with the softest expression on his face, which really didn’t match the conversation. “You’re laughing so much,” he said reverently. He reached up a hand to touch my cheek. “Am I in fact hilarious or… are you just happy?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column b, sweetheart.”

“They say there’s a heaven for those who will wait,” he rumble-sang at me.

I had a sudden concerning thought. “Oh, shit, have I become a Stepford Bitch?” “Never,” Cass said, letting out an amused huff. “You always break the mould, Dean.”

“Hell yeah I do,” I agreed. The matter was settled in my mind. I was happy because I was happy, and that was an awesome thing to be.

- 26 -

Cass held the casserole in both hands, while Jack held the flowers. I rang the doorbell.

We waited.

“So are you ready to be 50 shades freed?” Cass asked conversationally.

I turned to him with a stern look. “What did I tell you about those BDSM references?”

“That I should compile a list of what I was interested in trying and then-”

“The other thing, Cass, the other friggin’ thing.”

“Oh, uh,” he paused, clearing his throat. “The ‘don’t talk about erotica for ladies in front of…’” he paused again, then continued with an apologetic look towards Jack, “‘the’ ‘kid’ thing.”

“Yes, Cass,” I said, exasperated. “That thing.”

“I’ve seen all the movies,” Jack said with a shrug. “I found them… confusing.”

“The kid is watching confusing erotica for ladies when he could be watching actual porn,” I said, and that’s when my mom opened the door, covered in spaghetti sauce.

She squinted at me.

“This is a casserole,” Cass explained, thrusting it towards her.

“Thanks, Castiel, this is going to save the disaster in the kitchen,” she said, relieved.

“Hi, Mom,” I greeted her, giving her a kiss on the cheek as I moved into the house.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greeted me, before turning her attention to her inexplicable favorite, seeing as how he murdered her and all. “Jack! You’re here!”

“Hello,” he said, accepting her hug.

“I thought you were… where was it, the nebula…?”

“Yes, I’ve been passing my days quietly contemplating in the Crab Nebula,” Jack explained. “These flowers are for you.”

“Thank you, how thoughtful.”

“Where’s Dad?” I called over my shoulder.

“Guess,” Mom replied.

“Garage?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, don’t wait for us to get started.”

I moved towards the living room where the door to the garage was.

“He’s going to do it now?” I could hear Mom whispering.

“Yes, he’s quite determined,” Cass said, and that was all I wanted to hear of that as I opened the garage door and stepped inside.

“Dad?”

He slid out from under the Camaro, covered in grease. “Hey, son. That time already?”

“Nah, we got here a little early.”

“Saving us all from Mary’s cooking?”

“Yeah, I got us covered,” I said, shifting from one leg to the other.

“I’ve just got to-” Dad started, but I cut him off.

“Can we talk?”

He sat up, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. “Alright.”

I pulled over a toolbox to him and sat down on it. “Dad, I’m bisexual.”

He scoffed at that. “I know, Dean.”

“No, I don’t think that you do,” I said, shaking my head. I clasped my hands together to hide their shaking. “Cass isn’t a fluke. I’ve probably always been attracted to men and women.”

“Dean, I don’t see why that matters.”

I took in a breath and let it out slowly. “It matters to me, and I need you to listen to me right now.”

“I am listening,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“I need you to just listen,” I tried to explain, grasping for words. “Just listen, okay?”

“I am,” he repeated. His tone was getting colder.

“I need you not to talk,” I blurted out, then took in another breath and let it out slowly.

“Dean-”

“Don’t talk,” I repeated, because it was stupid to be a grown man afraid of getting a smack from his father. “Don’t talk and just listen.”

His look darkened.

“Please,” I said, because Cass said asking politely was better than being ordered around. We could agree to disagree, but in this instance he was probably right.

Dad gestured for me to continue, not looking happy but not saying anything.

So I looked him in the eye, and I said, “I never became the man I was supposed to be because of you.”

“What is-”

“Just listen.”

“Now look here, son-”

“Just listen, John,” I said flatly, finding a strange sense of calm in his anger.

He opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m bi,” I repeated, “but no son of yours could ever be out.”

“That’s not fair-”

“Just listen to me, dammit,” I growled, not looking away from his steely gaze. “You got to talk, talk, talk for all those years, and now it’s my turn, okay? It’s my turn to talk, not yours.”

He hefted out a loud sigh. “Fine,” he gave in, because he probably knew that if he didn’t, this conversation would be over and so would any chance we had at a relationship.

“Thank you,” I said in a tone that was probably more hostile than polite, but I was at least attempting to mind my Ps and Qs. The thing was, this wasn’t on me. He could listen or not, but once it was all out there, I’d have done my part.

He gestured for me to continue, like he was still in charge of this.

I stared him.

He waited.

I waited.

He opened his mouth.

I narrowed my eyes.

He didn’t speak.

“I was a kid,” I finally said. “I was a little kid, and you took that away from me. I was… I was sensitive and… kind and… you took that away. You tried to make me into your version of a man, talking about ‘real men’, calling people ‘gay’ like it was something derogatory, treating women like objects… You ingrained all that shit into me until it was the only truth I could believe in, and it was all bullshit, it was all a grieving man in pain, fighting a one-man vendetta against a, against a friggin’… I don’t know, but it was like you wanted to honor Mom while you were tryin’ to… tryin’ to tear every last part of her outta me,” I got out, choking on the last word as tears warmed my eyes.

“Dean,” he said, and this time he wasn’t angry but I didn’t want to hear it.

“It wasn’t fair,” I pushed forward. “It wasn’t fucking fair. I loved her, too, and she was a part of me, but you ripped that part of me away and made me ashamed of it. I would flinch whenever someone told me I looked like Mom, that I was… pretty, because men weren’t ‘pretty’ and that meant I wasn’t a man, and… it was all so fucking stupid. You made me ashamed of who I was, ashamed of… being like Mom, even if I didn’t realize it at the time, because my memories just kept fading and fading and you never wanted to talk about her, just when you were drunk, just those same stories over and over, but you didn’t even tell me, you didn’t tell me that Mom loved bacon and pie and that she rocked harder than you, you didn’t tell me, and I didn’t… I didn’t know that she was… with me, with me every step of the way in these stupid tiny everyday things, because you hoarded all your memories of her and you wouldn’t… and… and…” It was getting harder to talk.

“I didn’t realize-” he tried to say.

“And the thing of it was, you were the one who wasn’t there,” I ground out. “I was the man of the house. I took care of Sammy. I made sure his lunch was packed before he left for school. I made sure he got on the bus. I picked him up after school and helped him with his homework ’til the damn kid got smarter than me. I made sure there was some kind of food on the table for dinner, even if there wasn’t enough for two. I laid in shitty motel beds with him while he cried ’cause there was a clown painting on the wall or he was hungry or he wanted his dad for some friggin’ reason, whatever it was, I was there raising that kid while you were off chasing ghosts and getting drunk.”

“Dean.”

“I ain’t finished, old man.”

He looked like I’d punched him in the face.

My tears were dry now. “I’m not good with words and I don’t like making big speeches, so I’m leaving you with this. You took something away from me. You made me less of a man. And despite that, despite all of that, I was still ten times the man you ever were, and I’m becoming a better man every day. I’m becoming the person I was supposed to be. The person I would have been if you hadn’t raised me.”

The garage was completely silent.

I stood up. “So if you want to come to dinner, come to dinner. But know that me and Sammy, and even Mom, aren’t gonna put of with any of your macho shit anymore. If you want to fix your relationship with me, then try shutting up and listening sometimes, and then maybe I might actually be able to forgive you and move on.” I left the garage.

The dining room was empty, but I could hear voices in the kitchen.

My eyes sought out Cass’s from where he was putting lettuce in a bowl at the kitchen island.

“Dean, Sam and Eileen have just arrived,” he informed me, smiling warmly.

“Hey,” Sam greeted me, bumping his shoulder into mine. “Mom said that you were gonna finally give Dad The Talk.”

I nodded.

“You did it?” he asked, sounding surprised.

I nodded again, moving across the kitchen to anchor myself with Cass. I threw my arms around him, tucking my head under his chin.

His hands were wet from the lettuce, but he held me close anyway, stroking the hairs at the back of my neck soothingly. “How do you feel?” he whispered into my hair.

I closed my eyes, breathing him in. “Free.”

“Good,” he said, kissing the top of my head before going back to preparing the salad.

We had already started eating when Dad came in from the garage.

He grunted out a greeting before taking his seat.

I met his gaze with my hand firmly placed on Cass’s knee. “You want some casserole, Dad?” I asked, holding up the pan towards him.

“Yes, please,” he replied, taking the dish from me.

It was a start.

- Hidden Bonus Track -

The tinkling ukulele of Elvis’s Blue Hawaii filled the air, competing with the sounds of the waves washing up on the shore.

“This is the life,” I declared, taking a long drink from whatever fruity concoction was in this giant glass I was drinking from.

“I would like it better if it wasn’t for all the… sand,” Cass said, like it was a disdainful word.

“It’s part of the experience, man,” I protested.

“Hey, are you two just gonna sit here the whole time?” Sam asked as he approached our beach chairs, toweling himself off from his swim.

“If we are very lucky,” I said, stirring my drink with the little umbrella. “Perfect view of the stage.”

“So you mean perfect view of attractive women dancing in skimpy clothing,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes.

“Uh, they are dancing professionals, Samuel,” I said, clucking my tongue at him. “Why are you objectifying them like that?”

He started sputtering.

“I think you broke Sam,” Cass pointed out helpfully.

“Ha,” I said. “Man, that dancer on the left is gorgeous.”

“Her breasts are very full,” Cass agreed.

“Heh heh, hell yeah,” I said, holding up my hand for a high five.

Cass slapped my hand with his.

Sam looked like he was going to have a conniption. “I thought you were supposed to be becoming a better man, less of a… you.”

“I’m a work in progress, Sammy, what can I say?”

Sam groaned, flopping down into the chair next to mine.

I looked to Sam on my left and Cass to my right, all of us with our toes in the sand wearing matching Hawaiian shirts while we sipped our drinks and watched the waves crash onto the beach, accompanied by the lovely dancing of the hula girls. “We made it, boys.”

“Cheers to that,” Sam said, holding up his glass.

We all clinked our glasses together and watched the sky explode into colors as the sun set over Hawaii.

“Dream come true in Blue Hawaii,” Cass crooned.

Sam covered his ears, I rolled my eyes with a laugh, and all was right with the world.

#isola cass & dean's infinite playlist #fanfiction #this is a casserole #castiel x dean

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