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#some pumpkin brothers
scrimblyscrorblo · 1 month
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So during some exams of mine I drew characters for a little Halloween Town on my hand, I think I called it Hallow’s Eve or something.
On of these characters was Mourgan, a play on Frankenstein, she’d be this world’s like fashion icon. THE town celebrity and I revised her design
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I had a lot of fun with her and giving her a silly lil’ backstory
Fashion icon, she is only partially rotting inside and out, competitive and ruthless in her field. In her private life, however, she’s a lil’ insecure and struggles forming deep interpersonal friendships. She has one close friend and colleague.
She is also Aromantic cuz I’m projecting
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Some other sketches, I made a whole page for her cuz I like drawing her
I don’t think she’d be too deep of a character lol like someone I can try different styles and outfits with but she has to have lore
I simply cannot not give her lore
Constructive feedback is very much welcome!
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archerlullaby · 10 months
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For writing, how bout the moment the chain meets Twilight’s childhood friend Ilia. Like how’d they respond to how they are together (friend or relationship it’s up to you) how Twilight is around ilia…..enjoy
ANON THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA! Ilia is such a girlboss and I’m surprised that there aren’t more works out there that have her in it. AND TWI??? Even though he’s a big scary fella on the outside I’m sure he’s the biggest cinnamon roll on the inside. IM SURE HE GETS SO FLUSTERED—
As a side note, I had to keep myself from making Twilight say “Yer darn tootin”, and I can’t tell if I’m pleased or disappointed in myself. Anyways, here’s the food:
Home to You
Twilight groans as he picks his face up from the dirt. He was absolutely certain that the Goddess had it out for him, as his experiences of going through a portal often leave him with a mouthful of mud and grass. To add insult to injury, Time thinks it’s hilarious, and often gives little quips about it whenever can. In fact, it’s Time who hoists him up by his baldric, grinning like a child.
“Didn’t know you went vegan, Rancher!” He says, voice barely hiding a laugh. Twilight growls, spits out the leaves in his mouth, and slaps Time’s hand off his shoulder. Standing, he adjusts his wolf pelt with as much dignity as he could muster. His irritation is short-lived, however, when the familiar scent of his Hyrule makes itself apparent. His heart speeds up, excitement fluttering in his stomach as a wide grin grows on his face. It’s been months since he’s been home. Months! It’s been longer still since he’s been in Ordon Village, as most of the Chain’s adventures lead them primarily to Hyrule Castle.
Twilight turns towards Hyrule, who currently has his hands on his knees and looks like he is about to hurl into the bushes.
“Chin up, Roolie!” He grins, “You can’t be feeling sick when you’re in Ordon! You still have yet to try the famous pumpkin soup!” Hyrule groans, doing his best to settle his stomach. “It’s made with the heartiest pumpkins,” —Hyrule lurches— “The creamiest goat cheese,”—Hyrule turns greener— “And to top it off, the nutrient-filled head of a Rockfish! Eyes and all!” Hyrule finally slaps a hand to his mouth.
“Please stop, I’m begging you,” he groans weakly. Twilight relents and wraps an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.
“Sorry, I’m just happy to be home!”
Wild picks his way over to his mentor, eyes bright and curious.
“So, where do we go from here? Your village, I’m guessing?” He asks, pulling a twig from his hair and looking at it thoughtfully.
“That’s right, Cub,” Twilight replies, snatching the twig away before Wild can put it in his mouth.
“Then let’s get going! It’s about time I sleep in an actual bed without you know who drooling on me,” Legend butts in and give a pointed stare at Sky, who merely shrugs and smiles. “And,” Legend continues, “I would like at least one night of my life not having to worry about getting mauled by one of Wild’s stupid bears! My hat still hasn’t recovered.” He looks forlornly at his cap, which has six very conspicuous-looking holes in it. Twilight claps him on the shoulder.
“Not to worry, Leg. We’ve got the best bear-free accommodations in the region, and it’s only a half day journey. We’ll make it by nightfall if we start now!” Twilight starts walking through the trees as the others eagerly fall in behind him, spurred on by the promise of beds to sleep on and a warm evening meal.
It takes the group less than half a day’s journey, Twilight’s excitement quickening their pace. The sun, although low in the sky, has yet to touch the horizon as the enter through the village gates. Twilight pauses and takes a big breath in, the familiar scent of sun warmed gardens and grazing animals chasing away any remnants of homesickness. His eyes are drawn towards two small figures rushing towards him
“Liiiiiiiiinnnkkk!” Their voices bounce with each step as the two boys run down the dirt path.
“Malo! Talo!” He laughs, spreading his arms as the boys all but tackle him. When they finally let go, they bounce around him, pulling at his trousers and hands. “How you both have grown!”
The others watch on in mild amusement as their resident tough-guy is harassed by children. The brothers’ loud voices alert the other children in the village, and it’s not long before Twilight has a kid perched on his shoulders, another hooked to his hip, and two others wrapped around each of his legs, weighing down his steps. It’s like this that he makes his way towards his house, running in to other residents of the town along the way. Pergie and Jaggle both wave from their doorstep, and call in Malo and Talo for dinner. The two leave reluctantly, but not before forcing Twilight to promise to show them more bow skills. Rusl greets him with a firm handshake and a pat on the back and Uli pulls him into a crushing hug, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“We know you’re tired dear. We’ve kept your home clean and tidy while you were away, but if you need anything at all, you know where to find us!” Uli winks. She turns to the remaining kids clinging onto Twilight. “And the rest of you, shoo! Link and his friends need rest. You can see him tomorrow!” Twilight nods his thanks, and gestures to the others to follow, trudging the rest of the way to his home.
Opening the door, he smile and beckons everyone in. Wind and Warriors make a beeline for the pile of pillows in the corner, shoving each other out of the way, as Sky gently rests the Master Sword against a cabinet and promptly collapses on the rug.
“Make yourselves comfortable. Wild, can you whip up something—”
“Already on it,” Wild says as he heads back outside.
“Thanks. And please, my home is your home, so don’t feel like—”
“Link?” A soft voice floats down from the loft. A sudden quiet descends upon the group, seven pairs of eyes staring up at the figure of a young woman with gentle eyes and short, lopsided hair. Twilight, the only one not immediately facing the loft, slowly turns around, eyes wide and breath short. When he sees her, his brain promptly short-circuits.
“Ah…I…uh,” he struggles. Finally, he just lifts his hands and simply signs hi. She laughs (like bells, he thinks) and slides down the ladder before approaching him and putting her hands on her hips.
“Hi, farmboy,” she smiles, and Twilight can’t do anything but sheepishly rub the back of his neck. This was his downfall, as this gesture was another attribute that every Link shared, and by Hylia they know what it means.
“You have a girlfriend?” Warriors all but yells.
“Uh—” Twilight is cut off by Time, who comes up behind him and rests his hands on Twilights shoulders.
“Hi. I’m Time. Welcome to the family. I’m happy to see my son is not a lost cause.” Twilight is mortified and buried his face in his hands as Ilia merely laughs and raises an eyebrow. Legend leans on the wall next to her.
“I’m not going to say I’m surprised. I’m not a surprised type of guy. But how in Hylia’s name did you get past the wet dog smell?”
“Wet dog? I think it smells more like goats,” Four chimes in. Wind nods, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face.
“Not to mention he eats like a wild animal!” The Sailor chortles.
“And snores like one too,” Hyrule mumbles.
“ENOUGH!” Twilight wails and shoos everyone back with his hands. His face and neck were red, redder than anyone in the group had ever seen, and the group took far too much delight in seeing their usually broody brother squirm in embarrassment. Twilight turns back to Ilia, unable to meet her eyes.
“This, um, this is the group I’ve been traveling with. You haven’t met them yet ‘cause the last time we were here you and your Pa were in the next village over,” he explains.
“I see,” she replies, holding in a laugh. Twilight all but sighs and goes to turn away to wallow in his humiliation, but before he can, Ilia grabs his shoulders. “Come back here, you!” Her laugh bubbles out of her lips and she pulls him into a bear hug. He melts into it, almost draping himself over her smaller frame. A collective awww from the group and a whistle from Wars makes Ilia stand on her tiptoes and peek over Twilight’s shoulder.
“Now hush!” She says sternly. Everyone’s mouths immediately snap shut. “This poor boy has had enough embarrassment for one evenin.” Twilight nods into her shoulder.
The others finally began to go about their own business, stealing amused glances at the couple. It was Sky who timidly approaches the two when Twilight finally broke the hug.
“Hi, I’m Sky. You seem like a very nice person!” Sky’s smile was nothing if not genuine. Ilia returns it
“Ilia. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I notice you didn’t chime in on embarrassing my farmboy here,” she pats Twilight’s shoulder. Sky laughs.
“I get the same treatment when we visit my home, trust me when I tell you. I figured I’d let him catch a break this time,” he replies, throwing a wink towards Twi. He nods his thanks, but not before he looses a large yawn, one which Sky can’t help but return. The Skyloftian stretches and heads towards the lounge.
“You all must be exhausted!” She turns back towards Twilight, “I’ve been the one keeping your home ready for you. Why don’t you go settle down and I’ll make you all some warm milk?”
“Could you, maybe, stay with me for a little while longer? Then you can warm the milk?”
She smiles softly.
“How can I refuse those puppy-dog eyes? Fine. Come on, then.” She grabs his hand and pulls him towards the lounge where everyone else had made themselves comfortable. He makes his way to a vacant space and gently pushes an already sleepy Sky to lean the other way. Settling in on one of the cushioned seats, Twilight pulls Ilia down next to him and hooks an arm around her to pull her close as she snuggles in to his side. He allows himself a small smile and rests his head on top of hers. It was then he caught Time’s gaze. It was soft and warm, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. It was a look only reserved for moments when he spoke of home and family, or when Wind would best one of the older boys in a spar. A rare look to be certain. Twilights smile grew. He’s proud of me. He closes his eyes and lets himself take in the comfort of his home, the woman at his side, Sky’s soft snores, and even the muted bickering between Wars, Wind, and Legend about something or the other. He feels safe. Warm. Loved. It was the most peaceful he’s felt for so long, and he basks in the feeling. That is, until Wild kicks the door open with a loud BANG that has everyone scrambling.
“Dinners done. Wait, what the hell?” He drops the food. “YOU’VE GOT A WIFE?”
Twilight groans and hides his face in Ilia’s hair. This was going to be a long evening.
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unamusedyams · 6 months
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trick or treaaat (sprinkles asoryuu/mdryuu at you and runs)
WAH--!! A most gracious offer!!! I humbly accept thank you....🥹🫶
May the RNG Gods look upon you kindly... You shall receive.....
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A treat!! 🍭
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b0nkedmehead · 25 days
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HALLOOO some sticker designs i made for my lil brother 🕺🕺✨️✨️
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Various images of things
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. PIBBINS.... cheering clapping hooting hollering glorious applause everytime I see a pigeon in public#2. Birthday card that I drew for someone. .. kittys...#3. 2023's annual haul of tiny white pumpkins.. i get at least one white pumpkin every year around fall when they have pumpkins in stores#because I just love the color and texture ... bright white and smooth and cold and round.. kind of like a volleyball or something#4. A brief adventure into watching big brother (only earlier seasons of course as I hate all reality shows post like 2013 or something when#they became overly focused on social media and overproduced memeable phrases more.. like even though ALL reality shows have always#been extremely fake and annoying and mindless it's like..... newer stuff seems A Different Kind Of Fake or something) since whenever#I'm sick sometimes I find weird mindless things like that to watch (that one time I had bronchitis I watched all of Flavor of Love in my#half awake illness stupor and now everytime I heat up canned minestrone soup (mostly all I ate that week) I think of flavor flav since#thats just a weird brain connection I have now lol) ANYWAY.. I was sick and watched like 2 seasons of this and then thought it was too#uninteresting and obnoxious to continue (more like 1 and a half since I skipped the rest of one once only boring people were left) BUT this#one guy had a very mischevious looking face and he also said a few things (like the above captioned speech) that sounded like dialogue#some fantasy character would say.. so I took a screencap of him and edited him into a mischevious wizard i guess.?? idk I was sick lol#~your little friend has a poisoned tongue~ is just a very unexpectedly serious sounding wording for some random normal#frat dude looking guy to say while casually chatting on a reality tv show in like 2008 or whenever that was filmed lol#5. FLUFFY CLOVERS!! I'd never seen them be furry and soft before?? inchresting..#6. Noodle sitting in bed with the cat figurines looming above him... the council of kittys...#7. McDonald's full breakfast platter + asparagus + strawberries & cream (also of course this is old and I am now boycotting mcdonalds etc)#i try to group the images somewhat consistently like.. winter stuff with winter stuff or summer stuff with summer stuff#but I have so many random pictrues floating around on my computer that I never post that sometimes some are not organized or just#thrown into a set because there's nowhere else for them. Like the pigeon picture is from like 3 years ago for example lol#8 & 9 - I think I've posted these before but I just find them very interesting looking flowers. whenever they happen to be blooming#I'll pick up a few when I'm out on walks or etc. ... poof ball looking things#photo diary
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“Bad Luck...”, “Please, go away...”, “Bow Down!”
(These are old Halloween designs I made for the endless Halloween event. Based on the dorms our Yu’s would be assigned to if not in the Ramshackle.)
Yuuta is a Pirate quartermaster, with the opposite personality of a gloomy pessimist, who doesn’t care for others.
Yuuuhi is a Beautiful Vampire, with the opposite personality of an anti-social scardy cat.
Yume is the Pumpkin King, with the opposite personality of a flirty, rude, outgoing ruler.
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thedogslegart · 1 year
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I wanna know more about ur oc Pumpkin 🎃!!
Okay! I don't know where to start but THANKS FOR THE ASK ♡♡♡ I understand this is very rambly and I do not expect anyone to read this shit‼️
Um okay this is nothing information but im noting it anyway thats shes number 4 out of 5 children (3 older brothers and a younger sister) and was born in Texas. She moved away from home in her mid 20s. She always lived in a trailer park so she continued to just moving about every year or so, mostly less than that tho.
This is how she meets dude! They just happen to be in the same trailer park at the same time and, as an animal lover, Pumpkin pets Champ when she walks passed him. She strikes up a conversation with dude....so kn and so forth ig :)
Now I do wanna note that I put her with P1 and P3 and, like i do with alot of my OCs, have slightly different versions of her for each sinareo. For P1, she's more manipulative and co-dependent because if im doing OC X cannon I'm going all out. Part of dude doing what he did was encourage by a shared delusion between the two of them. Pumpkin would also be controlling and angry if dude tried to leave, she's a bad person to him.
When with P3, she's more mellow and independent, she still likes the Dude (loves him really) but she knows they both like to wander and wouldn't be as upset with a separation. This doesn't its all ouppie and kitties, because she will just shy of torture this man in the bed room. I'd say he's into it, but she wouldn't care if he wasn't. There's still a controlling part of her that wants to own her partner.
Small note also, I get P3s whole cannon is complicated, but as far as he states, he had a wife and the events of P2 happened to him. All this to say I think him and Pumpkin had an affair, Dude didn't think she knew about his wife but of course she did. They're always yelling at each other and she would have found out anyway lol.
Anyway, she's encouraged to move out of town before you know. The nuclear bomb. But she loses her trailer. They go to Catharsis. Then another town and another. They just travel for a few years. She's a cleaner, she picks up odd jobs and Dude does what Dude does. Very boring and nothing story lol.
With the interpersonal, Dude does love her and has a loyalty to Pumpkin like he had to his wife. (And also part of that is because Pumpkin treats him kinda bad in some areas, not TERRIBLE! but she's a little mean) that's love to him. He really hates it tho, it sits funny with him and he's kinda awkward around her at times but slowly, slowly he submits and he's all hers >:)
And I said this b4 but her name is not Pumpkin! Ifs a nickname from the Dude, like a pet name. I do have "real" names in him for both of them, but that's for me >:) lolol
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peachyberryji · 2 years
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toothless ❤️
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I’m gonna start drinking no one let me think about my blorbo
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pirateprincessblog · 6 months
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player 9
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𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
"it's called soccer, dumbass."
"no, it's called football, dumbass."
"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.
"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"
"football is an entirely different sport-"
"oh give me a break-"
"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.
your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.
"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"
the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.
"oh god, my white couch!"
"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.
"it's not like that-"
"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.
"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.
the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.
you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.
he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.
much like this morning.
"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.
"yes, pumpkin?"
"will you watch me play soccer today?"
"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."
"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."
the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.
"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.
"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"
"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.
"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"
"the derby?"
"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"
he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.
you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.
"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."
"oh, the new stepmom?"
"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.
"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"
his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.
"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.
before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.
the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.
"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.
his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...
"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"
"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.
"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.
"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.
"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.
other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.
"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.
he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.
"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."
"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.
"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."
he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.
"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."
"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.
yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.
you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.
"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."
"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."
the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.
he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.
"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.
"yeah, so? want another session?"
"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.
"of course i can."
"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.
"i don't think that's approp-"
"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.
he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.
"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.
"well why don't we try?"
he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.
"come on, now. sit on me."
you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.
you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.
your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.
with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?
"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.
poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.
"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.
"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.
you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.
a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.
"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.
you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.
it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.
"what is the coach doing here?"
"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."
"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.
you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.
"hi, coach."
something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.
"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"
"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"
all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.
"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"
you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!
"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.
"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.
you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.
"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.
you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.
"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.
"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.
his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.
"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.
the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.
"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."
you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.
"so you come here often?"
"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"
you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.
"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.
"right," he hums, nodding his head.
the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.
"interesting."
"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.
you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.
"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"
"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."
you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.
"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."
your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.
"what?" you manage to say.
"show me how you use it." he simply says.
"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.
you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.
"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."
you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.
"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.
"like what?"
"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"
"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."
he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.
"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.
"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.
the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.
the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.
"hey," you call after practice.
your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.
"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."
"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."
you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.
"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."
he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."
"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."
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the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.
the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.
"miss! miss!"
you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.
"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."
"but-"
"thank you so much! i've gotta run."
and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.
you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.
"coach?" you call.
he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.
two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.
"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.
you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.
"aren't you going to congratulate me?"
"congratulations?"
"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."
"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.
"do i now?"
truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.
"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"
"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.
yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.
you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.
"yunho?"
you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.
"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.
you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.
"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.
"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"
"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."
"if you say so."
the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.
"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.
you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.
"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"
you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.
"open up for me," he instructs.
you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.
"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.
the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.
"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.
you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.
"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.
you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.
yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.
he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.
you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.
"so..." you breathe out.
"so..." he repeats.
"when is your next match again?"
feedback greatly appreciated! 💕
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lem-argentum · 2 years
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f/os to sing songs with <3
#lem text#🍂 ruby rings <3#🎼 prelude to love <3#wont be able to fall asleep for another few hours = fictional otherrrs <3#so so so. ​​meg is obviously more musically inclined than doug is BUT listen listen#i have a guitar i’ve never had the motivation to learn. AND if i was with meg she would help me learn it!!#and doug wouldn’t really care about joining but if meg made an offhanded joke about him probably being bad at it#he would take it as a Challenge and would learn alongside me. <3 doug guitar real basically. <3#ehekjfm <333#him n meg learning how to play my favorite songs without me knowing n me being like WHAT!!!!!! <3333#im not actually good at ukulele either but i could play things for them too. <3#otherwise! i like thinking about dueting songs with doug we could sing cabo together <33#‘ashes ashes dust to dust i think i’ve found a place for us’ ‘valley under me can you tell me its all wrong til it gets to me’! <3#mmmn head empty what else can i talk about. <3 errr#my lil brother asked me to design him a character the other day n he really liked it :] <3#he hasnt seen much of my art before he was so amazed ehfkmj <33 hes never asked anything like that im glad he feels comfortable enough to :>#was like YEAH im gonna draw u the coolest pumpkin dude u’ve ever seen. <333#this was a post about my f/os wasn’t it. i uhhh have a new one but i . cant play his source yet theres no easy way to.#LISTEN hez so cute!!!!! he has all the same insecurities as I DO [hes just like me for real image]!!!!#i just errrrr. have to perform some stealth mission maneuvers to do it (stealing of brother’s xbox or something like that)#ill keep u updated. anyway. i’m gonna find some rtvs vods to fall asleep to sorry for all the tags HEHFMHZ ily <333
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libraryofgage · 5 months
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Addams Family B-Side (1)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)
This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!
Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk
This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!
Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance
If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!
And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't
-------
The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.
She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.
Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.
And so begins Steve's life.
------
"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"
Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."
He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"
A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."
His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.
"Pumpkin?" his father asks.
"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"
"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."
She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."
Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.
"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"
A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.
"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."
"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."
Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."
"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."
Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."
"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."
Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"
"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.
------
"You've got everything you'll need?"
Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.
"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).
His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"
Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.
"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.
Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."
"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Apple slices!"
After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.
"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."
Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."
His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.
"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."
Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.
"What if it's a clean knife?"
"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."
Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.
"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.
"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"
Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."
"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."
"And the other kids?"
"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."
Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"
"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"
"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."
"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"
Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"
"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."
"Oh! So, I can build anything?"
"I guess. I haven't taken it."
"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."
As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.
"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."
Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.
Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.
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Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.
Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."
"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.
It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.
"Utterly repulsive."
Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.
"What about your other classes?"
"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"
"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"
"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.
"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.
Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"
Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.
"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."
"Prick!"
Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.
Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"
Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."
"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.
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mediumsizedpidegon · 9 months
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Another avenue I want to explore in an Amity Park is Weird scenario is all the niche sub-cultures going on.
There is absolutely NO WAY there isn't a thriving goth community in Amity Park. They're holding picnics every full moon. They're holding crafting sessions in their friends' basements. They're adopting ghost animals left and right: eight-legged dogs and blob-cats, skeletal fish and neon bearded dragons.
There's a young man called Raphael who performs live music every week at a dance club with his band: he's got a myriad of shiny piercings, and a phone camera roll full of his rabbits, Morningstar and Salem. Perhaps those ghosts are bad business like the Fentons say, but the club's never felt more alive.
The scene and emo kids are multiplying at a rapid rate. The punks and grunge folks are doing shit with textiles that makes every quilting grandmother in a five mile radius swoop in to pass on their skills. Josie and Betty, old friends who periodically upload photos online of their handmade lace, suddenly gain an influx of young folks who want to learn how to make their own ghoulish patterns.
There's a new group peeling off from the goths that dress like the embodiment of Halloween– all bones, pumpkin orange and lengths of costume jewelry.
The historical costuming community is alive and well in these times, and they fall upon the few ghosts from times past willing to share knowledge like starving wolves. Their minds are full of patterning-math and fabric prices, and their excitement is, quite literally, infectious.
A revolution starts up in food service: a great many restaurants closed or moved to follow the many people who left Amity after the ghosts first came. A pair of brothers open a restaurant that has the best Polish food around: people politely don't comment on how the owners are dressed in clothes a century out of date or how their eyes gleam. Two cat cafes open, one space themed and another with loose definitions of what counts as a "cat." Assorted coffee and tea shops dot the landscape: some serve donuts, some have cupcakes, and others have breakfast wraps, sandwiches or savory hand pies.
People that can't afford to open a restaurant sell food out of their homes, advertised by cardboard signs with phrases like CAKES FOR $10, and BARBEQUE RIBS FOR SALE painted on them in gigantic bright letters. High school students bring in bags of cookies they made the night before and completely sell out of stock before the day is done. One woman's house has no signage and yet is known by word of mouth to be a herbalist, selling tins of homemade tea blends, flowers, assorted plant clippings, and cough drops.
Someone down the street of Casper High sells small batches of eco-friendly soap at a nearby corner store.
During summer time, lemonade stands are everywhere. Some of the lemonade is made with the strange fruits from one of the parks: no one dies, so it's fine.
The Farmer's Market has gotten... intense.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 6 months
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Hallow'seams
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A Seams Halloween special oneshot
{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: A spicy T
Summary: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.
Warnings: Joel wears a slutty Halloween costume, fluff, mentions of drinking, spicy thoughts but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N
Word count: 1.7k
Notes: I was so looking forward to writing this Seams Halloween special that I floated back in the summer. Unfortunately, life™ happened - I've had a very rough month and honestly I didn't think I had it in me to do any writing for the rest of this year, but then this happened! I woke up thinking about Joel wearing a Gladiator costume and couldn't put it down. It's not as long or intricate as my original idea, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I've missed these two so much!
Thank you for sticking with me and giving me so much love, I really don't deserve you all 🧡 Happy Halloween!
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Joel pushes open the door to the High Street Outfitters, one booted foot steps over the threshold -
And he stops and stares.
Pumpkins of all sizes, some more crudely carved than others, seem to occupy every conceivable surface. Black cat and broomstick decals adorn the worn wooden walls, while hand-pulled cotton cobweb the ceilings.
When his feet unstick and move into the empty shop, he nearly topples a huge cauldron of what looks like homemade candy. Steadying it with his hands, he mutters under his breath. 'What the f-'
He would never admit it, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when you emerge from the studio with a dramatic flutter of the curtain divider. 'Oh hey, you're here!'
Stepping towards you, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a hello, and gestures. 'You really went all out, hmm?'
Your grin brims with pride, and he feels his lips stretch into an answering smile as you straighten up some of the costumes on a nearby rack.
'We found a Halloween shop nearby a few years back,' you explain. 'All their stock was still in boxes in the store room, so we took everything and ran with it. It's a lot of work every year, but the kids have so much fun with it, it's definitely worth it.'
Joel hums skeptically. 'Not just the kids have fun, from what I heard.'
You cross your arms and play coy. 'What have you heard?'
'That my brother hosts the rowdiest Halloween party in town for the adults every year, and tonight is their last hurrah before the baby comes.'
You chuckle. 'And I'm guessing you fought the costume and lost?'
'There’s no winnin’ when your sister-in-law plays the pregnancy card,' he grumbles with poorly concealed fondness.
You walk him towards the racks near the cashier. 'Here are the men's costumes. We run a pay what you want system for Halloween rentals, just pop your contribution into that pumpkin on the counter. You better hurry though, things start kicking off around seven tonight.'
Joel combs through the outfits half-heartedly, when a standalone clothes rack on the other side of the room, covered with a black sheet, catches his eye. 'And what's that?'
You hesitate, and stutter, 'Oh, um - you won’t like those.'
Arching an eyebrow, he stares down at you. 'Why is that, sweetheart?'
The endearing way you wring your hands and worry your bottom lip brings him right back to when he first met you. Your shyness has always provoked a reaction from him - an understanding at first, from the introvert in him. Then protectiveness, when he started spending time with you.
And now, knowing you the way he does, with you opening up to him over the past few months, he lets his mouth relax into a half-smirk, one hand curling around your waist to pull you into his side as he teases, 'Use your words, Pin.'
You huff, recognising the playfulness in his body language, but you still struggle to get the words out. 'They’re - um, damnit - they're adventurous.'
He sets his face in a mock stern expression. 'And what, I’m too borin' for them?'
Narrowing your eyes at him, which makes him grin, you deadpan, 'It's just - they're not your thing, ok? They're of the -' you pause, and gesture in air quotes. 'Occupational variety.'
Comprehension dawns on him, and he drawls, 'Ah, you mean slutty costumes.'
He can feel your skin heat at his words as you duck your head, and he teases, voice low and gruff by your ear. 'And will you be wearin' somethin' slutty for me tonight, sweetheart?'
Your breath hitches and your lips part, eyes glassy at the turn of the mood. 'Joel -'
He isn't a particularly spiritual man, but the longer he lives, the more he’s convinced that some people are put on earth for a reason.
And Lucy's raison d'etre is to cockblock him at every turn.
The door bursts open with a brash energy that is uniquely hers (with an uncanny resemblance to Ellie's), and your best friend doesn't skip a beat at the sight of the pair of you canoodling. 'Save the making out for later, Miller. We gotta go get ready Pin, c’mon!'
You hastily press a kiss to his whiskered cheek. 'Pick your costume and lock up behind you, ok? I'll see you in a bit.'
Lucy all buts hauls you out of the shop, throwing over her shoulder. 'See ya later, Miller! You better show up half naked!'
Curiosity getting the better of him, Joel pulls back the sheet from the clothes rack, and his eyebrows reach for his softly graying hairline. Leafing through the options, he pauses somewhere in the middle, and smiles to himself.
He’ll show you adventurous.
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Maria and Tommy's Halloween party is easily the most anticipated event in the Jackson social calendar. Illicit incentives often swap hands for a RSVP, with those unfortunate enough to be assigned patrol duties on the night willing to pay handsomely for a swap in shifts.
While the kids are knocked out at home from eating their body weight in sugar, the Tipsy Bison is teeming with townsfolk. The normally dark interiors are decked out floor to ceiling in garish black and orange, as if people wouldn't get the memo.
Joel was apprehensive on his arrival, pausing for a moment outside the double doors of the establishment to steel himself. But as soon as he crosses the threshold into the warm and boisterous bar, so loud that his right ear rings, he realises that his worries are completely unwarranted.
No one even bats an eyelid as he wades through the throngs of partygoers, nodding politely at acquaintances who drunkenly shout his name and raise a pitcher in greeting.
It's pure madness - Halloween stopped existing for him twenty years ago. The last time he went to a Halloween party was their neighbour's barbeque. He still remembers the Gryffindor costume he bought Sarah, and how big she smiled swishing around in her robe, casting gibberish spells on her friends all night.
This, however, is a distinctly grownup affair.
When he put on his costume and stood in front of the mirror an hour ago, he could barely look at his own reflection. But now, compared to others in the room, turns out his choice is almost demure.
He only saw Gladiator once when it came out a couple of years before the outbreak, but he liked it, and when he saw the costume on the rack, he picked it out straight away.
The dark red cape sits on his shoulders and drapes across half of his torso - shirtless, of course - baring his right arm. He's a bit self-conscious about the skirt (he's sure there's a name for it but the packaging didn't shed light on this), which sits mid-thigh, fastened by a belt around his waist. He's even wearing the Roman sandals and leather bracelet, and a plastic sword hangs from his belt - the full monty.
The vain side in him thinks he can pull it off, but more importantly -
He wore it for you.
But you're nowhere to be seen, even after he grabs a beer from the counter, having circled the bar twice. Spotting a lone empty chair at a high table, he decides to perch (pulling down his skirt so his boxers don't show) while he has a drink and looks for you.
His keen eyes scan the room methodically. Sexy witches, slutty lumberjacks, misbehaving firemen, naughty nurses - together with the noise, everyone and everything seems to blur into one, and he almost gives up when something familiar crosses his line of sight.
Joel frowns.
Hold up. That toolbelt looks familiar. His eyes narrow as he squints at the worn faded leather.
It is his toolbelt. The toolbelt that disappeared from his garage workshop a couple of days ago that Ellie swears she knows nothing about. That little shit.
Then his gaze pulls back, like a camera zooming out, and he finds that the toolbelt is sitting on the soft swell of a pair of hips, over short denim cut-offs that he's sure he's seen before, and below a red flannel. His red flannel, knotted at the waist, that he knows you sleep in every night.
His chest rumbles with something primal, and he downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp before slamming the empty pint glass on the table and getting onto his feet.
You don’t see him coming, but you know without turning around the moment a pair of strong hands close over your hips in a possessive grip, pulling you towards the bathroom in the back of the bar.
He knocks a breathless laugh out of you when he pushes you up the closed door, the noise of the party muted by the thick timber as you grin up at him, preening at the way his dark gaze rakes over your costume.
A shiver runs down your spine as your own undoubtedly dilated eyes follow the solid outline of his right arm, which flexes as he rests his palm on the door behind you, then down his broad chest and the soft belly he’s so nonchalantly putting on display.
It’s absurd, you know - it’s just a tacky Halloween costume, but the seams of your eyes prickle as you muse how comfortable he is in his own skin.
'And what exactly are you dressed up as?' he asks, sliding his free hand under the toolbelt to squeeze your ass.
'A slutty contractor,' you answer boldly, dragging your index finger down his bare chest. 'Isn't it obvious?'
'And you thought stealin' my toolbelt for your little costume was a good idea?' he growls.
'Well, I didn't know you'd turn up as a gladiator of all things,' you tease, wrapping your fingers around the hilt of his plastic sword.
It should not make his pulse spike like this.
'Not only that, sweetheart. I'm a slutty gladiator, thank you very much,' he retorts, walking into you to slot his hips flush against yours.
You shoot him a loaded smirk that instantly has his boxers shrink by two sizes. Ripping his cape off his shoulders, you ask cheekily, ‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'
Joel doesn't let you finish your sentence, swallowing the rest of it with a kiss so deep that it steals your voice and takes out your knees in one fell swoop.
Grinning at the way you're already bonelessly slumped against him, he winks, nose brushing yours. 'I can think of a few things, sweetheart.'
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Note: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun dipping my toe back into the Seams universe, I hope you did too. This is me warming up with a view of returning to writing for the series proper, fingers crossed sometime soon! Comments/reblogs/asks are very much appreciated as always 🧡
Thank you @firefly-graphics for the adorably spooky dividers!
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taocard · 10 months
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soft headcannons with tr
♡ I grant a wish for whoever summons me and take one thing as a payment ♡   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ♡when Baji gets bored gets bored, he doodles on your hands. but if you don't like that he will draw all over your scrap papers that you're using to finish your homework ♡if you have a favorite scent (pumpkin, lavender, ect..) Mitsuya will spray it all over his room to remind him of you. especially when you come over so that he can make you happy with the smell ♡Chifuyu calls you late at night to ramble about the thoughts that are keeping him up (an anime or manga he finished), and he loves it when you do the same ♡Souya links pinkies with you whenever you’re out in public but Nouya prefers holding your entire hand ♡Inui is a sucker for when you play with his hair or massage his scalp ♡Wakasa likes when you trace random shapes and letters over his skin, and it becomes a game of some sorts for him to guess what you're tracing ♡Izana is the type who’ll set up a blanket on the roof of some penthouse for you two to lay on and look up at the stars together  ♡Sanzu is going to melt if you kiss his scars and making a comment about how all of him is beautiful  ♡if you come over to Souya to give him a hug, Nouya will ALWAYS pop up with a grin and says, “what about me?” ...they're a package deal :)) ♡When you need Kakucho’s opinion at a clothing store for if you look good, he will always say “you look wonderful in that” because he looks at you like you're a god from another realm ♡Koko will tell you if something isn't your style. he isn't afraid to tell you because he’ll magically have something in his hands that looks a million times better ♡Koko will always buy you the newest product from this beauty line you like before you even learned something new was out  ♡you know how they say when someone is in love, they tend to copy habits of who they love? Sanzu does this by having notifications set on his phone that involve your likes because he's starting like almost everything that you do ♡Inui loves when you hug him from behind. it doesn't matter if he's cooking, talking to Koko, or doing anything really. he likes having you close to him and enjoys the feeling of you nuzzling into his back ♡Shin is a total simp for you. he has a picture of you on the back of his phone, a picture of you in his wallet, an album on his phone that's just photos of you, and even has one in his coat pocket. at this point it's like he walks around with a shrine of you ♡Mikey learned from his older brother, and when he's talking to his friends and all of a sudden, his eyes will light up and he’ll say “oh this reminds me of this thing y/n did the other day” which then begins his long ramble about you. even if the conversation has nothing to do with you, he will always find a way to bring you up ♡Mitsuya has a sketchbook that is only filled with wedding dresses/suits with the idea and mind that you will walk down the aisle wearing one of these ♡Izana likes it when you sing as he plays his guitar even if you're awful and have so many voice cracks. he finds it adorable ♡Chifuyu has a picture in his phone somewhere of you napping with Peke J on your chest ♡Sanzu has your coffee order memorized. whenever he goes out to get coffee, he always orders you a cup as well. it's become such a habit that he's accidentally bought you coffee when you already had one ♡the first time Ran saw you doing skincare he was mesmerized. so, he wanted to join you and dragged Rin into it (despite the younger’s protests). now it's become a habit to do skincare with the Haitani brothers  ♡Mitsuya may be the caretaker in your relationship, but it’d just make his entire morning if you were to give him breakfast in bed ♡Chifuyu enjoys laying his head on your lap and hearing you read the light novel version of his favorite manga ♡Ran likes when you braid his hair for him. he secretly swings his braids around more harsh and crazier than usual when you do his hair just so that he can see you sigh and start to do his hair again and feel you brush it and stuff ♡Rindou loves cuddling but is too nervous to initiate so he’ll just sit and mope next to you on the couch until you realize. luckily you notice rather quickly because he won't stop fiddling with your sleeve ♡if you're cold Kakucho will IMMEDIATELY try to warm you up. this man is putting his scarf around you, trying to warm your hand by holding them in his, even giving up his whole coat and setting it on your shoulders, ect ♡as we all know Mitsuya takes care of Luna and Mana, and he just loves seeing you interact with his sisters. he likes seeing how comfortable they are with you and how they always ask, “when's the next time y/n-san comes over?”. It’s one of the things that made him realize he's in love with you ♡when you and Mikey cuddle, he’s lying on top of you and falls asleep to the sound of your heartbeat  ♡if you and Hakkai are out doing something together and your mom calls you to check up on you, he gives you the perfect silence you need. but right before you hang up, he’ll quickly exclaim “tell her i said hi!” ♡whenever Kazutora wants to hug you or give physical affection he always asks for permission first. for example, “hey baby can i-and you don't have to say yes- can I hug you?” please let him hug you and kiss his forehead :((
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pupcuck · 4 months
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JINGLE BELL COCK !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, uncle/niece incest, somno
notes. MERRY CHRISTMAS!! this is very messy and rushed i haven’t been able to write properly lately so forgive me for the repetitiveness and clunkiness!! ignore typos as always :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated !!! this is reallyyy sloppy and I’m embarrassed so I may go back and delete and rewrite in a few days time 😭
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“Woah,” Leon's knees almost buckle when you barrel into him, “Pumpkin, wow,” He takes you in, settles his hands on your hips, and it might be inappropriate ‘cause your mother glares at him over your shoulder. What did she want him to do? Grab your ass? Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. Just doesn’t wanna get put on a list of some kind. “You’re so big now.”
“Yeah?” Your cheeks split with a sweet smile, “I missed you, uncle.”
“God, you’re so big I can’t believe it,” He gives you a once over, he’d like to catcall you to show you how he feels, Leon refrains from doing so. “I remember when you were a kid, always sat in my lap ‘n said you wanted to marry me.”
“Awww,” A gloved hand comes to pat his cheek, you take the tip of the fabric between your teeth, taking it off finger by finger, “I can do that again if you’d really like, uncle.” Your nails scratch his scruffy chin, press your finger into the divot he hates so much, then you stare right at it. Don’t look at that, god. Totally messed him over. Shit fucked up his golden ratio.
“What're you lookin’ at, pumpkin?” He shifts from foot to foot, moves his flight bag from one shoulder to the other.
“Just never seen you with a beard,” You shrug, beaming at him once more. Okay, not the chin then, thank fuck. “It’s cute, uncle, makes you look older.” Leon doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, though he feels his spinal disk shrink with each passing second.
You turn on your heels when his sister-in-law, fine as ever, says your name, “We should go before she gets pissy.” You tell him cheekily, taking his hand in yours, and you’re so big now he can’t believe it. A whole lot of tit, hip, and your ass ain’t too shabby either. Leon’s justification is that he’s only a man, can't help himself when he sees a pretty girl, even if said girl is his niece. He’s an honest guy, gotta give his brother props for marrying such a smokeshow, even more credit for knocking her up. ‘Cause she popped out an even hotter girl, younger, brighter, and your tits sit prettier.
Their family stands on crumbling foundations, when he’s around his brother, Leon’s five seconds away from blowing his brains out at any given moment. He doesn’t know why people question his suicidal tendencies, he’s more than willing to show them. Snow crunches under his boots as he navigates the path leading up to the front door. The layer of glossy red paint has chipped away to reveal the mahogany beneath. It’s been that long, huh?
“I’m in college now, I have my licence and everything, uncle, I wanted to visit you in D.C. but I couldn’t get ahold of you,” You chatter to him, tugging at your laces and propping your shoes up on the shelf near the door, make the move to grab his suitcase, but Leon swiftly moves it aside. “I can carry it, I’m a big girl now.”
“No, you’re not,” Leon frowns, to him you’re a baby. An undeveloped prefrontal cortex and a soft spot on the top of your head. Yeah, you got a rack now, sure, he wants to fuck you now - doesn’t change a thing.
“Okay, well did you bring me a present?” You trail after him, and you really are still a baby.
“Yeah, you’re my favourite girl, I bought you lots.” He’s not sure if you’ll like it. Colouring books, dolls, plastic jewellery. He’s a bit of an idiot. Didn’t think about how long it’s been.
“Can I open them now?” You seat yourself next to him on the couch, knee bumping his.
“Later, pumpkin, I promise.”
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“I want to transfer to Washington.” Wine trickles over the edge of your cup, Leon soaks it up with a napkin, dabs at your face when a rivulet dribbles down your chin.
His brother’s knocked out in their dad’s old armchair, it’s beyond saving, but he’s cheap. Your mom retired to bed a while back, they argued over something trivial, a cheeseboard or some shit, and with that it leaves the two of you.
“Yeah? You got friends out there or what?”
“No, but you’re there, uncle.” You grin, batting your lashes so pretty he gets without popping a viagra or two. Three. He needs three minimum. “I could come stay with you, right?”
Fuck no, under no circumstance should he be allowed within fifty feet of you. And here Leon is, bumping knees, brushing fingers like you’re lovesick teens on a first date. That’s just not right, is it? He’s a decrepit old man on his way to getting a senior bus pass, and he’s your uncle and all. Can’t really go around popping boners over family members.
“I work too much.” Leon says coolly, sweat dripping from his temple, drumming his fingers against the table. “Hey, you wanna open your presents?”
“Yes!” You nod with wild enthusiasm, like a bobblehead, cute ones you keep on the dashboard. Leon would love to take you home with him, display you on the mantle like a China doll, show you off like some rare artefact. Just can’t, he’d end up doing something awful, peeking in on you showering— or worse he’d start sleepwalking, get into your room- “Go get them then, uncle.”
The paper is pink, the shade you used to adore as a young girl, the colour you’ve since painted over in your room. He got that professionally wrapped, big bow on it and all. Leon’s not good at making things look pretty. It’s easier to assemble a gun than it is to wrap presents. Your name is scrawled on the tag in cursive writing that belongs to none other than Claire, she insisted on doing so, felt inclined after seeing his chicken-scratch.
“It’s for me, you shouldn’t have, uncle!” You snatch it out of his hands, Jesus, had more manners when you were a kid. Once you tear through the paper, you blink down at the plastic princess costume jewellery. Clip-on earrings, fluffy mules that are much too tiny, the whole lot. “Oh, wow, well, it sure is nice.”
“Pumpkin,” Leon starts, “It slipped my mind that you’re a big girl now, I wasn’t thinkin’ and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” You placate him with your smile, “I’m just glad you’re here.” Cheesy, still makes him swoon.
“We can go shopping ‘fore I go back, I’ll buy you whatever, yeah?”
“I don’t need that,” You shake your head, eyes flitting from his lower half then to his lips. He’s making shit up in his head now. It’s late, Leon should go to sleep, doesn’t wanna start kissing on you and end up in court. “Oh, you’re going already?”
“I’m tired, pumpkin.” My dick is so hard it’s cutting off all blood flow to my brain, my pants are squeezing it so tight I’m gonna contract sepsis and that shit will fall straight off, I don’t want my dick to fall off, pumpkin, hope you can understand my reasoning. Leon hopes you can see the desperation in his eyes, that you can see the sentiment he’s trying to get across.
The bed creaks with his weight, and it’s the same dusty, bed-bug ridden shit his brother’s had for years. He jerks off, blows his load on his stomach, too worn out to clean it up. Falls asleep with his hand down his pants. Then Leon starts having wet dreams like he’s twenty-one again, of your petal lips, of your hands on his dick, your tits, how your thighs look when you sit. Warmth engulfs his cock, and it’s so real, he’s so sure you’re right there, sucking him off like a good girl. You’re cute like a sex doll, and it’s unfair that he has to put on this uncle act. Used to come natural to him when you were a kid, but it’s just different.
Only when Leon lifts his hand does he come into contact with skin, with hair, and a human. At first, he thinks it’s the dog, one of the three. Then he feels small hands parting his thighs further, the familiarity of your smile warming his skin.
“Pumpkin.” Leon rasps, and it’s not quite warning, just a tone that says keep going, but this is fucked up, doesn’t mean I don’t want it though. He thanks you for making the first move.
You pull off with a wet pop, kissing along his Apollo’s belt. “I want to come to D.C. and stay with you,” You say between fervid kisses, “I want to be with you, uncle, you’re handsome and I like you.” Your confession is feverish, he wonders if you realise the weight of your words. Can’t go around telling lonely old men that you like ‘em.
“I’m your uncle, pumpkin.” Leon states simply, ‘cause he’s an adult and he’s collected, but you can keep pumping his dick like that, he really don’t mind.
“No one would know,” You kiss the sticky tip, pre smeared over your lips like lip gloss, tongue poking out to taste him, dipping into his leaky slit. “I could be your girlfriend.” Leon doesn’t even know you, he knows the little girl you once were.
Leon’s too old for that shit. Girlfriend boyfriend talk. “I’m too old to be dating, pumpkin.” He cradles the back of your head with his calloused hand, guides you to base of his shaft, your tongue tracing the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.
“Yeah, but you’re not too old to marry me, are you?” You’re a clever girl, giving him a cheeky smile as you sit up and clamber into his lap.
“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Don’t stop, pumpkin. Same thing. He hopes his dick says enough, standing proud as you lift your hips, wet hole stretching to accommodate his fat tip. Leon can’t see your face, but he shuts his eyes and thinks about it, how your lips would part so pretty, and you’d toss your head back, sweat making your skin all shiny.
“I just really like you, uncle.” One way ticket out of this shitty town, away from his shitry brother, away from your narc bitch of a mom, free food, free housing - Leon understands your motive. Truly, he does, and he can’t find it in himself to give a damn. If you pretend to love then it matters all the same.
“Okay, then sit on it, pumpkin.” Leon urges, firm hands finding purchase on your hips, forcing you down on his cock till you take all of him to the hilt. The head bumps your cervix, and Leon is in love with you. Thank fuck he came back home, thank god, thank Claire for pushing him to the point of booking a flight. “You wanna marry me?”
“I told you, didn’t I? Promised I was gonna marry you when I was a kid.” You press your tits flush to his chest, lips ghosting Leon’s. “I wanna marry you so bad, uncle, you’re all I want.” And Leon can’t help himself, doesn’t mean to let go so early, the coils of heat in his belly turn searing, and he empties himself into you with a groan. The quiet noise of disappointing you let out as his cock softens inside of you is adorable.
“You gotta get used to that if you marry me, I’m old now.” He strokes your head, holds you tight, refuses to let go now that he’s got you.
“I can deal with it, uncle, as long as I get to be your wife.”
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