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#that 'i'm gonna drive' look just isn't that good!! anyway.
zmediaoutlet · 1 year
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happy wincest day, z! (every day, every day)
a q for u: in my head, you're the queen of the 'established relationship' fic (if that's a mischaracterisation, apologies, you just do it so well), but if you had to pick the time (season/era) when they most likely crossed that line, when would it be?
side question: what's a season/moment for first-time that you find underrated/unconventional/fascinating?
happy wincest any day, all the days! (sidenote I keep having these ultra busy weekends and there's no sign of that stopping so oh man, catching up on asks is a Task! but here I am! so strong, admire the strength -- anyway -- )
I do not mind being queen of established relationship! It's my favorite fic model -- like I almost never click on first time, haha -- so it's a good thing to be known for. :) My... very very boring answer to this question is that 'most likely' just entirely depends on the background & sexualities of the Winchesters you've decided to work with -- all of which can change a lot even inside wildly canon-feeling presentations, because the nice thing about Supernatural's canon is that there's a ton of wiggle-room to play with their histories and internal processing. There are places you can go which start to feel OOC, but like -- it's trivially easy to say that, e.g., Dean did sex work for an unspecified period pre-pilot. Sam had a bi-curious moment in college. Sam and Dean were alone in a cabin in Wyoming for three straight months and started to get stir crazy. When he was 17, Dean and John [redacted]. With all of those potential options, 'most likely' gets really hard to pin down.
THAT SAID: the model of the Winchesters that I personally Queen Z of Established Relationship Grotto prefer to go with is:
a Dean who did a non-personally-traumatizing amount/degree of sex work in his late teens/twenties; a Dean who is bisexual but of the model where he tends to sleep with women because they're easier/more practical, but leans homoromantic and operates in a more neutral men-who-have-sex-with-men model where they Don't Talk About it; Dean and John were Some Kinda Way (emotionally if not physically incestuous); Dean is aware that his own feelings over Sam are fucked up; and then
a Sam who is mostly straight although doesn't tie his personality to that fact, bc he knows himself pretty well and doesn't need to front about it; a Sam who may have had a same-sex handjob or something in college but, again, it doesn't definitionally change anything for him; a Sam who actually kind of leans aro, mostly because the only relationship he really needs is the relationship with Dean; a Sam who knew that Dean and John were Weird (but not the extent); a Sam who wants a lot of things, but he really wants to want things, which is substantively different.
So: given those two guys, I really like them hooking up very specifically in the area around 2.02, Everybody Loves a Clown.
It's a great moment for a lot of reasons. John's looming presence is cut out, although of course that ghost haunts them still and the effect of his death is a shockwave that changes things massively for both sons. Sam's dragged closer to the family (too little, too late) and turns inward in a big way; Dean's sense of loyalty is cracked in half, both because of John's loss and because of the unthinkable last job he was given, and he's turned toward rebellion for possibly the first time since he was eight. Plus it's just a good atmosphere: hot, oppressively sweaty, that uncompromising sun beating down and searing away all the shadows they used to lurk in. No matter who starts it, they're both in a wildly unstable place and the underlying rules of their relationship have changed -- something that I think is key for a first time to feel legit. It's also one of my favorite places for the ostensible one-and-done that might lurk in the bg of 'first time in a long time,' another of my happiest fic models: that e.g. Sam was drunk and grieving and made a pass at Dean, and maybe they kissed and maybe they even crashed the yogurt truck together (my new favorite euphemism for ejaculation), but that afterward it's put away, and it's not until like s11 that they open up that box again.
As for the side question: since I don't really like first time, this one's tough, but I will say that I'm pretty done with first time in s1. They barely know each other. Give them a minute. Get some s12 maturity-and-shock feels when their mother's gone a-fucking-gain. Get some s6 when Sam's freshly resouled and Dean's so happy he could light up the room. Wendigo? Wen-suck my dick.
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kissitbttr · 6 months
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cake testing with miguel for the wedding!
a/n: featuring a very possessive miguel
continuation from this!
it has been one of your favorite wedding plans that you always look forward to. When your best friend got married, she took you with her to help her choose which one was the best. The caterer brought six classic flavors and both of your eyes twinkled with excitement. The same goes for your best friend. You and her almost demolished that one special raspberry lemon cake with her, since both of you have a sweet spot for fresh fruits.
You could guess which one ended up at the wedding reception.
And now, getting to do it with your soon to be husband, Miguel, just seems like a dream come true.
"So, Darla isn't gonna be with us since she's got errands to run, her assistant is going to replace her today." You inform your fiancee as he drives.
He squeezes your thigh with his hand as an answer, focusing his eyes on the road. You look up from your phone to watch him drive. A smile graces upon your lips as you think how good he looks while doing it. Furrowed eyebrows in concentration, a small pout on his lips with one hand on the wheel.
Fuck, he looks absolutely delicious.
Miguel senses your gaze on him, causing him to glance at you for a second before a grin spreads across his handsome face.
"What?"
You shrug. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Look sexy while driving"
He snorts out a laugh before making a turn. "I don't"
it's your turn to snort as you shake your head. "Humbleness is good. But God you're a liar."
"Ah, si? But you do love me, no?"
"Unfortunately" You answer, causing him to pinch the inside of your thigh making you giggle. "If we're not on our way to the boutique, I would hop on that dick right now"
He groans at that, eyes shutting briefly as the thoughts of you riding him in the car fill his mind. And seeing the seductive smirk on your face and how divine you look in that white sundress, it's already hard enough.
''Just say the word and I'll pull over mami." He's dead serious. You could see his hand gripping tightly around the wheel.
"And be late? No can do. Plus, I dressed really nicely for today and I do not want to ruin that."
"We can be quick" He tries again, smirking at you. "20 minutes top."
"Knowing you, it could never be 20 minutes. An hour and a half maybe." You point out, re-applying the gloss on your lips before smacking it. "And that's why I'm always late to work"
"You're killing me here, Y/N." He sighs loudly, pulling over to where the boutique is. "I never hear you complain about you being late when my cock is buried deep in your pussy, anyway."
You feign an offensive look as you slowly turn your head at him, shooting a soft glare. "Excuse me? What happened to getting rid of the first-name basis?!"
Yes. You made it clear from the start of the relationship that you refuse to be called by your first name anymore. It simply just won't cut it. You made sure to give him hell every time he called you that, even if he had done it by accident. Miguel was silently pulling his hair because you can be quite mean about that. Though he won't admit how you driving him insane is sexy. Like, really, fucking sexy.
it's a turn-on for him at this point.
"Shit, my bad" He parks the car as you both get ready to walk out. "Sorry baby." He leans over to peck your lips with his hand still on your thigh. The action makes you smile.
“That’s better”
Miguel gets out first, not allowing you both to walk out at the same time because he wants to be the one who opens the car door for you. Despite you telling him that you're perfectly capable of doing that by yourself, he argues with the fact that gentlemen always open doors for their women. Your heart does a somersault every time. It never goes away.
"Got everything, mi amor?" He asks as he extends his hand which you take, before shutting the door. You nod at him, and the two of you walk into the boutique hand in hand. "Dios... You look so good right now, I might just have to fuck you out here"
You gasp at that, slapping him in the chest, earning a low chuckle from him. "Easy there, tiger. I'm not going anywhere" You scold him but secretly love it when his filter's off
“How can i take it easy when your… Girls look so inviting?” His eyes glances at your breasts being pushed up by the cups of your dress, gulping at the sight. “They want me to play with them” A pout on his lips making your heart melt.
“Ugh, Miggy! please do not call them girls” You whine, shaking your head. “I thought we agreed on ‘tits’? Just tits.”
“Alright, alright fine… You’re no fun sometimes” He jokes, kissing your cheek. “Now, is this it?”
You nod, pushing your sunglasses up to the top of your head. “Darla said we can just walk right in.”
Miguel opens the door before allowing you to walk in first as he follows from behind. Red orbs scanning over the interior of the shop. It’s pretty. Lots of flowers in each corner, the paint is mostly pink and white.
“So is this where you and Darla had done the cake testing?” He asks, hand snaking around your waist.
“Yes! It’s so beautiful isn’t it? It’s like something coming out of fairytale or that ‘Enchanted’ movie we watched the other day. Darla really did amazing with this one. Though i did advice her to fix up the ceilings a bit and enhance the structure on that specific corner there.” You point with your manicured finger. “I offered to redesign and oversee the construction more. Just to help her a bit.”
He hums, squeezing your waist before planting a kiss on top of your head. “Look at you go… My little architect” He mumbles softly.
There’s no doubt on his mind that he’s proud of you. He loves seeing you work and help your friends who are in need. And that smart little brain of your is one of the things that made him fall in love with you in the first time. Jess had introduced you to him one time when he was scouting for a new architect to remodel the Spider Society’s HQ.
He was definitely entranced by your beauty when he saw you walked into his office with Jess by your side. You looked so sophisticated and elegant with glasses and the dress you had on that time. Long hair fixed into a messy bun as you shot him a smile before saying your name.
From that moment on, he was hooked. And made it his mission to make you his.
“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. O’Hara?” Both of your ears perk at the sound of someone calling your names. You see a man, who’s probably in his late 20s emerging from the back with a smile. No doubt about it that he is quite handsome.
“Hi there! How are you? My name is Cameron, i’m Darla’s assistant. And my my, Darla didn’t say anything about her client being beautiful.” He chuckles as he lets out the joke. “She said you are stopping by for the cakes?” He flashes his toothy smile at you, and only at you.
Miguel frowns, at that. That doesn’t seem professional now, does it?
You choose to ignore that comment before smiling. “Yes, we are actually! I mean, I’ve done it with Darla about two weeks ago but my fiancé haven’t. So I’m bringing him, so he can taste it for himself.” Your hand squeezing your lover’s arm that is still settled around your waist.
The man nods, smiling as his eyes aren’t leaving yours which makes Miguel even more uneasy. And the way he looks at you from head to toe makes his blood boil.
He knows how men think, and he thinks. No, he knows that this asshole is basically undressing you with his eyes.
But Miguel is not the type create a confrontation. At least not anymore now that he’s with you. So he might’ve to push those feelings aside because he knows how much this means to you.
“Well step right here, I’ve prepared it all just for you, Ms. Y/L/N” He winks, gesturing you to follow him to where the cakes have been displayed.
Is he fucking serious?! Miguel thinks.
“So 6 different flavors, yes? Chocolate Lava, Lemon Raspberry, Strawberry Champagne, Red Velvet, Hazelnut Praline, aaand Hawaiian. That one is vegan” He checks off the last one on the list. “Customer’s favorite always been the Praline or Lemon Raspberry. You look like you deserve the latter. The best reserved only for the prettiest”
Again, you ignore his comment. “Oh well i tasted the Strawberry Champagne and it was amazing. But I’m leaving it to my fiancé here, so he can choose” You look up to him and notice there’s a slight frown on his face. “Baby?”
Miguel regains his composure when you call him, snapping him out of the thoughts of him killing Cameron in his mind. “Oh. Yeah yeah. Sure. You know my taste buds don’t matter just as long my woman is happy”
He makes sure to emphasize the words ‘my woman’ just so the guy can get the picture but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it.
“Well, we’re in this together so your taste does matter, as well.” You’re completely oblivious with the soft glare that Miguel throws at Cameron’s direction. Hands softly picking the forks from the table to cut a piece,
“Here. Let’s try the Chocolate—“
“Why don’t you feed it to me, mi amor?” He asks, looking at you with a smile. “One fork for two.”
If he can’t be violent then he’s got to find a way to make sure that this Cameron fellow understands that you’re fucking off limits.
You raise an eyebrow at the suggestion. “Sure, papi” You mirror his expression before cutting the cake, lifting it to feed him,
He takes a bite. Eyes dead set on the man who stands awkwardly from across, gaze looking anywhere but him.
“Hm” He nods. “That one’s good. Dark chocolate is it?”
“Right?” You ask cheerily. “Darla is amazing, i swear i need them all 6.” As you turn to fees yourself with the chocolate cake.
He shrugs, wiping a bit of the frosting from the corner of his mouth. “You’re the bride baby, you can have all 6 for the wedding, i don’t mind. I got the money for it anyway.”
You smile at him, kissing his jaw. “I love you, but we can’t be too greedy now can we?” A giggle escape your lips.
Oh he knows. He just wanted to make sure that son of a bitch gets it through his thick fucking skull that you’re his.
The two of you continue to feed each other’s cakes— more like you feeding it to him to be honest— rating each and every single one. Making sure to put a mental note on whichever you prefer before coming back next week and pick one.
Miguel glances at Cameron every now and then and watches how he stays quiet for the rest of it, letting you and Miguel do your thing. Probably too scared after seeing the intimidating look on his face.
“Gotta say, Strawberry Champagne and Chocolate one are amazing.” Miguel points, rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. “You sure have a great taste, cariño. Confío en ti con todo.”
“Gracias, mi corazón” you put down the fork back on the table, smiling up at Cameron. “That’d be all i guess, yeah? But i think we’ll be back next week to pick one for sure. Will Darla be here?”
“She hasn’t said anything about it but uh, i-i’ll make sure” He stutters a bit, smiling nervously and trying to avoid Miguel’s death stare.
“Okay then. Well, thank you, Cameron for assisting us today. We have to get going now, still have a lot to work on” You offer a polite smile to his direction. “Shall we get going?”
Miguel nods, eyes still fixated on Cameron. “Yeah sure. But uh.. Can you wait for me by the car? I just need a few words regarding with the cakes with Cameron”
He’s not letting this off easy.
You watch how his eyes trained to the young employee, scrunching your brows as Miguel turns to look at you with a soft gaze. “It’ll be just a minute, baby.” He presses a reassuring kiss on your temple,
“Okay” You nod, smiling softly. waving a hand at Cameron before walking towards the exit. Soon as you’re out of their sight, Miguel turns his gaze back on Cameron. The young man looks like he’s about to piss in his pants.
The two stands in silence for a while as Miguel looks at him up and down.
“You ever gotten your ass kicked, Cameron?”
The question throws him off guard. Eyes widening while his mouth hangs open.
“S-sir?”
“It’s a question. Yes or no.”
“Well uhm, n-no sir” Cameron shakes his head. “Wha-“
“You do know that me and my girl came as a couple, yes? Or are you fucking blind?” Miguel’s eyebrow raises at him, arms crossed over his chest.
“I see that, Mr. O’Hara. I-i didn’t— I’m sorr-“
“You flirt with every customers? With their soon to be bride? Or is it just my woman you’re after?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth.
“N-no, Mr. O’Hara.”
“No as in what?”
“J-just her, i-i mean your woman.” He nervously confesses,
Miguel lets out a dry chuckle. “Let’s get one fucking thing straight, kid.” He leans forward, balling his fists before resting them on the table
“If you ever flirt with her, look at her or hell, if you even think about her when we come back next week, i will make sure no one remember how you look. And trust me when i say that this is not a threat but it’s a promise. Understood?” His voice laced with venom as he points his finger at Cameron’s chest who gulps,
Nodding quickly, he answers. “Understood.”
“Very well” Miguel retreats, taking a bottle of water from the table. “Stay away from my wife”
With that he walks out of the boutique, breathing out a heavy sigh, unscrewing the bottle cap before taking a gulp.
“How’s the interrogation goes?” You speak up with a playful smirk. “Did you manage to make him piss?”
He looks at you as he walks towards the car, shrugging. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” He replies.
Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms. “I saw you, papi. You almost kill the kid.”
“Again, i don’t know what you’re talking about.” He smiles innocently, both arms snaking around your waist to pull you close. Seems like a good kid. So i didn’t say anything”
A laugh escapes from your lips, one that he loves most—besides your perfect moans— “I know you, O’Hara. Like i said, a bad liar.”
“Alright fine, you caught me” He holds his hands up in defense. “He’s lucky i didn’t punch him.”
“That would be a sight for sore eyes.” You tease. “You know there’s nothing to be afraid of, right? Ain’t any other man could possibly steal my heart like you did three years ago.”
“Yeah well maybe if you stopped looking so fucking beautiful with your big pretty eyes and soft pouty mouth, then maybe men wouldn’t try to chase you off and i wouldn’t have 50+ competitions” He complains. But in reality he doesn’t mind.
“Oh excuse me, Mr? You don’t think i got one too?” You ask him through your lashes since his physique is towering you. “I had to put your ex back in her place at the Gala we attended three months ago, you remember? Slimy bitch.”
He laughs hard at that, head shaking at the memory of you confronting Dana was truly one of the unforgettable moments he has of you. “So, what’s next on the agenda?”
You look back at your phone before replying, “Seating arrangements on 112th street. Now this, we can use that 20 minutes up for something else since they’re running late.”
Miguel’s eyes harden as your finger running up and down his chest. “You mean—“
“Offer still stands. Want me to ride you while we wait?” You chew on your lower lip, gazing up at him and giving him your best doe eyes.
“Baby, if i ever said no to that question… Please feel free to grab my gun under my desk and shoot me in the head” He states, making you laugh as you throw your head back.
-
This feels like shit :/ I’m sorry but i need to clear out a few WIPs in my drafts
Though i still hope you all like it!
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arminsumi · 8 months
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Saw this and thought... Mafia AU Gojo & Geto 👀
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Share a piece of your juicy brain thoughts please, I'm collecting all the scraps 😗
PRETTY THING LIKE YOU.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑
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NOTE: OH TO BE IN THAT CAR 🛐 anyways, these are just... messy ideas pls forgive me!! 🥲 idk how to write for mafia stuff but i adore the idea sm i wanted to say a lil smth about it
WARNINGS — fem reader, you're Toji's daughter, err mafia stuff warning idk?? implied kidnapping, implied light use of violence, Geto calling u nicknames (sweetheart, baby, etc), i made Gojo a meanie for some reason oops, some vague semblance of a plotline lol
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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Your dad is Toji Fushiguro, he sits on a big throne in this business. Everyone knows him, everyone's scared of him — why wouldn't they be? Except for these two particular men... who consider themselves the strongest 🙄 Big, big severely inflated egos they've got.
Toji hired Nanami to be the loyal bodyguard for his precious daughter. Why? Well, to put it simply — these two men are looking to take revenge on him with you as their playing card.
Geto and Gojo are on the hunt one night for you, and you fall right into their palms. Usually the black car with tinted windows has Nanami behind the wheel, ready to drive you home after a night out. But one night it's those two.
The drive is silent and uneasy. Gojo is flicking his gaze up at the rearview mirror to check you out with those piercing blue eyes of his. Geto is talking to you in a sickeningly saccharine sultry voice, nicknaming you sweetheart, princess, love, baby, etc... and trying his best to keep you calm with simple small-talk.
Gojo? He's more intimidating than his friend behind the wheel. He will not stop eyeing you out, even when you three end up in some fancy penthouse. You blink up at him innocently, it almost makes his heart lurch — he's wondering how such a pretty face came from such a bastard.
Whatever Toji did to them in the past, they were still seething over. Seems their idea of a revenge plot involved you. But you had no idea what to expect. They didn't have intent to hurt you — well, subtract Gojo pulling and pushing you around like a ragdoll when you weren't compliant enough. But Geto always scolded him.
In fact, Geto calmed the both of you so nicely. He put on water to boil and languidly stirred tea in the kitchen. It was surreal and bizarre in some way.
"Sweetheart, we're gonna be transparent with you. We're just keeping you here for a little while to get your dad's attention. You're gonna be treated like a princess, so don't you worry — " he lifted you by the chin so you had to look up at him, "A pretty thing like you isn't in trouble with us."
Gojo scoffed. He had his arms folded. Legs crossed. Spine slacked against the couch.
"Don't mind him, princess. He's just grumpy — your old man wasn't very kind to him in his youth." Geto explained super vaguely.
Gojo chuckled, "Yeah, you're damn right he wasn't kind to me. Sonofabitch wasted me."
"Well she had nothing to do with that, Satoru, so treat her good."
He grumbled in reluctant agreement. But the second Geto was out of sight, when Gojo led you to your bedroom, he entrapped you between two arms and practically pinned you to the wall.
"Listen — princess — " he mockingly impersonated Geto, "You keep those lips shut or I will shut them for you." he threatened, breathe fanning your face.
Well, it was hard to keep your lips shut. A week later, you woke up and went into the kitchen to find Gojo with a bloodstain in his white hair, Geto with a crimson splatter across his cheek, and a gun resting on the table that towered with green stacks of money. You didn't dare ask what was going on. You just looked at them until they said something from themselves.
"Don't worry." Geto's serene smile caught your worried gaze, "Just business, angel."
"What exactly-" you began, but Gojo gave you a sharp look and Geto immediately cut you off.
" — ah-ah, baby. We've already talked about this." he cooed. His smile had the vaguest sinister twist to it, "Keep that pretty mouth shut. No asking questions."
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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husbandhoshi · 3 months
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TO GROW LOVE (AND EAT IT TO THE CORE)
pairing: mingyu x gn!reader wc: 8.1k summary: your whole life, you've only wanted one thing. then you meet mingyu. suddenly you want too much, and you wish the summer never ended. notes: farmer!au, established relationship, angst/hurt/a little comfort
this is a birthday fic for my one and only cat @wuahae ! yes this is about half a year late but what can i say. all good things come with time. thank you for being so kind, funny, and thoughtful (and patient)! not a day goes by where i’m not thankful for our friendship :)
and a million thanks to hana @wqnwoos and jackie @97-liners for helping me with edits. literally you guys are insane writers and i will never stop looking up to you.
i. strawberries (the summer we were young)
When a strawberry is ripe, the seeds push out from the heart of the fruit, as if it's bursting from the inside out.
This is one of the few and only things you've learned by living in Seogwipo, where strawberry season comes like a supernova. The May sun, full and heavy, peels into summer, and the roadside farms open their doors, trying to catch stray vacationers from Jeju City on the other side of the island.
That being said, there are approximately two things to do here. One of them is farm. The other is pretend like you have a life, which is your childhood friend Yizhuo's favorite thing to do when she's back from university on summer break.
Today, this involved convincing her ritzy, too-good Seoul friends that they're missing out on this side of Jeju. (Missing out on what? You're not sure. Perhaps the chipped paint of the mural walls, or the endless flat-topped stretches of seagrass. Yizhuo isn't fooling anyone, but you've always liked stretching your legs out in the bed of her pick-up, even on the long drive to nowhere.)
Unsurprisingly, her friends quickly came to the same conclusion. Just one look at your local strawberry patch, with none of the glamour of the bloated tourist traps in the city, and they decided they'd rather spend the afternoon at the beach.
It was then, between the fragaria blooms, when you met Mingyu. He asked for your name, and the rest was history. Yizhuo and co. scattered like the grasping hands of an overripe dandelion and you learned that he was, one, the newly-graduated son of a pair of local farmers, and two, very, very attractive. Almost too much so, especially for a place like this.
Now he holds up a berry, a bright red murder between his fingers, and tells you to try it.
"You must be delusional if you think i'm taking food from a stranger," you laugh, perched on the fence bordering the field. It sprawls before you, melon stripes on the sunbaked ground.
"No, my name is Mingyu," he replies. "No idea who delusional is." His smile, all bright lip and snaggletooth, tears into the scarlet belly of a newly picked strawberry.
"We all know what happened to Persephone."
"Well, if the underworld was a strawberry patch, I wouldn't mind being stuck there for all of eternity."
"What're you picking all these for, anyway?" you ask, watching Mingyu struggle with his too-big straw hat between the vines. His woven basket bleeds over with little berries.
"Jam. I make it on the very first day of every summer."
"Why?"
"You ask a lot of questions for someone who trespassed on my farm. You're cute, but I won't let you off easy."
He laughs at how you balk, clearly red-handed. You're not sure how to tell him you don't think you were supposed to be here either. You don't do things like sit in the back of trucks, trespass, or talk to pretty farmer boys who take a fancy to you, but it's the summer before you graduate and you're not even sure how long you'll have to continue making bad decisions.
"Are you gonna take my first-born now?" you joke instead. The daylight runs down the rim of Mingyu's hat, trickles down his brow, and you wish you could pour the image of him into a jar and keep it forever.
"No, but I will invite you in for some fresh jam on toast. I baked a loaf this morning." and when you say nothing, he continues. "The strawberries are only good once a year. It's the best you'll ever have. Promise."
It's a whine and a half, and somehow you convince yourself this will be the last bad decision you'll make. You've been here long enough to know that good things don't come twice in Seogwipo, and he is unlikely to be an exception.
Yizhuo blows up your phone, you tie the gingham apron around Mingyu's tiny waist, and the basket turns to blood in the saucepan.
Mingyu is right. Love comes to you in that kitchen, high and red like the sun, and the jam never tastes as good as it does that summer.
ii. watermelon (hollowed out, like a magic trick)
"A good watermelon sounds like a heartbeat."
You watch Mingyu heave the fruit, small and striped, out of his grocery bag. It joins the array of egg sandwiches and banana milks you picked up from the store together earlier. (There should have been chocolate Pepero too, but you split the box on the walk).
You're on a picnic, sprawled out on the outcropping overlooking the water. The path up is basically right behind your house, but you had never cared to visit. It had always been the local makeout spot, a schlocky teen crawl for those with nothing better to do, and yet, with Mingyu stretched out beside you, it seems newer. More exciting.
You're still just friends, or at least that's what you told Yizhuo. But ever since you sat on Mingyu's kitchen counter and ate from his jam-covered spatula, you don't think you've gone a week without seeing him. It's been almost two months, which seems so long and yet not long enough—he makes it easy to be greedy.
"See?" He thumps the watermelon with the heel of his palm. "Try it."
You already went through this entire charade at the grocery store, right in front of all the local aunties, but you indulge him. There's little point to triple checking if it's still ripe, but you think he just likes hitting it.
"It sounds good," you say. "But how are we even gonna eat it? We don't have a knife."
"Watch this." Mingyu procures a coin from his pocket. "You didn't learn this in elementary school? I feel like everyone was doing it."
"Here?" you ask, incredulous.
"Yeah, here. I grew up here too, you know."
He holds the edge of the coin to the skin and slams his palm into it once more, so that it lodges itself into the rind, and begins dragging it around the fruit. You start to wonder if he bought the watermelon just to show you a party trick—not that you mind, though. The strain of his biceps peeks through his rolled up white tee, and you remember why he was able to stop you with just one look back when you first met.
"No way." The watermelon is so ripe, it bleeds around the incision. "I feel like I know everyone here. And I definitely would have remembered you."
"I was probably, like, two grades above you," he replies. "And my parents shipped me off to live with my cousins after elementary school. They said I should get out of Seogwipo and experience the real world."
"Good call. There's nothing here." You watch Mingyu spin the melon over to cut through the other side. The coin catches the sunlight, and it looks like gold. "I wish I left for university. The one here is so small."
"Really?" He pauses to show you his handiwork. The two melon halves roll over on their backs, their cut edge cruel and jagged. "Cool, huh?"
"Impressive," you say. "Honestly. I really didn't think that would work."
"I didn't either when I first saw someone do it. But I’ll try anything once," he replies, ripping open the packaging of the plastic spoon from the bag. "I can't believe you don't like it here."
"You do?"
"Yeah. A lot." He shoves the spoon in his mouth, and you watch the watermelon juice pool around his lips. "I missed home. The trees and the tall grass and the ocean. All the fruits. Everything. I learned to ride a bike, right down there by the water."
"Hm." He passes you the spoon. You don't want to hog it, so you carve out a piece bigger than you need. "Are you gonna work at the farm?"
"Maybe. Haven't decided yet," he says. "I think I want to be here, though. Maybe do something with food, but I want to be home."
"That's funny, because I think I’ve always wanted to live a different life. Or at least one somewhere else."
"You want to go to law school, right?"
"Yeah." Mingyu is right. The watermelon is all sugar, and you would almost feel guilty for eating it if it wasn't technically good for you. "I’ve always wanted to be a lawyer. It's something about the people watching, I think."
"That’s really cool," Mingyu says, mouth full but no less sincere. It's then that you notice your shoulders are almost touching, and your heart crawls back up to your mouth. "You know what you want. I admire that."
He makes it sound like a compliment, but you're sure it's a curse.
You think of your parents. There's a permanent wrinkle ironed into their foreheads, the paper crease of expectations and high standards. It's not that they didn't care, but their kind of care was a humbled sort, made heavy by a hard life. It didn't help that your big sister Seohyun went straight from Yonsei to work a big tech job in San Francisco and never once looked back.
But you can't blame any of them—wanting has always been a hereditary failing. Sometimes Yizhuo will catch you frowning at nothing, and then you remember that life isn't a performance and every day ends at the same time no matter how hard you work. But you don't know how to tell her that the only thing you can do sometimes is want, because otherwise you wouldn't really have much at all.
It seems like the exact opposite of how Mingyu lives—everything about him seems to pass like the seasons. Maybe that's why you can't seem to get enough of each other.
"Thank you. Really." You dig the spoon into your half of the melon. There isn't much left. "You're way too nice to me."
"It’s not hard to be," he laughs. "Maybe you're just too hard on yourself."
You're losing track of the distance between the two of you. You can almost feel the heat playing off his skin.
"Maybe."
It's then, under the veil of summer, where you meet Mingyu's gaze and, finally, things seem close to simple.
All you know are his eyes, heavy with sun, and then the slow, slow move of his lips against yours. He tastes like August, long and sweet, and for once you know what it's like to not only want, but to have, and to have again.
The ocean sings on the horizon, and the watermelon bellies weep.
iii. adzuki beans (or, the blood of a headless taiyaki)
Mingyu eats taiyaki headfirst because he says it hurts less.
"That makes no sense," you tell him, your pinkies linked. You never really liked holding hands, but yours fits so perfectly in Mingyu's and there's some girlish, childlike shine to it when you watch his finger search for yours after just a moment separated.
"What do you mean."
He breaks your gaze to eye a red bean taiyaki, like an unwilling predator sizing up their prey. It's the lamest, most embarrassing iteration of National Geographic you've ever seen, and yet you cannot find any fiber within yourself not deeply in love with the lion.
Fall is a forgiving place for your relationship to settle. You're now a senior at university and he's started his gap year. Gap implies he's in the middle of something, but in true Mingyu fashion, he leaves it up to fate, or chance, or something not nearly as kind (whim).
"Taiyaki isn't alive. And why would you want to pretend it is? Eating gummy bears would become an extinction event."
"It kind of is." He holds out the tail end of the taiyaki, the pastry almost explicitly flayed open, in front of you to eat. "Why does the Haribo bear have a face? Why do the gummy bears live in a gummy forest?"
"Great, so now I can’t even enjoy gummy bears without feeling like a serial killer?"
You dig your pointer into his shoulders, broad from all the time he spends on the farm. To think that his hands, big and weathered, were made to pick berries (and now wrap around your pinky finger) is bruising, if not ridiculously funny.
"It's a crime of passion. Gummy passion. Prosecute that."
He kisses your cheek and your heart almost squeezes into two.
The terrible thing about being with Mingyu is how seemingly endless his affection is. Now he's feeding you in public and buying the two of you matching socks (cat and dog, to be exact), although you'll admit it's a little charming, even if the neighbors do gossip.
He's sweet, too sweet, and his kisses stick to the back of your throat.
But you can't be fooled. There's an unsaid violence to the way Mingyu loves. (The meticulous spiral of the peel he carves when you ask for him to cut you an apple. The grind, decisive and cruel, of a knife against a cutting board. A pair of canines against your neck, your jaw.)
Even now, he bites the head off another unwitting taiyaki before stuffing it back in the bag.
"We're still splitsing, right?" he says, with perhaps 1% of his mouth available for speaking and the other 99% murder machine.
Splits, he always says before you share food. You never had the heart to tell him that it's in the same family as mines or sharesies or takebacks—silly childhood relics, ones that no one uses anymore because they don't mean anything.
This time, you don't hear him because you're thinking about the law school fair you went to before Mingyu picked you up. The future is so close, it scares you. A year from now, what ground would you be standing on? Would it smell like this—the peat, the thread-spool fields, the balm of the ocean? Would you still have Mingyu's finger wrapped round yours?
"Have you decided if you're staying at the farm?" you ask.
"Not really." He uses the back of his hand to wipe off his chin. "If my sister decides to take over, I’m actually kinda thinking of going to pastry school instead of getting a masters."
Mingyu had been toying with the idea for some time after you had talked about it on the outlook. It started off as a joke (September; a galette), then a what if (October; green tea mochi), and now it sits at a kinda.
"Kinda?"
The word gathers speed in the pachinko machine of your mind. You never liked being a kinda person. For Mingyu, it seems like a luxury of a word, but for you, it's really just another thing to hide behind. Kinda talented, kinda ambitious, kinda just there. You're always one foot in, one foot out of something better.
"Yeah, kinda. Why?"
"I dunno. What if we both end up leaving?"
"Maybe. You still want to, right?"
You would be lying if you said you didn't—it's what you always wanted. Seogwipo has been a sun-rot, too-small crutch for you, but you would also be lying if you said you weren't terrified that you'd eventually come back, limping like some doomed Icarus, unable to truly make it in the real world.
Then you think of the pockmarked farmland beside your home, lacy with the fall harvest. Even now, you can trace the endless blue of the coastline all the way there, cut through all the maybes and just let the sound of the ocean fold you into sleep like you were a child again. You wonder if Seohyun, all the way on the other side of the world, ever misses it.
"I’m not sure," you say, because, as much as you don't like it, it's the only answer you have.
"It's ok. You'll figure it out. You always do." He squeezes your cheeks together between his thumb and index, laughing at how they pillow out underneath his fingers. "Screw pastry school. I could come with you. Who else would keep you fed?"
Mingyu's complete and unfounded belief in you makes you feel something close to betrayal. How could he say any of that? With what proof? Only someone like Mingyu would be able to hold the wrinkled fruit of your unremarkable life between his palms and see something better than that. Maybe it's because he grew up on a farm. Either that, or he already cares for you too much, too painfully.
Secrets are easy to keep when they look like yours. At least here, in the pit of your stomach, you can keep count, take attendance of them, all your tittering, small anxieties. Some days it feels like your ribs are pressing out, but it's better than cutting everything loose to spill out over what little you do have control over.
You can handle a little pressure. You have to.
What concerns you is the hand Mingyu's got across your chest. With one look, he just might gut you. A twist of the heart-knife, and all those carefully wound insides carved out in an instant—maybe he'd pity you, but worse than that, he'd likely be disappointed.
For you, expectation has always stood taller than shame, and the idea that he sees something past you makes you want to run away.
"I could be a house husband," he says as easily as ever. "You'll be off saving the world, arguing with whoever, and I'll be there to run you a bath afterwards."
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," you reply, binding up the strange, hollow feeling in your stomach with a laugh.
There's a scared little girl hiding inside you, and whether Mingyu sees her or not hurts the same. A spade is a spade. You can only pretend so long.
You look at the taiyaki floating in their wax paper bag, blinded and wrought open by the same grin that now peels you down, and you're not hungry anymore.
iv. winter pears (rotten, outside your parents' house)
Mingyu's family loves Christmas.
You think it's because of the pear trees they have in the front yard. They stand bravely before the house, all emerald ash and wisdom in the December freeze. Run your palms over the knobs and it's like you can see into a sleepy visage of simpler days past. (Below its heart, carved: 1982, the year the farm was bought. Along the tangle of the roots: gyu waz here, in an unsure, childish scrawl.)  
Winter comes to the countryside crawling on its hands and knees. On days it doesn't snow, there's a mist, boggy and clingy. You've come to realize the cold is more of a threat than a promise, and so the pear trees still bear fruit; the silvery branches hang heavy, faithful.
The first day of December, Mingyu's parents had tasked the two of you with decorating the farmhouse, a duty you took very seriously. You wrapped Mingyu up in string lights and watched him blink in and out like your own personal firefly.
It wasn't until you watched the rafters, the barn doors, the joyous vault of the ceiling all glow, like a spectacular firework, that you finally started to understand why Mingyu was so into the holidays.
It was in the yellow blush of the string lights that you had your first pear from the tree, which Mingyu insisted was a holiday tradition. We make poached pears, he said, mid-bite. You simmer the pear in syrup until it gets so soft, you can cut into it with a fork. Just like butter.
That same night, he kissed you, mouth hot and trembling and tasting of honey, and pressed you against the bark so hard, you could feel the grit of its veins against your skin.
You think December became your favorite month, and pears your favorite fruit.
So much so, that for the entire month, you try to put away your worries about law school applications to celebrate with Mingyu and his family.
You learn his mom makes the best hot chocolate (a cinnamon stick and a dogged devotion to the whisk), and that Mingyu has no clue on God's green earth how to ice skate. (He careens right into your chest the first time. You spend the next hour with him attached to you like a backpack—he manages to find the most impractical ways to do anything, which you somehow admire the most). On Sundays, Yizhuo ditches her Seoul friends and instead accompanies you to the mall two towns over, where she watches you compare different ties and watches and collagen creams as you decide on gifts for his family. (Lilac is so last year, she'd say, stirring the straw of a watered-down milk tea.)
It's not until the weekend before Christmas when you realize just how serious things have gotten. Your feet understand the meander of the dirt path to the farmhouse, your bones the scent of the yellow-skinned apple, the faded wildflowers. Your palms crave the plush of the rug they have in front of the fireplace. Hell, you can't even eat soondubu without thinking of the kind Mingyu's dad makes, with extra anchovies and green onion.
You don't think about what this means. There are ten days left in December and love poured from a full cup never seems to run out.
"Please let me carry some of those," Mingyu wheedles. "Oh my god. I'm like the worst boyfriend in the world."
"No, you are not." you make your way up to his doorstep, taking care to one-two step over the stray roots of one of the pear trees. It's second nature to you by now. "The moment I hand you a box, you are gonna start trying to figure out what it is."
He harumphs and plucks the big one off the top anyway, the one he knows you can't reach. "I didn't even know you were getting us gifts. You didn't have to."
"It's the least I could do. Who shows up to a holiday dinner emptyhanded?" You stop at the front door. "And stop shaking it," you laugh, using the tip of your boot to nudge his shin.
"Okay. Okay," he says, saccharine, adoring, before grabbing the doorknob. "Ready? Are you nervous? You shouldn't be nervous, right? It's not fancy or anything, if you were worried about that."
And that's the thing that wedges itself between your ribs. Mingyu and his whole family are like this. They love and worry and love again; it presses deep into you, fills you, and overflows.
So here you are, standing in your nicest dress and balancing a stack of gifts you hope will amount to something, never enough but something, to repay the people who you feel have loved you more than you deserve. It's all you really have. You do your best, and yet you know when that door opens, it'll all be washed away in a high-tide flurry of hugs and laughter and the familiar press of Bobpul's wet nose against your leg. They're just those kinds of people—they would be just as happy if you didn't bring anything at all, and somehow that makes you feel even more guilty.
"No, no," you wave him off. "I’m fine. Excited."
When Mingyu opens the door, everything goes just as you expected. His sister takes your coat, your gifts are whisked away to the tree (Aji has already figured out which one is his), and his parents descend upon you in a choking swell of warmth and charity.
We baked some fresh bread for your parents (—Thank you so much, but you really shouldn't have.). You look so beautiful in that color (—No, no, you flatter me too much.). Mingyu better be taking good care of you (—He is. He really, really is.).
The kitchen is gauzy with cinnamon, anise. They must be making their famous poached pears, which Mingyu remarks on, just like clockwork.
Dinner passes the same way. It bubbles over with affection, and you feel swallowed by an impossible yearning. This—a full table and a hand to hold underneath it—did you deserve this? And could you keep it?
For an instant, you picture yourself, years later, at this same seat. Mingyu would be fussing over the rice cakes, his apron still gingham because it reminds him of the day you two met. His parents, grayer but no less happy, bickering over the shade of tinsel on the tree. And the dogs, coiled at your feet like they are now. The vision laps at your bones like you're a raft in a storm.
You're pulled back into the moment when Mingyu squeezes your hand, grounding and insistent. "Mom asked how school was going. I told her I think you're basically the smartest person I know, and I’m pretty sure you're getting into whatever law school you want."
Mingyu's parents laugh, and they cut through their pears.
"Oh, sorry," you say. "Um."
Clink. Knife meets flesh, meets porcelain. Your cheeks are hot. You wanted to talk about anything other than yourself tonight. Clink.
"The top programs are a reach, but it'd be nice." clink. "I just want to get in somewhere."
"They’re all so far away," Mingyu's mom remarks. "So grown up. Any school will be lucky to have you. You'll get into all of them."
Clink.
"Or maybe you can stay here." You watch the prongs of Mingyu's father's fork disappear into the pear. "Keep us old folk company."
"No, no, I think Mingyu should take notes and get off his lazy ass," his sister says, teasing. "Going back to the city will be good for him."
"So you can, what, burn down the kitchen again?" Mingyu grumbles, and the whole table seems to boil over with laughter.
"We’re kidding," his mom tells you. "No matter where you go, I’m sure you'll do great. We can even throw you a party at the end of the year. For graduating."
Clink. Clink.
There's a horrible uneasiness writhing around in your stomach. It's pear and syrup and clove and a blackness, an anxious, selfish one that sucks up all the generosity of the evening and turns it into shame.
Mingyu's mom is talking about throwing you a graduation party, something you didn't even think to do for yourself, and here you are, thinking about the shaking moment you open your rejection letters and the lonely path you'll draw on your way back home.
It's ok. They missed out, Mingyu would say, pouring you a consolation drink, and then it would be over. You'd go home and sit on your bed and the trifold piece of paper would go round and round your head like it was in a washing machine.
Your heart, an inventory of tasks and goals and tally marks. Things you've taken and things you've owed. It's a soft, boneless excuse. Be grateful. Give them that, at least.
Clink.
Dessert ends before you can tell his family not to get their hopes up. Mingyu's mom sends you off with your loaf of bread and a kiss on the cheek, and the moment is gone.
"Gyu," you call out on the steps in front of the house.
There are words at the seam of your lips. You want to tell him you're sorry for worrying so much. For making the whole dinner about you and then very possibly having nothing to show for it when it matters. For the heaviness in your chest. Your cowardice. But none of it comes out.
Instead you watch Mingyu pull at the leaves of a pear tree, watching the frost-filigree they get at the end of the season. He looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, as if he's on the hazy cover of a magazine. His eyes bend so wonderfully at the corners when he looks at you, and it breaks your heart.
"You had fun, right?" he asks. "My parents like you a lot, you know. I think they really do."
But that's the problem, you want to say. You all do, and I have no idea why.
Some of the pears are beginning to rot now. You watch one drop off the vine, and it caves to the pavement like it was made of nothing at all.
v. wild barley (grows like weeds)
In March, you play house.
Your parents leave on a two week trip to see relatives, and Mingyu takes it upon himself to make sure you survive.
It's a kind, blinding charade.
(7 am, breakfast. You usually don't even eat breakfast, but you wake up to doenjang and a smile, one that presses itself to yours until you're wearing it on the long walk to school.)
(4 pm, the stretch between lunch and dinner. You're muddling through another useless club meeting when Mingyu sends you a picture of him in your mom's apron, making kimchi. Kiss the chef, he texts you. You promise to, over and over and over.)
It's good until it isn't.
That isn't to say that it's Mingyu's fault. In fact, it's never really Mingyu's fault, and that's the worst thing about your relationship. Sometimes you wish he was worse just so there was someone else to blame.
(1 am, a fridge-cold glass of water and a hand on the column of your spine. Can't sleep? He asks. Just had a weird dream, you say.
It's a lie. You're a liar.
You miss your parents and the first wave of acceptance letters comes out in two days. You're not like him. Sleep has never been a cure for the exhaustion you're feeling, and you have no way of telling him that however warm the bed is won't fix that.)
It's on a Thursday afternoon when you open your mailbox and see the tiny, thin envelope that you've been expecting for the past week. You don't need to open it to know what it says, and yet you do it anyway.
The sun is white, a ghost in the spring sky. The ocean bleeds into the overcast, the curly barley stands tall around your feet, and you let the worst letter you've gotten in your life fall upon your shoulders, word by terrible word.
Then you close it, pinching the seam shut, and draw up your brave face. Nothing left to do but be brave. You're convinced you've used up all the sadness in your relationship—spend in pennies and the well still runs dry. Mingyu will cup your cheek and call you darling, pouring into your emptying basin, holey and broken.
You see him now through the kitchen window, Venus in his clamshell of a kitchen. Galbijjim day, he had said this morning. Now, he waves at you, glittery with recognition.
Your throat feels like crumpled paper.
Mingyu smiles at you, hazy through the glass. Your cheeks hurt and your mouth is paper mache, but you smile back anyway.
///
The letters come one after another.
You know what the envelopes hold and yet you keep opening them. The little folder you keep stashed in your bottom drawer gets fatter every passing day because you can't help but revisit your misery, almost as if you need to remind yourself it exists.
Mingyu is none the wiser. Today he decides he'll put off pastry school for one more year. "It doesn't feel like the right time," he says, rolling a log of burdock kimbap up. "You know what I mean?"
No, you don't. You never really do.
You do know, however, that it would feel really fucking bad that, come the end of the year, to have nothing. All your friends would be going somewhere—even Yizhuo opened her acceptance to an MFA program in Shanghai yesterday—and you would be here, still, feet firmly planted in the muddy Jeju dirt like they always had been.
"Hey, don't look so disappointed." he jokes. "Don't tell me you're already trying to get rid of me."
You're not, you really aren't. But part of you wonders if it's just a race to the bottom. If you got rid of him before he decided he wanted to get rid of you, maybe it would hurt a lot less. One less letter for the folder.
"Never. But imagine if you picked up a French accent at pastry school. Then I’d consider it. Maybe."
You watch his knife rock back and forth on the cutting board as he cuts the kimbap.
"Some for you. And more for me," he says, in what you can only describe as someone attempting to speak French when they've never heard it before. "Unless you want more, mon cherie."
He brings the plates to the table, his grin nothing short of dizzying.
"I’m irresistible, huh? Still wanna leave me now?"
"You're gonna have to try a little harder than that, I think."
The words roll off your tongue, easily, traitorously.
You watch the kimbap disappear off of Mingyu's plate.
Going, going, gone.
///
Seogwipo is always dark at night, only kept alive by the glow of the moonlit sea.
You can't sleep. Again. And so you sit out on the steps in front of your house, letting the twilight wrap around you like a blanket.
You got your last letter back earlier today. You held your breath and tore it open like you would a birthday card with money in it.
Waitlisted.
It was surely better than a rejection, but some naive, child-eyed part of you thought that if you had just closed your eyes and hoped hard enough, things would work out the way you had planned. Tragically, it wasn't enough this time. You wanted and wanted and you thought maybe that would mean you'd come close to deserving it.
Your parents called today. After managing to sideline the issue of basically the rest of your entire life, they had finally cut through your sad little charade. No good news yet, huh?
No, but—
It was always like that with you. No, but it's not as bad as you think. No, but give me a chance. No, but I’m trying. I've been trying.
You wish things didn't come out of you so complicated. That you could be like Seohyun, who could go through school with her eyes closed and still graduate at the top of her class. Instead, you parade around your little failures, trying to convince people it all could mean something only if they squinted. See? It isn't so bad.
You think you're past the point of crying about it. Your stomach hurts, you're cold, and most of all, you just want to go back to bed. Plus, although Mingyu sleeps like a log, you think he's developed a sixth sense for whenever you get up too early.
Time to be brave, you've been telling yourself, although you don't know who you're pretending for anymore.
So you nudge the front door open—it's so old, it wails if you come at it with any more force—and, to your surprise, see the light above the kitchen sink turned on.
It's not very bright, but it's enough to make out Mingyu's broad silhouette, back turned to you as he makes a cup of tea. He's humming one of his made-up songs.
"Mingyu?"
"There you are," he says, turning around. "Just came out to check on you. And make you some tea."
The kettle whizzes. Your gut twists.
You still haven't said anything to Mingyu. To manage your own disappointment was one thing—you don't think you could handle another person's. And yet when he stands there, Pororo mug between his huge hands, you feel as if you are holding a knife, big and guilty and bloody.
"I-I'm fine, Gyu. Honest." you watch his expression flicker, unreadable in the persimmon lamplight. "Sorry you had to come out. It's chilly out here."
"You know, you can tell me what's going on. I won't judge."
No, no, no. This is the last conversation you wanted to have, with the last person you wanted to have it with.
You feel feverish. You think your hands are shaking.
"Mingyu, I swear—"
"Whatever it is, we can fix it. I know we can."
That almost makes you want to laugh if you didn't want to cry so bad. Of fucking course he would say that. Mingyu, who treats life like it's the watermelon trick he showed you on the outlook, wants to put a bandaid on this whole thing, as if that could come close to fixing it.
He'd tell you to curl up on the couch with a bad movie while he orders takeout. Kiss you on the top of the head. It's ok, baby. Just another bad day for the person who has the worst luck in the world. Another lump of problems for him to try and make better. If he isn't sick of you now, he sure would be soon enough.
"It’s okay," you say, steeling your voice. "It really isn't a big deal. Let's just go back to sleep."
You try to walk away, but the hardness in Mingyu's eyes roots you down to the tile.
"Stop doing that."
"Doing what?"
"Pushing me away," he swallows. "Like you always do. I know something's going on."
"I’m not, i just—"
"You just what? You can't help it?"
"No, I—"
"Because you like to know that you can? That you can say whatever and then watch me come back?" A fragmented, heavy silence thrums between you. He's looking at you like he's daring you to say something, anything. His gaze is black. "What am I good for if you can't tell me anything?"
There's that familiar, stinging pressure behind your eyes. You think you're crying, but you're not sure. Maybe you've been crying this whole time.
"Fine," you bite. Your blood feels like hot metal. "You really wanna know? I didn't get into law school. There. Happy now?"
Mingyu looks stung.
"W-why didn't you tell me?"
Because I thought you would stop loving me. I thought you would have finally had enough.
"Because it's not all about you, Mingyu."
The words, selfish and damning, burn your tongue. Mingyu is right. This is what you always do. You fuck up and then make everyone else hurt for it.
"I'm sorry," Mingyu says. His voice doesn't sound like his. Instead, the words seem to hang in the air, trembling and holding their breath, waiting for an apology you can't give yet. "I shouldn't have—"
"It's ok." You swallow hard, and it hurts. "Let's just go back to bed."
It's getting colder and colder. You think there's a little hole in your sock, right above the cat's whiskers.
Mingyu doesn't reach for you as he passes to get to the hallway. Maybe he doesn't know how to anymore.
The Pororo cup is left abandoned on the counter. You walk over and read the label on the tea bag—barley, because you have class tomorrow morning.
You pick it up, let the ceramic buzz between your hands with whatever warmth it has left, and hold it to your lips.
It's cold now, but all you can think to do is drink it. Erase all the evidence that tonight ever happened, and maybe it'll be nothing more than a bad dream in the morning.
There's honey at the bottom of the cup. It sears the back of your throat, but you drink until there's nothing left.
vi. the peach blossoms (without fail, bloom every August. I miss you.)
You broke up the next day.
Even now, you remember what happened. You had woken up early that morning to make your own breakfast because you couldn't allow Mingyu to give you any more of himself. Your hands could only hold, shatter, so much.
"Mingyu, I think we should...." You looked at the zigzags of jam on your toast, angry and uneven. "I think we should stop seeing each other. For now," you had added, as if that made anything better at all.
Somehow that seemed more merciful at the time. Really, you think it just showed your cowardice. If you were going to break his heart, you might as well have gone all the way the first time.
Maybe it was a good thing that Mingyu saw right through you. He always did.
"So that's it, huh? You're just gonna give up on us?"
"No, I just...need some time."
"How long?" he asked. "Be honest with me. Because you know I’ll wait."
"I don't know." You couldn't meet his gaze. His eyes reached and reached over that kitchen table and you denied him even that.
"Don't you always know?" he asked, pitifully, desperately. "Don't you want this to work?"
And you did. In fact, you don't think you had ever wanted anything more, and it was that that scared you. You had already lost law school—you couldn't let the only other thing in your life let you go. So you pulled the trigger first.
"We should just end things. I'm sorry. I can't give you what you need."
He packed his bag within the hour, and you think everything, from then on, froze inside you. You didn't move from your seat until your parents came home from the airport later that day and asked why there were two plates of toast still on the table.
You think you knew, someplace, inevitably, this would happen. You, who only knew hunger, had reached deep inside Mingyu and rooted out a love you didn't think you were worthy of having. And yet you still ate from the vine, bite after guilty bite, until you couldn't take any more. The only time he asked you for anything at all, you couldn't give it to him—such was the irony of your relationship.
Maybe you were doomed the moment the first strawberry hit your tongue, just like you had said, all that time ago.
About a month later, you got another letter in the mail. Chungnam National University Law School, it read. This one was fat, in one of those brown envelopes lined with bubble wrap. Somehow, miraculously, that position on the waitlist had turned into an acceptance. You held the package to your chest and cried, loud and with abandon, as if taking a deep breath after almost drowning.
Ironically, the first person you wanted to tell was Mingyu. But the good news you needed to save your relationship came too little, too late. Perhaps that meant it had no legs to stand on in the first place, but that didn't stop you from missing it. Instead, you told Yizhuo, and she drove you to Jeju City and treated you to dinner. "You should just call him," she had said. "Hey, don't look at me like that. He'd probably pick up on the first ring."
The city is swathed in August's crimson summer—peach season. The narrow streets are lined with peach trees, the fruits glowing like fat drops of sunlight. All you do these days is plan for your eventual move to Daejeon and the start of a life that seems newer and shinier than your own. But surrounded by the cicada song, the velvet treeline, the rain-soaked asphalt, somehow you think you're going to miss Seogwipo more than you think.
(Fickle, fickle heart. You always needed things to be taken away to really be able to appreciate them. Somehow, all that wanting had boiled down to something more satisfying, more filling.)
You wonder how Mingyu is. Now that you think about it, he seems just as much a part of Seogwipo as the farm he lives on. It was only last summer when you had first met him in the field, set on fire by the strawberry harvest. You think about him now, peddling around that ridiculous wicker basket to make jam. Maybe talking to another pretty girl, someone as naive, cruel as you had been.
Not long ago, you considered calling him to apologize, but that'd just be another thing to be selfish about. A little time and some warm weather, and I’m calling to finally wash my hands of you. That's what it would sound like, no matter what you said. Still, it didn't stop you from thinking of him, every flower, every season.
"You know, I always wanted to grow peach trees. But I think we've always been a pear kind of family."
Mingyu. If a voice could cut through air, it'd be his.
You whip around, half-believing you're hearing things. Certainly that would be easier, but you're learning that there are some things you can't run from.
And like a picture, Mingyu stands tall, golden, framed by the peach blossoms. Not a thing about him has changed. Not even the way he looks at you.
"Mingyu," you breathe. Unfortunately, none of the times you replayed your last conversation with him help you come up with something to say, because in none of them did you anticipate him coming back. "W-what are you doing here?"
"I live here, silly."
"No way," you reply, scrambling. "Crazy, because I live here too."
You both laugh nervously, a silly, bubbly thing, but you feel like you're going to throw up. It's only now that you realize you're kind of on the walk to his place. Seogwipo has never had places to hide.
"I...um." You try and disentangle the guilt from the nostalgia from the scent of the peaches and the warmth on his face. They all look the same. You missed him. "I got into law school. In Daejeon."
"I heard," he says. "Not surprised at all. I always knew you would."
"Thank you. I mean it." The cicadas buzz around you, as if they know they have an important silence to fill. "You're staying in town, right?"
"Actually, I decided to apply to culinary school. It finally felt right, you know? I'm leaving at the end of the summer, but it's just in Jeju City. I couldn't leave the island."
"Thank goodness. I don't know if you could tell, but I kind of always hoped you would. I don't think I’ve ever eaten better food." Your voice wobbles, but it gets there. "You'll do amazing."
Then time stretches and forces you to recognize, reckon with, the moment you're in. You wonder if he feels the same way you do—bruised, overripe. If there's still a space in his heart for you.
Deep breath. Life only gives you so many chances.
"Mingyu, I’m sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't make us work. You deserved better." Saying it feels like peeling the skin of your heart back. There's still a palpable distance between the two of you—you think that had always been there—but it feels more comfortable in a way it never did before.
"Don’t apologize," he says, easily, as he always does. Everything seems to flow off him like water, and you think that's the part of him you loved the most because it was the one thing you couldn't touch. "We loved each other. I think that much was true."
A jasmine breeze curls through the trees, sending the blossoms fluttering around you like ink in water. The very first time you met Mingyu, you thought the image of him, haloed with the sunset, was the one you wanted to keep forever. And yet, somehow, you don't think you'll ever forget the way he looks right now.
"Will you ever come back to Seogwipo?" you ask.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing—you were always the one who wanted to get out of here." He grins, ear to ear. "Of course I'm coming back. There's nowhere I'd rather be."
"Yeah. I think I know what you mean."
The sea, the clay dirt, Mingyu. Even yourself, clumsy and care-worn. You think, somewhere along the line, you forgot how to love. But you're learning—one step at a time.
"Friends," you say. "Let's be friends. If you'll let me."
"Thought you would never ask. Gladly. Always." The space between you seizes, like it's holding in a breath. Maybe one day, you'll think of closing it once more, but you like where you stand now. You can admire him better from a distance, without your fingerprints all over him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, something he does before he gets ready to leave. But before he does—"I'll see you soon, okay? You better come back. Promise me."
For the first time, you see the honesty in his eyes and you really, truly believe him.
"Promise."
The Seogwipo sun is high and red in the sky when you wave Mingyu goodbye. It feels like you're coming to an end of a long summer, but you're not afraid. You watch the wind dance through the peach blossoms, their branches never searching, never wanting, and you finally feel as if you've arrived home.
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angelltheninth · 9 months
Note
Could I request getting into an argument with Hobie Brown or Peter b parker headcanons?
Oh angst! There's plenty of angst to be had in Spiderverse.
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown x Reader
Tags: slight fluff, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, arguments, cuddling, makin up and making out
A/N: Have to use the crying gif cause Peter is such a drama queen.
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Peter hates getting into any kind of fight with you, over pretty much everything. It's not that he's not just as stubborn as you are but he knows how ugly these can get, so would very much like it if instead of screaming your heads off at each other, you give each other a little space to process things.
"No, this isn't a break up, god why did you think of that first? Do you want to break up? Okay, I thought not. Then there's no problem in giving me space is there? I'm not moving out, I'm gonna sleep on the couch! If I didn't know any better I'd say you really do want to get rid of me."
Sleeping on the couch is not as easy as it once was. You see him stretching, groaning as he pops his back but he doesn't complain about it, not a sound. He will give you your space as you will give him his. There needs to be time for you to cool off. The worst part are the awkward goodbyes you sill share, with the both of you stealing apologetic glances at each other but neither making the first move.
"I'm going out on patrol for the night. No, you go to bed, I'll get home when I get home. As I always do. Don't look so worried, I'll be thinking about this anyway, I don't need your puppy dog eyes too. Want me to pick up anything while I'm out? Got it. I'll be sure to do that. Well... see you in a few hours I guess."
He does come home late, with flowers for you that he sets beside your bed before he crawls in. You're still pretending to be asleep but you feel his arms pull you close to him from behind, his lips ticking your neck as he mumbles he still loves you and gives you another squeeze before the bed creaks right before he leaves. You don't let him, you wrap your hands around his forearms before he has the chance to let go and tell him to stay.
"Sure? I think we're both too tired to talk about this now. Yeah, in the morning. Do the flowers bother you? I can move them. Haha, I got everything else too don't worry. But when I saw them I couldn't help but think of you so here they are. Cause they were beautiful and made me smile, just like you."
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Hobie gets very heated when he gets into a fight with you. Not in the terms that he's loud or lashes out a lot but he can stay angry for a very long time, unable to let go. He wants what's best for you, how do you not realize that? If he takes any risks its because of you and for your safety.
"Oh so now its my fault right? Right, right blame it all on me why don't you? I'm being unfair? You just told me to stop putting myself at risk. I'm sorry sweetheart but that's not how being a hero works. Well its a stupid idea. No, I'm not calling you stupid I... forget it, no use talking this out."
Going out begins to get even more frequent for him. You get the feeling that he's doing everything he can to avoid talking to you about this problem. The good thing is that he's not getting hurt, yet. But he can't avoid you forever, he knows it too, he knows that sooner or latter he will have to talk to you. It drives you both crazy when you're in the same bed still, but back turned, in complete silence.
"How long do you think you can keep this up? Yes, you. I haven't been avoid- ah, I guess I have, a little. Look, I... I feel like if we don't talk about this, it's not go away on its own. Might take longer but... I'm being dumb? Well what about you? I thought you wanted your space? Too much of it huh? I can fix that. I'm not distracting you, I miss you."
The moment he gets his hands on your body, his lips on yours he can't get enough. It's like he's never kissed you before, like he's feeling these things for the first time, you arching against him, you sighing against his mouth and moaning his name as you try to get him as close as possible without seeming too needy for him. He missed you too, a whole lot and he's not holding back when it comes to showing you just how much.
"This isn't exactly an apology but I think it's a nice start don't you? Don't give me that look now, you like it too. I can make it better, if you want. Let's say, for every thing we manage to hash out we give each other a kiss. A little reward for us working out our issues."
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Eddie and Max get out of the hospital at the same time. Eddie's scars are tender. It hurts to move sometimes. But he's got ointment, and pain pills, he'll be fine.
Max can see, not super well, but it improves a little every week. Her arms are mostly healed, she still has slings for when they ache. Her legs are healed, technically, the bones anyway. But she's got braces and isn't supposed to walk on them yet. She can stand on them for a couple minutes off and on to stretch them. But she goes to physical therapy multiple times a week.
Her mom had been rightly worried and upset and freaked out, because they couldn't afford a van for her wheelchair. And yeah she can get out of her wheelchair if she needs too, but its easier on her body if she can just, roll in and out of a vehicle.
So eddie tells her mom he can drive her around. All they need is a ramp for his van. He already had straps in the back to secure things, they use them on Gareth's drum set. The relief on Max's mothers face and the way she hugs him genlty is... too much. He just smiles and looks away, nodding when she thanks him again.
He drives her to therapy twice and decides that her trailer needs a ramp too. A good one. He can't help lift Max's chair, so he just has to watch Max's mom struggle to get her up the stairs.
So he goes home and starts drawing. He can see it in his head, the way he wants it, bigger than it probably needs to be, but he wants the slope to be low impact, because once her arms get strong enough to move herself, he wants her to able to do that. He just... doesn't know how he's gonna manage to DO all this.
But he goes to the hardware store one day, with Wayne, because Wayne knows things, about everything. And Wayne helps him pick out the wood, they estimate the numbers and then buy a little more, just in case. And they load it up, and drop it by Max's house. And the next day, Wayne goes to work, and so does Eddie.
He ties his hair back, shoves himself into a pair of Wayne's old cover alls, and walks slowly over to Max's, she doesn't have therapy today, or the next two. Eddie doesn't think he can get it done by then, but he's gonna fucking get it started if it kills him. He pops a pain pill into his mouth, takes a swig from the water he'd brought with him, takes a look at the drawing he'd made, and gets to work.
Max rolls onto her small porch steps about an hour into Eddie's work, he's been measuring and cutting and just separating things into piles. She says his name softly and he looks up, squinting, he's covered in sweat. And his body fucking hurts. He wipes at his forehead with his arm and limps over to Max. She's holding out a new glass of water.
"What are you doing?" Her voice is ...tight. Like she knows exactly what he's doing. Eddie chugs the water and hands her back the empty glass.
"What? You don't like suprises?" He huffs, smiles with the tease. She smiles back, her bottom lip trembling slightly. He rests his hand gently on her knee, gives it a squeeze, then heads back to where he was,
"Go inside. I can't keep an eye you when I'm working and if you roll off that teeny tiny porch you're mom'll kill me." She snorts, but does as he says. A few minutes later Eddie hears the door slap shut again, and looks up to see another glass of water sitting on the porch. He shouts a thank you, and keeps working.
It only takes another hour before he almost has a breakdown. His skin hurts, he's hot, his hands are shaking. He's downed three more glasses of water. His last thank you had been so strangled that Max had just looked at him and then disappeared into the house.
He's sitting on the porch steps now, hands shaking in his lap, tears falling down his face. He can't take another pill yet. He's got two hours. He takes a few very deep breathes, about to steel himself and get back to work, his hands are on his knees, about to push himself up, when he hears the car.
He looks up, and Steve's car is parking at his house. His hands fall from his knees. But its not just Steve in the car, Nancy and Robin are there too. All of them in old looking jeans, and ratty looking shirts.
Robin's are covered in paint. Eddie's breathing goes shakey as Steve pats Robin's shoulder and points at Eddie. Robin nods and heads for him, doing a weird little run, Eddie can't help but smile. Steve and Nancy are grabbing things from Steve's trunk, Eddie doesn't see what things, before Robin is filling his vision, dropping to her knees in front of him looking concerned as her hands gently cradle his face.
"Hey you. You okay? Max said you might need some help." Robin breaths it out like a sigh, like she'd been holding in her worry. Eddie bites his lip to stop it from trembling anymore and nods. She nods back with a smile.
"Okay cool. Well, help is here. Help being, Steve and Nancy." She nods to them.
"And I'm gonna sit with you until you're feeling a bit better okay? Then you can jump back in." Steve clears his throat aggressively as he walks past her at that. Robin's face scrunches.
"Maybe." She tells Eddie. Steve was ... was he mad? He wasn't looking at Eddie, just helping Nancy get the tools they'd need out of the box they brought. Eddie had some tools, but just for one person. Robin rubs his knee gently and squishes in next to him on the stairs.
"So you got baby sitting duty?" He asks her, his side pressing into her as almost all the fight to stay upright leaves his body. She's steady beside him, holds him up easily, her hand curling around his bicep for extra support.
"Well, Nancy and Steve thought it was probably best that I don't handle tools. So yeah, but hey, babysitting you's not so bad. I mean you're a GREAT conversationalist." Robin smiles brightly at him, watches him try to smile back and then grimace.
"You okay?" Her voice is concerned now, and that apparently draws Steve's attention. He's at Eddie side in the time it takes for Eddie to nod, his face still scrunched in pain. Steve kneels, looks up at him.
"Where are your pills?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head.
"Hour an a half." Eddie grunts out. Steve's head falls and then it's shaking, he sighs, and fuck, he sounds disappointed. And he's glaring at Eddie when he finally looks back up.
"What the fuck were you thinking? Doing this by yourself, with no one here but Max to help you if you got hurt. Did you think about that?" Steve's voice gets louder as he talks.
"Steve." Robin's voice, a warning.
"No. Robin. This is... you could've gotten hurt Eddie." He huffs it, his voice is full of frustration, and anger. Eddie just stares at the ground, tries to breathe around the lump in his throat.
"I know I fucked up alright? Can we spare the lecture?" He grits, his voice is wobbly. Steve doesn't hear it, just huffs again and stands, Eddie sees his hands hit his hips and braces for whatever he's gonna say next.
"What was Max supposed to do if you got hurt? Huh? She can't help you dude! And Wayne's at work! You're all alone out here, when you shouldn't even be out here in the first place!" Steve is openly yelling now, both Nancy and Robin saying his name as Eddie's shoulders shake. Eddie clears his throat roughly, pushing the tight feeling away so he can speak. He shoves himself to his feet with a wince, pain shooting through his body.
"You think I dont know that? I know how fucking alone I am. Thank you. Steve." His hand clenches at the pain in his side, a whimper rips out of his throat, tears burn his eyes and fall. Steve looks startled, then concerned, reaches out to steady him, Eddie slaps his hand away, hard.
"Don't fuckin touch me." He growls, wipes at his eyes with shakey hands and starts walking to his trailer. His foot hits a dip in the ground and he stumbles, Robin catches him, just enough to keep him on his feet. She lets go immediately as he shrugs her touch off gently, and keeps walking.
"FUCK!" he yells it, to no one really, just built up frustration clawing its way out of him. He stomps, carefully, up his own trailer steps, and lets the door slam shut behind him.
Max's trailer door squeaks open, and the three of them turn to see her looking at Steve.
"That was harsh. I told you to come help him, not fucking yell at him and make it worse." The look in her eyes could cut glass. Steve droops under her scrutiny, his hands moving to cover his face.
"Fuck. I know." He groans. He looks up, and over to Robin.
"What's wrong with me?" He sighs, his head hanging again. Robin gives him a sympathetic smile, walks closer, rubs at his arm.
"You care about him. And you were mad. And when you're upset you get...." she trails off, thinking.
"Bitchy." Nancy supplies, moving to his other side, her hand on his shoulder as he glares at her.
"What? You do. Eddie was trying to do something nice. Something amazing, actually, for Max." Steve glares harder, she holds her finger up, silencening whatever he was about to interupt her with.
"And yes he went about it the wrong way. He obviously should have called for help." Robin chimes in, squeezing his arm.
"But no one said he was a genius. He's just trying to help." Nancy finishes, moving her hand over his shoulder soothingly.
"I know that. But he can't... he can't just help others to point that he hurts himself!" Steve flails a little, both Robin and Nancy leaning away from him, out of his flail range. They share a look though. And Max snorts behind him. He wips around to look at her.
"What? What was that for?" He asks, his tone, to his dismay, bitchy.
"Did you hear what just came out of your mouth? Have you met yourself?" She asks, crossing her arms carefully over her chest. She glares at him until he deflates. He sighs. Squints against the sun as he looks up at the sky.
"I need to go apologize." He says. All three girls nod.
"Yep." Nancy says, pressing her lips together so she doesn't smile.
"Definitely. 100% yeah." Robin squeezes his arm again, gives him an encouraging nod.
"If you don't. I'm throwing myself down these steps and telling my mom you left me unsupervised." Max says, her voice flat. Steve's eyes widen, and then he gives her a look.
"Jesus. Alright. I was already going. No need for threats." He calls the last part over his shoulder as he makes his way to Eddie's trailer. He bounces up the steps gingerly and knocks.
"Come in." Eddie's voice calls. Steve opens the door, the living room is empty. He walks down to Eddie's room and his heart sinks. Eddie has one arm pulled up inside his coveralls, it's bent at an interesting angle, he's sitting in the edge of his bed, his face is wet with tears. He flinches a little when he sees it's Steve standing there and that hurts Steve too. He moves closer, just one step and then Eddie chokes out,
"I'm stuck." And Steve moves fast. He kneels in front of Eddie, trying to look at the situation, his arm is caught in the sleeve, his elbow shoved into it tightly, he moves Eddie's wrist and Eddie flinches again.
"Does it hurt?" He asks, keeping his voice quiet. Eddie nods, bites his lip. The sleeve is pressing hard into Eddie's arm, right where one of his scars is. Steve winces in sympathy.
"How attached are you to these?" He tugs on the front of the coveralls, Eddie looks at him.
"I'm not. They're Wayne's old pair." He says, his voice tight from the pain.
"Okay good." Steve says as he slides his pocket knife out, flicks it open, and cuts the sleeve in one fluid motion. Eddie's arm drops free, another whimper falls out of him at the release.
Steve cradles Eddie's arm, holds it gently as Eddie catches his breath. His fingers squeeze Eddie's wrist and he opens his eyes. Looks at Steve.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you." Steve says, not letting go of Eddie's wrist. Eddie blinks at him. Stares. Then shakes his head.
"Don't be. I fucked up. You were right. I shouldn't have been out there by myself." Eddie frowns, wipes at his wet face. Steve shakes his head then, pushing himself up onto his knees, his back straightening, moving him closer to Eddie's face.
"No. Don't do that. It wasn't your fault. Okay? I shouldn't have yelled. You were trying to help Max. And I just... I didn't wanna find you hurt. Again." Steve looks at Eddie, really looks at him, tries to convey what he means without having to say it. Eddie's eyes are wide, and a little glassy from crying, but Steve sees it, the moment realization hits him.
"Okay. I won't do it again." Eddie nods, moves his wrist in Steve's hand so he can curl his fingers around Steve's wrist.
"Thank you. Just call us. We'll help you. Okay? And Eddie?" Steve swallows, stands and lifts Eddie to his feet, Eddie blinks at him owlishly.
"You're not alone. I'm sorry if we made you feel that way." Steve whispers it, feels his throat burn as Eddie starts crying again. He wipes at his face and shakes his head, looks at Steve with some strange frown smile combo.
"No I know. I just... it's always just been me. And Wayne. Ya know?" He says, holding onto Steve as he sways, dizzy. Steve holds onto him right back.
"Yeah. Well... not anymore." Steve shrugs, smiles, and then tugs Eddie out of his room. They get him another pain pill, Steve rubs some ointment onto the scar on his arm, and then they go back outside.
Nancy is cutting wood while Robin measures and marks. Steve doesn't let go of Eddie's hand until he has him sitting on the porch steps. Max hands him another glass of water.
"You're drinking me out of house and home Munson." She teases, he stares her down as he chugs the water, holds the glass back out to her and wiggles it with a shit eating grin.
"Unbelievable. Sending the girl in the wheelchair to do your errands." She sighs, but smiles when Eddie hops up and gets the door for her, follows her inside to help. He pops back a minute later and hands Steve a peice of paper. It has his plans for the ramp on it.
"This is sort of what I was aiming for." He shrugs, watches Steve look over the paper.
"You did this?" He asks, looking back up at Eddie. Eddie nods, wraps his arms around himself, feeling self-conscious under Steve's gaze.
"What? What's wrong with it?" He asks when Steve says nothing.
"What? Oh no, sorry, nothing's wrong. It's just super detailed." Steve smiles, shakes his head, hands the paper to Robin and Nancy.
"Yeah well, I wanted it done right." Eddie shrugs, Nancy makes a weird moaning sound behind them, both of them look to see her looking down at the paper in her hands, lovingly. She looks back up at Eddie.
"Finally! Someone else detail oriented. I'm making copies of this." She sounds genuine as she waves the paper, smiling at Eddie. He flushes red and moves to sit on the steps again. When his hands stop shaking he helps Robin with the measurements.
She measures, he measures, Nancy and Steve cut.
It takes them two days. But they get it done. The ramp wraps around the side of the trailer, where Max's mom always parks. He bought some plywood as well, to put down on the ground, so Max's wheels wouldn't sink.
The first time she pushes Max down the ramp she nearly cries as she throws herself at Eddie. Hugs him tight and then apologizes when he huffs in pain. Max grabs his hand, looks up at him with her bright blue eyes, and kisses his arm. Just a little peck, smooching the bats on his skin. But he gets it. That's all she needs to do. He knows she's grateful.
Steve shows up at Eddie's trailer the day after they finish the ramp. His eyes are wild and he looks like he's been shoving his hands into his hair for a couple of hours. Eddie gets half way through asking what's wrong and then Steve is kissing him. They almost fall into the trailer with the force of it. Steve catches them, rights them, but doesn't let go of Eddie, just lets out a breathy,
"Sorry sorry." As he keeps them steady. Eddie just smiles dumbly at him. Wayne stands from the couch, clears his throat awkwardly and pats Eddie on the shoulder as he leaves, says,
"Told you them coveralls was lucky boy." He winks as he passes them. Eddie's laughter filling the trailer behind him as Steve's face goes crimson and he drops his head on Eddie's shoulder with a dramatic groan.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
Text
Two idiots in love. (P4)
Joel Miller x anemic!reader
Summary: Joel and the reader continue to navigate their feelings for each other, but it starts to become more and more clear as time progresses.
Warning: blood, guns, death, cursing
Masterlist
Parts 1, 2, 3, 5
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Ellie walked out of the building to join Joel and Y/N.
Joel was knelt down by a car, his hands prying at the gas cap. Y/N was leaning against said car, and the two seemed to be arguing.
"Joel, please. I can help you sometimes…"
"No. You don't need to be doing any of this stuff. Bad for you."
Siphoning another car.
Ellie sighed as she neared, "We have to do this every hour?"
The two peaked their heads up at her.
Joel calmly explained, "Gas breaks down over time. This stuff's almost water. Back in the day, we'd drive, 10, 12 hours on one tank. You could go anywhere."
She nodded, "So where'd you go?"
Joel looked up at her again, finally rigging up the tubing. "Pretty much nowhere." And he brought the tube to his mouth.
He blew into one tube, making gas come out of the other and into their small fuel tank.
Ellie smiled, "Nice! How does that work?"
He tilted his head back and forth, "It's a siphon."
Ellie looked confused, and Joel realized he needed to dumb it down a bit.
Y/N smiled as well. Joel was such a patient man.
"It's when liquid travels against gravity," he looked a bit confused, "…because pressure…"
"You don't know."
Joel became defensive, "I know it works."
Ellie turned away, walking towards another car.
Joel reprimanded, "No wandering."
The girl sighed, "Okay." And set on the hood of the closest car. "This is your fault then."
Y/N laughed as Ellie pulled her joke book out of her bag, watching Joel become more annoyed at each joke.
"Alright. I think that's enough for today."
Joel turned the truck off the road and into the forest.
Y/N got out carefully, and moved to the bed of the truck to get the small camping grill Bill had left them.
Joel stopped her, "I'll get it, sweetheart."
He set it on the ground where they would make their camp.
She smiled, "Well, you get us unpacked, and I'll make dinner?"
He considered her proposal, "Alright."
The two adults watched Ellie eat her food with an animalistic speed. 
"Slow down," Joel reprimanded.
"This IS slow." 
Y/N smiled with a small chuckle.
Ellie finally slowed down, "What am I even eating?"
Y/N finally spoke up, "That is 20 year old Chef Boyardee ravioli."
"Well, that guy was GOOD."
Joel grimaced, "I actually agree."
The silence ensued until Ellie spoke up, "Can we start a fire though? I'm freezing."
"Now, why am I gonna tell you no?"
"Because infected will see the smoke…"
Y/N spoke up again, her plate untouched, "…no. That's not it at all…"
Joel nodded, "Fungus isn't that smart. This is too remote for Infected anyway."
Ellie gulped slightly, "…People?"
Joel just gave a look, but it was enough to tell her she was right.
"So, what are they gonna do? Rob us?" Ellie scoffed.
Joel stared down at his food, "No. They'll have way more in mind than that." He glanced over, seeing Y/N's untouched plate, "Eat."
She sighed slightly, "I… I'm not that hungry."
He straightened his shoulders, his voice becoming demanding, "Eat, Y/N."
She shook her head. She didn't mean to be defiant, but she couldn't bare to eat food at the moment. 
Joel set his plate down. She knew his tone well. He was angry, but trying to mask it for her. "Sweet girl…"
But she stopped before he could continue, "Joel, really. Please don't push it."
He stared at her for a while before nodding, going back to his food.
Joel and Y/N woke up early, under the same covers as they always did. Joel began to pack up as Y/N offered to start a small pot of coffee.
Joel took the offer, running a hand over Y/N's messy hair. He took note of her puffy eyes from sleep and the sweet smile that she wore.
He wished he could hold that picture forever.
They began their duties, as made quiet small talk to avoid waking Ellie. "Joel..?"
Joel turned to look at Y/N over his shoulder, "..Yeah?"
"Somedays I wish I had your accent…"
Joel actually smirked at the woman. God, she was a treasure. "My accent?"
"Yeah. You have this accent. I don't know. I like it, I guess."
He nodded, unsure of what to say.
So, she continued, "I think I just like your voice. It's… soothing. I don't think the accent would sound as nice with me."
Joel just let her talk. She hadn't spoken this much since Bill and Frank's. 
"…I wish I could've met you before all of this…"
This made the man stop packing. "…what?"
"I.. well… you know? What you were like and… what you did, what you wore, how you talked. What you were like with your daughter…."
Joel was unmoving. He was thankful his back was to her, or she would've seen the expression on his face.
"…Can't I be a little curious?"
He sighed. Of course, she could be. He would tell her anything in the world her heart desired if she asked.
Finally, he spoke. It was slow and calculated, "You can be."
"Do you think we would've been friends? Our old selves?"
This woman would be Joel's end. And he would love her for it.
He finally turned to look at her. She sat on the ground next to the pot of coffee. Her big eyes staring back up at his in concern for his answer.
He sat in the silence for a moment as he thought of what to say. He settled on, "…you wouldn't have liked me." And he moved back to the truck to pack.
She tilted her head, "You don't know that."
He spoke over his shoulder, "I do. And I don't even know why you're around me now, if I'm being honest."
She misinterpreted him, her eyes saddening, "Well… do… Do you not want me here?"
Joel immediately turned around with wide eyes and slight panic. His voice hardened, "That's not what I said. And don't say that ever again."
She was thrown off by his sudden defense. It confused her, "…but you said.."
"You're not leaving. I won't let that happen."
A nod and a confused look was all Joel got from the woman in front of him.
She stood up, walking her bag to the truck. She stood next to Joel, and placed the bag in the bed.
They said nothing. They weren't sure if there was anything to say.
Joel finally sighed, turning to her. He reached up with one hand, placing it on the bag of her head, letting his fingers play with the strands of hair, "Listen, sweet girl. I only meant-"
"What the fuck is that?"
Ellie interrupted the two.
Joel sighed as he dropped his hand and looked over to Ellie, "You don't like coffee?"
Y/N sighed at the lost moment, her shoulders slumping.
Ellie woke up in the backseat as Y/N muttered road names under her breath to Joel as she stared at a road map. Joel would only nod or hum lightly at the names.
Ellie thought it was strange, their little secret language to each other.
But she only opened her eyes when she felt the truck stop.
They were at the outskirts of an abandoned city.
And the underpass needed to keep driving was blocked by a semi truck that had crashed.
"Stay put." Joel muttered as he got out with his gun to investigate.
Ellie took this time to get caught up. "Where are we?"
Y/N looked over her shoulder, "Kansas City."
Ellie nodded, "So, you and Joel are..?"
Y/N sighed, "You heard us this morning?"
"Yeah. I think he likes you a lot."
The woman leaned back in her seat. "Doesn't matter, Ellie. You shouldn't get too attached to people. They always die."
"But Joel-"
"-I said, it doesn't matter." Her voice grew pleading, "Don't get too attached to us, Ellie."
The girl knew she didn't really mean that.
Joel got back into the truck, his hand reaching out for the map in Y/N's hands.
Ellie noticed the way their fingers grazed each others. "So how far back do we have to go?"
Joel stared at the map, tracing potential roads until he sighed. He gently set the map down in Y/n's lap. "Screw it."
He turned the truck around, driving through the city to get back on the highway. 
But half way through, he cursed under his breath, "Where the fuck is the highway?"
Y/N hummed, "I'm turned around now. Just… give me a second."
Joel spoke up, "Don't look at the state map, hon. Look at the inset."
"Either way, I'll still be confused."
She spoke under her breath, trying to figure it out.
Joel turned, "It's gotta be the right…"
"STOP!"
Joel hit the brakes at Ellie's plea.
A man was in front of the truck, holding his side, "Please! Help me!"
Y/N's head perked up at the cry, "Joel…?"
"Put your damn seatbelt on."
Ellie stared at the man, "Aren't we gonna help him?"
"No."
And Joel hit the gas, making the man jump out of the way.
Y/N noticed the person on the roof of the next building, their feet kicking at a barrel.
And it fell towards the truck.
"JOEL!"
Joel tried to swerve, but couldn't avoid it.
It hit the windshield. 
It made Joel blind to the row of nails that now pierced the tires. 
The truck swerved, crashing into a building harshly.
Joel immediately reached out for Y/N, his hand on the back of her head like earlier, but in a more panicked state, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah."
"You're not hurt or nothin?"
"… I don't know…"
When Joel pulled his hand away from her head, it came back slightly red with blood. 
"Shit."
Y/N noticed the blood too, looking at Joel with a worried expression.
He wanted to comfort her, but the bullets that pierced the truck reminded him of the situation. 
"Belts off. Get out."
Ellie and Y/N got out on the passenger side, blocking themselves from the bullets. 
Joel followed suit.
He reached into the backseat through the window, grabbing his gun.
He turned to the girls, "You see that hole over there?"
They looked over to the hole in the wall.
"Can you squeeze through?"
Y/N only stared.
"When I say go, you crawl to that wall, and you squeeze through and you don't come out until I say, okay?"
A bullet broke one of the windows.
"And they're not gonna hit you." 
Joel noticed Y/N's wandering gaze. He wanted to be soft, but he was too panicked to go so. "LOOK AT ME!"
She did.
"They're not gonna hit you. Take Ellie with you."
She stopped, "but I can't leave you."
He took her jaw in one hand, "You sweet, sweet girl. I'm gonna be fine. Let me worry about you. Stay down, stay low, and you stay quiet."
She knew not to argue.
"Alright. Go."
And with that, the two girls crawled to the hole in the wall with determination. Joel peaked over the top of the truck bed to shoot back.
He made sure the two got through.
He shot one easily, but another man was still out there. And judging by his taunts, he was enraged. 
Silence.
Ellie and Y/N only stared at each other with wide eyes. Unsure of Joel's safety.
A gunshot.
Y/N couldn't help it. She just barely peeked out from the hole to check.
Joel stood tall, the end of his gun smoking just slightly. 
He reached down to reload.
And it was jammed.
The door opened and a young man stepped out, ready to fight.
Joel was too.
Y/n heard the sound of rustling and the occasional grunt from a hit. 
She wasn't sure who was winning. 
But she was going to make sure it was Joel.
She stepped out while the man had his back to her.
Joel noticed and his eyes widened.
When the man saw Joel's gaze, he followed it. To which Y/N threw a heavy punch to the man's face.
The man was thrown off but not for long enough. 
He reached forward, grabbing Y/N by her hair and pulling her to him.
Joel took that as an advantage and wrapped his hand around the man's neck, the other over his head, ready to snap his neck. He growled in the man's ear, "Don't fucking touch her."
Though the man was the only one with the gun, he was at the disadvantage.
Y/N stared into the man's eyes, trying to read his thoughts.
Finally, he muttered, "You're gonna fucking pay, old man."
This angered Joel. He didn't want to just kill the man. He wanted him to pay.
So, he threw the man backwards into the floor, continuing the fight.
Y/N fell to the ground herself, cradling her head in pain. She was already losing blood from earlier, and she was beginning to see stars.
So, when Joel was on the ground, being choked by the man, Y/N was of no help.
Ellie stepped out, shooting the man in the leg. 
It gave Joel a moment to collect himself and his breath. His eyes immediately flickered between Ellie and Y/N. 
The man backed up to the door on the ground. 
He was just a boy.
And he began to plead, "NO, no, no it's okay. It's okay. It's over. We're not fighting anymore."
Y/N pushed herself up onto her knees. Her face contorted in pain.
She couldn't help but feel bad.
Especially when he continued, "I'm gonna go home. I'll tell everyone you're good. I… I don't know what to do. My legs don't work."
He started to weep. "My mom isn't far, if you could get me to her."
Joel started to get up.
"Please. We could trade with you guys. We could be friends. I didn't know. I'm Bryan."
Joel approached Ellie was an angry expression, holding his hand out for the gun in her hand.
She sighed and handed it to him.
And Joel took out a knife, turning back to the boy.
The boy began to plead again, "Wait, wait, wait."
Joel turned to Ellie in rage. His voice was low, "Get back behind the wall."
Ellie just stared.
Finally, Y/N spoke up quietly, "…just go."
When Ellie turned to leave, Bryan began pleading loudly, "I'm sorry! Please, no! I'm sorry!"
Y/N turned to Joel once Ellie hid. A tear fell down her face at the sight. Her voice was almost a whisper, "Joel?"
But he wouldn't listen. "Close your eyes."
Joel was an unmovable force. Merciless and cruel. For everyone that stood in his way. 
It scared her slightly, watching his eyes turn murderous.
She had killed before, sure. But never had she looked so… bloodthirsty.
Not like he did.
She closed her eyes, listening to the man's cries for his mother until they were silenced.
She didn't dare open her eyes until she felt Joel's breath on her face. 
His eyes scanned her carefully. "You okay?"
"No."
Joel's jaw clenched. "Alright. We'll fix this. Let's get you cleaned up, Darlin."
And just like that, the murderous glare was gone, and Joel had returned.
And this Joel was hers.
............................................................
Author's note: I'm gonna make a tag list for any continuing parts I make. Comment if you want on it and I'll add you!
Part 5
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thankskenpenders · 10 months
Text
Sonic Prime: "Season 2"
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Eight more episodes of Sonic Prime are out! They're labeled as "season 2" despite just being the next eight episodes of the first (and presumably only) season, allowing Netflix to market it as multiple seasons without having to give the cast and crew raises. They love doing that shit to their original cartoons. Ugh.
Anyway! Last time, I gave the show some leeway because it was still finding its legs. This time, though? We're now two thirds of the way through the series, and sadly, I think it's time to accept the truth:
While there are parts I like, a lot of this show... kinda sucks?
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This multiverse sucks and Rouge was robbed
Previously, I noted the pattern of each universe spotlighting a different friend of Sonic's (Tails in New Yolk City, Amy in the jungle world, Knuckles in the pirate world) and predicted that, hopefully, Rouge would get her time to shine next. And with 16 episodes left, surely there's time to explore new worlds that are more interesting than the jungle and pirate worlds. Those were just the warm up act. Right?
...Right?
Nope! That's it! There are no more worlds.
This multiverse show where anything is possible really is just about another Eggman-controlled dystopia world, a jungle world, and a pirate world. That's all they came up with! Just those three, and two dead worlds that don't really count - one a featureless wasteland, the other a ghostly echo of the original Green Hill dubbed "Ghost Hill." (Sonic's friends appear here as holograms stuck repeating a single line each. It gets old immediately.)
The jungle and pirate worlds and their inhabitants being so overwhelmingly generic becomes unforgivable the moment you realize this is all we're gonna get. It just leaves me wishing they'd thrown this whole concept out and finally made a normal Sonic cartoon with no twist in its premise. A few of the new takes here are good, particularly Nine as a darker riff on Tails, but so many of them don't feel anything like the fun characters they're supposed to be. They're stock cartoon characters wearing the Sonic casts' skins.
I'll admit my bias is showing, but god, Rouge is REALLY done dirty by this setup. The normal Rouge we see in the first episode is so fun for how briefly she appears, but then in all the other worlds she's reduced to a generic action girl with zero personality. What's her purpose, exactly, when every AU version of Amy is ALSO a straightforward action girl? It drives me absolutely insane that they gave us a PIRATE ROUGE and she doesn't care about treasure. They do nothing with this! How!!!!!!!! She's just never gonna get her turn. It's so obvious that Rouge is only in this show so that they can have another girl, but you could swap her out with another character like Blaze and it'd make no difference.
Speaking of the pirates, though...
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The way things play out in the pirate world is so stupid
Previously, with the Paradox Prism shard within reach, Captain Dread Knux was regressing into his old obsessive personality. I'm fine with this. Sonic and Dread both want the shard, they're gonna fight over it. Obvious stuff. But the actual impact it has on the story is maybe the stupidest bit of writing in this entire show so far.
Basically, while fighting a couple of the Eggmen and their robots at sea, Sonic has to briefly run over to the enemy ship to fight them and grab the Paradox Prism shard while Dread and his crew remain back on their ship. Dread goes "Oh my god, look! Sonic's abandoning us! Traitor!" While Sonic is... like 200 feet away. Still in clear view. Fighting the guys who are trying to kill them. Retrieving Dread's beloved treasure for him.
And yet, Dread's crew buys this! And when Sonic runs right back over with the shard in hand, they're all like "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY US" and turn on him.
It's just. What?!
This isn't a huge part of the "season," but I highlight it as maybe the worst moment of the show's character writing. I'm reminded of Thorn Rose's backstory from last time, where she was depicted as suddenly snapping one day when she saw her friends pick one too many berries in the jungle. Sometimes a character just needs to pivot for the story to work, and they aren't really interested in getting there smoothly.
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The Chaos Council fucking sucks
I tried so hard to like these guys, but they drag the show down so much.
The choice to have a team of five different Eggmen really just means that Eggman has been split into five one-note characters. Four of them revolve entirely around the most trite, predictable, boomer-ass jokes based on their ages. The teenage one is whiny and just wants to play video games. The young adult one is a vegan hipster who does yoga. The old one is cranky about all the whippersnappers and has a bad back. The baby is a baby. These are jokes that would've been tired if this show aired 20 years ago.
The odd man out is Mister Doctor Eggman, the middle-aged one with a toupee who's the stand-in for regular Eggman. But even he kinda sucks. The other four all being one-note joke characters means that he has to be the straight man of the group, so he's just very dry and serious and plot-focused without any of Eggman's fun eccentricities. He's neither particularly funny nor particularly sinister, which is just about the worst place for an Eggman to be.
He doesn't even have any incompetent robot lackeys to bounce off of, because the unfunny alternate age Eggmen fill the quota for bumbling secondary villains. But also, like... Orbot and Cubot are in this show! They were in the first episode! Where are they? God, I never thought I'd miss them so much...
But, okay. It's not ALL bad.
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The highlights
There's a recurring theme here, which is that the best episodes are the ones where Sonic is pitted against a foe who can match his speed and they just let the animation carry it.
The first of the new episodes is mostly about Sonic fighting Shadow, and BOY is their fight fun to watch. Said fight happens because Shadow blames Sonic for shattering the universe and doesn't trust him to fix things. Shadow wants to restore their world, but he refuses to see the various AU counterparts as the same people Sonic once knew, and he doesn't really care what happens to them. Ultimately, though, he begrudgingly accepts that Sonic really is the only one who can hop between dimensions for Plot Reasons, and therefore lets him go try to do things the nice way. He sadly spends most of his time waiting around in the void between worlds, but in the last episode of the batch he and Sonic get to team up against the Chaos Council's forces and it's very cool.
As far as recent interpretations of Shadow go, this is a good one. He's a great foil for Sonic, which just makes me wish he could travel with Sonic to the different worlds. He's cynical and overly pragmatic in his approach, but his points aren't entirely wrong. His anger feels justified. They even let him have some snark! And Ian Hanlin is really great in the role - definitely a contender for Shadow's best voice ever. He just sounds so natural.
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The other speedster Sonic fights is Chaos Sonic, the Chaos Council's take on Metal.
He can talk! Deven is basically doing a Jaleel impersonation for him? People are very mixed on this.
The idea behind Chaos Sonic is to turn Sonic's obnoxious smack talk and zingers back around on him, and I don't hate this idea, even if a lot of fans find him annoying compared to Metal Sonic. (Some comparisons have been made to Archie's Shard, but I assume this is a coincidence.) Like the rest of the script, his dialogue certainly isn't anything to write home about, but the fights he gets into with Sonic and co. are so damn fun and dynamic that I have to like him. I also like how expressive his eyes are on his dome screen face, and the animators have a ton of fun with the fact that his torso and head can rotate 360 degrees.
Unfortunately, he's destroyed at the end of his debut episode. I'm praying he gets rebuilt, because this show desperately needs better villains than the Chaos Council.
Again, the animation in Prime is maybe the best animation in any official Sonic media, period. I just wished I liked the characters and worlds enough to be invested in more of the fights. It's hard to care about the dozenth group battle against the generic Eggforcer bots and the baby in his Fisher-Price mech.
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The note we end on
After fighting a giant glowing replica of the normal Eggman for... some reason? Episode 16 ends with Sonic and Nine getting into an argument over what to do with the Paradox Prism shards. Sonic wants to restore his original world, but Nine still wants to create a new, better world out of the one that's just an empty wasteland, believing he doesn't belong anywhere else. Nine angrily runs off with the shards, and Sonic is distraught as he realizes that Shadow was seemingly right about how he shouldn't trust Nine.
I kind of like this conflict, mostly because Nine is the standout character of this show. But my main problem is that we don't know what will happen when everything is fixed.
The logical assumption is that the alternate worlds will just... stop existing, right? That must be the idea if Sonic and Nine are treating restoring the original world and creating a new one in the Shatterverse as mutually exclusive options, right? If the Shatterverse disappears, will Nine and the rest all stop existing, too? The show seems unwilling to discuss this possibility, so I'm left not really knowing what the stakes are in this conflict. Nine becomes a whole lot more sympathetic and Sonic becomes a whole lot more monstrous if restoring the world will erase most of this show's cast from existence, but the thought that this could even happen doesn't seem to have crossed Sonic's mind. Sonic seems to want to take his AU friends back to the regular Green Hill - he at least wants to introduce Nine to his normal friends - but like... he can't really do that, can he? They're not gonna have four Tailses running around.
I don't really know what direction this is all headed in. I guess we just have to keep watching, even if I'm past the point of accepting that this show is mostly very mid.
It's just frustrating that everyone else working on this show is clearly giving it their all while the writers at Man of Action phone it in for so much of its runtime. The scripts drag this show down so, so hard. There are moments and episodes I like, but you have to slog through so much mediocrity to get there.
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s0urw00lf · 5 months
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Two peas in a pack : Magic bullet
Stiles stilinski x reader
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An: I knowwww it’s been a while… do what to say and this wasn’t even hard to write… no excuse. Anyway enjoy!
    Scott Stiles and y/n were all sat in class as their teacher handed out test results. Stiles, who was sitting to y/ns right and behind Scott, tapped Scott on the shoulder getting his attention. "If Derek isn't the alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who is?" He asked, y/n nodded "Great question". Scott pondered for a second before answering "I don't know". Stiles sat back but quickly leaned forward again. "Did the alpha kill the bus driver?" He asked, and again Scott answered "I don't know"  Stiles sat back again exhaling dramatically loudly, before leaning up again "Does Allison's dad know-" he said but was cut off by Scott "i dont know!" He said way louder, attracting the attention of the whole class momentarily. The teacher had finally reached the trio, y/n looked down at her paper and smiled at the circled A+ at the corner of her paper, she looked over to Stiles and he showed his that just read A. Y/n smirked when she showed hers, laughing at the way stiles face dropped. Y/n took a quick glimpse at Scott while smiling and her smile immediately dropped, making Stiles turn to look. His face mirrored y/ns shock. "Dude you need to study more" Stiles said jokingly "Yeah Scott I knew you were failing, but I didn't think it was this bad" y/n said going along with Stiles's teasing "Okay we’re joking. Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up," stiles said trying to lift Scott's spirits, "He's right. Hey, I'll even help you study," Y/n said. Scott sighed "No it's okay, I'm studying with Allison today," Scott said nonchalantly. Stiles plastered a surprised expression on his face "That's my boy" he said making y/n groan. "We're just studying," Scott said shutting down what everyone knew Stiles was referring to. "Uh uh. No, you're not," he said pushing his case.
    "No, I'm not?" Scot said questioningly. "Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I swear to go I will have you de-balled" Stiles ranted. "Don't feel pressured Scott, it's nobody's fault Stiles can't get laid" y/n said, smirking when Stiles looked at her with one eye squinted. "Not like you can either y/n," he said arguing back. "Oh no I can, I just choose not to." She said widening her smirk. "Okay! Just stop with the questions man" Scott said interrupting the banter. "Done. No more questions... no more talk about the alpha or Derek. Especially Derek who still scares me." He said. As soon as y/n heard Stiles mention Derek y/n began to get an overwhelming sense that Derek was nearby. She immediately brushed it off not seeing how he'd be able to get in the school during school hours.
    the school had just let out and y/n followed Stiles to his jeep and laughed as he happily jumped in. He pulled out and began to drive out of the parking lot but was abruptly stopped by a very sickly-looking Derek Hale standing in the middle of the road holding his hand up as if to say "Stop". " you gotta be kidding me this guy everywhere" "Ok seriously this guy’s everywhere" y/n said at the same time as stiles, as they looked around for Scott hearing honking from behind them. Scott ran up to the driver's side, then to Derek making both y/n and Stiles get out and do the same. "What are you doing here," Scott asked kneeling beside Derek. "I was shot" Derek replied with labored breaths. "He's not looking so good dude," Stiles said. "Why aren't you healing?" Y/n whispered yelled as she knelt as well. "I can't. It was a different kind of bullet." He answered. "A silver bullet?" Stiles asked. "No you idiot," Derek said glaring up at Stiles. Scott's eyes widened "Wait. That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours," Scott said. "What? Who said 48 hours?" Derek asked. "the one who shot you" Scott answered. Just then Derek groaned and his eyes shifted to the glowing blue. Y/n looked around panicking making sure nobody was close enough to have seen it. "What are you doing? Stop that" she hissed. Derek shook his head "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." He growled breathlessly. "Derek. Get up!" Scott demanded.
The honking began to get more consistent. Scott lifted Derek as y/n opened the door before climbing into the back seat. "I need you to find the kind of bullet they used," Derek said as Scott closed the door to the jeep. "How the hell am I supposed to do that?" He asked.  "Because she's an argent, she's with them," he said. "Why should I help you?” Scott asked "Because you need me," Derek said, making y/n sigh. He was right and Scott knew it "Fine, I'll try. Hey get him out of here" Scott said to Stiles who had just gotten in the driver's seat. "I hate you so much for this," Stiles said through gritted teeth, before pulling off.
They'd been driving for about 30 minutes in silence and Stiles sighed picking up his phone to call Scott, he sighed even louder when he didn't answer, so he decided to text. 'Did you find it?' To which Scott replied 'need more time' making stile slam his phone on the seat, he looked over to Derek who had come out of his jacket "Hey try not to bleed out on my seats, okay?" He said. "Hey stiles ease up, he's shot," Y/n said, stiles again sighed "Fine. We're almost there anyway" he stated. "Almost where?" Derek asked. "Your house," Stiles said. "What? No, you can't take me there" Y/n sighed putting in her earbuds to not hear the two bicker, even when Stiles abruptly stopped the jeep. She thought it was best for them to sort out their differences.
Hours had passed and y/n groaned, they were parked on the side of the road and she was at the point now where she was aggravated. She got out of the car and dialed Scott's number. Surprised when he picked up
Y/n- Hello Scott it's me one of the two friends you so graciously forgot about that is sitting with the dying wolf... where the hell are you!?
Scott- I'm sorry they made me stay for dinner, where are you?
Y/n - parked on the side of the road. Where we have been for going on 2 hours!
She said getting back in the car, holding her phone out for Stiles to take
Stiles - what are we supposed to do with him?!
Scott- take him somewhere. Anywhere!
Stiles- and by the way he's starting to smell
Scott- Like what
Stiles- Like death
Scott- ok, take him to the animal clinic
Stiles- What about your boss
Scott- He's gone by now. There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster
Stiles sighed "You’re not gonna believe where he's telling me to take you,” he said handing Derek the phone
Derek- Did you find it?
Scott- How am I supposed to find one bullet? They have a million. This house is like the freaking Walmart of guns
Derek- If you don't find it, then I'm dead, alright?
Scott- I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing
Derek- Then think about this the alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you wanna stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet.
Derek hung up the phone and handed it back to y/n. Stiles started the jeep and they began on their merry way to the animal clinic. "Isn't it ironic we're taking an injured werewolf to an animal clinic?" y/n said with a laugh. "Don't forget you were bitten too" Derek huffed. Y/n made eye contact with Stiles through the mirror and smiled
They arrived at the clinic and Stiles unlocked the door, Derek plopped down on the animal food, y/n got a message from Scott "Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Y/n asked Derek. "It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He has to bring it to me" he said. "Why?" Stiles asked. Derek looked Stiles dead in the face "Because I'm gonna die without it". Y/n sighed a little more panicked she texted Scott with urgency 'You need to get here NOW'
Y/n followed Derek and Stiles through to the operation room. Derek discarded his shirt to which y/n's eyes widened and quickly looked away, and Stiles was quick to look over to see  y/n's reaction.
The wound looked horrible if y/n was being honest, "You know that doesn't look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles said making y/n shake her head. "When the infection reaches my heart it'll kill me." Derek panted. "You know you really know how to be optimistic," y/n said sarcastically. Both y/n and Stiles watched as Derek rummaged through the drawers and cabinets obviously in search of something. “If he doesn’t get here with the bullet in time, I have a last resort,” he said. “Which is?” Stiles asked. The pair stared at Derek as he pulled out some sort of electric saw “You’re gonna cut off my arm.” Derek answered. This shocked the room into silence as y/n and Stiles racked their brains for something to say. “Oh my god! What if you bleed to death?” Stiles exclaimed. “It’ll heal if it works,” Derek said through clenched teeth as he tied a band around the bicep of his wounded arm. “I can't do this” y/n muttered as she turned away from Derek gagging. stiles nodded his head “Look, I don’t know if I can do this” Stiles explained, sounding like he was trying his best to hold back a gag.
“Why not?” Derek asked, still tying the band. “Well because of the cutting through the flesh-“ “the sawing of the bone!” “And the blood!” “Especially the blood.” Y/n and Stiles said bouncing off each other’s sentences. “Derek sighed dropping his arm onto the table “You faint at the sight of blood?” Derek asked grunting. “No, but we might at the sight of a chopped-off arm!” Stiles said, making y/n nod along. “Yeah no I can't I’m sorry Derek,” Y/n said. “Alright fine. Either you cut off my arm or I'm gonna cut off your head.” Derek said to Stiles. “Okay, you know what? I'm so not buying your threats-“Stiles was cut off by Derek grabbing his shirt and slamming him to the table “All right, bought, sold, totally, I’ll do it” Stiles rambled.
Y/n groaned “You’re an ass sometimes you know that?” She said to Derek “But I'll pass you this time because you’re dying” Y/n said before Derek leaned over and puked some sort of black substance right at his feet “Holy god, what the hell is that!?” “Jesus, I just might projectile vomit,” y/n said gagging while turning away from Derek for the second time tonight. “It’s my body trying to heal itself,” Derek said “Well it isn’t doing a good job,” Y/n said moving towards Stiles. “Now. You gotta do it now.” Derek said to Stiles. But y/n's ears picked up something unusual. The fast breathing of someone coming closer to the clinic, but how could she hear that? How all of a sudden. She heard something drop and hurried footsteps “Guys I think Scott’s here. Y/n muttered “Stiles? Y/n?”. Y/n's head shot up towards the door, she was right. Scott popped through the doorway seeing Stiles holding the saw to Derek’s arm “What the hell are you doing?” Scott almost yelled. Stiles let out a relieved chuckle “Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares.” Stiles said. “Did you get it?” Derek asked. Scott hurriedly dug the bullet out of his pocket and gave it to Derek. “What are you gonna do with it?” Y/n asked “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” Derek panted before he fell to the ground passed out and dropped the bullet. Scott hurriedly chased after it while Stiles and y/n worked on waking him up.
Y/n tuned out the yelling as she thought, but only one option came to mind. “We have to hit him. Hard” Stiles looked at her as if she was crazy “It's the only way, we don’t have that salt here, we don’t know what to do with the bullet so we can't do it ourselves.” Y/n rushed “We have to hit him”. Stiles looked down at Derek “Please don't kill me for this” he said before he punched Derek square in the face. “Ow, god” Stiles hissed as he shook his hand in pain, Derek had woken up. “Give me,” he said softly as Scott handed them the bullet, and y/n and Stiles helped him up. Derek quickly got to work biting the tip off the bullet and emptying the powder before lighting it on fire, a blue smoke emitted from the substance. He wiped the powder from the table into his hand as he took a breather before pouring it into the bullet wound making him yell out in agony, as he fell to the ground still yelling the trio watched grimacing at his yells of pain, but their wasn’t much they could do. They watched as the wound quickly healed, “that was AWESOME!” Stiles cheered pumping his fist in the air “Are you okay?” Y/n asked. “Aside from the agonizing pain,” Derek remarked. Making y/n roll her eyes “I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health” Stiles said making Derek glare at him. “Okay, we saved your life, which means you’re gonna leave us alone,” Scott said, y/n groaned and walked away muttering “I’ve had enough testosterone for one day”.
She situated herself in the waiting room of the clinic, now able to fully focus on how her body was changing. Her muscles are more defined, she’s hearing better, and if she were to guess she's stronger too, which means the bite did take effect and she’s turned. But into what? She asked herself before Derek walked passed her and out of the clinic with Scott following. She watched them leave wondering where they were going. Stiles soon walked into the waiting room, joining y/n. “where are they going?” Y/n asked softly. Stiles shrugged “Something about the argents, I don’t know,” he said. Y/n smiled “he really is whipped,” Y/n said looking at Stiles, almost lovingly. Stiles chuckled returning her stare “Yeah, he is” he said, not breaking the stare. The atmosphere began to get tense, both wondering if the other felt the same. Y/n was the first to break the eye contact, chuckling “We should lock up” she said looking anywhere but at Stiles. “Yeah,” he agreed. So they got to work cleaning Derek’s puke first then locking up around the clinic, making sure to leave it as they found it. The pair got in Stiles's jeep and drove home, the atmosphere wasn’t exactly tense but it was too much for y/ns liking. It didn’t take long for her to build up the courage to grab Stiles's hand. Stiles whipped his head towards y/n and stared in shock. Y/n laughed “Eyes on the road you big goof, and close your mouth, you're gonna catch flies,” she said, and Stiles nodded turning back towards the road but squeezing her hand just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming when he felt her squeeze back his heart soared over the moon.
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
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thinking about Max and the Munson's living across the way from each other post s3 again, but maybe specifically Max living across the way from Wayne post s3.
Wayne Munson knows what a kid looks like when they hide behind well practiced and carefully crafted defense mechanisms, after all, and he recognizes a kid with too much responsibility on their shoulders.
He sees this teenage girl with the pigtails and the hard eyes who doesn't answer the door when her friends come to call even though Wayne saw her sitting on the porch twenty minutes ago; who is always the one bringing groceries home on foot even when her mom's car is there; whose bedroom light is too frequently on when Wayne gets home before the sun even has the chance to think about rising.
And he's not gonna overstep about it, he has no intention of making this girl uncomfortable because he is a stranger to her and he knows how both he and Eddie look on a first glance, wouldn't blame her for not being entirely trusting, but he keeps an eye out for her anyway.
Tells Eddie too-- "She's home alone a lot, you make sure no one tries takin' advantage, hear?"-- even if Eddie is mostly preoccupied with his own shit most of the time, because if Wayne can recognize a kid hiding, a kid carrying too much around on that skateboard of hers, then Eddie certainly can too.
"You adopting another stray, old man?" is Eddie's response, but he glances out through the blinds at the trailer across the way with a heaviness to his shoulders in understanding at the sight of that girl sitting on the porch with her headphones on and a school book in her lap that she's decidedly not paying any attention.
"Something like that," Wayne claps him on the shoulder, squeezes as he passes by, but he doesn't think anything will really come of it.
There's not much they can do except keep an eye out, carry the Mayfields' paper up to the porch on rainy days so it won't get soggy and unreadable, offer a wave and a kind word and a reminder that "if your Mama ain't home and you need something, you just give us a knock," despite the brush off he gets every time.
And then one night-- one morning really, before the sun is about to rise-- Wayne pulls up at home after his shift to find Eddie standing out in the snow, odd enough in and of itself made odder by the fact he isn't alone.
"--don't know what you think you're gonna accomplish here at four in the goddamned morning, Harrington, but--"
"I mean, that doesn't feel like any of your business."
"You're parked outside my home, yeah it's my business," Eddie gestures broadly at the unfamiliar BMW the two of them are standing next to as Wayne clambers out of his own truck on tired legs and overworked shoulders.
He needs a hot shower, a good, long sleep.
But Eddie is getting in this other kid's face and it's--
"I'm parked outside that home," Harrington, big coat and gloves but thin pajama pants poking out underneath it all, points at the Mayfield trailer with exhausted exasperation and something tinged with a bit more urgency too, "and I don't know you, man, nothing I do is any of your business--"
"Steve come in-- do you have visual yet, over?"
"Jesus Christ," Harrington reaches into the front seat of his car, yanks out a radio that has Wayne's eyebrows shooting up even as he approaches them, the impatient and anxious shift of Eddie's untied sneakers in the December slush. "Gimme a minute," he says into the walkie-talkie, "I told you I'd call when I did."
"Yeah, but it only takes you ten minutes to drive to her place and--"
Harrington shoves the antenna down and shuts the thing off, just as Wayne finally stops beside his nephew with a hand at his elbow.
"Everything alright here, boys?"
Wayne knows his kid, is the thing, so he knows the protective tension in the cross of those arms, the furrow of his brow, knows that Eddie is maybe seeing himself in Max Mayfield a little too fully on this night, dragged out of his bed by god only knows what to argue with a Harrington in the brisk wind of winter.
And Wayne knows his kid, so he recognizes the work of his jaw when he's about to burst out into a spiel to make himself the target instead of whoever he's put behind him this time around, but he doesn't get the chance to start before he's being interrupted.
"Steve, why are you harassing my neighbors."
Flat and unimpressed but shaky around the edges like she's not quite getting enough air, the orange glow of the light inside her trailer spilling out past her into the blue of night as Steve Harrington's legs all but give out with a breath of--
"Oh, thank god," he shuts the door to his car behind him as he takes a few steps closer to him, Eddie trailing like he's ready to literally put his body between them instead of just figuratively, "are you okay?"
"I'm not the one driving around town in the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" she crosses her arms, doesn't leave the cracked doorway at the top of the steps and Harrington doesn't try to climb them either.
And then it's a quick, well-punctuated punch of a conversation in which Wayne feels like he's missing about half the facts, standing by nonetheless.
"Lucas walkied."
"I told him I was fine."
"You called him at three A.M. and hung up on him without explanation," Steve points out surprisingly levelly.
"Yeah. After I told him I was fine."
"Max."
"I thought I wanted to talk about it and changed my mind."
"You know he'd listen."
"I can't-- you know I can't--"
"Yes you can."
"Not about him. Not to Lucas."
"To me, then," Steve throws his hands up in exasperation, and Wayne can feel something crackling in the air.
It's the same thing that had been there the first handful of times Eddie had picked a fight with Wayne after he first moved to Hawkins, looking for the line, looking for how far he could go before it all went to shit again.
Wayne knows this girl, even if he doesn't know her, because years ago he'd brought a boy with a buzzcut for a visit and he'd never left.
Which is maybe why he speaks up even though he knows how that boy would've reacted.
"If you need something, kiddo..."
"I need everyone to leave me alone," she snaps, striding out all the way onto the porch, only the bravado of it falters when the door slams shut behind her and she all but jumps out of her skin. "Fuck. God, shit, that door--"
She opens it again, yanks it nearly off its hinges just to slam it once more like she's trying to break the thing.
And now she's definitely not getting enough air. Now she's--
"Max, hey, alright--"
"Buddy, I dunno--"
"Back off, Munson, this is really not your business," Harrington shoves past Eddie and strides up the steps as Max slumps down onto the top one, arms wrapped around herself and Eddie looks ready to fight but Wayne just.
He doesn't know Steve Harrington, doesn't even really know his family beyond the way of small towns and knowing names and the neighborhoods in which they reside, but he knows a kid in distress leaning towards safety even if they don't believe they deserve it and Max Mayfield is leaning towards him.
Not Wayne, not Eddie, but this kid with the walkie-talkie and-- is he wearing two different shoes?
Wayne waits the compulsory moment to see Max really fall apart, right there into the fabric of Steve's coat as she keeps her hands tucked under her arms but catches her breath with that one point of contact-- forehead to shoulder-- as Steve speaks gently, words getting caught in the wind. As she stutters out rattling feelings right back.
"The door slammed when she left for work and I-- thought he was-- back again-- I thought-- and I shouldn't've-- not Lucas-- not for, for this--"
Wayne crosses the distance between him and Eddie, hand on his shoulder dragging him out of his own head, wherever it is he goes when his gaze goes glassy and tired like it does now in the gray glow of this place as the snow starts up again.
"You did good," Wayne murmurs, tugging Eddie back towards their own home, just across the way. "Good job, Ed, she's gonna be okay."
"She's..." Eddie clears his throat, looks so much younger than he is for a moment.
"Being looked after," Wayne says with a certainty he wouldn't have felt about the matter a day ago, Eddie following him listlessly back up the steps to the unlocked front door. "You did good."
"I didn't do anything," Eddie frowns, the pink of his cheeks and his nose practically glowing once they're inside.
"You showed her you've got her back," Wayne tells him without room for argument, pulling off his winter coat and moving to heat up water on the stove even as Eddie peeks through the curtains again, seemingly unable to accept that nothing bad is going to happen tonight.
Wayne can't be sure what put him in this state of mind, how he even got alerted to Harrington's arrival in the first place, but he knows he'll find his way back to solid ground soon enough.
Hot tea and warm clothes, when Wayne pulls Eddie away from the window, he catches sight of Steve speaking into the walkie with one hand and holding Max to rest against his shoulder with the other.
He'll make sure they get out of the cold before he goes to bed, but for now he has his own kid to sit with in the ghosts of past hauntings brought back to life for the night.
"We gotta keep an eye out for her," Eddie mutters as he accepts the mug Wayne hands him, feet tucked up under a blanket on the couch.
Wayne sits down next to him and props his tired feet up on the coffee table with a heavy breath.
"We will," he says, because he knows there's no discouraging Eddie now.
The kid learned his habit for picking up strays from somewhere, after all.
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azulock · 2 months
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WHEN I SAW YOUR REQS ARE OPEN, I GOT A LIL BIT EXITED EHUEHUE. Imagine beign shidou's HOT AF gf and shidou keeps talking about you too sae about having threesome and sae be like "i dont belive you have a pretty gf" and when he saw u, he went like "deal." IT CAN BE DRABBLE OR JUST HEADCANONS OF RELATIONSHIP WITH THEM ETC. IDK AND IGNORE IF YOU DONT WANT TO. love you bbg 😈🔥🗣💯
You know I could write something better for this but I'm having a hard time right now, so I'm gonna keep it in my head, who knows, maybe someday that smut comes out. Now LETS GOOOO BABES <3
Honestly, Shidou probably has pestered Sae so much that at this point he doesn't even listen to what the guy has to say
So, when the pink haired freak gives Sae a break the man can barely understand why this miracle happened, but he is happy anyway
Soon he learns Shidou got a girlfriend, and he supposes this is gonna be the end of it, he's gonna be free
But it doesn't last, and not very long after the miracle happens, it ends, except this time Shidou pulls up with a different talk
At any chance, Shidou tries to tell Sae about you, and about how fucking hot you are, not that Sae is big on listening, but he keeps on getting cornered
Sae had almost gotten used to Shidou flirting with him left and right, but now it was different, now Shidou was openly coming onto Sae offering a threesome with his "unbelievably hot 1000 out of 10" girlfriend
Not that Sae believed Shidou's talk about how ridiculously hot his girlfriend was
Shidou tried, god knows he did, pulling up his phone to show Sae a picture but the man kept his icy stare and walked away every time, refusing to look, or to believe in Shidou's words
That is until a club event came around, where Shidou brought you, his obviously, stupidly hot girlfriend, and when Sae laid eyes on you, Shidou could see the cool mask break
It would be easy for Shidou to just approach Sae with you but he knows this could throw the man off, so he only approaches when you separate for a moment, and when he comes back to you the outcome is obvious in his face
From there it's just a few days before the three of you are in bed together, you sandwiched between two very different men
It's a stark contrast, Sae and his methodical, cool and collected domming style, and Shidou who is chaotic, loud, and even kinda sadomasochistic
They can both go for multiple rounds, and it's good that Shidou is a switch, cause Sae isn't switching, so when on one round the two are fighting for dominance - or on some occasions cooperating - on the other Shidou is happy to let Sae just take the reins
They are both very skilled, tho, and when they work together, they are a menace, very quick to drive you crazy
You'll end up dead tired, mindless from all the pleasure, and with more than a few marks on your body
It's an experience, for sure, but a good one tho, and maybe it could be more in the future, who knows?
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xstarkillerx · 11 months
Text
Trying desperately to stay a Star Wars blog while I'm being plagued with Brian O'Conner whimpering and panting, while you gently bite his neck. He puts his hand on the back of your head, curling his fingers in your hair, trying desperately not to pull too hard but it feels too fucking good headcanons 🧍
Brian O'Conner in the driver's seat of (yet another) busted up Skyline you had to help him push to the garage after surviving another one of Tej's "surprises." You on top, slowly sinking down on his thick cock while he looks up at you like you hung every star in the sky. Heavy lidded, lips parted, "Take it baby, it's yours, take what you need take what you— fuck. ride me just like that, just like that Mami," breathy and only growing more incoherent as he gets closer and closer to cumming headcanons 😕
Brian O'Conner trailing kisses down the line of your body, lips, neck, chest, stomach, thighs, bringing himself to his knees in front of you. He hooks his hands behind your thighs and guides you to sit on his pretty face, his eyes sparking, lips wet, hands gripping your ass while he eats you so fucking good. He pulls you down when he feels you hovering, locks his arms when it gets too much and you try to squirm away, he won't stop until you can't stay upright headcanons 🫣
Brian O'Conner driving at illegal speeds with one hand on the wheel, the other knuckles deep inside you. It isn't enough to cum by the time you arrive, the car's too fast, the angle's too awkward, but that isn't his goal anyway. He loves knowing that wherever you guys arrive at, you're gonna be wet and desperate for him the entire time. Loves smelling you on his fingers every time he inconspicuously swipe under his nose headcanons🥲
I'm plagued with images I tell you, riddled with them, cure me I'm begging you
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loganbcrnes · 1 year
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Hello! I have an idea for a Logan x F reader story. I’ve always thought it’d be funny if Logan got so worked up while doing the deed and he breaks the bed frame and both him and the reader laugh it off in good fun.
So sorry it took so long to write this! Enjoy!
Pairing: Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x fem!reader
Requested: yes
Warnings: smut, 18+, little bit of praise, daddy kink, hard sex, jealousy, bed gets broken, possessiveness (not toxic), body type & ethnicity isn't mentioned.
Word count: 1,662
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“I was NOT flirting with him! How many times do I need to tell you that?” you scolded. “Don’t act stupid, I saw you laughing with him.” Logan grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
“So what?, I work with him Lo, he just said something funny. I can’t believe you’re assuming such…thoughts, and I’m not stupid!” You look up at him. By now, you were getting annoyed. Daniel was…nice, but he was also a creep that didn’t understand you were not interested, not that were you available anyways.
“I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat” Logan had a fixed glare on his face as he kept driving. You sighed and reached your hand onto his thigh, feeling the tight muscles clench. “You know I love you, you’ve got nothing to be jealous about, maybe you shouldn't have been so busy talking to your buddies” Leaning back towards the window. Logan sucked in a breathe, he turned to face you and let out a scowl whilst shaking his head.
“Wait until we get back home Princess, I’ll show you who you belong to.” Logan grumbled darkly. You let out a quiet gasp, he words he uttered sent shocks right to your core. you loved it when Logan got possessive.
————
Logan walks into the bedroom carrying you with your legs wrapped around his waist. He places you onto the bed. "Strip down to your panties and lay down with your head over the edge," He commands, to which you immediately comply. He stands behind you while you look up at him, anticipating his next order. “What do ya’ want, Bub? Hmm? Want me to touch ya’? Fuck ya’ hard enough until your crying for me to stop? Is that what’chu want?” he caressed his thumb against your cheek. “Yes, please, daddy. I promise I’ll be good.” You begged, your breathe shaking. Logan hummed in consideration. “I really didn’t like that jerk talking to you..gonna show ya’ who ya’ belong to, bub.” His voice was so calm, it made your heart beat so fast. You watched as Logan walked to the bedside table to take out some lube, he place it beside you head. "Put your hand down your panties," Logan orders, his eyes scanning your body. "Rub that little pussy for me. Just like you were doing this morning." With a deep breath, you slip your hand past your underwear, before finding your throbbing clit and rubbing small, quick circles onto it. You watch Logan as he stripped out of his checked shirt. You bite your lip, relishing the view of his muscled body on display just for you, only you. It made your clit throb even harder to the point it nearly hurt. "That's my girl," He mumbles, your heart skipping a beat at the praise, before the delicious sound of his belt buckle opening fills your ears. "I'm giving you what you want, but you gotta give daddy what he wants too, bub." He takes out his hard thick cock and brings it to your lips. You suck on the mushroom head, twirling your tongue over the slit. You hear Logan groan. Not bothering with letting you slowly adjust and instead pushing it into your mouth. His balls touches your chin when his tip hits the back of your throat. He quickens the pace and begins fucking your face. Small whimpers escape around his cock as you continue playing with yourself. He leans down squeezing your tit and pinching your nipple between his fingers. "That's it, keep going," He says, letting out a groan. "Keep rubbing that pussy like the dirty whore you are. Get so wet just from sucking on daddy's cock, huh? Fucking choke on it, Princess, that's a good girl." Logan loves the sight of your drool spilling out your mouth and pouring up your cheeks, where it meets your tears. His precum mixes in with your saliva, coating your skin while you continue to gag on his big dick. You rub your clit faster, feeling your pleasure build up. "Make yourself cum," He orders gravely, fucking your throat harder. "Now." His gruff command pushes you to the edge and soon you're cumming all over your own fingers, whining onto his cock. You shudder a little, gasping when he pulls his cock out of your mouth. “Good girl.” He praises you. “Now, get on your back and spread your legs.” You do as he’s told not wanting to waste any more time. Logan squirts lube onto his cock, making wet noises as strokes himself, tightening his grip at the base as he watches you spread your legs, your throbbing cunt on display. Logan’s powerful body casts a shadow over you. He stands there in all of his glory, stroking his wet cock and just watching you. he seemed intimidating, like the deadly man you knew he was, who’s killed hundreds of people. He looked threatening in a way that made your arousal flood your senses.
Climbing over you so that his face was level with your stomach, he spoke low now, his voice tight and thick with lust, you felt his words deep inside, as the hunger pooled between your thighs. He followed up your stomach with hot trailing, kisses. ‘Mmm, how do you want it baby?’ He asked quietly, “…Want me to mark ya’ all up?” kiss You were groaning now, squirming beneath him and his stubble and sideburns tickled your skin. He reached your neck, nipping it then grinned salaciously into your hooded eyes. “Please, daddy.” You mewled. “Or you want me to fuck you rough and wild, baby? The animalistic fucking you love so much? The way that has you screaming my name? Or do I draw it out? Touch you nice and slow until you’re trembling under my hands? Begging for my cock? Even I don’t think I have the patience for that tonight.” Jesus, you moaned and gasped, bucking your hips to him, his cock rubbing against your clit, desperate for some sort of touch, grinding your body into his, silently begging him to take you. He was so good at this stupid teasing game, it wasn’t fair to play any more, you craved more than just his words, as dirty as they were. “Please…I swear to God, Logan” you growled, wanting nothing more than his thick cock inside of you.
Logan chuckled darkly, he leaned back to line up the tip of his cock at your gaping entrance. Roughly he thrusts into you not leaving you with any time to get used to his size. No matter how many times he fucks you, you’re always as tight as you were when he took your virginity. "Oh fuck yeah…daddy!" "The only reason I’m giving ya’ the satisfaction of my cock without any punishment" He hissed through gritted teeth, "…is because I can see your fuckin’ desperate for it princess, taking my cock so well, huh?" "It feels so good…ungh…fuck, exactly like that Lo, harder!" He was moving faster over you, working your body into a frenzy punctuating his words with heavy thrusts. he sucks on your nipples, sending shocks down to your core due to the sensitivity. His balls slap hard against you, you had totally lost control, practically screaming for him to go deeper, to take you body and soul, give you the orgasm you craved and end the madness that was this constant sleeplessness, hardly the serene picture of feminine dignity. The bed frame clashes against the wall with each brutal thrust. He takes a hold of the bed frame with one hand while his other grips your waist tight, leaving bruises. Without warning, the bed frame breaks, and Logan let's out a growl and throws the wood across the room, you gasp "Logan!-" You have no time to speak, because Logan sets up a fast pace once again. "Fuck, look at what you made me do, doll. God you feel amazing, made me break the fucking bed frame" He grunts when you squeeze around his cock. "Logan, god, I'm so close, please don't stop" You yelped, the broken bed frame long forgotten. Logan changes position. He grips your legs and presses them against your chest. Slapping sounds make up the room, your breathing gets heavier. You claw at his biceps, seeing the hair dampen on his chest from the sweat. The thrusting is so brutal and nearly painful as he continues fucking into your cunt. You look down and watch his cock slide in and out of you. “See that darlin’? Your pussy was made for my cock, fits so perfectly.” He sucked on your neck, leaving marks that will be noticeable tomorrow. Logan moves his fingers downwards and begins to rub harsh circles on your already sensitive clit, making you whine. “Ah, ah, Logan” You scream, the sensation in your stomach you know so well, building up. Abruptly, Logan swapped positions with you on top, when suddenly there was a loud creak, and an even louder snap. The mattress fell to the floor at an angle, sending the two of you rolling to the floor. You screamed and fell on top of him. You began laughing wildly, covering your face as you rolled to your back. “Oh, my God,” you cried out. “I can’t believe you broke our bed!” “That wasn’t all me, sweetheart,” Logan growled, but chuckled shortly after, leaning on his elbows to look down at you. “It was mostly you,” you pointed out, your hand resting on his chest. He was on his side, peppering kisses on your forehead. “Couldn’t help myself, you felt so good.” You were still laughing. “I was about to have the best orgasm of my life, Logan! That bed was made from Asgardian oak, a gift from Thor!” Logan bit your neck. “Whatever, we’ll get a new one from Ikea” “’Ikea?” you burst out laughing, “Sure, we’ll have 50 broken beds by the end of the year and its October.” Logan moved to straddle you, pinning your arms above your head, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Hmmm, then what do you purpose we do then, doll?” “We could ask Tony if he has some vibranium to make a bed?” Logan chuckled at the suggestion and rolled his eyes. He leaned down, kissing you breathless before you could make another sound. “Why don’t we finish this off in the shower, hmm?” Logan suggested with dark smile. You could never resist that smile.
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aceyogurt · 27 days
Text
Part-time romance
Pairing: Vox x GN reader
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WC: 3k
A/n: PT ONE FINALLY UP WHOOOOOOOO…. This chapter is a lot of set up so no sexual tension yet sorry guys 😔, but I promise it’s still entertaining!
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Nine years you’ve been in hell, and frankly compared to others, it wasn’t the worst. When you first fell you were smart enough to gain a good understanding of hell and its system before falling into the system of power and soul exchanges. While the idea of selling your soul to an overload didn’t sound optimal, neither did being weak and likely killed in an extermination. That's why you decided to work under the contract as your best option for the time being, ten years you worked under Velvet, one of the Vee’s, and in exchange, you had protection and decent pay. Luckily you were smart enough to go over the fine print and not be a slave to them but, still, they had lots of power over you. You didn't work close to them in the beginning though so it worked out.
In your life, before the fall you were a high-positioned manager for a company. So, you had the appropriate knowledge to climb up the ladder quickly, scoring you higher pay and closer relations to the Vees. Velvet was the one who took an interest in you after you were recently promoted and met her in a meeting. She loved your sense of fashion and you guys hit off well.
So, now here you are working almost top of the ladder and friends with your boss, an overlord of hell, life was pretty nice! Well other than your love life… but let’s be real who has one in hell? Anyways you and Velvet were doing your weekly recap at a new bar and she was ranting about how much of a bitch Val was being. “And then that pissbaby fucking ruined my shoot” She stared at you for a moment snapping her fingers “Oi you listening to me? What's up with you? You never do this, out of it.” you sigh putting your phone down. “Sorry, we recently got some new hires and they've been driving me insane, plus a date I had yesterday sucked.” “I get you girl dealing with co-workers drives me insane too… As for your love life, you don't need one trust me, you're too hot for any mid-low life, plus men suck.” you laugh at her comment which was likely a means to cheer you up before, going back to the topic of Valentino ruining Velvet's shoot.
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“I told you before you gonna stress yourself out if you refuse to get some kind of assistance!” velvet protested at Vox. “Vel, I'll be fine, I'm capable of taking care of things myself. I don't understand why you are so prominent about this whole getting an assistant.” It takes everything in Velvet not to slap Vox right there as she looks at him like he's stupid, “I'm not saying you have to have someone do your work but, having someone to help you manage things would sure as hell help you not be so pissy all the time! I'm just trying to give you advice and it's like the wires in you start short-circuiting at the idea!” Vox sighs, pressing a hand across his screen before replying. “Look, as much as I appreciate you trying to help, I can handle it myself, getting an assistant will just create more work for me anyway. And I'd prefer to deal with the least amount of idiots possible since we have to deal with Val every day.” Velvet opens up her phone still talking to Vox, “You bloody right about the Piss Baby but, my point is what if we get you an assistant who isn't an idiot?” Vox raised an eyebrow “Got someone in mind” Velvet smiled already shooting a text to a certain someone, “of course” 
Velvet 💕
Cancel wtvr you’re doing I need to talk to u
You
Am I in trouble
???
Ok geez I'm coming 
“Took you long enough girl, I thought you weren't coming,” Velvet said leaning back in a nearby chair and scrolling on her phone, “well when you ask someone mid-workday to drop everything they're doing it takes them a minute to get somewhere,” you reply slightly annoyed as you sit down grabbing a bottle of water. “Yeah yeah, let's cut it to the point so I'm not wasting your precious time. Starting Tomorrow you'll be Vox’s assistant or whatever.” you choke on the water. “I'm sorry WHAT” asked a bit louder than necessary. Velvet rolls her eyes, placing her phone down, “Vox needs an assistant to help manage his shitstorm of a workload, and because he won't settle for just anyone I figured you'd be the perfect demon for the position. After all, you don't like your job now anyway so it's a win-win!” You slump down in your seat “How am I supposed to have my current job figured out in one day? It'll be a disaster and the whole team will fall apart!” Velvet shrugs “I wouldn't worry about it I'm sure a few demons can handle not having you around.” you decide not to argue with her and head back to your office.
The rest of the day you were stressed, trying to manage everything for your departure and making sure the team wouldn't fall apart. Getting home you almost immediately fell asleep not wanting to deal with anything else for the rest of the night.
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You woke up two hours earlier than you normally would, whether that was because you wanted to look good or because your nerves were getting to you. Anyways you decided on an outfit and took around an hour to do your makeup and such. Because you had extra time you decided to get some coffee on your way to work, then you headed to the office of the overlord you now work for. You only prayed he wouldn’t be upset about your earliness.
You knocked on the doors of a room that Vox was supposedly in, well it was the room Velvet told you to go to, the doors opened and you began to walk across the bridge that led to a huge TV panel-like area. Each step you took you felt your anxiety build for no particular reason, the echo of your footsteps with each step you took. When you get to the area where you assumed he’d be though, all that was placed was an empty chair. You were going to head back, “you showed up much earlier than Velvet said you were going to arrive.” holy shit you were not expecting him to be right behind you, you got frightened hard “fuck!” you shout before realizing what you said. Your boss ends up laughing at your slip-up, “Oh did I scare you, that's hilarious' ' You bit the inside of your cheek before apologizing, which Vox didn't care much for. He sat at his desk and stared at the screens in front of him, you were waiting for him to speak up but, it seemed you were going to need to make the first move.
“So, Sir, what would you like me to do…?” Vox takes a sip of his coffee staring down at his phone before blankly looking at you, “What- did Velvet not tell you anything?” you look back at him a bit embarrassed, “Not really no…” For the next tenish minutes or so, Vox grudgingly explained to you what he expected of you, which ultimately wasn't a whole lot. You knew he had other assistants in the past to just help with managing his schedule but, when Velvet told you about this job you didn't think it'd be this… But hey, surely over time it'd get better right?
Two weeks later
Yeah, are things getting better? Hell no, the first week was fairly smooth and basic the next week though you and Vox began to talk more, and god was he egotistical. You guys were constantly getting into debates with one another which usually started with you gently criticizing Vox and his decision-making on affairs but, it'd quickly spiral into you guys changing topics into how much the other sucked. Yet despite that, he hadn't fired you yet… Or worse. 
Vox was going to be coming in later than usual today because of this meeting he had scheduled with the other Vees so as any normal sinner would do, you just waited at Voxs desk, knowing he was going to come late and you sat in the chair he usually occupied. Was it a bad idea, sure but what the worst that could happen? You were working on some scheduling and afterward scrolled on your phone, and being plagued by boredom you fell asleep.
Vox was on his way after finishing a ‘productive’ meeting with the other Vees which ended up being Vox stopping Valentino from one of his meltdowns, over who knows what. Being drained he just wanted to recharge and figured he’d just have you take care of any events he would need to attend. While he was initially planning to get rid of you the first chance you get because he wasn’t exactly a fan of someone being this close to him for work. Having high expectations of others wasn’t exactly something Vox had, with
 good reason, well somewhat, those reasons get overshadowed by his inflated ego. 
Quickly though you did end up growing on Vox as an employee, he wasn’t exactly sure what it was about you but, after giving it some thought, he figured it was the fact you were a breath of fresh air instead of the sinners he normally employed. While your attitude he did find absurd sometimes, it was manageable for him since you never stepped too much out of place… You were still more professional than 90% of sinners and overlords he worked with, and you had some brains in your head which again, was something most in hell lacked (probably because the brains they had were fried after the copious amount of drugs they take.)
As Vox was heading towards his desk he heard… snoring? No that couldn’t be right, but as he poked his screen around in view of his chair there you were, fast asleep. Vox did find the fact you fell asleep in his chair funny but, at the same time, he needed to recharge and didn’t want to put up with anyone, including you right now. That being said, it was easy enough for Vox to conjure up another chair he could recharge in for the time being while you were sleeping. If it was any other circumstances Vox probably would’ve yelled at you for the audacity you had to sit and sleep in his chair, instead of working but, that was for another day. For now, Vox just wanted a break…
When you awoke you were greeted by a sight you never expected to see, Vox asleep..? While you were just realizing the situation in yourself still, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Even though the situation itself wasn’t what you’d call funny, it was the idea that he fell asleep ironic because, from what you had seen and experienced, Vox was more of a workaholic so being asleep was unlike him. 
You took a picture of this moment to show Velvet later when you meet up knowing she’d want to see it herself. The most bizarre thing to you was the fact when Vox was indeed asleep that he would have one of those DVD-type logos bounce around his screen, except this was of The Vee’s logo. While Vox was asleep you thought about how you should be productive but, you didn’t feel the urge to be doing such as of now. What you did feel an urge to do is snoop around your boss's desk and see what you could find. Honestly, you didn’t wish to find anything incriminating (not that it would matter) you were just interested in the overload behind closed doors, and who could blame you? 
You started with poking around the general surface area which is when you made the realization you never truly allowed yourself to be familiar with your surroundings. It was spotless with not even a particle of dust occupying the space, but to the sides of the desk, three drawers stacked on one another worked as structural support. You had checked the right side first, and to your disappointment, there was nothing of interest to be found inside. Just some extra wires and such, what’d you expect? When opening the first drawer on the left though that disappointment quickly blossomed into curiosity. 
A photo of the radio demon laid flat on it, while at initial glance it might seem ordinary the more you observed it, the more that curiosity inside you grew. To the right of the paper, it was very poorly torn, while most of the image was removed, there was a part that wasn’t removed that grew your curiosity once more, an edge of the TV screen seemed to occupy the space, an older model to be clear, this photo was old. You didn’t take Vox to be exactly the sentimental type, so why would he keep such a thing? You wanted to ask him to figure out this seemingly tragic history but, a hollow pit grew in the back of your stomach because, you knew you couldn’t ask about it, for one you wouldn’t know how he would react and that kind of questioning goes way beyond your relationship with the overlord, and secondly you knew for a fact Vox wouldn’t take kindly to snooping, especially if it was something personal like you suspected. You set the photo back into the drawer the way you found it and decided that it was about time you stopped procrastinating and working.
Vox had awoken a few hours after yourself, his screen slowly adjusted to the setting around him, his vision beginning to turn on. He was greeted with the sight of you, still in his chair, working at his desk. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable” You didn't even bother seeming scared as you hummed, “Yeah, I figured since you were asleep I'd take advantage to work more efficiently.” Vox chucked “Effectively work, sure, whatever you say.” the dripping sarcasm caused you to let out a laugh of your own, “Yep, efficient working is important!~” he nodded in agreement amused by your attitude. While this kind of behavior would usually piss him off you didn't do it to try to come off better than him or cocky. 
The rest of the workday went by quickly with you and Vox both having your affairs to deal with, so you only had a small chat here and there. Getting home you slip off your shoes and switch to some comfier clothing. As you were settling down a call appeared on your phone with Velvet’s contact showing up.
“Hey girl how's it going?” Velvet inquired in her usual tone. “Absolutely exhausted Vel, I just got home and can't wait to head to bed.” the conversation went on for a little while longer before you remembered the photo you took earlier today that you wanted to show Velvet. “Oh yeah I forgot to show you, look at this.” you share on your screen as the photo was earlier taken of Vox fast asleep, as you giggled at the photo once more Velvet was kind of shocked. It's not that she had never seen Vox asleep before, or looking as silly as he was at that moment but, the fact he so openly had done it while you were still present was shocking to her. Vox wasn't exactly the type of overlord that'd let anyone see him so normal. His whole persona was a perfect entity with no need for things other sinners might lust for. Yet he so openly broke that persona and you didn't even seem to notice! Velvet played along though figuring she’d inquire about the matter to Vox at a later date. 
“Hah, yeah he always looks like that when he sleeps it's hilarious girl.” Velvet soon ended the call because she had ‘matters to attend to’ leaving you in the silence of your loneliness. 
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“Vox get in here now!” Vox unamused musters his best-interested tone making his way to her, “Whatever could be the problem, my dear?” Velvet then hummed, completely changing her tone with a more sinister undertone, “I just wanted to ask how work has been all” Vox's grin drops, “and since when have you been one for work talk?” Velvet shrugs, “Since when could I not check up on how a friend is doing Vox, after all, you haven’t told me how things have been with your new assistant.” Vox chuckles refilling his coffee mug. 
“They’re better than I expected them to be, it’s nice to know some sinners still have any kind of intelligence.” praise wasn't something that was easily given by an overlord such as Vox so Velvet hearing him acknowledge you in a way that wasn't completely condescending made her even more invested. “Is there anything else you need to bug me with, or can I go?” Before she could ask or say anything else Vox was already on his way. (Workaholic bastard-)
While Vox was a bit interested in why Velvet was so curious about your guy's relationship, he also had better things to do than try to understand Velvet’s mind. Right as Vox had gotten you out of his head a notification from your number came through, it was only the changed schedule for tomorrow though. Why would it be anything else though you are just his assistant, nothing more. That being said, why didn’t Vox dislike you, I mean usually whenever Vox has an assistant of some kind they’re not nearly as involved with his work life as you were yet they managed to agitate him much faster than you had. He wrote it off though as you being recommended by Velvet made him have a more positive impression of you. Even if it was something else he didn't care he needed to deal with the Radio Demon being back in town.
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suzukiblu · 5 months
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currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D
I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.
Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name. 
Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.
It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else? 
Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide. 
He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.
“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time. 
Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.
“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies. 
“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.” 
“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.” 
“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling. 
“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says. 
“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?” 
“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.
Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.
Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.
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lucy90712 · 9 months
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Can you do a pedri x gf!reader imagine where she’s with him during all of The Residency shoot & sees that the girl social media worker has been getting a little too close for comfort. Gf tries to stay calm the whole time until she finally snaps & then she thinks pedri is gonna be upset at her but he’s actually really turned on by the fact that she’s territorial of him
A/n: I changed it up a bit as I don’t usually write stuff like this so I hope it’s ok
WC: 2.1k
Yesterday afternoon Pedri asked me to go with him to his shoot with the residency today because he gets a bit awkward when on camera so he wanted me to be there so there was a familiar face in the room. Of course I agreed to go as I always love spending time with him and I think it's sweet that he wants me there but I'm definitely a little bit nervous too. I have always been really anxious about meeting new people so to be in a room full of them is a bit nerve wracking for me but I am going to be there for Pedri and I'm sure everything will be fine.
This morning Pedri had training which he brought me to as well because we had to go to the shoot right after. I haven't been to one of his training sessions in a long time so it was nice to see the whole team as I get on with them all really well. Getting to talk to the guys before we had to leave relaxed me as I remembered meeting them all and being so nervous but I survived and now we are all good friends so I will be fine with meeting the crew for the shoot. They all knew where we were going so they told us to have fun and Robert told me to make sure I enjoy myself as he knows how anxious I get. Pablo also sent me a smile which didn't need any words with it as I knew what he was trying to say. 
On the drive Pedri kept me talking about anything other than the shoot and he held my hand tightly to keep me distracted which he is very good at. Once we arrived the crew all came outside to greet us and Pedri got out the car first to say hi before opening my door for me and introducing me to everyone. My anxiety faded quite quickly as everyone was so lovely and they were more interested in Pedri which meant I was able to just blend into the background and take some time to calm down. We all went inside and Pedri got his hair done while someone else explained everything they would be doing which started off with a live stream and then they wanted him to film some TikToks which I just know Pedri will hate. 
"Amor do you want to be on camera?" Pedri asked 
Our relationship is semi public so people know we are together but we don't often post with each other only on special occasions. Most pictures of us together are taken by other people as I don't like to put myself out there too much as I only ever get hate anyway. So being part of a live stream isn't really up my alley but I don't mind if I'm seen in the background.
"I would prefer to not be but I don't mind being seen in the background" I said 
"Thats ok we can keep you out of shot" one of the men there said 
"Thank you" I said 
Once Pedri was ready they got everything up and started the live stream so I sat out of the shot but somewhere were I could still see what was going on. Things started off simply as they got Pedri to play some fifa which he does a lot at home so that made him more relaxed and I could tell he was starting to really enjoy himself. Whenever he scored he looked over in my direction to see my reaction like he does when we are at home so I gave him a big smile which he returned. After the game they made him do karaoke which even I've never seen before as he refuses every time we go out, it was so hard not to laugh at him but I held back my laughter as not to disrupt anything. 
The next thing on the list was a Q&A but most of the questions were things I've heard him answer a million times so I kind of lost focus and started paying attention to other things. As I was doing so I noticed the girl that's part of the team getting rather close to Pedri. I'm used to seeing things like this as fans quite often get close to Pedri or other girls when we go out places but they never go too far so it doesn't really bother me. This girl however was already getting on my nerves as she was constantly staring at him like not taking her eyes off of him. She was also sat really close to Pedri and I could tell he was feeling uncomfortable with her so close but she didn't take the hint, if anything she got closer to him. 
Now that I've noticed it I have found myself constantly looking and getting more annoyed by the second. The girl then touched his hand which he instantly moved out the way but I could feel the jealousy and anger coursing through my veins. I'm not one for confrontation in fact I would usually do anything to avoid it but this girl was really getting on my nerves. She was touching my man right in front of my face without a care in the world which is driving me insane. I know Pedri would never even entertain this on any normal day but today he can't do anything without looking like an asshole in front of thousands of fans on the livestream which is so unfair as this girl is definitely taking advantage of that. If it were possible there would definitely be steam coming out of my ears but it's not so instead I can feel my cheeks heating up in anger. 
Eventually after what felt like hours of torture the livestream ended and Pedri was finally able to escape that girl and come over to where I was sat. He sat next to me and put his arm loosely around my waist which made me feel a whole lot better. As much as I hate what this girl is doing Pedri has done nothing wrong and I need to remember that he loves me not this other girl. Having him by my side made me feel so much better as all of his attention was on me and not on that other girl and he was telling me how he is actually willing to do karaoke with me now. We were having a good time and he was just about to kiss me when the girl came over and rudely interrupted by telling Pedri that they had to get back to filming now. He whispered that he was sorry and the look in his eyes told me that he felt bad but it didn't stop the anger building up in me again. 
She dragged him away from me and outside so I had to follow behind and find somewhere to sit but everywhere I went to sit she made someone move to get in my way. In the end I gave up and just sat on my phone but I made sure to keep an eye on what was going on as I'm no fool so I'm not taking my eyes off that girl. Having my eyes on her made absolutely no difference as she was getting more and more touchy by the second. Instead of just asking Pedri to move to where he was needed she put her hands on his chest and I swear I saw her drag her hand down his abs but that could just be the jealousy taking over.
The longer I was sat there watching the more I felt like I had to do something. My last boyfriend cheated on me because I was too soft and I just let him go out with all these girls because I trusted him but I'm not going to let that happen again. I trust Pedri I really do but I'm not going let some girl take advantage of that he's my boyfriend and she needs to be respectful of that and leave him alone. As they were filming I was thinking about all the outrageous things I could do to put this girl in her place most of which were absolutely crazy and would probably get me arrested and definitely ruin Pedri's reputation but then I thought of a great idea that wasn't too much but got my message across. 
As if the world was reading my mind they stopped filming to take a quick break, I didn't need telling twice so I put my plan into action. I got myself up and wandered over to Pedri with a level of sass I don't think I've ever reached before in my life but it felt great. I walked straight over to Pedri and put my hand on his chest as I stood in front of him which took him by surprise as I don't think I've ever acted like this in my life let alone around him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the girl was staring at the both of us so I put the rest of my plan into action and got on my toes to kiss Pedri. He was still in shock so I was able to kiss him more passionately which helped me release some of the anger I was feeling and it was definitely annoying the girl which is a huge bonus. 
After I pulled away Pedri smiled at me and pressed another kiss to my lips before the girl said they were going to start filming again so I walked away and went back to my position on the outside chair. As I sat down my rush of adrenaline dissipated and along with it went all the extra confidence I had just gathered leaving me feeling awful about what I just did. I'm really not one to do something like that and I'm not really sure why I did it, I mean it's not like Pedri was paying any attention to this girl and we won't ever see her again so it doesn't matter if she was touchy or not. Guilt flowed through my body as I realised that in the heat of the moment I made a stupid decision that probably doesn't paint me in the best light if someone were to tell the story without my side. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion and I can't believe I let myself get carried away with it Pedri probably thinks I'm some psycho now as he's never seen me act in such a way in the whole time we've known each other. 
For the rest of the shoot I just sat quietly letting my thoughts take over so when it was finally time for us to leave I politely thanked all the crew and said goodbye before getting out of there as quickly as humanly possible. I was silent on the drive home too as I was still feeling bad about overreacting like that and trying to think of what I could say to Pedri to apologise for embarrassing him in front of a brand he works with. When we arrived home I went straight inside to start making dinner as I feel like I need to do something nice for Pedri to help him forgive me for acting like a crazy woman. 
"Amor is everything ok?" Pedri asked
"Yeah everything's fine" I replied bluntly 
"Come on I know somethings up you were so quiet on the drive home, if it's that girl I promise I would've done more to push her away if I could but I only love you you know that right" he said 
"It's not that I feel awful for acting the way I did" I admitted 
"What do you mean?" He asked 
"The way I kissed you just to get her to back off I shouldn't have done that because it just makes you look bad but I just got so carried away with my jealousy that I couldn't stop myself I'm sorry" I said 
"There's no need to be sorry baby you didn't do anything wrong you just kissed me which you're allowed to do plus I thought it was hot the way you wanted to show her I'm yours" he said 
"Really you didn't think it was too much" I questioned 
"No I loved it you're so hot when you get jealous plus that kiss was amazing 10/10 I might have to make you jealous again so you'll kiss me like that" he joked 
"Please don't do that I can kiss you like that without being jealous" I said 
"Well go on then" he smirked 
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