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perotovar · 2 months

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baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 2) "session two"

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pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4.3k content: use of a plug, throat fucking, ass eating, lots of spit, gratuitous descriptions of cum, unprotected p in a, creampie, (safe) breathplay, background handjob, cock slapping, one (1) spank, joel's porn persona is a tad mean but it's nothing crazy, shy!joel, javi is a HUGE flirt, smoking, lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics betas: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily angels ♥)

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

series masterlist | shoutout to this spanish dirty talk reference

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary ♥

“Fuck.”

Javier hadn’t had to prepare in a while. At least a few months. And the fact that he was doing this for Joel, of all men? He was harder than a fucking rock and he hadn’t even gotten the plug all the way in yet. Granted, he’d purposely chosen a smaller plug so he could still feel the stretch when Joel pushed that thick–

“Mierda,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder to see if he could get a better angle. The plug he chose was small, black, and a little thinner than he would normally go for. It’s been a while, so no matter what, there was a stretch but the lube certainly helped. When his hole finally sucked it in lewdly, he moaned, arching his back like a cat presenting himself to a mate. He grinned to himself and rested his head on his folded arms, ass in the open air of his apartment.

He wished that his first major scene with Joel wasn’t a scene. He wanted to see if Joel was any different when the cameras weren’t on and he could just be himself. Every time he’s ever talked to Joel, he’d been quiet, with a heavy brow. Javier had been around the block once or twice and he could tell when someone didn’t like him. He’s not sure what he did to get on Joel’s bad side, but he hoped that tension added to the scene instead of making things awkward. And part of him liked the rift. It made Joel way more attractive to him, because Joel was probably the closest the site had to a bear, but not as big. Javier had always wanted to be fucked by one–

Bzz. Bzz.

Cracking open an eye, Javier looked as his phone lit up next to him. He sighed and started rolling his hips side to side, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled up again.

R u ready ?

“Who still texts like this, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled to himself. A slow trickle of sweat fell down the length of his back as he started typing a response.

Be there shortly, boss.

Javier rolled his eyes to himself. Max was always on his ass about being on time, but it never bothered him. They couldn’t start the shoot without him anyway. His cock throbbed between his legs, making him curl his fingers around his shaft.

One quick wank couldn’t hurt right?

Joel was panicking, to put it mildly. He showed up to the shoot way too fucking early and now he was rocking a semi in the hallway outside the room they’d be using. They, meaning him and Javier, because of course he hadn’t fully processed that that was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Javier’s mouth around his cock, that mustache framing it so perfectly. Or his hole being stretched by Joel’s cock, or even–

“Hey, big guy.”

The words sounded like they were coming from down the hall and directly in his ear simultaneously. He slowly looked up to find Javier smirking down at him. Joel swallowed around a lump in his throat and cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Javier looked really fucking good – when didn’t he – with a healthy glow and slightly tousled hair. Had he freshly cleaned up his mustache this morning?

“Joel?” Javier chuckled, a soft smile coloring his features.

Joel cleared his throat again and stood awkwardly. “S-sorry, uh, hey,” he mumbled, looking down at his boots before keeping his eyes off of Javier’s, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where ya been?”

It was meant to be casual conversation, he swears, but he’d lowered his voice and it came out all gruff and accusatory and now he wants to hide in the broom closet. He knows this because the easy, relaxed look on Javier’s changed to one of confusion.

“Uh, preparing. Sorry, I know I was a little later than usual,” Javier exhaled. Guess he was right; Joel wasn’t the biggest fan of his. That’s fine, he was a professional and he could get his job done and go home. “See you in there, hombre.”

Joel blinked a couple times, looking at the empty area of the hallway where Javier was just standing. “W-wait,” he grunted, looking toward the room. Javier was digging into the pocket of the robe he was wearing and lighting up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the face of the assistant he was talking to.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel grumbled to himself and stepped inside.

Javier wasn’t opposed to an audience per se, but he wasn’t expecting one today either. “What are you cabrones doing here?” He smirked, looking at the faces of his coworkers. Not all of them were here, but Dieter, Shane, Dave, Marcus, Din, Steve, Cobb, and Jack were. Everyone was in various positions of comfort, some sitting and some standing or leaning. Except Dieter, who was sitting on Din’s lap comfortably, resting his head on the bulkier man’s shoulder.

“Wanted to see the show, of course,” Dieter grinned, winking at him. Joel stepped onto the set and saw all the men. He gave Dieter a look, and Dieter responded with a softer smile as if to say, You got this.

Javier rolled his eyes and smiled. “Alright, whatever, you perverts.”

“Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a longer one ahead of us and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Everyone froze and looked at Max like he grew a third eye.

Max frowned. “It’s not that rare– Y’know what, fuck you guys. Joel, Javi, get into position,” he grumbled, sitting in his director’s seat.

Javier looked at Joel and snorted, untying his robe. He threw it to their audience like they were a bunch of fans, and laughed when Marcus caught it. Javier winked at him, making the slightly younger man’s cheeks flush.

Joel was doing his damndest not to bust a fucking nut right now because obviously Javier was naked. That was his fucking job. That was his fucking job, too.

“Joel,” Dieter whispered. Joel looked at him, a slightly panicked look on his face. Dieter motioned for Joel to come over to him, so the older man did. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” Dieter asked quietly. Joel looked at Din wearily, who just smiled politely. “Oh, he’s not gonna say anything,” Dieter smiled, leaning over to give Din a quick kiss.

“‘M just,” Joel sighed. “Think he thinks I don’ like him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dieter pouted. When Joel didn’t answer right away, Dieter furrowed his brows at him. “Did you do that grumbly thing you always do?”

Joel mumbled under his breath and looked down at his boots.

“Miller! Get in frame,” Max barked.

Joel sighed and ruffled Dieter’s hair a little. “Showtime.”

Javier felt like his throat was on fire, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was having a hard time breathing. Joel’s cock felt so thick and hard inside his mouth and he was more turned on than he’d been in a long fucking time.

“Yeah, shut ya up real good, huh?”

Javier moaned weakly, big brown eyes glassy as they looked up at Joel’s hard face. He choked every time the head of Joel’s cock hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t give a damn. This was probably the messiest head he’d ever given someone, slobber pouring out the sides of his mouth and down Joel’s shaft.

Joel’s lines had instructed him to tell Javier to keep his hands to himself, so of course he obeyed. He dug the blunt nails of his fingers into his bare thighs so hard he was afraid that he’d break skin.

“Ain’t such a brat now that y’got a cock in your mouth, huh?” Joel sneered, tugging on Javier’s thick locks. Joel’s eyes were glued to Javier’s plump, swollen lips wrapped so tightly around his cock, that perfectly trimmed mustache framing them so beautifully. A full body shiver zipped down his spine when he saw the glossed over look in Javier’s eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. He shut his eyes in bliss and exhaled heavily as his hips moved of their own accord, his heavy balls slapping Javier’s chin lewdly.

Javier let out a low noise, his brows furrowing slightly. Joel looked down, worried he’d pushed too far, but saw that Javier was looking up at him with this fucking look in his eye. Even if Joel was technically in charge, at least in the script, he knew Javier had him hook, line, and sinker right now. And he thinks Javier knows that, too.

Joel’s hips bucked at the twinkle in Javier’s eye, making Javier choke loudly. Slowly, Joel removed his cock from Javier’s swollen mouth. Loud, wet coughs left Javier’s lips, but he looked at Joel with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, old man,” Javier rasped, sweat dripping down his neck.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’ya?” Joel grumbled. His cock throbbed heavily between thick, muscled thighs and Javier couldn’t take his eyes off it. The twitching made his own cock weep at the sight. “S’what I thought,” Joel hummed, harshly gripping Javier’s hair again. He curled thick fingers around the base of his cock and lewdly slapped the head against Javier’s tear-stricken face.

Javier’s entire body shivered at the demeaning act and he bit his lip, looking at the hard lines in Joel’s face, and at the gray streaks in Joel’s hair. He was easily one of the most menacingly beautiful men he’d ever seen. He kissed and licked and sucked down the shaft of Joel’s cock until he sucked one of his heavy balls into his mouth. He moaned happily around the sensitive skin and looked back up at Joel through his lashes.

“Fuck me,” Joel groaned, breaking character slightly. He couldn’t fucking help it. Not when Javier was looking at him like that.

Javier made an approving sound and lewdly popped the ball out of his mouth, kissing up Joel’s soft, hairy stomach. “That’s my line,” he improvised with a grin, and sucked a dark mark into Joel’s hip.

Joel almost smiled, but at the last moment, remembered they were in fact not alone and had a script to follow. He quickly hardened his eyes and gripped Javier’s arms and manhandled him until Javier was laying over the arm of the couch, cock trapped between his body and the scratchy fabric.

“That what y’want, huh?” Joel grunted, gripping Javier’s ass in a bear paw. “Want me t’fuck this little ass until ya can’t walk no more?”

Javier moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass further into Joel’s hand and tried to grind against his cock. He nodded as much as he could with Joel pulling on his hair like he was, throat bared and panting hard. Joel pressed on Javier’s sweaty back to keep him down, before using both hands to slowly spread his cheeks. He groaned at the puckered little hole, carefully covered in lube from his earlier preparation. Pressing there with the pad of his thumb, he smirked when Javier moaned weakly below him.

“P-please, Joel,” Javier breathed heavily. Javi didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. He’d been built up too much and poked and prodded enough that he just needed something inside him already. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Joel hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it. He removed his hands from Javier to finally remove the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. He could’ve sworn he heard someone from their little audience groan as his naked body was revealed, but he chose to ignore it, far too focused on the sight in front of him. “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly, his tone fake-sweet, and collected saliva in the back of his throat. He got down to his knees, thankful that the pillow there would be out of frame in the finished product. He spit directly onto Javi’s hole and gripped the small, plump cheeks in both hands.

Javier gasped weakly, legs trembling under Joel’s ministrations. Joel was going to fucking kill him.

“Not yet, at least,” Joel mumbled, biting one of Javier’s cheeks before licking a thick stripe up from Javier’s taint to the top of his hole. A breathless huff left Javier’s lungs and his eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Y’mouth makes such pretty noises when ya ain’t runnin’ it,” was all the warning Javier had before Joel’s tongue pierced his hole and started fucking him in earnest.

Joel’s tongue was thick and wet and messy and he sucked loudly and slurped at a volume that should’ve been uncomfortable, but all Javier could do was moan and whimper, completely at Joel’s mercy. His eyebrows were downturned and his lips were parted in an obscene O, arms shaking as he held himself up on the couch. “Mm, fuck, J-Joel, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m–!” He was babbling and trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He barely heard anything over the roaring in his ears.

“No, you’re not,” Joel grumbled between the lewd feast he was enjoying, landing a harsh smack! against one of Javier’s cheeks. “Don’t come until I say ya do.”

Javier groaned and bit his lip, his trapped cock weeping and throbbing between his legs. “Mierda,” he panted, hanging his head low between his shoulders. He tried grinding against the scratchy fabric of the couch for some kind of friction, but to no avail.

Joel grunted into Javier’s ass, convinced that he could stay here for hours if he was allowed. When he pulled his face away, his eyes latched onto the fluttering little hole in front of him and hummed in satisfaction. As he stood, his knees whined and creaked in protest and hopefully, if Max were nice to him for once, he’d edit the sounds out.

Broad hands traveled up Javier’s heated skin, taking him all in as he panted heavily underneath the older man. He knew today would be good but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Maybe he should keep his distance from Joel more often, if this was the end result.

Joel was ecstatic on the inside, the memories of their first scene together coming back to him. He’d almost forgotten just how pliant and cat-like Javier could get if pushed enough. The sounds he made were like music to Joel’s ears, and he wished he could keep them in a bottle reserved just for himself.

He gripped Javier’s sides and manhandled him again until Javier was on his knees on one of the cushions and facing the back of the couch, hands planted on the back. Joel spread Javier’s cheeks again and hummed at the way the younger man clenched on instinct. He left Javier in that position for a second while he went over to an assistant off camera and grabbed some lube, making quick work of getting his cock thoroughly coated. He held Javier’s side, right where his ribs were, with one hand and gripped his cock with the other, grinding his shaft between Javier’s cheeks.

Javier cried out loud, electricity shooting through his body and settling as heat at the base of his spine.

Joel grinned, tapping the head of his cock against Javier’s hole before slowly, agonizingly so, pushed the thick head inside him. The air left Javier’s lungs as he froze, the pressure and the weight of being so thoroughly stretched overwhelming him. He grunted as Joel’s hips sat flush against his ass, breathing heavily as his arms trembled against the back of the couch. Joel stroked Javier’s flanks, letting him adjust for only a moment before he pulled out until just the head was left inside and slammed back inside.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck...” Javier moaned, his back arching.

“Aww, you’re alright,” Joel smirked. He hovered over Javier’s body, nearly covering him entirely with how much bulk there was. He curled an arm over Javier’s right shoulder and gripped onto the younger man’s left pec to press Javier’s back into his chest. He kissed along Javier’s shoulder and up his neck until he nibbled on Javi’s earlobe, moaning lowly as the younger man clenched around his shaft. “Y’gonna be good? Gonna let me fuck ya?”

“Sí, coño– Please, Joel,” Javier whined, resting his head on Joel’s shoulder and panting into the open air. “Por favor damelo.”

So Joel did. Before either of them knew it, Joel was fucking into Javier in earnest, his hips slapping against Javier’s ass obscenely. Javier was making the neediest little sounds, chanting Joel’s name like a prayer. Javier’s cock was hard as a rock and lewdly slapping against his skin with every one of Joel’s harsh thrusts.

Joel hid his face in Javier’s neck, panting hotly against the younger man’s already damp skin. With his right arm already wrapped around Javier’s torso, he gripped at Javier’s hip with his left hand, fingers digging into the (surprisingly) soft skin. Javier didn’t have a whole lot of fat on his body, but there was enough to ripple every time Joel jackhammered into him.

“F-fuck,” he gulped, lips parted and eyes half lidded. The pressure was building low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. “J-Joel, I’m–” His mouth was as dry as the desert. “I’m gonna come, I–”

Joel growled. Literally. He bit Javier’s cheek and growled. “Not yet. Jus’ a li’l longer,” he panted. He moved his hand from Javier’s pec to his throat, and carefully, expertly, squeezed the sides. They’d talked about doing this with Max and both had consented to it. They knew how to do it right.

Slowly, as Javier’s air supply was marginally cut off, a wide smile grew on his face. His eyes shut and he was smiling, biting his lip. He felt so fucking good. He wanted to do this again and this time wasn’t even over yet.

Joel must have noticed because he chuckled next to Javier’s ear, hips never letting up once. “Yeah? Feel good, sweetheart?”

Javier nodded as much as he could, nails digging into the shitty couch and pulling hard.

“Good boy,” Joel rumbled, slowing down his hips, but not letting up on how hard he was thrusting. Javier’s breath hitched with every one of Joel’s slow, measured thrusts. Joel’s hand slid from Javier’s hip down to curl around the younger man’s cock. It was like someone had poured ice cold water over Javier’s head, because the pressure was just what he’d needed.

“S-sí, sí, please, p-please,” Javier gasped, a tear falling from his eye.

“Fuck, look at ya,” Joel marveled, slowly stroking Javier’s cock teasingly. “Pretty as a god damn picture, sweetheart.”

Javier opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried looking at Joel for the first time since he was on his knees. When their eyes locked, Javier could have sworn that there was a different man behind Joel’s baby browns. Perhaps that was the real Joel, and not whoever was on camera. Not whoever had been avoiding him for the better part of two years. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Want ya t’come for me,” Joel breathed hotly against his face. Javier shivered all over and nodded as much as he could with Joel’s bear paw of a hand around his throat. “Can ya do that, sweetheart? Come for me.”

Javier grunted as Joel picked up the pace of his hips again, but this time with his other hand tightly gripped around his shaft. Joel teased the head with his thumb just as he slammed directly into Javier’s prostate over and over.

Javier cried weakly, one more tear falling from his eye, and came hard. Thick, creamy spurts of cum painted the set’s couch as Javier trembled with his release.

Joel held him close, their sweaty bodies sticking together as Joel thrust one, two, three more times and followed Javier over the edge. He came with a low roar buried into Javier’s neck and cock twitching violently in Javier’s ass.

The set was dead silent save for Joel and Javier’s heavy breathing. Max kept the camera rolling, stunned into silence for once.

Javier smiled to himself, eyes shut in bliss, and head resting on Joel’s shoulder. He clenched around Joel’s sensitive cock in little pulses. “Fuck me,” he croaked, voice wrecked.

Joel grunted at the overstimulation and gently held Javier’s hips as he slowly pulled out. Javier leaned forward against the back of the couch and pushed his ass out so the camera (and their audience) could see the thick cum trailing down his thighs. Joel’s hands rubbed Javier’s skin appreciatively at the sight, his cock giving one last valiant twitch.

“C-cut,” Max’s voice cracked, making him clear his throat. “Cut.”

In the corner, Dieter trembled and moaned weakly into Din’s neck as he came, Din’s thick fingers curled around his cock.

Javier turned his head back to look at Joel with a satisfied smile on his face. “Mind gettin’ me a towel, guapo?”

Joel’s cheeks flushed, completely out of character again. “‘Course,” he mumbled, slowly standing to ask one of the assistants for a towel.

“Jesus Christ, boys,” Max chuckled.

Javier hummed in agreement.

“That was… That was somethin’ else, Jav,'' Steve said, impressed.

They were both outside, having their usual post-shoot cigarette together. No matter if they’d done a scene together or separately, they always kept up the tradition. This time, though, Javier thought he’d need several cigarettes. And a bath.

“Thank you,” Javier grinned, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in weeks. He could swear that the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was completely gone. Maybe there was some truth to Silva’s back pain disappearing after certain sessions.

“S’pose ya don’t gotta tell me, since I saw it myself, but was it like you thought it’d be?” Steve chuckled.

Javier snorted in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette. “And then some.”

Din smiled gently down at Dieter, giving him a slow, soft kiss. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Dieter smiled wide and nodded giddily, getting on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Din’s neck one more time to give him another kiss. Joel could swear he saw hearts in his eyes.

Once Dieter came back over to Joel, he had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, just had to say goodbye.”

Joel smiled softly. “Don’ worry yourself over it. Y’all are cute together.”

“You think?” Dieter beamed. “We had a scene the other day and we just haven’t stopped texting, and– Oh my god, this isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”

Joel chuckled and followed Dieter into the hallway so the cleaning crew could get to work. Dieter scratched at his beard as he looked at Joel: he seemed lighter, with a healthy glow radiating off of him.

“Well?”

Joel cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets, shrugging a little. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, old man! That was fucking hot! I came so hard!”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Thank you.”

“So? You gonna ask him out? Or at least apologize for earlier?”

“Yeah, I will. And uh… Yeah, I plan to,” Joel sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t exactly know how I’m gonna do that, though…”

“Well, you better think of something quick!” Dieter whispered, pointing towards the end of the hall as Javier rounded the corner with Steve.

“Shit,” Joel whispered to himself. Dieter gave him a wink and thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction.

Javier had his regular clothes on again, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off him, enamored with how well they fit him. He may have just been inside the man, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey, Joel,” Javier smiled awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure where they stood outside of working together, so he tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“H-hey, Javier,” Joel said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again.

“Y’know, you’re the only one that doesn’t call me Javi,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Joel furrowed his brow. “‘M sorry. My mama always taught me an’ my baby brother it was more polite that way.”

“You have a baby brother?” Javier smiled.

“Uh…” Joel gulped. “Y-yeah. Tommy.”

Javier hummed in response, an amused look crossing his features. He’s slowly figuring Joel out, he thinks. “He just as handsome as you? Bet he is,” he flirted.

The tips of Joel’s ears went pink and he laughed around an awkward cough. “Nah. Don’ cut his hair enough to be respectable.”

“Mm, more to pull then,” Javier smirked.

Joel made a face, not wanting to think of his brother like that. “L-listen, uh. ’m sorry ‘bout earlier. Wasn’t right talkin’ to ya like that,” he mumbled, unable to look Javier in the eye just yet.

Every bit of tension Javier felt left his body in an instant. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Joel.”

Joel nodded, a shy smile on his face. “‘S good,” he said awkwardly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Javier pulled out his pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips. “Well, you built up quite the appetite in me, so I’m gonna go–”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” Joel blurted out. “N-now, maybe?”

Javier blinked a few times as a smile grew on his lips. “You’re asking me out? Gotta be honest, I thought you hated me, Joel.”

Joel snapped his eyes up at that, confusion all over his face. “What? No! I–” He sighed. “‘M no good at this,” he grumbled to himself. “’m sorry. Again.”

Javier chuckled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “‘s alright. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiled, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

“Yeah, guapo. You already got dessert, but dinner sounds great.”

#javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #narcos au #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #oaksfics

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painted-bees · 1 month

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Raf's amount of self awareness and the amount of time he spends analyzing himself in his own head seemed a little far fetched until I got to the part about his past relationships and how badly things went despite having started therapy back then. It makes a lot more sense that he didn't get to this level of awareness and grace until way later after years of working on himself. But I really want to know how his relationship with Margie might have gone if he was less aware?

Oh, fun question lmao Assuming he never sees his behavior as something that he needs to work on: I think Margie's impulse to be honest and straightforward, and to wear her emotions on her sleeves would still have likely gotten her past his defenses and into a close relationship. But the closer/more important someone becomes to Raf, the more and more reactive/mercurial/mean he'd get. Those close relationships--the ones he treasures most--are the ones that pose the highest level of danger. They're the ones who'd hurt him the most if they betrayed him. Coupled with Margie's conflict-averse instinct to wilt, roll over, and apologize before considering if she'd even done anything wrong--we'd have likely seen a much more possessive and controlling Raf. We don't see that in his relationship with Lacey, because Lace would often bite back twice as hard, and was able to [very aggressively] assert boundaries with him. Margie, tho--so long as he kept encouraging and enabling her to make music, and providing warm, enthusiastic support on that front, she'd be easily convinced to change any behavior he didn't like--under the pretense that she was working on becoming a better, easier person to live with. I think, tho--if there ever arose a moment where he asserted that she couldn't pursue a music/career-related opportunity (that didn't require his involvement), if he threatened to take back all the 'nice things' he's given her as a tool of punishment/manipulation, or if he started discouraging her from vising friends or family--and if she couldn't reason with him on that front/it consistently resulted in a big argument every time--she'd end the relationship. She was, at least, raised well by her mother to identify that kind of situation as a 'get out now' 0 tolerance red flag of abuse. And--you know...if she had to do that, I think this would be the event that sees her move back home with her parents. Emotionally and psychologically, she'd lose a lot to this relationship. She'd need her family to help center herself again. Otherwise, Raf would likely sabotage the relationship for himself, and break things off with her over some catastrophic misunderstanding or another--where he is just unable and unwilling to hear her out and take her word at face value. But if certain lines are never crossed; if Margie learns to stifle/bury her excited impulses and exist as quietly as she is able to, and if Raf is able to pull himself back from enacting on paranoid compulsions just enough, he and Margie would probably find a tenuous but """comfortable""" stasis. Like with any relationship, they'd have moments both good and bad, catastrophes that maybe only resolve themselves for the convenience of it rather than out of a proper understanding, as well as tender moments of joyful whimsy, when the circumstances were right for it, that'd serve to remind them of why they're together in the first place and help bolster the staying-power of their relationship. But it'd all be balanced...very differently. They'd be a lot less fun, I think. Margie would have never suggested going to Cortes Island. She'd have been reluctant to suggest much at all. Raf would be stuck with the persistent suspicion that she resented him--and yanno--she might. But not for the reasons he'd think.

#hi-note #I don't much like this AU if I am being honest haha

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ceilidho · 9 months

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do u perchance have any ghost/soap/reader thoughts to spare 🤲

oh my god you wouldn't even believe the amount of thoughts I have about them (nsfw below the read more)

I love thinking about what the dynamic might look like depending on who initiated the relationship.

I love love love the idea of Ghost dating you (a civilian who lives off base; maybe he even keeps you tucked away in a house somewhere up north to keep you safe) and realizing that Soap has a bit of a crush on you. He talks a bit too much whenever Ghost brings you around, postures a bit in front of you, and gets VERY sketchy and flighty when Ghost tries to talk to him about you later.

He won't admit it, but it's hard seeing pictures of you (or worse, meeting you in person and getting to see with his own eyes how teeny tiny you are next to his behemoth of a CO) because anytime Soap does, his thoughts immediately jump to something nasty like "wonder how he fits his cock in her mouth" "she probably gags on it a little"

He really can't help it; it's part being cocky and competitive by nature and wanting to measure up to the guy he holds in such high esteem (Soap's had a bit of a work crush on Ghost since basically day 1 of working together; his little heart eyes when he said "Save you a seat, sir" that first mission) and part genuine attraction. And then part being just a regular guy with filth on the brain 24/7 - like sue him, he sees a gorgeous girl and a guy twice her size with his arm around her waist, he's gonna think about that when he's alone in the showers.

Ghost obviously picks up on this almost instantly.

The next time Ghost brings you up, they're setting up camp somewhere in the desert, and Soap's already red face (he tans as well as he burns) grows even hotter. It's obvious that he's got it bad for you. It's also obvious that he thinks he's being slick and keeping his crush hidden from Ghost.

Weeks in the desert are a bitch to deal with. Especially weeks spent in near constant proximity to work colleagues/friends; usually the guys are used to sneaking off to crank one out every once in awhile, but something about this particular mission makes that impossible. They're stuck in the same quarters 24/7 and Soap can't even handle hearing your name because he's so pent up and jittery. Probably hasn't jerked off in at least a week and a half.

Maybe one night, when it's just Soap and Ghost retiring for the night while Price and Gaz take over watch, and Soap's been particularly acerbic all day, frustration etched into his face, Ghost drags him by the arm down with him onto the bed. Soap's caught off balance (they're both dead on their feet; he didn't expect Ghost to suddenly tug him down beside him onto the too small cot that barely has enough room for one of them) and tries to scramble away at first, but Ghost growls at him that if he doesn't tug one out and quit making stupid calls on their mission, he'll do it for him.

(Obviously, in this 'verse, Ghost wouldn't have any problem with that. He hasn't been suppressing his feelings for Soap so much as figuring out the best way to get Soap to come around to the idea)

The thing that finally stuns Soap into silence is when Ghost pulls out his phone (which has basically 3 contacts, a handful of photos and nothing else) and opens up a bunch of your nudes. Completely gobsmacked. Immediately bricked up, sweat beading on his upper lip, eyes flicking wildly over to Ghost at his side, who's already undoing his belt and Soap feels like his heart's about to pump straight out of his chest.

"Y'gonna lay there like a fucking idiot with your mouth open or deal with that?" Ghost finally growls, pulling his own cock out (Soap stops breathing for a second at the sight; it's as big as he would've guessed, proportional, girthier than it is long, and already hard, wet at the tip because Ghost's a pretty leaky man).

He's giving him tacit permission to jerk off to his girlfriend's nudes.....obviously Soap's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. His brain is fried though - he won't even acknowledge the degrees to which this whole thing is absolutely fucked, jerking off with his lieutenant to his lieutenant's girlfriend's nudes.

All he can concentrate on are the photos of you in your lacy lingerie (maybe tugging your panties to the side, flipped over on your stomach with your hips canted in the air and ass on full display) and the sound of Ghost's hand slick over his dick. It's the hottest he's ever felt in his life and he's almost worried that he's going to pass out before he can even enjoy himself properly.

[Maybe right before he comes, Ghost reaches over and wraps a big hand around Soap's balls and gives them just the slightest little squeeze, grunting in his ear to "c'mon, get it over with", and Soap near blacks out from how hard he comes]

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #ghost x soap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #johnny soap mactavish #ghost/reader #soap/ghost #soap/reader

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ozzgin · 8 months

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Can I request a headcanon where baki has a very cute s/o and pickle just so happens to escape the arena and runs into the cute s/o and everyone scared they'll be eaten pickle is nice and cute with the s/o and the scientists says they're looking at eachother like how kids look at puppies and s/o teaches pickle tricks making yujiro mad he's no longer fighting

Let’s just hope Pickle doesn’t experience cute aggression and has the urge to bite into your face or something.

Baki Headcanons: Pickle meets Baki’s significant other

Featuring Pickle, Baki and his cute partner that builds a strange relationship with the Jurassic man.

[Baki Masterlist] [Part II]

You’re dangling your legs back and forth over the wooden bench that faces away from the large arena building. The nerve of Baki to postpone your date night! You pout to yourself, mildly annoyed that whatever currently stands in the underground ring is more important than you. Who on Earth could it be this time? Baki has already fought most of the big shots.

You don’t have the time to think too hard about it as your seat topples over and you roll on the grass, wildly confused. You quickly lift yourself up and look around, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. At the same time, Pickle scans the area for the obstacle that caused him to trip this badly. He spots the bench, now torn from its bolts, and his gaze then stops on you. Another human. Somehow, this one reminds him of a small animal, like the kind of wild pup he’d chase around when he was younger.

You can now hear the multiple footsteps approaching your location and glance over. There’s a couple of armed men, old man Tokugawa, and behind them Baki is panting in panic. “(Y/N), get the hell back! Fuck, I won’t make it in time” he grunts to himself. Aha! You return to Pickle. So this was the irresistible opponent that had you wait alone next to a parking lot. “The homewrecker!” you exclaim, amused. The large prehistoric man doesn’t register your words but seems to be pleased with your smile.

He lowers himself to your level and inspects your scent. You find his wide, curious eyes and puzzled expression rather cute. Without much consideration you extend your hand and ruffle his hair. Baki gasps at your unhinged act and is about to shove his way through before Tokugawa gently stops him. “I don’t think you need to worry”, he whispers with a finger against his lips. And, true to his word, Pickle is now kneeling before you with a wide grin. One can almost notice a wagging tail behind his giant frame.

Well, you’re certainly cheaper than tranquilizer guns. The research team can’t complain as long as you get Pickle to behave. Baki, on the other hand, isn’t as excited about having his s/o giggling around with a Jurassic man at least twice the size. Now it’s his turn to pout, sitting against the fence and occasionally barking at Pickle that you’re his mate in case he gets funny ideas.

Though the one most annoyed by the situation is probably Yuujirou. He feels like he just got robbed and left empty handed on the side of the highway. No matter how often he parades the ring with a puffed up chest, Pickle seems to be more entranced by your shitty games. Honestly, he’d just get rid of you, but fighting an enraged Pickle and Baki simultaneously could be a stretch even for the Ogre himself.

#baki #baki the grappler #baki x reader #baki headcanons #pickle baki #pickle x reader #baki hanma

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suzukiblu · 5 months

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Thank-you Ko-fi sentences for @beatrice-otter; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

“Um, can we maybe sit for a bit?” Billy suggests, gesturing towards the bean bag chairs. They look comfier than the couch to him. Which is saying something, because the couch looks really comfy. “I wanna tell you something before you decide if you wanna stay here. Well, there’s a few things we should talk about before you decide that, probably? But this one’s kinda the weirdest one.”

“. . . fine,” Superboy says warily, and they both sit on the bean bags. Superboy looks a little bewildered by them; Billy represses another wince. Maybe Cadmus didn’t teach him about bean bag chairs?

That sucks, if they didn’t.

Well, at least Superboy didn't say “no” this time. Although Billy hopes Superboy saying “fine” doesn't actually mean “no”, now that he's thinking of it, because that'd be–

Yeah, okay, Billy needs to not second-guess literally everything Superboy says, so they're definitely gonna have to have the “no” talk ASAP.

“Okay, cool,” Billy says as he settles in carefully on his own bean bag, which is a little awkward because he’s about twice the size he was the last time he sat on one, but he figures it out eventually. This is a weird conversation to have, definitely, but it’s not really . . . like, it’d be bad to lie to Superboy about this, even if he’s gonna keep lying to the Justice League, so . . . well, lying to his co-workers isn’t like lying to his kid, he thinks. Like–it’s definitely not. “Okay, so the thing is, uh, to be totally honest here I'm actually only like twelve years older than you, so I know this whole situation is a liiiiittle weird, but I think it'll be great! And I've really only been doing the superhero thing for a couple of years myself but I can definitely still help you with your powers and with learning how to get along with normal humans and that kind of stuff!”

Superboy stares at him in bemusement. Billy has to repress a wince again. Bemused staring is . . . not great. Though it could be worse, really.

“. . . wait, are you human?” Superboy asks with a slow frown. “You don't look human. You don't have pores or any variation in skin pigmentation and your face is perfectly symmetrical. And your irises don't have spokes.”

“Uh, well, technically I'm human but, uh, please don't tell anybody cuz I reaaaaally don't wanna explain that to the Justice League,” Billy says, wincing after all, and then adds in a mutter, “At least not any time in the next six years, anyway.”

“Okay,” Superboy says, sounding skeptical. But he doesn’t sound mad or weirded out, so . . . that’s a good sign, right? Billy thinks that’s a good sign. So–good! That’s good, that Superboy isn’t immediately freaked out by him only being twelve or walking straight out the door. Like, that’s a relief. So this is going great so far!

“. . . you’re really only twelve years older than me?” Superboy asks, his frown deepening a little as he looks Billy over. Billy grins sheepishly. He’d show him, obviously, but he’s pretty sure Batman’s surveilling the apartment at least a little bit while they settle in and he doesn’t want him seeing the lightning hit, sooooo . . . yeah, not right now.

Anyway, if he’s being a dad he should be dad-shaped, right? Being dad-shaped is better! And like this he’s big enough to hug Superboy really good and maybe carry him around and stuff like that, and he knows most little kids like being carried, and . . . well, his dad always did that kind of stuff for him, so . . .

He just wants to be a good dad. His was . . . his was really great, and Superboy should get to have a great dad too.

“Um, yeah, but please don't tell anyone that either, the League would be so freaking weird about it,” Billy says, still sheepish.

“. . . sure,” Superboy says, still frowning a little. Billy beams at him. This is going really good, yeah! Well, Superboy’s gotta be used to weird age-related stuff, considering he’s technically a baby himself but also “old” enough to understand a lot more than a regular baby would be able to. So yeah, that’s pretty helpful.

Awesome.

#beatrice-otter #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!

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trblsvt · 1 year

Text

wait, what? | wen junhui

summary | it was so stupid. soonyoung insisted your best friend was in love you. no way. wen junhui didn't like you that way, and you definitely didn't like him that way either. right? genre | fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining warnings | swearing (i think maybe once or twice) word count | 1.6k words pairing | wen junhui x gn!reader minli | lowercase intended thank you for the request, it was so cute :) @g00dtimenotlongtim3

"you do realize our good friend wen junhui is hopelessly in love you, right?" jihoon said casually before taking a sip from his cup. you practically spat out your water. what an insane idea. "i have no idea what you're talking about," you rolled your eyes. your friends all glanced at each other. "what's with that?" you asked, noticing the way they were now silent.

"you two are the most oblivious people i know," minghao frowned. you still didn't understand where they were coming from with all this. sure, you liked jun, well more than like, but you were absolutely positive he felt nothing more for you than a best friend. you had quietly been living out your life in the friend zone, and you much preferred that over potentially losing him altogether.

"you guys are crazy," you frowned.

"and you're blind," jihoon shot back. "you both are."

"what?"

"nothing!" he said quickly leaving the room.

minghao was annoying. jun didn't know why, especially since his friend usually kept to himself and didn't try meddling in his business. that was his job. jun had just about enough of his friend's whining and complaining about jun's "non-existent" love life. "it's just really sad," minghao shrugged.

"what exactly is so sad about my love life?" jun asked.

"well the fact that you won't admit to being in love with ___, and that you'll die alone because you won't ever admit it."

jun stared at him. minghao was once again delusional. "okay, harsh. i'm not going to die alone because there's nothing to confess. i am not in love with ___," jun insisted, though something in the way he felt his ears heat up at your name told him differently.

"that's too bad, because they're definitely in love with you."

"no, ___ is definitely not in love with me."

"keep telling yourself that," minghao huffed and left jun to his own devices. jun fiddled with the trinkets on his desk and looked out the window. minghao was delusional, he told himself (although he knew minghao was one of the most logical people he had ever met).

jun didn't know what he was hiding. he expected minghao would've picked up by his crush by now. he also figured the rest of the guys had an idea of his pining for you. he wasn't sure how long he would continue to pine for you, but he would rather die then mess up the friendship you had. he was well aware that idea was cliche, but it was a valid fear in his mind.

he just chose to not do anything, for now at least.

"it's really just painful," soonyoung whined.

"what is?" you asked, rolling over to him on the couch.

"your chronic blindness to love." you groaned and punched his arm. "well now my arm actually hurts, thanks."

"what is up with everyone lately?" you sighed, scrolling through your phone. jihoon and now soonyoung. your friend even texted you about jun, she didn't even know him. "maybe we're all tired of you and jun being blind to your mutual feelings for each other," soonyoung rolled his eyes.

"jun does not like me," you insisted.

"but you like him."

"no."

"yes."

"fine, yeah i like him. what's the big deal?" you admitted exasperatedly. soonyoung got up from the couch and straightened out his shirt. "well, that means the feeling is mutual, so you should probably do something about," he said it like it was apparent.

"tell me, how do you know that jun likes me?" you pushed. soonyoung glanced at you, almost looking tired. he sat back down and crossed his legs. "well for one, he never stops talking about you. two, when he's not with us, he's usually with you. three, he buys your favorite snacks for no good reason. you literally have his card saved in your phone. four, he's always concerned about whether he looks good when he's going to meet up with you. five, he's painfully obviously in love whenever he looks at you. six-"

"okay! i get it!" you cut him off before he can continue. "okay, well, okay i see how that could look like he likes me, but isn't that what friends do?"

"well, i'm not overly concerned about how i look when i visit you and i certainly would not let you save my credit card information."

you had to admit what he was saying seemed to add up, but you were still having a hard time believing it. you know your friends wouldn't purposefully tell you this to get your hopes up if it wasn't true.

you just weren't sure when you should act on it.

funny enough, jihoon and minghao had walked jun through every sign that you were just as into him as he was into you. with enough convincing they got him up and out of his room to finally go confess. "is he coming or not?" soonyoung asked through the phone.

"he's on his way now, so you should probably leave before he shows up," jihoon insisted.

"okay, got it. can't believe we got this plan up and running."

"well they obviously weren't going to get anything done."

"so true, i'm leaving now. hopefully jun doesn't run into me. we don't want him catching on."

"even if he did, he was so blind to his own feelings i doubt he would put two and two together."

"also so true. see you later."

jun shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for your building's elevator to come down to the ground floor. minghao had somehow convinced him to go to your apartment and confess his feelings for you.

this wasn't exactly how he imagined his thursday afternoon to go, and this certainly wasn't the way he was planning on telling you, and he made sure minghao knew that. "just for your information, i had a plan," jun insisted.

"yeah, yeah," minghao grumbled flipping through a magazine.

"i did! a grand plan! with flowers and music and chocolate!"

"music?"

"maybe no music. but flowers and chocolate, yes."

"what if they said no?"

"aren't you the one telling me that ___ is in love with me and i should confess my feelings because the feeling is mutual?"

"yes, but i'm talking about this hypothetical plan."

"yeah whatever. i'll just go, but it will be way less romantic," jun called as he left to go. minghao rolled his eyes at his friend's antics.

"jun?" you answered the door, honestly confused why he was here. though, you did let him without a second thought. his hands were shoved into his pockets and he kicked off his shoes in the doorway. "hi," he said.

"do you want something to drink?" you asked making your way to your kitchen.

"actually i wanted to talk to you," he stopped you. you were hoping that he would sit down so you could compose yourself, but seeing him here after everything soonyoung said had you second-guessing everything. maybe he caught on, perhaps he knew how you felt and was here to tell you to knock it off. "oh okay, yeah, go for it," you mumbled.

"so i heard from someone that you like someone," he said.

oh god, he knew. "well yeah, i guess, yeah i do," you scrambled.

"and you didn't tell me?" he asked quirking an eyebrow at you. he definitely knew. "it never came up in conversation," you defended yourself.

"aren't i your best friend though? don't best friends tell each other everything?" he continued.

"yes. i suppose so."

"well, i guess i'm not being a very good friend either because i failed to mention that i also have a crush on someone."

your heart dropped. what was going on? "that's nice, jun. i'm sure whoever they are, they would be very lucky to have you," you sighed.

"don't you want to hear about them?" he asked. not exactly, "yeah sure."

"well for one, they're beautiful. another they already know me super well. they also like taking my hoodies and my credit card to pay for things. not to mention, our mutual friends opened my eyes to how much i love this person. they told me i should tell this person how i feel as soon as possible," he rambled so eloquently.

"that's really nice, jun. i think you should definitely go tell them," you encouraged him trying to make sure he couldn't hear your heart falling to the pit of your stomach. "oh i already did," he shrugged, a smile gracing his lips.

"really? when?" you were so confused. did he come all the way here just to tell you his new relationship status? "yeah, i did. just now."

oh just now. wait. just now? he laughed when he saw your head whip up at him. "me? you have a crush on me?" you asked, dumbfounded. he took a step closer to you. you could smell his cologne and felt his clothes brush against your skin. "who else, silly?" he asked. "please tell me that you like me too."

"i-" your words died on the tip of your tongue when you opted to kiss him instead. his hands cupped your face and he kissed you back softly. when he pulled away he laughed, "i'm taking that as a yes." you nodded. "for your information i was planning on a romantic confession with flowers and chocolate and a song maybe," he clarified.

"then i guess you owe me," you said. he smiled. maybe your friends were right, the two of you were blind, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

min | not proofread yet! oh no i basically just wrote dialogue! i have to work on my descriptions. also if you want to be added or removed from my taglist let me know, i don't have specific taglists for members or fic types... so let me know if you have a specific preference if any!

tagging: @a-wandering-stay @cinnamoroxie @wonwoosthetic

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year

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i love a good old traumatized reader

reader whose favorite acolyte is xiao, even if he killed them once or twice ! at least he had the courtesy to make it quick..

reader who flinches every time someone makes a sudden move near them. we study their every move with an intense gaze, our body rigid and cold.

reader who does their best to disguise their emotions, but really can’t help but look at certain acolytes with apathy. i mean, who would look someone in the eye after they removed your limbs?

reader who wakes up screaming almost every night, still plagued by memories of the things they endured.

we try to act collected, sure, but the facade cracks sometimes around our closest acolytes. the ones we know we can trust- as friends. ((maybe kazuha, xiao, or itto. big guy. himbo. good hugs. also small guys. good for cuddling.

but yippee!! itto or kazuha never even tried to kiII us! that’s a win in my book. xiao on the other hand,, has beheaded us twice! we thank him for making it painless though. i like to think they all get along well

Few Headcanons + Slight Discussion

Sorry, Anon. This is too angsty and beyond my level of bad writing so no oneshot today 💀 Not to mention that this request is giving me heavy "mary sue" or "damsel in distress" vibes. I don't particularly like those if I'm being honest. So, instead, please accept these headcanons!

Although this idea is really good and well thought out, I personally disagree the idea of Reader even trying to be around their acolytes.

Sure, they may still have their favorite character and all that, but let's be honest, anyone who's gained PTSD at this level like Reader would want to stay away from everyone as far as possible.

However, I admit that to the people that were nice and didn't try to kill Reader, they will certainly be talked to. Said-characters will probably have to be prepared to face a lot of unhappy glares and faces.

Though I do doubt Reader will be even willing to go out all that often, so they'll probably invite them to their palace or something. Or maybe, if you wanna make it so that Reader does go out once in a while, Reader sneaks out and does their best to hide and visit said-characters.

Since this request has a slight soft spot for Xiao, despite him being one of the killers, I like to imagine that Reader has a admire-stay-away game with him. They admire them from afar, but won't go close or even start a conversation with him in fear of being killed.

Reader ain't risking being killed again, no matter how fast that man will make it. It's still traumatizing, alright?

Alright, back to the characters that didn't attempt to kill Reader. Itto and Kazuha are so going to get spoiled by Reader with a lot of things—personally made dishes, random gifts, and just simply having a relaxing good time.

Half suspect that Reader will be silent. They are trying to be aware of their surroundings at all times, even during these relaxing moments. Itto and Kazuha have to constantly remind them to have fun and relax because sometimes Reader gets to irked up of being caught.

Let's be honest, these two can protect Reader just fine. They've had their encounters with the Raiden Shogun (sort of, on Itto's behalf), so they aren't exactly scared.

And that's all I got! Sorry if this wasn't what you wanted, Anon, but it's the best I got. See you all around, now! :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: I was originally going to reject this request, but I figure it would be better to just make headcanons of these. Do note that i might not be so lenient as I was with this request. I don't really like too angsty reader—sometimes they're just too much. It gives me "damsel in distress" vibes and I don't really like it.

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#yandere sagau #sagau genshin #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau cult au #sagau fluff #sagau headcanons #sagau impostor au #self aware genshin #genshin cult au #sagau x reader #sagau xiao #sagau kazuha #sagau itto #genshin self aware

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astaraels · 8 days

Text

so I know I'm in the no galladads side of the fandom but hear me out on this one—

so it's maybe five years after the end of the show, Ian and Mickey are still going with their security business, maybe they've even branched out and hired some extra help, making good money, swapped out the stolen ambulance for actual SUVs that Debbie has fixed up for them, and they've maybe even bought a house back on the South Side with a dog and a cat and they're close to all of Ian's siblings (Debbie and Carl and Liam all still live in the old Gallagher house, Lip and Tammi are a few blocks over)

and one day they're on a lunch break together, leaving some diner when some rando kid bumps into Ian, turns out it was a pickpocket, and Mickey takes off after the jerk who tried to steal from his husband (he may not be a South Side thug anymore but like hell is he gonna let that shit slide)

he knocks the pickpocket over and it's some kid, like thirteen or fourteen with bright pink streaks in her dark hair and fierce brown eyes, and Mickey is like wtf kid do you wanna die

and the kid is like oh fuck you, very much an angry kitten type because she's definitely a scrawny thing—by this time Ian's caught up to them and his bleeding heart is like look if you give me my wallet back I'll buy you lunch (Mickey complains that "we just ate, Gallagher" but Ian insists)

so they either go back to the diner or find some McDonald's and this kid practically inhales some burgers and fries, and both Mickey and Ian know the look of a kid on the streets, but she's giving off those vibes that say don't touch me don't talk to me don't fucking perceive me

but Ian probably sees something like Mickey, and Mandy, in this girl and we all know he wants to help people, so he asks her if she's okay or if she needs anything, and even though he can feel Mickey starting to grumble next to him Ian still offers her their couch to crash on after she mentions getting kicked out of a salvation army shelter because they found out she was trans

and after some very intense eye to eye communication between the husband Mickey's like okay yeah fine but if one thing is outta place in the house then we're gonna have words

and the girl—they find out her name is Starr, or something like that—is like wtf why are you people being nice (they understand the suspicion, obvs, they aren't stupid), and Ian's like uhhhh we're gay and we've gone through some shit of our own so maybe we just wanna help?? (although he does notice she relaxes a little bit when he tells her that they're gay)

so they drive back home and Starr is absolutely enamored by the gallapets (a beautiful fluffy black cat and a big pittie mix, both of these animals are Ian and Mickey's baby girls), while Ian fixes up the spare bedroom with fresh sheets—usually it's where Franny or Fred stay when they come for weekend visits

and at first Starr is like okay yeah I'll stay one night but then I gotta go, and somehow it ends up that one night turns into two, then Ian and Mickey come home one afternoon and the house looks amazing because Starr is like "yeah your place was a fucking mess so I figured I'd clean" because she's not a freeloader gdi

and before they know it she's been there for a few weeks and Ian's trying to help get her back in school, because one night they were sitting around and talking and she offhandedly said that she does kinda miss school but the last place she went they were assholes about her transition, and Mickey is like just do that homeschooling course thing that maybe Tammi talked about one of her bougie friends doing for their kids

and then it's been a month or two and they bring Starr to a Gallagher family get together—Debbie hosts the family at the house at least twice a month, but everyone's been super busy lately so it's been a while since the last family dinner—and Debs gives Starr a hug and is like "oh so you're the kid my brothers adopted" (she and Sandy worked things out btw and have been back together for a while now, they've even maybe talked about getting married)

and Starr is like oh no I'm just crashing for a bit but by this point Ian has already got her the homeschooling correspondence courses, and Mickey's taken her to find a doctor who can prescribe her HRT ("it was on our route anyway, fuck off, Gallagher") and their pets adore her—Ian jokes that their cat is the one who actually adopted Starr, they just went along with it

and basically I just love the idea of them taking care of a young queer girl, and being like the cool gay uncles, and yeah :')

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #maybe I'll put this on a to write list <3 #galladads #starr verse

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 18 days

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Has anyone asked you about erisol?

If no, then what's your opinion on them! :-)

I feel like people will be upset at me for this, but a completely platonic and completely lukewarm mutual dislike... they don't really like each other, but take no great issue with each other either. The boys are not fightingggg

So like. A common thing in fandoms is taking things at face value and not really reading any deeper into them. You see this a shitton with Eridan in general - lots of people take it 100% at face value that he's a casteist genocide liker, when it's pretty clear upon further examination that he's pretty much lying about being casteist and doesn't actually want to murder his friends. So, at face value, Eridan hates Sollux, and either wants to do spadesies with him, or go ashen with him. And so this has become a really popular ship, but the thing is... at basically every turn, the story kind of goes out of its way to point out that there's actually nothing between them. At least romantically.

See, Eridan does not actually hate Sollux, at least not to the level of pitch/ashen. TWICE before Sollux and Feferi start hanging out all the time, we see Eridan commenting on Sollux in a fairly neutral-negative way - the first time calling him "a drama machine" and noting that "it is fuckin pathetic," and the second time as "the dead guy who saved [Feferi]". And let's be clear about the former, Eridan is just kind of Like That, he's rude as fuck even about people he LIKES (calling his BFF Karkat an "assblood" and sarcastically referring to Feferi by her royal titles), so that's actually one of the less nasty things he's said about someone.

Meanwhile, on Sollux's end, he LITERALLY says "not interested" to what he perceives as pitch/ashen advances from Eridan. Like, actually just says those words out loud. Not even in a pesterlog, he actually just says those words with his mouth.

So it seems to me that there's a pretty clear case to be made here that Eridan and Sollux kind of just... don't really give a shit about each other, and probably wouldn't have interacted in any substantial way if not for Feferi's involvement. Especially because Eridan's chosen method of hitting on Sollux is with casteism, something he's already faking in the first place.

If we really want to dig into this, though, it's kind of - in my eyes - a lukewarm case of the hedgehog dilemma. They're a bit too similar, and it winds up causing them both mild pain to get too close.

They're both nihilists that kind of hate themselves. Sollux's mutated brain causes him a not-insignificant amount of discomfort, his visions of the future and of the "imminently doomed" have made him lose a lot of hope, and he blames himself for killing Aradia, something so painful that he didn't tell anyone else she died, to the point where most of the team - including Terezi and Tavros - had to find out after entering the game. Meanwhile, Eridan struggles with the perceived inevitability of a lifestyle that causes him nothing but distress, and his constant, overwhelming anxiety about it leads to constant stressing over whether or not he's "good enough"; whenever he's in severe emotional distress, he starts beating up on himself.

They also both front at being more okay with their problems than they actually are. Sollux has his 1337 hacker, two cool for you persona that he puts on, and Eridan is always trying to be the big bad sea dweller. For example, Sollux goes "I'm not trolling the humans, it's beneath me," but he's in Jade's trollslum, so the implication there is that he totally did try trolling, it went badly for him, and now he's pretending that he was always better than that. And I don't think I need to tell you how hard Eridan works to try and present himself as badass and scary and totally not deep in the throes of emotional anguish at all times.

And these are the similarities that ultimately make Erisolsprite so stable. Erisolsprite speculates that maybe the reason he hasn't exploded yet is that deep down, he loves to suffer. The truth is, there's nothing between the two that's really so objectionable that they would ACTUALLY hate each other; Eridan isn't actually casteist, and Eridan never really hated Sollux in the first place.

Neither would they bring each other any comfort or joy - Eridan doesn't have any sympathy for Sollux's baggage, since, like, what, he only killed ONE person, and was even under mind control, so it's not like it was really his fault. He's a drama machine. And Sollux wouldn't have sympathy for Eridan's problems, partially because they manifest in such cringeworthy, embarrassing ways (and Sollux is highly sensitive to not being cringe, seeing as he's always commenting on other people being embarrassing or overly earnest), and partially because - I mean, fuck it, he's a rich-ass sea dweller who doesn't need to worry about being harvested to be a battery for a living ship. And also he's an idiot.

That's kind of what their relationship is to me, you know? A tepid and lukewarm dislike. They're just similar enough to each other to understand the other, and just different enough to be like "ugh, but that guy suuuuuuuucks". It's very funny, but not really a ship, hahaha.

So what you really get from that is two guys that just kind of dislike each other. Not vehemently or diametrically enough for pitch or ashen, and not a trace of the requisite pity for flushed or pale. When you throw the two together into one sprite, it won't shut up about how much it hates itself, how each part of itself is flabberghasted by the other, and how much practically the only reason it doesn't explode is a resounding "meh."

Eridan likes to validate his despair; ironically, since it's all he's ever known, it's where he feels comfortable - and nobody would provide better doomscrolling material than the doom player. Similarly, Sollux likes to torment himself, suffering his guilt in silence, and Eridan has SO MUCH to feel guilty over. Combine them into one entity, and you have a guy who can reach SUCH levels of revelling in his own misery, you don't even KNOW.

Not that it's healthy or positive for either of them... just that it would be incredibly stable. It's their worst tendencies being satisfied by each other. Maybe that's a form of leprechaun romance, but it's certainly not a quadrant.

#homestuck #eridan ampora #sollux captor #admittedly sollux is one of the trolls i'm still working on grasping #and this post should also in no way be taken as 'stop shipping them' because idfc #ship what you want who cares hussie has already been driven away with jeering and sneering #i just was always kind of fascinated by the endurance of the ship #despite pretty much every piece of canon involving these two pointing to the fact that they just. kind of dont like each other #but in a platonic way

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cowgurrrl · 20 days

Text

I Wish I Was

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: yay for creative energy coming back!!

Summary: Murphy’s Law dictates… [3.1k]

Warnings: art talk, discussions of a deceased parent, probably incorrect blueprint talk, a cliff hanger 😈

Temperatures rarely dip below the thirties in Central Texas. It's not impossible, as evidenced by the below-freezing temperatures ravaging much of the South in the final days before returning to school, but it's still rare. Nobody really knows what to do when there's the threat of the roads icing over, so they just decide to shut most things down, including your bar. You feigned disappointment when your manager called to tell you when, in reality, you were digging through your box of acrylic paints to find the one shade that's been calling your name. With the sudden free time, you get to work on your half-finished canvases and listen to the same record repeatedly in the hopes that your brain will zone out enough for you to make something good.

It could be The Mamas and The Papas record spinning or the dark blue winter light shining through your blinds, but you actually like the piece of art unfolding on your canvas. It's undeniably different, a little more vibrant and a little more abstract, but it feels good— sustainable, at the very least. You feel less self-conscious about them and even snap pictures to show them off to Andie. You've finished three other canvases and sent in images of them to a local art collective that takes gallery submissions twice a year, and they've moved you on to the next part of the acceptance process. It's not a definite yes, but it's not an immediate no. You haven't told Joel about the submission or anything, really. You've just holed yourself up in your apartment to paint and sporadically respond to his texts with lots of apologies typed with yellow or purple fingertips.

He knows you're not ignoring him, and you know he's a busy guy. He has better things to do than sit around and wait for you to text him back, but you feel bad about not being as present as you were before. "It's all part of the process, I promise," you said. "Then, when I get my own gallery, you can hear all about it while you fix up my classroom." He reminded you that "pride goeth before the fall" but didn't doubt or pressure you to break your flow. The only thing he consistently texts you about is making sure you're drinking water, stretching your wrists, and, at least, looking at a vegetable during your long sessions. Otherwise, he leaves you alone to work. Everyone else, including the stack of looming emails in your inbox, gets deliberately ignored so you can live in your bubble for just a little longer before school drags you back into session.

That's why you jumped and furrowed your eyebrows at your ringing phone when his contact photo appeared unexpectedly, breaking you out of your concentration. You wipe your hands on your old pair of too-big jeans (universally known as your work pants because they're covered in different colored hand prints) and swipe to answer him before the silly picture of him with one of your scarves on his head can go away. You hear him shuffling around when you put it on speaker and almost hang up, thinking it's a butt dial before you finally hear his voice.

"Hello?" He greets.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Did I leave my jacket there?" He asks. You let out a relieved sigh that it's nothing too dramatic, but the lingering panic his phone call caused sits in the back of your head as you glance down at said jacket. You adjust the palette in your hand, suddenly hyper-aware of the wet paint and thanking whatever God is out there for not getting any on his clothes. You can't imagine things would go over well with the guys if he suddenly showed up to job sites with pink paint on the sleeve of his jacket.

"No..." you say, extending the vowel, and he chuckles.

"Do me a favor. See if there's a ring of keys in the front pocket?" He says. You gently put the palette on your coffee table and wipe your hands again to ensure there's no wet paint on them before digging into both front pockets and feeling the keys in his left pocket. You pull them out and find the set of keys with a baseball keychain and a keychain with a picture of him and the girls on it.

"I've got 'em," you say. "The Astros? Really?"

"D'you mind bringin' 'em to the office? I forgot I needed 'em." He ignores your jab, and you look down at your outfit. Clad in your work pants, a sports bra, Joel's Carhartt jacket, and your unwashed hair in a clip, you are not prepared to leave the house today, let alone go see Joel.

"Um..."

"Somethin' wrong?" He asks, and you wince. What are you gonna say? Sorry, I know you have to do your job and all, but I look and feel like shit, so I can't bring your keys to you? He's already seen you in disarray from the school day, but that was a cuter, more socially acceptable version of disarray. This version gives credence to the messy, mentally ill artist stereotype Freud introduced however many years ago.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just..." you sigh and rub your face. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. I kinda look crazy."

"That's it?" He asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Baby, I don't care how you look. You could show up in a potato sack, and I wouldn't care."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't own a potato sack, but I'm pretty sure that would look better than this."

"If it makes you feel better, the office is empty."

"Then, why are you in? It's fucking freezing."

"I needed to make sure the pipes didn't freeze over, and I left some blueprints here," he says. "I can grab 'em from you and just come back to the office."

"No, I don't want you driving more than you have to," you say, already stretching out your stiff legs. Your knees creak in protest, and fatigue seeps into your bones. God, how long have you been sitting here? "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"I think it'll take a lot more than some messy clothes to scare me off, darlin'," he says, and you roll your eyes at his charm. With a quick goodbye, you throw on a clean enough sweater and leggings. You debate running a brush through your hair before remembering what he said about the empty office and decide you don't have the energy. If he really doesn't care what you look like, then you're not going to stress about it.

You're a little worried about driving in the weather, even you aren't immune to Southern weather panic, but the roadways are mostly clear, and things aren't expected to get really bad until later on. Still, you drive slowly and white-knuckle the wheel against strong, frigid winds. By the time you get to Joel's office, the sky is more grey than blue, and radio announcers warn you that there might be flurries within the next forty-eight hours. You doubt they'll stick to the ground and amount to nothing more than some black ice, inconveniencing everyone in the state, but still. You leave the relative warmth of your car and walk as fast as you can into the building, clutching Joel's jacket close to your body and sending a wave of his smell over you.

The office itself is small, with a couple of desks here and there, mostly for meeting with clients and explaining building plans. A coffee pot and water cooler sit in the corner next to the receptionist's desk, which is currently empty. It's eerily quiet in the space except for the sound of the heat rumbling somewhere in the walls, and you almost wonder if Joel left without telling you when you hear grumbling and the tell-tale sound of his boots against the tile. He doesn't notice you at first. Instead, he scowls at a paper like it owes him money and mutters under his breath. Whatever is annoying him is wiped away the second he sees you there.

"Hey, baby," he lights up as he walks over to you and kisses you, abandoning the paper on one of the desks so he can hold you close. He tastes like coffee and the beeswax chapstick Ellie got him for Christmas. You didn't realize how much you missed him until now, and you smile against his lips. "You got my keys?" He asks as he turns to walk into his office, grabbing your hand and bringing you with him. He lets go of you to close the door behind him, and you dig the keys out of your pocket and toss them at him. He catches them in mid-air easily and walks over to the filing cabinet.

"You intentionally leave your keys with me, or is this just a happy accident?" You ask, and he smirks.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you again."

"Sneaky," you say as you walk around his space while he searches for the correct blueprint.

It's a relatively normal office with eggshell walls and bad fluorescent lighting, but once you step behind his desk, you get a good idea of the man who works here. His desk is old and made of some type of wood he probably knows more about than you do. It's filled with little knick-knacks and things that get him through the day: family pictures, a painted gecko from Terlingua, stress balls, and a desk calendar with his all-caps handwriting. There are even some drawings done by Ellie pinned on the corkboard behind his chair, her skill visibly improving as she gets older.

One particular picture on his desk catches your eye. It's older than the rest, and it takes you a minute to recognize Joel's eyes in the greying man. Joel, Tommy, and their dad smile at the camera with identical grins. Tommy can't be older than ten while Joel towers over them both, his broad shoulders taking up lots of space. You pick it up to look at it closer and Joel doesn't stop you. Instead, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"'S this your dad?" you ask, and he nods. "You guys look a lot alike."

"You think?" He asks like he doesn't see it, and you look at him. You take a second or two to let your eyes trace his features and compare them to his dad's before nodding.

"Yeah. Same eyes," you say as you look back down. "And smile." He hums happily at that. Joel's face hasn't changed much now that he's a grown man. If anything, he looks more like his dad, with the grey at the temples and the beard framing his face. You see bits of their father in Tommy, too, but you assume he probably looks more like their mother. "How old were you in this?"

"Mm, fifteen? Maybe sixteen." Right before his dad died, you think. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing or reliving the day over again. Before the clutches of grief can sink you both, you smile to yourself and hold the picture a little closer.

"I would've been obsessed with you if we'd gone to high school together."

"Really?" He asks incredulously, and you giggle at the thought.

"Oh, for sure. Look at you!" You point to his little broody half-smile as if it's evidence. "Those eyes, that hair, the attitude. I mean, c'mon, Joel!" He laughs at your praise and takes the photo out of your hands.

"Alright, alright, that's enough objectification for teenage Joel."

"I'm not objectifying you! I'm just stating the obvious."

"Mhm," he hums, and you laugh. You continue walking around and looking at his things as he frowns at the blueprint he trekked through the cold to get. "Shit." He mumbles, reaches for a pencil, and scribbles something on the plans.

"What's wrong?" You ask, perching yourself on the edge of his desk and leaning over to look at the intricate design. It looks like a big house with lots of elaborate details written on the margins. It's a big build. No wonder he needed to get this copy.

"This client decided they wanted a bigger kitchen, but I don't know how to do that without eatin' into another room and changin' the whole plan," he sighs. "We're supposed to be back on the site once this storm blows over, and I gotta have an idea of how we're gonna do this by then."

"Can't you just tell them no?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Can’t you just tell your principal no?

"Point taken," you say. "What about pushing it into the backyard a little? Then you could use this area over here to make a sunroom or something," you suggest, gesturing to the weird leftover space that would make the house look wonky. His eyebrows knit together as he thinks.

"Then what should I do here?" He asks. Together, you go back and forth, discussing dimensions, perspectives, and measurements. You never realized how similar these designs are to art. They have to have more of a purpose and fit specific parameters, but other than that, they have the same idea: create something out of nothing. It's cool to see Joel in his own element, doing mental math and estimates that would take you ages to do and writing down his findings as you figure them out together. He's not just good at math, he's good at sketching the new designs.

Almost seamlessly, he flips through the floor plans and layouts, adding a window there or changing the flow of a room with a singular erasure. He adds the perfect depth to see the idea clearly without crowding the space and making it seem too busy, allowing the clients to picture their furniture in the home. When you bring up an idea, he's quick to rotate the plans upside down to imagine how it would look and if it would impact the building process, his brain running through every possible solution and flipping it without even thinking. Ellie does the same thing when she gets stuck on a drawing. You see where she gets her skill from, even if he'll never admit it.

For someone who has always struggled with math, you enjoy the balance between math, engineering, and art in the plans, but you like working with Joel the most. It's nice to feel like you're helping instead of distracting him. You're not sure how long you worked together, reconfiguring things this way and that, before you finally reached a viable solution, but you know that Joel has the biggest smile on his face when he looks away from the blueprints.

"You mighta missed a callin', my dear." He says, and you laugh, shaking your head.

"My college algebra professor might disagree, but I do think this is interesting."

"Well, if you ever want a job..." he trails off as he rolls the blueprints back up and secures it with a rubber band. You smirk and tug at his belt loops to bring him closer to where you're sitting on his desk.

"You just want me to get more tattoos." You accuse, and he chuckles as he tosses the prints somewhere behind you, his hands coming up to frame your face.

"I'm just sayin', Miller Contracting don't have a policy against it like the school district does."

"Mm, what about dating? That might get a little dicey."

"Is sleepin' with your boss better or worse than sleepin' with a student's parent?" He asks, and you laugh.

"They're probably in the same realm of bad."

"Then, we've got nothin' to lose." He says as he leans down to kiss you. You open your legs just enough for him to step in between your knees and get as close as he can. He's trimmed his beard since the last time you saw him, but the stubble still scratches deliciously against your skin, making you sigh. He breaks away enough to tip you back onto his desk, narrowly missing his clutter, and you giggle when he kisses your neck.

"How long have you been plannin' this one?" you ask, your years in Texas showing through in your breathless voice. He smiles as he meets your eyes.

"I dunno what you're talkin' bout."

"Oh, so getting me alone and on top of your desk was just a coincidence?"

"Happy accident." He muses, sliding his hands up your shirt as he gets lower and lower. Your hands play with his hair, occasionally tugging on the strands just to hear the sound he makes. You would've been happy to do that all day if your phone ringing through the suddenly too-warm air of his office didn't interrupt. Joel groans and drops his head to your sternum, his hands pausing their journey up your body as you wiggle your phone out of your back pocket. Your heart drops the second you recognize the phone number.

"Who is it?" Joel asks like he's reading your mind. You sit up slowly, and he takes his hands off you without malice or frustration. You're stuck staring at the number until it disappears off your screen and goes to voicemail.

"Um... someone from work. I should probably call them back." You say, unsure of yourself as the words fall from your mouth. Joel looks confused but doesn't push.

"Oh. Right, yeah. School starts back up on Monday, right?"

"Yeah, she probably just wants to talk about lesson plans or something," you say, standing from your spot on the desk. The air has changed between you, and suddenly, things feel clunky and awkward. This is the worst possible timing. "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll walk you out." He says sheepishly. You don't say anything as he opens the doors for you and gives you a quick kiss and a reminder to text him when you get home. You just nod and immediately speed walk to your car even though you're not that cold. Joel watches you pull out from your parking spot and leave the strip mall, waving before you can turn out of sight.

You wait until you're five minutes down the road before you dial the number back as if Joel would be able to hear the crackly voice through your speaker if you were any closer. Your heart beats fast in your chest, and your palms are sweaty on the wheel as the phone rings. When the dial tone finally ends, and your call is answered, the anxiety is replaced with frustration.

"What’s up?" You ask through gritted teeth, and you hear her take a breath.

"We need to talk about Ellie’s dad."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @maried01 @acupofhollie

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ghoste-catte · 4 months

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I'm on my hands and knees asking you about your favorite gaalee moments (spin offs count bc why wouldn't they)

Anon ... I'm sorry I took a while to answer this for you, but it's because you activated my trap card. But without further ado ... here are my top 10 GaaLee moments.

(My 10th pick and rationale beneath the cut)

The Drop Kick So, I feel like we don't talk about this kick often enough. Because this is actually the first time anyone draws blood on Gaara (we see the scratch on his face once his head pops back up). As much time as was given in canon to Gaara's reaction to Sasuke drawing his blood, I don't really understand why Lee being the first to cut him wasn't as big a deal.

The Primary Lotus This is ... probably the first time Gaara's been touched hand-to-body in years. I've written a few times (and shout out to @egregiousderp for their hand in this headcanon) about how this was probably the first approximation of a hug that Gaara had since Yashamaru. He replaces himself with a sand clone halfway down, but for the initial drop, that's just Lee holding him.

The Rescue I wasn't able to find my favorite screenshot from this moment, which is the one where Gaara's sand is rushing to save Lee and it kind of looks like a heart, but anyway, I just love this pivot. The fact that Gaara uses the very weapon he used to crush Lee's dreams to save him. The way Lee still tries to be an equal partner in this fight despite his injuries. The "I don't hold a grudge!"

The Talk This moment means a lot to me. It's a deep conversation to have, and it's one that happens on two levels that I think aren't fully addressed by the narrative. Of course, on the surface, they're talking about Kimimaro and Orochimaru, but the subtext goes something like: Gaara: Even if people love me, I'm still a monster. All they would need to do is be desperate and lonely enough, and I might seem like a good choice. Lee: The fact that people love you proves you're not a monster! Obviously Gaara gets the final word in this conversation, but I do like to think it sinks in later on and influences their relationship in the future.

The Walk Home I hate that we only get to see this in flashbacks in filler episodes (although we do get to see it twice from two different perspectives!)

But I love this moment because of the way that Gaara chooses to carry Lee: he slings him over his shoulder with one arm. If you go back and watch Gaara and his siblings returning to Suna after his fight with Naruto, that's exactly the way first Kankuro, and then Temari, carry him when he's wounded.

This moment is during that time where Gaara's still learning how to be a person and not a weapon, and the fact that he chooses to carry Lee with such care … it feels relationship-defining.

6. The Eighth Gate That flashback that Gaara has to Gai and Lee's relationship shows that he's really internalized the defining impact Lee had on his life. The genuine care and concern that he looks at Lee with in that moment despite Lee's stubborn insistence that he won't be sad makes my heart ache for the both of them.

7. The Retreat If you've ever read one of my fics that's set during the war and notice that I mention Gaara carrying Lee around on his sand, this is what I'm talking about. I love that Lee sees the sand as an unequivocal source of safety instead of threat at this point (to the point of entrusting it to carry Gai-sensei in his frail state). And I love that this seems to be Gaara's default way of pulling Lee out of danger ... it's at least the second time he's done it, after all:

8. Gaara-kun! This was one of The Moments for me. We as a ship had been speculating so long about the degree of intimacy of Lee and Gaara's relationship. We'd spent, I think, a decade at this point writing fics where Lee called Gaara "Kazekage-sama". Then the Perfect Day for a Wedding arc dropped, and here's Lee calling Gaara "Gaara-kun" just like he does the rest of his friends ... wind was blown into the ship's sails on this day.

9. The Double Date Gaara and Lee go on a double date with Tenten and Kankuro to Ichiraku Ramen. This is canon. 'Nuff said.

And now, for number 10 ... drumroll please ...

10. The ILY I know, I know - those handsigns don't mean the same in JSL as they do in ASL. But my little hard-of-hearing heart can't help but see Lee shooting double "I love you"s at Gaara in this moment. And even if he's not, the starry eyes and blushy cheeks say it all. This is flirting, y'all.

#answered #Anonymous #naruto #gaalee

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shuttershocky · 3 months

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The reason there's no DMC6 yet is because the only playable character is gonna Lady so they need to figure out her moveset so its perfect. I'm not coping of course not.

This is going to be blasphemy and sacrilege to say (on the same level as "DMC2 isn't unplayable" which I DO NOT ACTUALLY THINK BTW) but I think we're more than ready to get a Devil May Cry game without Dante. From how badly the girls got sidelined in 5 while teasing a Lady and Trish adventure that we never got, they deserve at least a full game.

Shit, make it a whole girl's night. Bring Lucia back and put her in an actually playable game. Expand Lady's moveset and so she's not just Gunslinger-only but DMC3-strength Gunslinger+++, she's called the walking arsenal for god's sake, give her twice the guns Dante has. Trish doesn't have the demon sword Sparda anymore so have Nico fashion up a big sci-fi scythe for her. V's summoner playstyle was undercooked in 5 and deserves a second chance but V himself can't be reused? Well it turns out Patty's a big girl now and she's the descendant of an incredibly powerful demon summoner so... Make her inherit V's playstyle (just replace the demons since they can't be DMC1 enemies anymore) but have actual attack and movement options for the summoner beyond just Royal Fork so Patty can fight and actually style on enemies, while adding more of the summoner-summon interactions that made V actually pretty cool like the ability to walk on Shadow's skewer or ride on Nightmare to force Domination.

And because gamers are going to cry if there's not a single man in the playable cast, Nero's still on Earth, except he now has both robot limbs and devil limbs, which made DMC5 Nero on new game plus play like a goddamn dream. Dante even officially left Nero in charge of Devil May Cry while he's in hell, so just have Nero in the office surrounded by all the girls. Everyone around's gonna think he's a debonair lady's man when he's actually a married guy surrounded by women his very poor uncle owes money to.

Besides, I think there's a lot of fun potential in Nero and Patty meeting each other. Both of them were orphans that eventually had run-ins with Dante, and Patty even posed as Dante's daughter while they traveled, making Patty the closest thing Nero can have to a weird cousin. They're even opposites in attitudes, with Nero being an unrefined gorilla (Nico herself can't explain how Kyrie fell for him) while 8 year old Patty was a pink balloons, flowers, plushies, and sundaes girl that probably stayed just as girly even when she grew into an adult. They would not work well together. Kyrie would love her though.

And fine of course Dante wouldn't actually get skipped over, it's just that being tied to Vergil means he's gotta play by Vergil's rules. This means the inevitable DMC6 Special Edition comes with both Vergil and Dante in a special mini campaign in hell on their mission to prune the underworld's biggest plant with the tiniest possible garden shears, the Yamato and the Devil Sword Dante. Maybe they piss off Mundus with their lawnmowing and that's what causes Mundus to launch an invasion on Earth, causing the events of the main story.

#Devil May Cry

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stealingyourbones · 2 years

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ok so like I've just had horrible Tall!Jazz brainrot for the past 24 hours because of you and I need to share this. it's a lot too so buckle up

tall jazz is good and all but ya know what would make it even better? werewolf Jazz.

I can imagine Jason just falling all over himself cause this pretty tall lady not only is super strong, smart and bad ass. but she just also regularly shifts into this tall ass wolf creature to rip off people's faces when needed.

I can see Jason being dragged to some type of Ball/Gala thing by Bruce and him kinda lurking around the room to avoid his family and nosy rich people. This just isn't his scene and the only reason he's here is cause B thinks something big is gonna happen while they're there.

Him just casually bumping into Jazz, like they're both distracted and Jason just kinda slams into this brick wall of human being and getting knocked to the ground. Cue him looking up from the floor to this tall buff lady in a sparkly dress, all flustered about knocking him over and him just blue screening cause wow

She just picks him up and sets him on his feet too, like she's so worried she accidentally gave this poor man a concussion cause hes not responding and his soul just kinda leaves his body for a moment

he just kinda blurts out something about being able to die happy now or some other corny crap that makes him lose like all his bad boy edge with her (not that he had very much with how things are going) and she just looses it. it was probably some reference to a book or something they'd both have interest in

She's giggling and blushing, so Jason is like I still gotta chance with her time to pull out all the stops. like it just evolves into him spending the night trying to make her laugh and getting to know her, she starting making references and jokes back and forth with him too. A lot of them are dead jokes too, like while his family gets weird about his death jokes Jazz just starts making her own back.

One of them mentions a younger brother, either one starts first but once they get going it almost becomes a competition with the weirdest stories about their baby brothers, Jason's like yeah one of my brothers regularly climbs in the chandelier to try and get out of going to school and Jazz is like my brother once rode a vacuum, etc. Just going back and forth getting to know each other.

Jason can tell somethings a little off about Jazz, she steps too quietly, her teeth are sharper then they should be and she keeps watch of all the exits here. Jason probably assumes she's a meta of some kind once he notices it all.

While Jazz can just feel the ectoplasm/pit in him making him leminal, she catches his eyes flash green at least twice the entire time they're talking and she can tell he's hiding something. Jazz is just like, oh well not my place to ask this guy if he's died and came back or anything.

Then the thing Bruce was worried about does happen, cause of course it does. probably a fear gas attack in the middle of the ballroom.

Cue the BatFam kinda leaping into action, herding people away from the gas and Jason being with Jazz trying to get her out. Maybe something/someone keeps them stuck there and Jason has a respirator from B but Jazz doesn't so he's trying not to freak out.

Jazz is obviously panicking a bit as she's stuck in the gas, shoulders shaking, breathing a bit too quick and hard. But she just starts slowing her breathing and calming her self down before just growling in rage. just full on animalistic growl and snarl as she stands up straight and gets ready to beat up the bums keeping them locked in there.

Jason trying and failing to keep her from running further into the smoke, watching her as she suckered punches a henchman in the face breaking his nose, and Jason realizing he's so done for.

I could totally see Jazz just full on transforming on the dance floor mid fight or something too, just one moment things are getting a bit too close for comfort for one of the bats and this giant wolf lady in a sparkly dress just one hit K.O.s a guy to keep them safe.

as for why Jazz is a werewolf in the first place maybe she got bit by one, maybe Wulf turned her or maybe a accident in her parents lab infected her. however it did happen she just took it in stride and was like now I can protect my little half dead brother better this is fine by me.

I totally believe that everyone from Amity Park just isn't all that effected by fear gas, like sure it might send them into a panic attack but that's easy enough to work through after facing your own mortality almost every week for the past however many years. Like Amity Park natives have lived and breathed unimaginable fear and horrors for so long they just aren't all that scared of Joker or any other Gotham Rouge.

Anyways I think that's all of the brain rot out now, this was kinda more of a ramble then like an actual prompt so sorry about that lol.

Bro I don’t CARE that it’s a ramble this is fucking INCREDIBLE!!!

It’s wild I was just rambling about Vampire Jazz stuff with some pals and now there’s this. Perfect timing dude wow.

Jazz and Jason just tripping over each other but both are being sickeningly sweet. They’re just happily chatting and mentally fawning over each other.

Werewolf jazz in her cute battle dress taking out Scarecrow goons left and right? Oh man I mean I’d blue screen too Jason I don’t blame ya.

Oh yeah and the second Jason hears that growl he mentally shuts down. He didn’t know something like that could be that hot till now but damn is he gonna go with it cause fuck look at this girl just decimate the bad guys. That’s hot as hell. She winks at him while she dislocates a goons shoulder and Jason just falls even deeper in love

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc comics #writing prompts #tall jazz #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #anon

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c0ffeecr0w · 6 months

Text

More South Park headcanons (ft Craig's gang)

Canon age and high school/college HCs, though most are in general about them (biology, personality, ecc)

Might edit in case I add something or re-edit them

Kyle plays guitar and violin pretty well, though he plays the latter for special events and occassions (ex. music class)

Kenny and Cartman have funny contact nicknames for their friends. Ex. Cartman has Kenny as "Poor Kid", while Kenny has Stan as "Cup Of Depresso" jokingly, though Stan isn't aware of it but he might find it funny since he knows Kenny's sense of humour. Rest of the 3 have Cartman as "Fatass" or "Doughboy" unsurprisingly

Cartman is the worst cuddler/kisser despite being a big marshmallow. Kenny can do it with ease. I mean, he's the master at it. Just look at his love for girls and getting along with pretty much anyone, especially Butters. Stan is also a pretty good cuddler but not as good as Kenny, plus he'd get a bit nervous when cuddling someone, though he's gotten over vomiting when nervous/in love.

Stan gets pretty hiccupy/burpy when drunk

He gets pretty bad hiccups when overeating too

Stan has a dad sneeze, Kenny has a kitten sneeze

Kenny is the coldest to the touch, Cartman is the warmest

Both Kenny and Stan have moments where they gorge themselves, not just because they're both stoners but for other reasons, such as Stan being the most active. Stan gets depressed the most while Kenny just has a bigger appetite (Stan has a bit of one too), plus doesn't eat much sometimes. Kyle is sometimes repulsed by it

Cartman loves food but doesn't eat as much as Kenny, who can eat an entire 8 lb steak if dared to. Cartman would probably get to about 3/4

Stan is a quiet sleeper, might move to his own side of the bed if sleeping with someone. He'd sometimes stay up thinking or scrolling through his phone

Kyle is the most restless. He's sometimes a bit nervous to sleep with someone, especially Kyle or Wendy

Kenny's a cuddler when sleeping with someone, whether it'd be Cartman, Butters, Stan, Kyle. He likes keeping people safe and calm with him. Spoon all the way

Kenny loves Horror movies. He can watch them all night. Stan however would be scared, hiding behind a blanket/pillow until the scary scenes/entire movie is over or just hug someone near him to comfort

Kyle has a fear of centipedes/millipedes after the Human CentiPad incident as well as Japanese food. He can't eat or look at it without feeling nauseous from it

Wendy started learning Taekwondo around third grade and has done it ever since. Has done it on Cartman twice

Kenny has a high spice tolerance. He can eat a Carolina Reaper as a dare and probably wouldn't need milk to wash the spice. Kyle and Butters on the other hand have the least. Butters would probably quit after eating a Jalapeno

Bebe also likes spicy food, though she can't go as far as passing Habanero spice (100/150,000 SHU)

Butters sleeps with plushies, even in his high school and college years. Cartman has this habit as well but no one knows he does aside from his mom

Bebe and Kenny both try a variety of makeup fashion types together

Cartman and Kyle have the best skincare routine. Cartman mainly does it to be pretty while Kyle is germophobic

Cartman has told only Butters and Kenny that he's gay. Stan thinks he's bi since he had Heidi in the past. Kyle doesn't know, doesn't care but assumes he is gay/queer due to the whole "ball sucking" demand

Stan and Kenny would be the ones who'd eat dog treats/pet food if there's no food in the house

Cartman smokes nicotine vapes, Stan does weed and Kenny smokes both

Both Kenny and Stan have almost gotten pulled over by the cops from being drunk and high and somehow escaped without them noticing

Butters likes the High School musical movies and Kenny watched them with him because nobody else would

Kenny hangs out with almost everybody. Stan's gang, Craig's gang, the Goth kids, the girls

He hates clowns. He couldn't watch It or Killer Clowns From Outer Space because of his fear of them

Stan occasionally talks to the Goth kids, though he's closer friends to Micheal than the rest of them

Kenny and Cartman both watch makeup vloggers. Butters mostly listens to ASMR or watches arts and crafts tutorials. Stan just finds a bunch of memes and animal videos while Kyle mainly uses YouTube for music aside from Spotify

Stan and Kyle are the only ones who have cars. Stan's is a blue pickup truck that he drives everyone around in. Kyle's is a red Sedan Chevy that he mostly drives Stan, Wendy or Kenny around, refuses to let Cartman ride with him. Cartman just takes Uber when at far distances and going someplace alone. Kenny is too poor and short on cash to own a car. He uses Kevin's broken ass Nissan

Stan is okay with eating meat as long as he doesn't witness the slaughter of an animal. He's squeamish to blood and can't watch horror movies because of it

Cartman prefers Rom-Coms (blame Liane)

Craig's Gang HCs

Craig doesn't like coffee, so Tweek makes him a hot cocoa instead. With extra love ^^

Tweek is a bird freak. He fuckin loves birds. He has a cockatoo named Java. craig suggested him to call him Jupiter (named after one of my cockatiels IRL) or Neptune because space.

Tweek has ADHD

He's consumed less meth ever since he and Craig started to become lovers. Craig has helped him after he found out his parents put meth in his coffee

Clyde is the closest to being Cartman's friend than the rest of Stan's gang. Cartman even supports him being a bit chubby

Aside from the rest of Craig's gang and Timmy, Jimmy is friends with Kenny, who crack jokes at each other from time to time. In general, Jimmy is pretty chill with most people, especially Stan's gang

Tolkien is closer to Stan and Kyle (also canonically happened in the show) who he hangs out with. They enjoy playing music together, which all 3 have a passion for as well as sports, especially Token since he's a pro at both bass and drums

Tolkien is the most sporty and physically active out of the gang, being a pro at basketball and football and is in the same basketball team as Stan

All of them are pretty much A to B+ students

Both Craig and Tweek have travel bags for their pets when they walk around town, woods/wilderness or go on holiday

Token is the most sane out of the gang aside from Craig. He'd be the one who'd tell everyone to calm down when Tweek and Clyde freak out or in rare cases, everyone else besides him

All randomly watch Big Bang Theory or Always Sunny when chilling together. Jimmy and Craig chose them

Clyde is the most extroverted compared to the rest of the gang, while Craig is the most introverted

Tweek loves Rom Coms, he sometimes forces Craig to watch them with him

South Park (c) Trey & Matt

#south park #sp fandom #sp headcanons #south park headcanons #south park hcs #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #butters stotch #wendy testaburger #bebe stevens #craig tucker #tweek tweak #tolkien #clyde donovan #jimmy valmer #headcanon #headcanons

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