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sports-on-sundays · 1 day

Text

lucky strike / CL16

Summary: Charles x American!female!reader - F1 comes to Sin City and you unexpectedly run into a certain someone.

Warnings: gambling, alcohol, cussing, use of pet names (A LOT), flirting, one moment of implied jealousy

Requested?: Sort of! Thank you to everyone who voted for Charles in the poll!

Author's Note: Charles won out in the poll, so here you go, everybody! (Of course I HAD to use The Charles Vegas Podium Picture). Also, I listened to Lucky Strike by Maroon 5 while writing.

one in a million ; my lucky strike

Well, you thought the whole F1 thing was absolutely ridiculous. You couldn't care an ounce less about Formula 1, so you certainly weren't happy about all the complications of it coming to your city.

You would call yourself an all American girl, and you're proud of it. If any racing, NASCAR. Football is the sport with the brown ball you throw- NFL, not the white and black ball you kick. That's soccer. You have the greatest food, the greatest mix of cultures, the greatest weather. If you didn't know better, you'd say you have the greatest country, too.

You watched a Formula 1 race when you realized the whole Las Vegas Grand Prix thing was actual, and when you saw that (firstly) it was honestly pretty boring, and (secondly) the only American driver is basically the most sucky one, you decided it would be pretty hard to get into it.

You're a Vegas girl, and you're proud of it. You're actually from Los Angeles, California, but you moved to Vegas to chase your dreams and live the life you dreamed of a year ago with your boyfriend, and it was so worth it.

Now you identify yourself with Vegas even more than you do with the Los Angeles Rams, despite the fact that your boyfriend broke up with you seven months ago and left to go be a prodigal son in New York City.

You decided Vegas was perfect enough for your clever hand, and you'd continue to be a prodigal daughter right where you're at.

But now the Grand Prix is the newest thing, and you don't like it at all. All these people flooding in, like as if there's not already enough people. Just to watch some cars drive around in circles, closing up main roads? No, you're not into it.

Your girl friends all seem to think this is just the best thing, and you discuss it across the table with two of them. One says, "Honestly, the McLaren duo are the hottest."

"No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?" your other friend disagrees.

You snort in disbelief and say sarcastically, "How about neither? So you guys only care about this because the racers are hot? Give me a break."

"Well," one of your friends starts, crossing her arms across her chest, "They are hot. At first, I wasn't so sure, but, I mean, come on! Maybe we could get glimpses of them when they're in Vegas!"

"Or meet them!" your other friend pipes in.

You scoff. "Good luck with that. Aren't these guys self-focused millionaires with too much money for their own good? Probably all greedy idiots who hook up with every half-sexy girl who comes along. So if you're into that, sure, waste your time trying to meet some hot plutocrats, with the one percent chance you might get f*cked like crazy for a night before they forget about you and move back to their mansions across the world! F*ck, is race car driving even a real sport? It's f*cking driving cars. I could do that!"

Your friends don't really argue with you, because you're right. And clearly, they do only care about the hot racers, because you figure any real fan of the sport would argue with you.

Two days before the Strip is supposed to be closed up for the Grand Prix, you find yourself submerged in the vibrant energy of Wynn Las Vegas, the dazzling lights and sounds of the casino floor swirling around you. The scent of alcohol lingers in the air, a reminder of the drinks you've indulged in throughout the night.

You slip between two people to reach the roulette wheel, holding your newly bought chips, with money you've earned earlier in the night.

Bets are placed around the table over and over, as you earn more and more chips. You feel someone nudge your shoulder, and a cocky male voice comments next to you, "You're having a good night, huh?"

"Every night is a good night," you remark back, not even glancing up at the man talking with you. He seems to have some sort of accent that you can't place. Perhaps French?

Which means he's probably from Louisiana. Possibly Quebec.

Probably some rich idiot F1 fan who can afford to travel half way across the country for the Grand Prix.

You don't plan to even give him the light of day.

"Until it's not," he says as you watch the roulette wheel spin once more.

You smirk and feel his eyes on you as you collect more chips.

The game goes on, and you think he's gotten the message that you don't care to converse with him, because does shut up.

But now it's the last bet of the game. You take a sip from your glass and feel a stupid, risky streak in you.

Some idiot part of you that's drunk and wants to push her luck way too far.

You place a straight-up bet, all your chips on the number sixteen.

You can feel eyes on you, and the same man next to you from earlier says, "Are you stupid?"

You chuckle. "Possibly."

"You're going to lose all your-"

"No, I won't." You straighten your back, staring at the wheel. It's true, you've earned a lot of money throughout this game.

And honest, it is true that you're stupid.

But it's also true that for some reason, you're confident.

"So you're overconfident and risky? I like that," comments the guy next to you. "But you're going to lose all your money. All that good luck for nothing..."

"You'll see," you breathe, ignoring his little flirt. "It's going to land on sixteen."

"Sixteen, huh?" This man's hazel eyes sparkle, and something in you tells you that you've seen this guy's brown locks, bright dimples, and perfect stubble before.

You've seen him somewhere. Recently. Like some guy you could haven't been drunk with, but the memory is fuzzy.

But you weren't drunk with him.

Despite being sure you've seen this guy before, you're also sure you've never met him before, either.

"Yeah," you nod, looking away, staring as the roulette wheel begins spinning. "It's my lucky number."

You're not looking at him, but you can feel him grin next to you. "Your lucky number, huh? Just so happens, it's mine, too."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Is that some lame attempt of a flirt?"

"No. It really is my lucky number." By his tone, you can tell that grin has downgraded to a smirk. "But if you'd like to see a lame attempt of a flirt, that's an option, too..." His voice lowers as you feel his arm snake around you, and his hand land on your waist.

You gently shove it off as the wheel begins to slow. You hold your breath, watching, this stupid French boy no longer even a fraction of your concerns. All focus is on your slight potential lucky strike.

And then the world stops as the wheel stops, too.

On sixteen.

And then it all comes flooding back. "Oh my God!" you squeal stupidly, covering your mouth as there's rounds of, "You've got to be kidding me," "No way," "It's impossible!" and "How lucky is this girl?"

You feel surges of shock and pride as you collect all your money. Once you've received it, after such luck, and earning a fortune, you decide you're going to have a drink. Or more than just one.

But when you turn, there's that guy again.

"What's up?" you ask, the grin on your face impossible to wipe off.

"How did you know it was going to stop on sixteen?" he questions, and he looks a little more handsome than he did before as this time he succeeds in taking your waist.

"Are you trying to pick my pocket?" you question warily, though, shoving his hand away.

"Not at all," he chuckles, "But you're a smart girl, aren't you? And I think I might be a lucky boy. Come on- I'll buy you a drink."

You snort. "No way, pretty boy! I can buy my own drink, after what just happened! How cocky are you?"

"Call me cocky, or call me rich, but either way, you're too sexy to have to pay for your own drink."

You scoff at this, but figure that you can't really let down an offer of free stuff. You'll be the first to admit you're greedy. Once of the biggest reasons why you gamble is because you want money- duh- and as much of it as you can get.

So soon, you're sitting at a table with this random guy, looking into his eyes, holding your drink in your hand. After barely a moment of hesitation, your curiosity finally gets to you, and you ask, "Who are you, anyway? I could have sworn I've seen you somewhere recently."

He gets a smug look on his face, which you don't like, before he says, "You really don't know?"

Your nose crinkles up in confusion, and for a second you feel ultra worried. Is this someone that I've met, that I should remember? Am I a terrible person for not knowing who this is...?

But then he says simply, "My first name is Charles. Charles Leclerc."

You stare at the taller individual, knowing you've heard that name, trying desperately to wrack your brain of it.

And then, suddenly, it hits you.

Loudly, in your head, in your friend's voice, in the exact tone she said it, 'No way- Ferrari! Have you seen Charles Leclerc?'

"Wait-!" you say in shock. You can see the satisfaction on the man's face, Charles, as you realize. "So, you're one of those F1 racers? Like, you race for the Ferrari team?"

He snorts and nods. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize me right away. Do you live here in Vegas?"

"Yeah," you say simply, taking a sip of your drink.

"So I take it you hate Formula 1, then? Because how else are you living in Vegas right now and don't know my name, or recognize my face?"

"You sound awfully prideful."

Suddenly, he smirks, and drags his finger across your jawline, pulling your face to look up at him in the process. "Maybe so. But clearly you're not so much better yourself, Miss Bet It All On Sixteen."

You cock an eyebrow at him and return his smirk with a challenging grin. "Sure, but I was right. I won what I wanted."

"Hmm... Well, what if I'm about to win what I want?"

"Oh, yeah? And what is it that you want?"

He leans in closer, so you can feel his hot breath tickle your ear as he utters simply, "You, baby."

You smirk. "We just met, buddy. I'm not that stupid."

"I think you're just playing hard to get."

"Or maybe it's just hard for you to get me," you counter.

"Well, I like your spunk. And your good luck. I think I might need a little bit more of that." He leans away a bit, and comments, "And I think I foresee a little bit more of luck in your future."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," he smirks, leaning in closer. In barely any second, his lips meet yours, and though you know you should, there's no way you're pulling away now. He wraps his arm around you, urging you to lean into the kiss. You melt, letting him.

You don't know what it is.

But in this moment, you gently let your lips part, inviting his tongue to slip in between your lips, allowing yourself to, yes, make out with basically a stranger.

It wouldn't be the first time, but it also isn't something you do for fun whenever you feel.

When you finally force yourself to pull away, the first thing you breathe is, "How did you do that?"

He grins, and is clearly red in the face. But there's a look of shock on his face, too. As if his flirty cover was just confidence, and not because he gets tons of girls like this...?

Or maybe you're just reading too much into his expression.

Either way, he responds with, stroking your cheek, "No idea. Maybe I just have a way with you?"

You roll your eyes as you check your purse. No, he didn't pickpocket. He meant to kiss you. You stand up and say simply, "Well, I better get going n-"

"Sorry, what?" he suddenly snatches your arm back, pulling you back down to sit again with a surprised chuckle. "You just met a famous millionaire race car driver who bought you a drink after you won big money in roulette, let him make out with you, loved it, and now you're just going to casually walk off?"

You grin. "What? Do you think I was impressed by you? Think again, honey. Just because you drive cars fast and make ridiculous amounts of stupid money for it, and that you're insanely handsome- none of that means I'm any more impressed with you than I am with any other guys I meet on my night outs."

"Hm," he raises an eyebrow, and says, "What if you could get more from me, missy? Clearly, you're out for yourself and will do anything for a good deal. And you're f*cking sexy about it, too. So what if I had something else to offer you?"

You let yourself sit down at this, looking at him expectantly.

He smirks, clearly loving that he's 'won you over,' before saying simply, "Would like a free pass to the whole weekend, and a pass for the paddock?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, and your eyes widen. "I- what?"

His smirk grows even bigger. "You heard me."

You inhale sharply, but cross your arms across your chest and come out sharply saying, "Unfortunately for you, I couldn't care less about Formula 1. In fact, I'm starting to dislike it a lot. But thanks for the offer."

His jaw drops, and his eyes practically pops out of his head, which gets a chuckle from you. For a moment, he's actually speechless, before he finally gets out, "Are you aware of the offer you just refused?"

You raise an eyebrow, not able to keep the cheeky grin off your face. "Probably not, but that's okay. Why, anyways, would you give a stranger such an opportunity in the first place? You probably have ulterior motives, and I think I can pretty much guess what they are, mister. You don't even know my name yet."

"Oh, God, you're right," he laughs, taking another sip of his drink. "Well, what's your name, princess?"

You roll your eyes, and tell him.

He grins. "It's been wonderful meeting you." He digs in the pocket of his light blue jeans, and pulls out a pen and a restaurant receipt. "I know you think you'll be able to forget me so easily, princess," he starts, scribbling something on the receipt, "but trust me- you'll be wanting this." He takes your hand and presses the receipt into it, before standing up just like that, and saying with a wave as he turns to walk off, "I'll talk to you later, angel."

You look down at the receipt to see a phone number scribbled on it in chicken scratch. But the numbers are clear. And though you walk out that night rolling your eyes at this Charles's boldness and cockiness, with an abundance of money you've earned that's a lot more worth the stupid grease-stained receipt, the moment you get back to your apartment, the first thing you intend to is putting that stupid number into your phone.

"This is stupid," you comment as you slide into the backseat, next to Charles.

He just rolls his eyes. "You won't be saying that by the end of this experience. Besides, you were the one who decided to text me, like I said you would. You were just playing hard to get."

You scoff. "Oh, shut up."

"You look lovely, by the way," he comments in a lower voice. "I like that skirt." You look down at yourself. You're wearing a matching crop top shirt and short skirt, your sunglasses holding your hair back away from your face, and brown sandals.

"Thanks," you snort, crossing your arms and looking out the window, turning your gaze away from the Monégasque driver. (Yes, you did, despite yourself, look him up last night, just to know who the heck this guy even is.)

(You also were sure to look up his salary.)

(Ridiculous.)

(But also intriguing.)

Soon enough, before you know it, you're walking alongside him, about to enter the 'paddock.'

Makes it sound like a bunch of horses racing.

But when you're there, surrounded by it, in the moment, you don't think rude comments like that.

You stop, taking in the high life atmosphere. The revving car noises, the lights of The Strip on the 'racetrack,' the crowds, the music, the richness, and the challenge.

Your breathing falters, and your heart beat quickens as your hand involuntarily finds Charles's wrist and grips it as you gasp, "It's... extraordinary."

You glance to Charles's face to see him softly grinning. His hand slips down to hold yours as he comments, "You seemed like the type of girl to love it."

Your smile widens. "I've been here so many times. On The Strip. But... it's not the same. How did they do it?"

He begins walking, pulling you along by your hand as you look around. "That's just Formula 1 for you. There's nothing in the world quite like it, Y/n."

He leads you by the hand toward the Ferrari garage. Once you're there, he says, "Want to meet my teammate, Carlos?"

"Don't know who Carlos is, but sure..." you say vaguely, taking in the large piece of machinery- the Formula 1 car- in front of you.

He chuckles. "You're f*cking adorable," he murmurs, before leading you away to see Carlos.

He's a well-built man with fluffy dark hair, tan skin, big brown cow eyes, and stubble. Pretty much looks like exactly how you'd imagine a Formula 1 driver to look.

He nods respectfully. "Hey, Charles," he says, and shakes your hand with a friendly wink. "This your new girlfriend?"

You look up to see Charles smirk. "Not yet."

One of Carlos's thick, dark eyebrows cocks up, and the suggestion of an amused smirk travels on his lips for a second. "Ah, I see."

"Charles!" you snap, your eyebrows scrunches together. "Not ever."

"Well, we'll see about that. So far, I've been the right one, now, princess, haven't I?"

"Pfft. I was right about sixteen, wasn't I?"

He rolls his eyes as Carlos says with a chuckle, "Well, it will sure be interesting to see how this plays out," before moving on with his life.

Charles takes the time to show you around, and halfway through the tour, you blurt suddenly, "So, this is all the Italian team and stuff. Isn't there an American team?"

"Hmmm," Charles snorts as his eyebrows travel farther up and he fights off a seemingly somewhat mocking smirk. "There is."

"Why don't you show me them? Don't they have an American driver? Like, Carlos is Italian, right? Isn't it protocol or somethin'? Anyway, isn't it called Williams, the American team, or something? Some guy named Logan something that's an American racer on there-"

At this, Charles can't seem to hold it together anymore, and doubles over laughing, essentially, at you.

"What?!" you demand indignantly.

"You really are clueless!"

"I-"

"Alright, alright, Y/n. Haas is the American team. They don't have an American driver- German and Danish. No, Carlos is not Italian; he's from Spain. Williams is British, and yes, Logan Sargeant races for Williams, and he is American. About the only thing you got right."

You roll your eyes with a shrug. "I told you I don't give a damn about this stupid sport."

"Whatever you say, Miss Starry Eyes."

So, first Charles takes you to Haas, where you learn, surprisingly, that not all the racers are young hotshots like Charles and Carlos at least seem to be. They're friendly enough there, but really don't care much to give you any of their time, so then Charles suggests to go to the Williams garage and see if there's Logan to bother. You agree to that, so soon, you're entering Williams.

As soon as you see Logan, you know he's the American. You can see it in his stance. You can see it in his golden blond slightly sweeped hair, gray blue eyes, and strong jawline. "That's Logan, isn't it?"

"How'd you know?"

You shrug, breaking off from Charles to Logan. "Hey! You're the only American 'round here?!" you ask with a friendly grin.

"Huh?" he asks, looking up, in the most United States of America way. "Oh, hi," he says in what you perceive as dumbly, with a friendly smile. Ah, that's more like it. None of these posh Monacan boys and hot Spanish men- this guy is just like home sweet home!

You can practically hear the eagles cawing over the Rocky Mountains!

"You're Logan Sargeant?"

He nods. "I am. And you are...?"

"Just some Vegas girl dragged here by Charles."

"Ah... so you know him?"

"Well, now, unfortunately, yes."

His eyebrows furrow, but he chuckles at the same time. Though this guy isn't nearly as handsome or charming as Charles, there's something about him you like a bit more-

Suddenly, a hand is on your waist, and hot breath says in your ear, "Got to be getting back to Ferrari now. Come on with me?"

You blush and nod. "Right, Charles."

You have no idea what to think of him.

"Podium?! Uh- is a podium good?!" you ask, eyes wide as Charles brings it home in second.

"Yeah, yeah, it's good!" some guy you don't know wearing red near you says.

"Oh- Alright, well- That's good, I suppose!" you respond a little manically.

As soon as Charles as the chance, he finds you. He still has champagne on his race suit and his face is glistening with sweat, and there's no way you can deny it- he's sexy. When he reaches you, he wraps his arms around you, and his stunning eyes seem to burn into you. He can't fight the grin off his face as he says lowly, "Get why my lucky number is sixteen, baby girl?"

"Ah, stop with that," you snap, your voice cracking. You don't know, but this seems- all this seems-

Way too important.

You reach up to touch the number sixteen on his hat, before taking it off his head and slipping it on your own, backwards, on impulse.

He grins. "You can keep it. Not like you'll need a keepsake. You won't forget me."

You bite your lip, giving a quick nod, still studying his handsome face. Your eyes linger on his light pink lips, which arch into a perfect cupid's bow, as you murmur absently, "You seem pretty confident about that, huh?"

"Of course I do. Looks like you might be my little good luck charm, hm? Can't be letting you run away from me, can I?"

"Hm. Well, we'll see about that."

"Still playing hard to get?"

"Not playing. I just am hard to get."

"Whatever you say, darling," he comments with a shrug, walking off.

The French accent is pretty sexy.

Your eyes flutter open, and the first thing you see are the big earnest eyes of Charles Leclerc, staring back into your eyes. "Morning sunsh-"

Your immediate reaction is to scream and promptly slap him across his pretty face.

He grunts as his hand flies to his cheek to cover it up, and he says, "Hey, hey, calm down!"

But your eyes scan the room. It's clearly a hotel room. There's only one bed: the one you and Charles are laying in right at this moment. You're wearing a large black T-shirt and big blue gym shorts very tightly tied to fit your waist. Charles is dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans with a white T-shirt underneath, his regular jewelry, and white sneakers. So clearly, he's already showered and gotten dressed. He smells like his rich cologne, and his hair is all washed and fluffy and clean. If you weren't in a slight panic right now, you'd have wondered if you could touch his hair and feel how soft it is.

But!

As you're about to gasp out questions, Charles sits up and gently sets his hand on top of yours. You become aware of the pounding in your head as you bite your lip nervously. Charles looks at you earnestly, and says calmly, "Hey, you don't have to worry. It's okay."

"What happened?" you exhale.

"Nothing," he soothes. "We went out. You got more drunk than any of us though you should. I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my hotel room. Gave you clothes to change into, and we went to sleep. Nothing more."

You swallow an anxious lump in your throat. "How do I know I can trust you? Please, just be honest with me. I won't be mad. You didn't know any bet-"

"I didn't do anything. We didn't do anything. Okay?" he leans in closer, and reaches to cup your cheeks in his hands. "'Kay? Can you just trust me?"

You bite your lip, but slowly nod. "I suppose that's the only thing I can do."

Over six months later, you stand on the boat, staring out at the Mediterranean Sea, smelling the salty breeze in the air, feeling content, wearing a loose button down, light blue jean shorts with a brown belt, your slew of bracelets, white sneakers, and a headband holding back your hair.

Suddenly, Charles is up next to you. "Hey, princess." For months, you've had what you stubbornly call a 'situationship,' whilst Charles calls you his girlfriend.

Because you love Vegas more than you love Charles (or at least that's what you like to say), you refused to leave when Charles did. You like taking risks. Just not the 'travelling halfway across the world for a hot guy' kind of risks.

But you stayed in touch. Charles made sure of that.

Well, he meant it when he said he'd make sure you'll never forget him.

But then Formula 1 came back to the States, to Miami, and you knew you'd have to make the trip. The flirty comments and romantic tension thick enough to cut ensued as soon as you and Charles set eyes upon each other, like as if it hadn't been six months or so since you'd last seen each other last.

It just felt like-

Somehow fate is involved.

Well, when Charles invited you to the Monaco Grand Prix, that was an offer you felt you couldn't let down.

And, boy, was that the best descision of your life.

To see Charles win his home race like that, and to be there? Just thinking about it now gives you goosebumps. Charles had wrapped his arms around you after the race, his eyes a little damp, and you felt something more.

Like he really cared.

If you didn't know better, you'd say it was like he really loved.

Loved you.

But, no. Of course not. That can't be.

Can it?

Well, all night you partied. You were in on the fun. You also made sure to pay a visit to the Monte Carlo casino, as you obviously must.

You had amazing luck, once again.

On this thought, as you feel Charles approaching from behind you, you comment into the wind, "You know, I'm starting to think you're my lucky charm, honey."

He chuckles, coming up next to you. "Oh, yeah? That's what I said six months ago when I first met you, you know. I've been starting to think the same thing about you."

You snort. "Maybe so, Monaco race winner."

He smirks, and you can feel the pure joy radiating off him. He slips his hand into yours as he murmurs, "I was so lucky to meet you."

I smirk. "I am pretty awesome."

He rolls his eyes, but squeezes your hand. "So, do you like it here in Monaco?"

You nod vigorously. "Gosh, Charles, it's amazing."

"Better than Vegas?"

"Well- I don't know if anything is better than Vegas..."

He leans in closer and speaks lower. "Well, would Monaco be better if your good luck charm just so happens to reside here?"

"Hm..." you smirk, flushing a bit. "I'd have to think about that, prince."

"Yeah," he nod, his tone softer. "Why don't you."

There's some silence, as you watch the sun begin to set, reflecting off the sparkling water.

Charles leans even closer to you, his hands gliding around your waist, pulling you towards him. He leans down, gazing deeply into your eyes. Then that stupid flirty grin appears on his face again. "F*cking gorgeous you are, one in a million. I struck lucky with you. My lucky strike."

He closes the distance between you, his soft lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss. The heat of his body against yours sends shivers down your spine, igniting a spark between you as your tongues dance together in a sensual embrace. Connected.

Maybe it's not fate.

But it is most certainly luck.

And in this moment, with the lips of the winner of Monaco sucking on yours, you feel like the one who struck it lucky.

110 notes · View notes

coffeeshopguest · 2 days

Note

I stumbled upon an ad for like an inflatable sex bed(you can search it up if you dont Know) and I need a fanfic asap which the farmer like bought one without knowing what it was and like Sebastian coming over and seeing it and the end up "testing" it out ifykm (BTW LOVE UR WORK)

The "Air Mattress"

Word Count: 1793 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of smoking, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex (should be all, lmk if I missed any!) (Art by @.mkun on steamcommunity)

The package outside of the farm surprised Sebastian, what could you have possibly ordered this time? Never the less, he plucked it off the steps of the porch and knocked on the door. He was over to hangout for a bit, so he might as well carry the thing in. The door swung open and he smiled a little, your face brightening when you saw the package in his hands. "Oh! It's here! Awesome! Thanks," you quickly took the package from his hand and set it on the table.

"So, what is it?" Sebastian asked, leaning on the table a bit and looking at the package.

"I got a new air mattress online, well, an air couch - I think it said? I don't know, it randomly popped up. I barely looked at it."

"You just, randomly bought an air mattress?"

"Yeah! I've been having friends over more and I know it can be an annoying walk back to down in the dark, so I thought this would help," you smiled, looking back up at Sebastian and he couldn't help but smile back. Always thinking of others. So excited.

Well, it was just an air mattress. Nothing interesting, so the hangout presumed and the package remained forgotten on the table without a second thought.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Sebastian knocked on the door, sucker hanging out of his mouth a little. He'd been- 'trying' to quit. As in, he'd lessened the amount he smoked but he still smoked whenever he wanted. The sucker was just a distraction for him if he wasn't sure he actually wanted to smoke. He could hear the sound of something being inflated and he wondered for a moment, forgetting when you opened the door slowly. "Bad time?" he asked, frowning slightly at your facial expression.

"No, no...uh, it's fine..." you opened the door more, and he could see off to the side was - no. No it couldn't be. A fucking inflatable sex bed?

"Uhm, that new?" he joked, facing flushing a little, the sucker almost fully falling out of his mouth. You looked at it, frowning more as you stared at the inflatable bed before you.

"I- uh, looked back at the purchase when I opened the package...and..."

"It's a sex bed?" he offered, smirking slightly, he walked up to it. You had actually put the damn thing together. Handles, handcuffs hooked on it. You'd actually put it completely together. "Why didn't you just...leave it?"

"Well - there isn't a refund for it so I thought if I put it together I could maybe figure out how to make it seem less..." you sighed, rubbing your forehead a little. "Less..."

Sebastian snorted, "less like a sex bed?" he asked, as he looked at it, "well, the handcuffs clipped to it don't help at all," he added with a mock tone of helpfulness. Then, he began to smirk even more.

He popped the sucker out of his mouth, walking up to the bed on the floor and crouching down, "so...like...it's for couples to try out positions on, and all that?" he voiced, glancing back at you. You looked absolutely mortified at the fact he was standing near it and that only made Sebastian smile more.

"I guess..."

Standing back up he walked to the kitchen, trashing his sucker, he unzipped his jacket and rested it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He gently leaned against the chair, studying you. "Well if you can't get a refund on it, I suppose we might as well test the thing out. See if it's worth the money. What'd you spend on the thing anyway?"

He couldn't help but laugh a little at the way your eyes widened in slight shock at his comment, "uh...$70ish maybe?" you mumbled, eyes quickly looking away from Sebastian. He could feel himself nearly chuckle, but he kept it in. "Test it out?" you finally added slowly, looking up at him.

"Yeah, you know, test the thing out? Might as well, what else can you do with it?" he asked easily, slowly walking back over towards the inflated bed. "Let's see how it goes."

Your head bobbed pathetically in agreement and Sebastian smiled slightly, lips connecting with yours. He easily leaned you against the mattress, making sure you were comfortable the entire time. Sure you'd had feelings for Sebastian that had sat with you since you'd originally moved into Pelican Town, and sure you'd wanted to be with him for a while - this wasn't exactly the way you'd anticipated it happening though - not that you were complaining.

He propped his knees on the bed, keeping you laid back, his lips trailed to your jaw, moving towards your neck.. Soft teeth biting at your sensitive skin, you felt a pathetic whine escape your lips. "Sebastian~" you could feel the smirk against your skin causing shivers to run down you.

"God, you are so reactive, hm?" his hands moved from beside your body, quickly running down your skin, he tugged at the hem of your shirt but stopped before trying to take it off. Instead his lips trailed to your collarbone, nipping softly there. His tongue lapped at the skin, swirling over the spots he'd bitten and you knew he was leaving hickeys on you - hickeys that your summer clothes wouldn't conceal. Your hands ran up to his hair, raking your fingers through it. Once you reached the middle, your fingers gripped, tugging slightly. He let out a soft groan. "Fuck...alright, impatient," his lips reconnected with yours upon your tug.

You let his hands wander up your shirt, cupping your breasts through your bra, slowly his thumb rolled over your nipple as it hardened under his touch. Your hips pathetically rolled underneath him, trying to gain any friction. Any satisfaction you could get. Bucking your hips up to try and meet his hips. With a smirk against your lips, Sebastian shoved his hips against you, the clothing between you two left you feeling unsatisfied even as he humped you through the clothing. "M-more?" you practically whined out, fingers pulling on his dyed locks. He pulled back with a grin.

"Needy, hm?" he quickly ripped off your shirt, "s'okay, I find it hot," he added, lips reconnecting with your collarbone, hands running to your back, finding the bra clasp and quickly fumbling to undo it. As expert as he was with words and attitude, this was the moment you realized he might be a little inexperienced. He struggled, a soft cuss escaping him before he gave up. Instead he tugged it over your head, throwing it aside. He propped your back against the mattress, slowly spreading your legs. "Mind handcuffs?" he asked, but he was already cuffing you. You shook your head, letting him cuff you to to bed.

"Don't mind-" you murmured before his lips reconnected with yours. His tongue slowly graced along your bottom lip, before his teeth bit at it, you quickly opened your mouth and he slipped his tongue into your mouth and eagerly explored it. After a few moments, he pulled back, panting, he propped himself back, examining you laying on the bed. Hands handcuffed to the sides. Shirtless. His eyes flickered down to your jeans and then back up to your eyes.

Hesitantly, he moved to unzip your jeans, unbuttoning slowly. "You alright with this?" he whispered slowly. You nodded eagerly.

"More than," he smiled at that answer, slowly unzipping the jeans. He easily took them off, throwing them aside. Leaving you in just panties. He studied you like this, eyes raking over your body eagerly. His hand gently rubbed you through the panties, lips kissing yours. Moans escaped your lips, and as your lips parted his tongue slipped back into your mouth. When he decided he made you eager enough - a pathetic wet spot soaking through your panties, he finally took those off.

He didn't say anything for a moment, making you feel vulnerable. Your body instinctively moved to close your legs, but Sebastian caught them, slowly spreading them. He smiled softly. "I've wanted to do this for so long, don't hide from me," he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "Been thinking about this since I saw this bed."

Sebastian undid his own jeans, and through his boxers you saw his erection sticking up. Once those were off you finally saw him. Eyes widening a little, he smirked slightly. "Nervous? That's okay, it's my first time too," he placed another kiss on your forehead, hands moving to grip the bed above your head. Slowly, he moved to shove himself in. Just the tip first, you bit your lip pathetically as whines erupted from you. He stopped, waiting for you to take the tip without complaint - once you seemed calm he began pushing more. It took a few minutes, and the occasional reassurance, before he was fully in. "I'm gonna thrust now, okay?" you nodded weakly as he slowly pulled back, then pushed himself back in. Your hands pathetically moved to try and grip him, but the handcuffs kept them in place. "S'okay, baby, next time I'll take those off and you can rake those nails down my back, how does that sound?"

"So...so good~" you whimpered back, moaning as he pulled out and slowly pushed back in. For a while he let you adjust to this steady pace, not increasing until you seemed comfortable and then picking it up. He became a little eager, gripping the bed and tossing his head back as he thrusted into you. The slapping sound filled the room as you slowly bucked your hips up to meet him. Soft groans escaped him, and he bit his lip a little as he thrusted, lost in the feeling.

Your walls tightly clenched around him, and Sebastian let out a pathetic whine of pleasure, his hands gripping the bed. Moaning out his pace picked up, hearing the slapping sound of skin and the intertwined moans made you get even closer. "Cum...cum on my dick, please...fuck," Sebastian encouraged, grunting as he tried his best to give you as much satisfaction as possible. You felt the heat in your stomach, the tightening knot, and then your mind fell blank. Saying his name like a mantra, Sebastian groaned out, head thrown back as you came all over his dick, quickly he pulled out, spilling his seed onto your stomach.

"Please...please tell me you're keeping the mattress?" he asked, as he slowly pried himself off you.

Tag List:

@essenceofsunflower

comment if you want to be tagged in future sebastian fics!

#sdv smut #farmer x sebastian #sdv x reader #stardew valley smut #sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x reader #female x sdv sebastian #sdv sebastian x female reader #stardew valley sebastian #f!farmer x sebastian #stardew valley x reader #sebastian sdv smut #stardew valley sebastian smut #stardew valley

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melodic-haze · 1 day

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alright think about this jealous sex with arlecchino. Maybe she’s been hanging out with columbina too much.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Thr briefest mention of petplay, rough sex ig, that's basically it 🤷‍♀️

Ohhhhmygod the way Arlecchino talks of her so very fondly too like it's VERY easy to be jealous I think. Like I'm not really a jealous or a possessive person but even then I'd give like a slight side eye

The Knave was just spending a BIT too much time with Columbina for your tastes. You ask if you could hang out w her, she tells you she has a prior engagement with the other Harbinger. You go to talk to her, she's already talking with Damselette. Frankly, she's acc taking the piss❗️❗️❗️

It just. Drives you up the FUCKING WALL but yk. "Do unto others what you want done to you" or smth like that idk the saying

"I-- I'm going to--"

"You are not doing anything unless I tell you to."

You feel her hands grip onto your hair as you practically abused her cunt with your fingers. If you weren't pinning her to the wall and holding her up, you were sure that as formidable as she was, her legs would've buckled down from the overwhelming stimulation and the lack of release whenever she reached her very peak.

(With the strength of her grip, youu also thanked archons above that despite everything, she was careful enough to not claw at your scalp. That wasn't the most important thing right now, though.)

"You know," you idly mused—taunted, even—as you curled your digits within her, "we could've been doing something better. We could've been having tea, tending to your children, having so much more fun than this. And yet what do you do?"

You pulled your fingers away, slick glistening and forming a faintly connecting line before snapping, and you hear a desperate whimper that you pointedly ignore, "You pass all that up for your fellow Harbinger."

"But she can't make you feel good like I do, can she?" You slapped her thigh harshly, to which you ignore her surprised gasp too—you knew she could handle much more anyway, "Nobody else can have you all pliant and breathless like this. Not her, not anyone."

Arlecchino actually makes a move to nod instead of standing there all dumb, "Only.. Only for you.. my love, I--"

"Only for me?"

"Yes..!"

Answering like an over-eager dog. Actually hilarious.

You stand up and press your fingers harshly inside of her, and just when she feels utter delight in tbe thought of you finally granting mercy on a sinner such as her?

"Move."

"..What?"

"You heard me, my love," the affectionate pet name overshadowed by your mocking tone, "if you want to get off, then move. Surely you can manage such a simple task, right?"

It's unsaid that you want her to move on her own to show her dedication to you...

But either she caught on or she was desperate for the feeling of you inside her, for she leaned her head and started to grind her pussy onto your offered hand.

Only you were allowed to command her like this.

Need to constantly alternate between edging her and overstimming her, both to such UNBEARABLE levels bc SURELY she can handle it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Absolutely use her in ANY way you could think of; by this point she's a hole for you to use and vent your jealousy to, all while repeating some kinda mantra about how Columbina could never do the things you do to her

Remind her that only YOU could make her feel the things she does, remind her that only YOU could have her bend to your will, both literally and metaphorically. Doesn't matter to you how powerful she is!! Could be an eldrich horror and you don't gaf

At the end of the day, you have utterly corrupted her—trained her—in the ways that she (or anyone) had never imagined. You've absolutely ruined her for everyone else

You just. Need to remind her with a LOT of torture 🥰 break this supposed monster all over again, make her remember just who, exactly, tamed her 🥰🥰🥰

Whether it's by stuffing her with so many toys all in the lowest settings or absolutely filling her up over and over and over and OVER until all traces of the angel-like Harbinger is completely fucked out of her mind 🫶🫶🫶🫶

#hazy demos!#hazy explicits!#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #sub arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

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fairuzfan · 2 days

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Literally studying to be a journalist right now and the number one thing my course teaches is that you're supposed to present all available facts, don't let one group's voice dominate, and to always say just how you got information and what you do and don't know and why. Every major news network in the US is failing to do that right now but that Atlantic article is making me lose it extra from a professional perspective on top of from a human perspective. It's so easy to, instead of saying that something terrible is legal in a certain context, say that the ruling-class and/or occupying government considers it legal, and then dive into what exactly legality means for the victims in question and what the victims' government's power is in relation to the occupier. "It's legal," okay, to who and what is their history and current sociopolitical relations and what does legality mean due to those things. It's basic ethics and morals and the Atlantic and everyone else is shitting the bed and it's literally the opposite of what you're taught to do, which is just adding to my fury and disgust. Fuck all these journalists fuck these news companies. May they rot in hell and be used as stomach-churning examples of what never to do in future history and journalism classes, amen

Yeah at one point I wanted to go into journalism but stopped after a few classes so seeing like very intro level journalistic malpractice is soooo shocking to me and I'm not even an amateur.

Not to mention the article is clearly biased against hamas in a way that makes the reader already attribute the fault of the children's deaths towards them (they literally talk about human shields as a reason for it being legal to kill children). If you read the article that is definitely what the author is trying to say. The only difference is that they are saying "it might make some people uncomfortable but it's not *illegal*" which is a pointless statement to make overall.

But anyways it's literally one of the worst articles I've read these past few months, I'm so surprised this wasn't an opinion piece and just a straight up actual "news" article.

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theillustraitor · 2 days

Text

My human Dan design! Plus some ghost Dan to practice drawing him.

I'll explain more in depth below the cut for those who are curious, but the basic ideas for why he looks this way is that his human half is a mix of Danny and Dan(with a small sprinkle of Vlad). It was supposed to eventually match his ghost form more, but things had to be cut short on that path so he got kinda stuck with a middle of the road body(he's roughly late teens).

I'm desperate for him to not look exactly like Danny, but I also had this funny idea that he would somehow end up attending Casper High after he is decently redeemed(so his human body had to be younger than his ghost form). Like just imagine the interactions. Dan would *definitely* get revenge on Dash lol

More detailed explanation:

The clone Dan was stuck in was pretty much constantly destabilizing post AGIT. This was due to the imperfect nature of them, Dan's high power, and the physical difference between the two forms. Vlad and Danny kept it from totally falling apart by using the ecto-dejecto. They had to use it *a lot* though.

Vlad tweaked the clone to be able to be shaped by Dan's ghost(to fix the incongruence of the bodies, and to possibly make it so the body could handle Dan's power better). This is what led to the mixing of Dan and Danny; the body was going from Danny to Dan in terms of appearance. It was taking some time though and they were definitely going to run out of the ecto-dejecto, *especially* since Dani also needs it(I like to think that the ecto-dejecto wasn't a permanent fix, so she has to use it on occasion. There's also no way Danny would give a mid-morph sample at this point cause he and Dani are still pretty distrustful of Vlad.)

Since Jack had originally made the ecto-dejecto Vlad could not figure out how tf to replicate it. Jack had also forgotten how he made it because, I mean, it’s Jack(nevermind that he wouldn’t even have a reason to remember how to make something that’d help ghosts/was a failed version of an experiment)

Vlad then developed a way to convert the ectoplasmic nature of the clones to good ol’ human meat(aka permanent stabilization for Dan). Vlad ended up having to do that to Dan before his human form could completely match his ghost form, hence the mix and being physically younger than his ghost form(a note: the bodies not matching remains a problem, but not a crippling/kill him kind of one. Dan is usually in pain after going ghost, especially if he used his powers a lot, but it fades relatively fast. Additionally, he(unrelated to body stuff) cannot be ghostly for too long because the ghost half will destabilize(not goopy, time/reality)).

I also had this idea that the ghost catcher could be used to permanently fuse Dan's ghost to the human body. I doubt he's fused with the clone body in AGIT, and this would continue to be a problem with my idea; Dan is basically just puppeting/overshadowing the bodies. The catcher has a merge side, sooooo

Finally, some design stuff(and a bit about him going to Casper). As mentioned Dan looks younger, which means he is capable of attending Casper High, and he does so because he never actually finished school(and he would be able to stalk/keep an eye on Danny and the others better. By this point he no longer wants to kill them, and is instead paranoid about the possibility of them dying, so yup, stalking). He'd be put in the same grade as Jazz so they could hang out and what not.

Vlad is also glad to have any time away from Dan because they fight a lot lol

But once at Casper due to his Vlad half he plays football(Vlad fusion aside, it’s a sport where he can be violent w/o problem). Dan got a letterman jacket from that, but he still hates the popular kids so he had Sam dye it black.

The hair streak is also from Vlad, but Dan's hair style is just his ghost form's minus the whole fire thing.

His clothing style is a mix of Vlad and Danny’s(except the jacket). Shirt is from Danny, pants from Vlad, then sneakers + dress shoes = boots.

Finally, it’s a bit subtle but he has heterochromia; one eye is Danny's color, the other Vlad’s.

#danny phantom fanart #danny phantom #agit spoilers #danny fenton #dark dan #dark danny

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definitelynotshouting · 3 days

Note

Can you tell us something about Martyn or Scott in your hunger au? Completely your choice on what, I just want to see what they’re like in your au

[A COMM CALL; QUIET SPEECH FILTERED THROUGH LOW CRACKLES OF STATIC]

MARTYN

I'm not gonna lie, I didn't actually expect you to help them.

SCOTT

[A RUSTLE]

Why not? It's not like I had to do anything, really. Just— point them in the right direction and, I dunno, let them sort it out.

MARTYN

[Dryly] Yeah. I guess I just thought you'd be more... angry.

SCOTT

Me? I'm not— I wouldn't say I'm angry. Why, are you angry?

MARTYN

[SLIGHT PAUSE]

...

Y'know, that's hard to say. I don't think I'm not angry, but I'm not, like... actively mad, either?

SCOTT

Well, there you go, then. It's about the same for me, not much else to it.

MARTYN

...

Fair 'nough, I suppose.

SCOTT

Honestly, I'm surprised you're not more angry, considering all your— y'know, stuff.

MARTYN

What, just 'cause I knew Grian way back when?

SCOTT

Well yeah, obviously. You've known each other for a long time.

MARTYN

Have we? I'm not so sure anymore.

...

[Almost speaking to himself] He's felt weird for a while now, ever since he came back from Evo.

SCOTT

What's that supposed to mean?

MARTYN

Call it a hunch. I dunno, but he just feels— off. Wrong. Different? I can't put my finger on it.

[RUSTLE OF FABRIC, AS IF FROM A SHRUG]

Or— well, he did. Not like I've seen him around in a while.

SCOTT

[HUFF OF LAUGHTER]

Your superpower is freaky, Martyn, did you know that?

MARTYN

So you keep telling me.

[Teasingly] BigB thinks it's cool, though, so I don't give a damn what you have to say.

SCOTT

[Audible smile] BigB's got the superior opinion, yes, of course.

[A PAUSE]

MARTYN

...

So have you had any news yet? About if they've found him or not?

SCOTT

[With some surprise] You really want to know?

MARTYN

Yeah, man, tell me. He's still— I mean, I guess friend's a strong word now, but I still care.

SCOTT

Um, yeah, Jimmy said—

Hm.

...

MARTYN

[SMALL INCREDULOUS NOISE]

Jimmy said, did he?

SCOTT

I'm not sure why you're surprised. We do still talk, y'know.

MARTYN

Oh yeah, just— wasn't sure, is all, what with the whole— y'know, after the whole ranchers thing.

SCOTT

[Stiffly] Jimmy is... look, just because he has a boyfriend now who isn't me doesn't mean we can't whisper sometimes. Also, this is like, one of the least romantic topics you could ever talk about, so—

MARTYN

[BARK OF LAUGHTER]

God. Tell me about it.

SCOTT

Well I would, but you're too busy trying to interrogate me about Jimmy. I've got better things to do than sit here and pine, y'know?

[BRIEF SILENCE]

MARTYN

So, they found him?

...

[Press X to doubt] Right.

SCOTT

[LOW SIGH]

Yeah, they found him. Tango told Jimmy, who then told me; a bit of he said, she said...

He's in pretty rough shape.

MARTYN

[SMALL SCOFF]

That so?

SCOTT

According to Tango, yeah. Look, I didn't ask for any details, don't shoot the messenger. All I know is Jimmy said he's really sick.

MARTYN

[Wearily] Yeah, that sounds just like him. Goes haring off into the— the bloody sunset and comes back wrong immediately after. That's great.

[Slightly more upbeat] Cool, man, well— thanks for keeping me updated. I 'ppreciate it. Good luck with Tim.

SCOTT

[A LONGER SIGH]

I don't nee—

[ANOTHER PAUSE]

Okay, yes, yeah. I'll keep you up to date as best I can.

MARTYN

Maybe whisper Tango directly while you're at it. Cheers, Scott.

SCOTT

Mhm. See you around, Martyn.

[CLICK]

#martyn inthelittlewood #scott smajor #grian #hermitcraft #life series #trafficblr #mcyt #hermitblr #mcyt fic #my fics #hunger au #shouting speaks #asks #THIS COULDVE BEEN A NORMAL ANSWER BUT THAT WOULDVE BEEN PREDICTABLE OF ME #sorry this has been sitting for so long in my inbox anon. u got a transcript fic out of it tho at least #also rip flower husbands WKDNWKSK THE DRAMA WAS TOO ALLURING #txt

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deluweil · 2 days

Note

Thanks for your response to that other anon about Tommy; you’re totally right. I also was intrigued, even liked him and Buck after their first kiss. But his closet comment and behavior on their first date, like he didn’t care that Buck has LITERALLY just figured out his bisexuality and that’s A LOT to process, his dismissive attitude towards Buck’s ideas and feelings (the bachelor party henley, the “enjoy it while it lasts” at the medal ceremony)….and then add in the way some fans have gone 0 to 100 on them so quickly, even calling them endgame, and likely at least in part JUST because it’s two men…it’s become such a turn off. I was neutral, even wanted to like them at first, but now am counting the days until it ends. And it’s not because I’m a BoB or would dislike any Buck LI that isn’t Eddie. And I don’t agree with anyone getting HATE (we can sideeye and judge people’s actions ($cameos$) But I think seeing Buck in a canon male/male relationship has caused some people to lose their damn minds. Ship and let ship! Stay in your sandbox, we’ll stay in ours!

LOL I am so removed from all the crowing bummies that I have to ask wth is BoB?

I actually went to look it up and found some interesting options, I am going with this one:

"Bob" is a generic and common name, and using it can be a way of avoiding formalities or creating a relaxed and approachable atmosphere

If you have the other meaning go ahead and tell me, like bummies I understand what benefits me in the moment😂

I kinda wish ppl will look up the meaning of "comphet" (I actually looked it up) that Ryan keeps bringing up in his interviews - that way ppl can stop saying crap things about him being the one to derail Eddie-T because he was supposedly against it. - Which is bullshit, Tim repeatedly said it was because the Natalia actress couldn't come back and M actress could. - Also, Originally T was supposed to be Lucy, she just couldn't come back so they took Lou in a pinch, so Obviously the endgame sure as shit wasn't the pilot.

And you're right, T's attitude was condescending at best, I was talking about it with a mutual the other day, and said that if they really had an interest to build BT properly, also by the time they came up with BT they knew they were being renewed for S8, they could have slowed into this. Actually make Buck's coming out story, a coming out story, not "So first date was a bust, how bout you come to my sister's wedding?" like who does that?

They could have started as friends with Lou being a gay guru, they could have had private dates until Buck was actually out to everyone and ready to be seen in public.

There could have been feelings involved that developed over time.

I gave the example of Tim-Ashley vs Nolan-Bailey from The Rookie, while Ashley was fairly kept to the background (btw she got more screen time than T, just saying) while Bailey was constantly and still being weaved into the story, intricated into Nolan's life, because he was meant to end up with her.

What ppl, who seem to have never watched good tv in their lives, don't seem to understand is that there is a way to write a story, and 911 not only screwed up spectacularly with Buck and Eddie's storylines, but they managed to make it clear from the get go that any LI to come along would be written just bad enough for it to be clear that they are not lasting.

Even furious, Eddie never walked away from Buck. Even when Buck was an asshole in 2x01, Eddie stood his ground and insisted they sort it through making it clear that they are on the same side, that he cares about him and wanting to be his friend. - His partner, a team.

Tommy, like all his predecessors, walked away as soon as something didn't fit his little comfort zone. Tommy walked away on that first date, he didn't contact Buck after that, Buck had to make contact and apologize for not being comfortable on his first date with a guy, like how messed up is that?

And Tommy's little acid retort in front of Eddie in the restaurant before that? From the side it's hilarious for someone who was never in that position. It was mean and uncalled for, but not exactly a surprise because T was never much of am understanding person, he was pretty much an ass from the get go in S2, only difference now is that he is out of the closet.

How did Athena put it when Michael first brought his new bf home after they got divorced? "If Michael had cheated on me with a woman, no one would have expected me to slap on a fake smile and welcome her into my home."

And that is exactly what the GA expects us to do, so what if Buck injured Eddie for attention? He's bi now.

So what if T was an ass and pretty much dismissive towards Buck and talks to him often in a bored way like one talks to a child? He's gay now.

A certain sexual preference does not excuse bad behavior. A person's behavior is supposed to be taken at face value, and not excused just because that person is now seeing someone who happens to be of the same gender.

Crappy behavior is just that - crappy behavior - equal accountability and all that.

I actually liked Taylor for Buck in S2, I think Lucy could have been perfect for him in S5, but the writers made sure to smear their characters in the eyes of the GA from the beginning, thus ending up with another failed relationship, while Buck's relationship with Eddie thrives from one episode to another for the last 7 seasons. One has to wonder about that even if they don't ship buddie.

Same pattern here with T. I was prepared to like him with Buck, I was prepared to see Buck making his way out of the closet with someone who would make him feel safe to do it, not kiss him unprepared under the pretense of coming originally on Eddie's behalf. Not that crap show that was that restaurant date. Not Buck apologizing after feeling insecure and exposed in public for the first time out of the closet and so many other things. - I'm getting the same vibes as Taylor looking through her phone in disinterest in 4x11 as Buck recites some google fact.

And you're right, the fans going from 0-200 after one kiss was just ridiculous, like chill people have you never seen two men kiss before?

I have, on screen and in RL, I grew up with lovely lgbtq+ friends from childhood, it's not all that. When my gay best friend dated someone who didn't treat him right, I told him to get rid of him. When my cousin's gf treated her like property and like she owes her something I urged her to find a better more nurturing person to be happy with.

Two men kissing is not endgame making, hell, from experience two men having sex (hot as it is) is not endgame making.

Love, passion, trust, security, fun, friends gatherings where they're cute and gross, can be made into a healthy endgame making relationship.

Buck and Tommy have physical attraction, they make for a steamy picture but nothing else.

And Lou, I am just... I don't know, I would have preferred not to find out the things he's done as cast of 911, I am just so disappointed.

I loved Lou, now it's just meh. Like he's trying to make as much money as he can before he finishes his way in the show is all kinds of wrong. Also very misleading to the ppl who are hanging on his every word. (And I don't think Oliver likes it either, he is pointedly ignoring any scene with T, not promoting anything that doesn't involve Eddie and Christopher or Buck's own development).

Even Ryan didn't know he was going to get shot until he got the 4x13 script, he was sure he was being killed off until he talked to whoever was showrunner at the time lol.

So Lou can't know he just talks out of his ass and make himself look bad in the process.

And I agree, ppl should be free to ship whoever they desire, but they are not entitled to force their desires upon others, I'm talking about both sides of the ships not just one. (Although I gotta say I've never got hate asks until a certain ship popped up this season. A lot of hateful - now blocked anons - that I refused to give stage to.)

These toxic battles are useless and made this season worse than it's writing.

All that's left is kick back and hope this season's last episode can salvage the poor and repetitive storylines we got this season, - I mean even Henren and Bathena got a replay of S4.

And don't even get me started of the fart shaped storyline Eddie got after switching last minute.

I'm tired lol

didn't mean for this to become this long monster, If you made it this far thank you, sending LOTS of love. ❤️

#911 ask #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #anti bummies - seriously ppl get a life #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #ryan guzman #oliver stark #not tagging the third wheel #911 spoilers #911 speculation #fandom toxicity #fandom hypocrisy #deluweil replies #thank you anon for the ask❤️#btw as per usual don't come at me in my inbox and don't repost to counteract make your own post

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fvckwluv · 1 day

Text

I'll Pick You Up at 8

Spencer Agnew x gender neutral reader

accidental first date fluff one shot

word count: 4.6k

A/N: I haven't written fiction in such a long time, so bare with me.

potential content warning: make-out session depicted, joking/talking about the implication of s3x (s3x NOT depicted)

Just like after every SwordAF recording session, you're still so amped up from the game, you insist the group goes out to your favorite restaurant for dinner. A small authentic Italian pizza joint, Ardovino's. And just like every time, your exhausted friends decline.

Well, everyone except Spencer.

"C'mon guys..." Your whine draws on as you pout with your whole body, like a disappointed child. "It'll be fun I promise. And the food is to die for."

Your friends' rejection wasn't new, far from it. It had actually begun to become a running joke. You always get the post-performance adrenaline rush after SwordAF. While the rest of the crew would rather wind down, you insist on a big group dinner.

"Y/N." Chanse spoke. "Leave It." The group, including you, chuckled. "The very last shoot of one of our busiest shoot weeks isn't the time for a pizza party."

"He's right, babe." Amanda chimed in. "It's time to sleep."

You throw your arms down to your sides in defeat and give Shayne a pleading look.

"Sorry." Shayne shrugs. "Me and Court are bathing the cats tonight."

"You guys are lame!" You exclaim. "You have your whole lives to sleep and bathe cats! You have only one night to rally at Ardovino's!"

"Ardovino's isn't going anywhere." Shayne retorts. "Look, we all promise, we'll do it another time."

"But I'm not gonna be here for the next week and a half!" You playfully whine. "It could go bankrupt and shut down by then!"

Spencer closely watches you from behind the cameras with a subtle smirk. The scene of you insisting they all go out never gets old to him. You get so passionate. Your eyes grow wider than they already are. You pitch dinner like it's life or death. A trait of yours Spencer has always adored.

Spencer makes his way over from behind the cameras to start putting up the mic equipment. "Y/N," He shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he wraps up various cords. "I don't think that place is in danger of shutting down as long as your around."

You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I don't think there's been a single week that's gone by since I've known you, that you haven't eaten from there." Spencer says, eyebrows raised. And a smile he couldn't get rid of, even if he tried.

"What else am I supposed to do? I make up like half their business." You joked. "Since none of my 'so called friends' have ever even set foot in the joint."

Shayne, Chanse, and Amanda are all getting up from the table, getting ready to go home for the weekend. While you keep sitting there, looking up at Spencer, with that smile he thinks about when he's all alone.

Spencer had eyes for you since you first met. Something only a close observer, and of course, Kiana, would know. You weren't just obviously and immediately stunning- you were the funniest person Spencer has ever met. And in his eyes, that was the most attractive quality a person could have. You were also incredibly caring and warm, of course. You gave steadfast support and generosity to the people in your life. The things that came out of your mouth consistently took him by surprise- whether it was your unwavering wit, completely unique observations about the world, or the most thoughtfully crafted and kindest compliments. Spencer knows you as one of the strangest and greatest people in his life.

The one thing Spencer didn't notice about you- was your clear feelings for him.

It took you guys a while to become good friends. His crush on you made him shy. But you eventually wiggled your way into his shell. And he was more than happy to accommodate you. It had almost been a year since you really formed a genuine and intimate friendship with him outside of work. Playful teasing. Inside jokes. Carpooling. Cat sitting. Late night phone calls. Stories you've never told anyone else. Testing games for the channel at Spencer's place. Ordering in. Falling asleep together on his couch.

All while you adored everything about him. His laugh. His unfiltered jokes. His attentiveness. His green eyes. His tattoos. His arms.

The same arm he was currently nudging you on the shoulder with. "Okay, fine." He groaned. "You win. Let's go to Ardovino's."

Amanda and Chanse stop in their tracks and give each other a knowing look of excitement. They, of course, being the only ones to know about your feelings for Spencer.

"Really?!" You swelled. "Wait, are you being serious?!"

Spencer laughed.

"Wait, Spencer, really?! No way! Really?!"

His eyes could fall out of his head with the way he's looking at you.

"Spencer!" You tugged on his hand and started shaking it. "Are we really gonna go to Ardovino's?!? Finally?!?"

Spencer stays quiet as he grins and basks in your excitement. That smile. Those eyes. Your excited shrill. Your hands touching his.

"Spencer!!" You give him another shake.

It pulls him out of your eyes and back into the moment. "Yes, yes. Just let me get some actual clothes on. I'll pick you up at eight o'clock."

"Oh wait," With raised eyebrows, your tone and posture softens. "Now I feel bad. I don't want you to have to change."

"Well it's a nice place, right?" He shrugs. "Can't go in like this." He motions to his old champion hoodie.

"Wait, no, nevermind." You say. "It's okay, Spence. I don't wanna put you out like that. I know you're tired."

"Yeah, y/n, you're really putting me out." He mocks. "Going to dinner with a beautiful thing like you. How burdensome."

Beautiful?

You give him a quizzical look, but can't help the huge smile creeping on your face and the color rushing to your cheeks. Your suddenly extremely aware of your grip on his hand. It starts to feel very hot, almost burning.

"Relax." Spencer says, very softly, almost a whisper. "I wanna go with you. I'll be at your place at eight, okay?"

As he looks down at you with a smirk, there's something in his eyes that excites you. But also starts making the eye contact between the two of you intense.

You can barely utter out "Okay."

"Okay." He says with a smile, again in that soft tone. He gives your hand a squeeze before turning to leave.

Your eyes linger on the door as he exits the game stage. He left you with a smile you can't seem to shake.

Amanda and Chanse are gripping each others shoulders with their jaws on the floor as you slowly turn your body to face them.

Shayne is oblivious.

---

"Okay." You let out a breath as you give your outfit a onceover in the mirror.

"Now that's a first date fit." Chanse says eating popcorn from your couch.

"Chanse. I don't know how many times I have to say this- but this isn't a date. I basically begged him to take me to dinner."

"That's not what I saw. He couldn't wait to pick you up at eight." Chanse mimics Spencer in a provocative tone.

"Well it's just dinner, Chanse. Me and Spencer eat together all the time."

"Yeah, at the office or your guys' apartments. Not at a fancy, romantic pizzeria."

"It's not fancy or romantic."

"He called you beautiful."

You scoff. "I call you beautiful all the time. What? Is this a date? Are we dating now?"

"Yeah but he obviously likes you."

"You know you keep saying that, and then nothing happens. He's never made a move- or done literally anything to indicate he's into me."

"What are you talking about?! It's happened like a million times! You always just brush it off!"

"I don't brush him off!"

"Yes you do. You brush him off because you're too scared of rejection."

You roll your eyes. "Well, Chanse, normal people are plenty scared of rejection."

Chanse puts his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "Oh am I not normal?"

"No." You emphasize. "You're some superhuman freak. You can just walk up to anybody and start flirting."

"And you wanna know what the worst thing that happened was?"

You tilt your head at him and put your hands on your hips.

"They didn't reciprocate. And I just keep on living."

"Yeah, but if Spencer rejects me..." You trail off defeatedly. You search for the words, and suddenly the weight of all that you'd feel if Spencer were to reject you comes crashing down. "I couldn't just brush that off, Chanse. I like him. So much. It'd crush me."

"Well, I think living in this limbo of unknown feelings and 'what ifs?' for the rest of your life- would crush you even more."

Your phone buzzes with a text from Spencer.

On my way :)

"Shit, that's him." Your heart sinks. Suddenly this all becomes very real and the fact that you and Spencer are going to be having a candlelight dinner sends nerves throughout your entire body.

"You need to get out of here before he comes." You pull Chanse off the couch and take away the bowl of popcorn.

As you push him towards the door Chanse laughs. "If it's not a date, why can't I stay?"

You stop and he turns to face you.

"I mean it's just two friends getting together, right? Why don't I just tag along, too?" Chanse smirks.

You're ready to call his bluff.

"The more the merrier." You smile.

"Great."

Silence surrounds the staring contest between the two of you.

"It's not a date, Chanse."

"Then why'd you choose that underwear?"

You roll your eyes and start pushing him out the door again. "Goodbye."

Chanse manages a very rushed "Use protection!" before you slam the door on him.

---

In the car, on the way to your apartment, Spencer gets a call. It's Kiana.

He answers the phone from the bluetooth system on the steering wheel. "Hello?"

"Why did I just get a text from Chanse that you and y/n are going on a date?" Kiana questions.

"Date? I mean, we're going to dinner?"

"And you didn't tell me?! This is your chance Spence!"

Spencer rolls his eyes. Then an idea strikes him. "Wait, date? Is that the word Chanse used?"

"Well, no. He said you two are going to Ardovino's right now. Alone."

"Well yeah, Kiana, that's not a date."

"You can make it one."

Spencer furrows his eyebrows. "What does that even mean?"

"I mean, you want it to be a date, right? And I can bet you, she wants it to be a date, too."

"I don't think so."

"Spencer, y/n obviously likes you."

"Then why haven't they told me?"

"Why haven't you told them?!"

"You know why, Kiana. I can't risk that. If I put everything out there, and they don't feel the same way..." Spencer follows the trail of thought where he confesses his feelings. You rejecting him. You distancing yourself from him. No longer being friends. No longer being able to make you laugh. No more late night phone calls. No more you. You weren't something he was willing to lose. "It'd ruin everything."

"But if you go on like this, you'll lose y/n either way. They'll eventually meet someone who'll actually make a move."

For a while, there's a silence where only the cars on the road can be heard.

"There's always gonna be that what if in your head if you don't just go for it. And it'll be too late." Kiana says. "A nice dinner is the perfect place to tell her how you feel."

---

As Spencer shuffles up the steps to your apartment, Kiana's words couldn't get out of his head. What if you did meet someone else? The thought of anyone else being with you- hugging you, kissing you, making you laugh- stung.

He knocks on your door.

What if you did want this to be a date? What if this was his chance? What if he told you his feelings and you told him yours back? What if he kissed you and you kissed him back? What if-

All at once, Spencer's thoughts go quiet and his breath hitches. You open the door. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His eyes are more than happy to take you all in. He's too preoccupied staring at you to even greet you.

"Hi." You sheepishly say after a few seconds of silence.

Spencer looked so handsome. And the smell of his cologne was intoxicating.

"H- hey." He let out with a lot of air and a huge smile. You can see him looking over all of you. "You look..." He meets your eyes. "You're gorgeous."

You smile and feel the warmth rush to your cheeks, as well as to the pit of your stomach. "Thanks, Spence." You step closer to him and playfully tug on the collar of his white polo shirt. "You look very handsome." You giggle.

A playful moment, quickly turns into tension you could cut with a knife. Your faces now, just inches apart. Your hand still on his collar. Eye contact unbroken.

You look down at his lips for a split second when you suddenly hear a car horn down the street. It makes you guys jump back and laugh.

"Well..." You break the silence. "I thought we could walk there. It's only like ten minutes down the street. If that was okay with you?"

"Sounds perfect." Spencer smiles. He offers out his arm, doing his gentleman voice. "M'lady?"

You laugh. "M'lord." You link arms with his.

The walk there is filled with a very comfortable silence. It's not lost on you how nice being this close to him feels. You have a tight grip on his bicep.

Spencer is more than happy. Such a beautiful person like you, wrapped around his arm. He keeps almost running into things with how many times he's looking at you.

As you walk in to the restaurant, the older southern hostess, Lynn, you've seen many, many times greets you by name. "Hey, y/n! Welcome!"

Spencer laughs. "Come here that often, huh?"

You smile and roll your eyes at him.

"So who's the handsome fella?" Asks Lynn.

"Oh, this is Spencer." You say, gesturing your hand toward him.

"Well, Spencer, it's nice to meet you." Lynn smiles. "I hope you know you are one lucky man to be out on a date with this one!"

As you open your mouth to correct her, Spencer agrees. "Well, more like the luckiest man alive."

Lynn laughs. "Aw, well, ain't that cute? Right this way you two."

You give Spencer a bewildered look. But, of course, a huge smile on your face. Was Chanse actually right? Was this a date?

He doesn't look back at you. Instead he links your arm with his and leads you as he's walking.

His heart beating out of his chest. His nerves feel like fire. He was so nervous, but also, relishing this moment.

Lynn lets you know your waitress is on the way and walks away. Spencer pulls out your chair and helps you in. He sits down and starts looking at the menu.

You see a cool, calm, collected, nonchalant Spencer turning through the pages. Yet, what you don't know is, he's too scared to make eye contact with you.

You pick up your menu trying to follow his lead. But can't think straight. You haven't stopped smiling. A few moments go by and you keep putting down your menu to say something, but then go back to reading it.

Finally, with a huge smile, and raised eyebrows you say, "A date?"

Spencer freezes and looks up at you. "Hmm?"

"You're the luckiest man alive to be on a date with me?"

"Uh.." Spencer shifts in his seat. "You know.. uh- well... yeah."

Your heart flips.

"I mean, look at you." He gestures at you like it's obvious. "If this was a date, I'd be the luckiest man alive."

If?

Before you can say anything the waitress comes.

---

Dinner was great. It was just like any other time between the two of you. Great conversation. Lots of laughter. Untold stories. Except you were admiring his lips throughout your meal. And when you'd look away, so was he.

After an awkward fight for the bill, he wins.

He opens the door for you on the way out. You guys stand outside and just look at each other. No words are spoken, but you can feel a tension. Then you both instinctively laugh at the same time.

"Well..."

"Well.."

You didn't want this night to end. You look at the place across the street you go to often, and an idea strikes.

"Up for dessert?" You ask. "That place has the best churros in LA."

"Hell yeah." He extends his arm out to you again, and you take it. You guys find a break in between cars to jog across the street.

"¡Hola, hermosa!" Rita, the woman who owns the small churro stand, and at this point, a close personal friend, greets you. "Nice to see you!"

"Hi, Rita." You smile.

"Been here a lot, too, huh?" Spencer laughs.

"Shut up."

"This you boyfriend?" Rita asks.

You and Spencer both look at each other. Both of you secretly wishing you could answer 'yes' to that question.

"That's what everyone seems to think." You chuckle.

"Let me get a picture!" She says motioning to the cork board full of polaroids of couple who have eaten here.

"Oh, Rita, it's okay. We're ju-" Before you can finish your sentence she is out there with her camera.

"Okay, c'mon, c'mon, get close." She motion at the two of you.

You look at Spencer. "I'm so sorry, is this okay?"

"It's totally fine." He laughs.

He put his arm around your waist.

A chill rushes through you.

"One. Two. Three."

The camera clicks.

"Okay now kiss!"

You laugh awkwardly. "Oh, it's okay-"

"C'mon! Kiss!" Rita insists. "C'mon, such a good photo!"

Spencer and you look at each other with awkward smiles, not knowing what to do. You did want to kiss him, of course, but not like this. Not for the first time.

"I'll give you a peck on the cheek." Spencer whispers. "If that's okay with you."

You look up at him, flustered. "Oh, yeah, yeah. That's good."

He plants a kiss on your cheek. A sweet and intimate moment that makes both of your stomachs flutter. Rita snaps the photo.

"Beautiful!" Rita exclaims. "I'll bring out your usual now, okay?"

You and Spencer sit and wait on the curb in front of the stand. Rita brings one large churro and a huge cup of horchata to you guys and hands it to Spencer.

As you go through your stuff to pull out your cash, Spencer moves for his wallet. "Oh no, I got it, y/n."

"No, no, no!" Rita smiles. "On the house for the happy couple." She points at Spencer. "Just treat y/n right."

"Yes ma'am." Spencer chuckles.

"Oh! And here you go. One for you." Rita hands you the polaroid of Spencer kissing you on the cheek. "See? Such a good photo."

Rita walks away, and you and Spencer sit in a moment of silence looking at the picture.

"Wow." He breaks it. "You usually eat all this by yourself?" He laughs.

You hit his arm and giggle. "No! I come here with Chance... sometimes."

Spencer lets air escape his nose. He looks over to you with an endearing smile. Something in his tone shifted "And she never thinks Chanse is your boyfriend?"

"Well..." You blush and bring the photo closer to show him. "I guess you and I just have that undeniable chemistry." You joke.

"Yeah I mean, I get it." He says, placing the food down at his side, and grabbing the photo from you. "That's one handsome couple."

You both chuckle. As the sound fades and it's just the two of you in silence, you stare deep into each others eyes. Spencer notices a spark in yours that seems to be new.

It seems like every sign was telling you this was a date. Other people were literally telling you this was a date. Looking into his eyes, your heart swelled up to your throat. You cleared it, breaking the silence.

You leaned your body against Spencer to reach across him to get the churro that was on his other side. "Well..." You gesture for him to take a bite as you hold it. "Tell me what you think."

---

You threw your trash away and said bye to Rita.

"Onward?" Spencer, once again, offers his arm.

"Onward." You smile taking it.

Now, on the opposite side of the street, you pass your favorite café. It's pretty empty and there is a small jazz band out front you've seen play there plenty of times.

"Hey!" Mr. Reeves, the old pianist, stops playing when he sees you. The band follows with greetings as well.

"Hello, Mr. Reeves. Hello, everyone. How are you?"

"Well, I'm much better now after seeing you!" Mr. Reeves offers a friendly smile.

"Jesus, you really get out a lot, huh?" Spencer whispers in your ear and nudges your side. You look up at him and roll your eyes.

"Does your boyfriend here wanna dance?" Mr. Reeves asks.

"Jesus, you really get mistaken for my boyfriend a lot, huh?" You both laugh.

"Well, son? Are you gonna ask this pretty young thing to dance or not?" Mr. Reeves asks. The rest of the band joins in, egging Spencer on.

After a moment, of looking at each other. Spencer gives you a playful shrug. "Why not?" Spencer unlinks his arm from yours and offers his hand. "Will you do me the honors?"

You look at him in amazement. Your heart beating out of your chest. This was really happening. With a smile so wide, you take his hand.

The band starts playing your favorite old-timey love song you've told them so much about.

Spencer has a hand around each side of your waist, with a firm grasp. You have your hand wrapped around the back of his neck. You hadn't been this close to him for this long, ever. Without saying anything and only the occasional break in eye contact, you sway side to side on the pavement.

Once you both were able to push past the nerves, it was pure bliss. Spencer had the person of his dreams in his hands. He still hadn't gotten over how beautiful you looked tonight- tripping over his words during conversations you had throughout the night. He knew he couldn't push down his feelings any longer. Everyone thinking you were a couple, kissing you on the cheek, dancing with you- if all of this was a possibility for the two of you going forward, it was worth the risk of anything. He had to let you know how he felt. He was in love.

And you knew in that moment, you felt the same way.

As the song ended, the band started clapping for you both.

"Thanks for that." Spencer places some cash in a hat the band had in front of them. "Seriously thank you." He whispers to Mr. Reeves. Spencer would put his entire bank account in that hat to thank them for giving him that moment with you.

"So..." You giggle.

"So." Spencer repeats with a warm smile. This time, he offers his hand for you to hold. You happily take it. "Just no more detours, okay?" You both laugh.

As he guides you up the steps to your front porch you don't let go of his hand. And he doesn't let go of yours. You lean your back against the door, and give him a big smile.

You can't keep it in anymore.

"Well, Spencer. I think you just might be the luckiest man alive."

"Oh really? Why's that?" He grabs your other hand now too.

"Dinner, dancing, kissing... I think that was a date."

"Well, since that was a date..." A smile grew on his face. "That was the best date I've ever been on."

Your heart is pounding out of your chest. His too.

"Me too." You whisper.

You stare into each others eyes. And a brand new kind of silence embraces you both. You let go of his hand and pull on his collar again, bringing him a few inches from your lips. His hands go to your waist.

You stare at each other again. This time, obvious glances to each others lips. Your faces slowly gravitate towards each other.

Your foreheads touch.

Then your noses.

Then your lips.

A peck at first, but then quickly becoming deeper. Your hands are tightly tugging his collar to pull him even closer into you. His hands are even tighter around your waist to pull you closer to him.

You pull away with your eyes closed and with a big smile. You take in some fresh air and open your eyes. Your heart stops when you open them, and he's already looking at you, like he's hungry. He places his forehead on yours again.

"Holy shit, I can't believe this is happening." You giggle. He does too.

"Me neither." You both close your eyes again. "I've wanted to do that for such a long time."

"Me too." You whisper.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asks.

You answer by kissing him. Deeper and harder than before. Nothing but smiles each time his and your lips part. His hand travels up your body, to the side of your chin and neck. With the other still firmly against your waist. Both you and Spencer's breathing gets heavier. A mmm escapes your lips. Which sends an excited chill through Spencer's body.

You both pull away not being able to say anything for a bit. Your chests rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breathes.

"Spencer." You say between breaths.

"Y/n."

"I'm gonna ask you something, okay? But just let me finish before you answer. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm gonna ask if you want to come inside." You say with a shaky voice. "But... I think I should tell you... I have feelings for you. I have... deep, strong, feelings." Spencer doesn't break the intense stare he is giving you. You ramble on. "And if something were to happen in there, it would mean a lot more to me than just one night. I'd want something more than just that. I'd want you. Like, in a relationship, or whatever." You swallow the lump in your throat. Your pace quickens. "And if you don't feel the same way, that's totally okay. I'll be happy looking back on this night as a fun, spontaneous thing, you know? I'll be okay. And I'd wanna still be friends." Tears start to build in your eyes and you can feel your throat get heavier. "But I can't go any further if you don't feel the same way. Because if that happens... It's more than just a fun, spontaneous thing for me. It's... everything. So when I ask you to come inside, you can only say yes if you feel the same. Okay?"

You let out a big sigh. "Do you wanna come in?"

"Y/n, I...." Spencer closely studies your face. He gently wipes a tear that had fallen down your cheek. He takes your hand and places it over his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly.

"I love you." He says. "I wanna be with you... even if nothing else happens. I just want you. I always have. There's nothing I want more than just you. I love you."

"I love you too."

You smile and let out a breath of relief. Your lips and bodies embrace each other once again. You open the door, and he follows you inside.

#smoshblr #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew imagine #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction

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sparklecarehospital · 1 day

Note

I know you’re not working on any askblog things but will the sparklecare askblog ever return?

i've thought about this a lot, semi-recently. sorry for long post, i had a lot to say

see, the issue with asksparklecare is the fact it's supposed to "go along with canon events" and a lot of the time, the arcs will just abruptly end or change with no real connection between them. haunted was sort of my first attempt at putting a "story" on there, then again with the kissmas comic from 2021.

when i started cometcare for example, i wanted to take the generic "ask blog" format and turn it into a coherent, cohesive connecting story that just had interactive elements to make it engaging with readers as opposed to just making people ask the characters questions aimlessly. the main ask blog never really had that entirely, it was just sort of the classic 2010s-style ask blog, this is apparent in basically every arc on there.

it's stumped me quite a bit because now that i have this very different style of ask blog storytelling, the original ask blog feels weird to go back to and i don't feel the same passion or connection with it that i once did. it's a little bit frustrating. i tried to do an arc about the side patients but as you guys saw, i never even did it because i felt so out of touch with that old format of ask blog posts and i couldn't bring myself to work on it at all.

cometcare and darkermatters both have Stories to them, and each arc has a plot that is moved on by readers- even if i already have it written out, there are little things people can influence through the asks and it's a good way for introducing new characters or expanding on characters who we've already met. several times cometcare will return to specific characters to relay information or new details or exposition or something that their initial introduction didn't have.

it's a much more fun process for me to write actual stories in my AU blogs, instead of just....making the characters talk. and another thing- going alongside the main comic has problems, because sometimes there's information i can only reveal in the comic itself, and it's hard to keep up with it in general.

i enjoyed doing the kissmas comic because i got to do a "story" even if it wasn't interactive. i had fun repeating the concept on cometcare last december with help of the crew.

i'm sort of at a loss of what to do with the main ask blog at this point. as much as i miss doing stuff like that for main comic, i just don't find it FUN to do it that way anymore, i've become too attached to the storytelling aspects of my other ask blogs and it just doesn't feel the same exciting experience of watching people react to events and such.

if anyone has suggestions about what i should do with the main ask blog to solve this problem i'm open to hearing them, it would be nice to have some ideas because i'm really not sure what i want to do with it.

there was a time i had the idea of doing a backstory ask blog as an alternate main canon interactive story that followed similar mechanics as cometcare and darkermatters, but idk if everyone would be interested in that. that would probably be a separate thing if i ever did it.

thoughts, opinions, suggestions and ideas are all welcome in the replies or my inbox, i would love to have your guys' input since im making content you all would be engaging with after all

#answers #long post

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barbarianbookhoe · 2 days

Text

I swear I'm never gonna find the love I know I right-fucking-fully deserve

I just rewatched Bridgerton season 3 for the 3rd time already, and MY GOD, if a man does not yearn for me like a Bridgerton man😩

Request: Kaz Brekker x drunk (fem) reader (this is a long fcking one)

Too Sweet

TW: fluff, mention of assault

"And then, THEN he said I am just as useful as a rock. A damn rock!," she scoffed as she swayed in her seat. "Rocks can bee useful," she mumbled, "you can throw 'em at people. Like me! I can be thron at people," she hiccuped once before pointing at her glass for the bartender to re-fill.

The guy just shook his head at her and told her to stop shouting at costumers, or find someplace else. Apparently, she's been a lot friendlier than she thought.

She dropped some kruge on the counter, not having enough common sense left to count if it was even enough.

"But his eeeyes while he looked at me, oh Saints, his eyes are so beautifuuul, and sooo blue, they make me swoooon," Y/N told a waitress, who just laughed at the lovesick girl, who's been talking about a boy for the past 10 minutes.

"Oh honey, you have such a soft spot for that boy!" She laughed, and Y/N just nodded. "Yeah, and-and you should see his cheeks and ears, that when he gets flustred, no, flusterred, uh, flus-tered, yes, they turn red but he hides it, and no one sees, but I see it, because he has such a preeeetty face," she tells her on a high pitched voice, and even rests her head on her arms and lets out a sigh.

Y/N talking about her love life being the only thing actually happening in the small bar, the waitress sats down in front of her after getting out a round of drinks. The two women began their discussion about the boy, and the way Y/N cannot stop smiling while talking about him makes the waitress smile herself.

The sound of a cane tapping on the floor makes the lady turn around, only to find the Bastard of the Barrel himself staring right at her. No, not at her, but the girl on the other side of the table. She gets up and with a quick goodbye slips out of her seat, to make her way to the other side of the place.

Kaz Brekker, as if he had all the time in the world, slowly walked over to his Crow, who was supposed to be in the Club with their group hours ago.

He'd only been trailing her for an hour or two, but in that time she already went through 3 bars. Not counting the one, or ones, where he wasn't present. And without paying. Kaz made sure she wouldn't be in debt by the next morning. As he looked at her drunken state, he began questioning his own plan to get her home as soon as possible.

"Jeeesss!" Y/N looked up at him giddily, practically dragging her words out. "Come 'ere you silly," she signaled for him to sit down, to which Kaz just rolled his eyes. She must've drank quite a lot if she thought him to be the sharpshooter. "Why you in black?" She shook her head as if getting rid of her question and looked at him giddily yet again.

Kaz couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that slowly made its way into his well-guarded heart. The feeling that she looked the happiest in that moment, drowned in alcohol, probably on the edge of alcohol poisoning, and staring at him with such joy Kaz rarely saw anymore on her, even less in his life. It was clear to him that she was going through something, he just didn't know what it was.

If he had any talent for it he would've drawn her right in that moment, to capture her smile, the shine of her eyes, to keep her this happy at least on paper, to keep her smiling.

"Alright, get up. You're going home," Kaz sternly told her to which she just scoffed. "Ah, but Jesper we have so much to talk aboouuuut," she whined as he took a step closer. "This wasn't a question. You. Are. Going. Home."

"Alrigh', alrigh'," Y/N mumbled to herself as she tried to steady herself enough before attempting to walk on her own. After a few seconds of failing to do so, she quickly straightened her back and began her uncoordinated, swaying march for the door. Kaz was just two steps behind her, and when they got out on the street, he took half a step closer as he stepped next to her.

"Am I late for that meeting? Nahh," She mumbled loud enough for Kaz to hear. "It don' matter. What do I do?" She turned her head to Kaz for a split second before loudly continuing. "I'm talking Jespeeerr!" Kaz quickly shushed her, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them.

"Don't ssssshhh me, Kaz sssssh-ushes me, not you!" She said and had it not been for Kaz, she would've tripped in her own foot. "I feel like he doesn't like me anymore," she said then, but Kaz just kept quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I want to tell him to shut up for once, to give 'im my opinion," she began gesturing before herself, as if she wasn't even talking to him anymore, more to herself.

"I feel like... punching him, givin' 'im a piece of mind. Yah, let'ss do that!" She quickly turned around, probably to find Kaz who was standing next to her, but Kaz caught her elbow and stood her in front of him. "You won't do that, alright? You're going home to sleep, and if you still feel like it, you'll give him a punch tomorrow."

"But whyyy? He's always up at night, and that'ss when we taaalk. I can't tell 'im during the dayy!" Her words began to slur again and she was swaying, so Kaz took it as a sign, that she was still in fact really drunk. He didn't let go of her elbow as he guided themselves towards her little flat near Fifth Harbor. It was more like one big room rather than a flat, but she didn't spend that much time there to care about it.

"And why can't you? Is there an unkown force keeping you from it?" He told her while he fought the nausea slowly coming up his throat. They'll be there in a few minutes, he reminded himself. "Jess, why are you the one asking? You're always telling me to lissen to my heart, to not overthink, to just say it. You're not Jesper, that's why!" She said more to herself than Kaz.

"Say what?" Kaz turned to Y/N for a few seconds, trying to see her face to determine what she was feeling. He found himself as curious when he was just a small boy, watching the magicians on the streets of Ketterdam. He watched every little detail of her face, from the flatter of her eyelashes to the unnoticeable tremble of her lips, trying to guess what she was going to say.

"Again with the questionss," she mumbled and right after spoke up on a sad tone, her vice slightly trembling, almost as if she was holding back from crying. "You sound like my landlord. Saints, I hate 'im. He's always angry a-and yelling, and soooo tall, taller than Matthias," she said and Kaz noticed the barely noticeable crack in her voice, making him worry about what more she had to say.

"I mean, I fought 'im twice yesterday, you know, 'cause he was demanding the rent I already payed, givin' me a great punch to my ribs, but like, you know, I'm a fighter, I can take 'im any day, but I mean, he's sooo tall and, and I was tired, so you know I didn't have too much "fight" in me." Y/N rambled, probably unaware of admitting that she was assaulted and making it seem less serious than it was, but still, it made Kaz's vision fog up with red.

How did he not know? How could he let this happen under his watch? Why didn't he felt the need to investigate her place, like he first intended to?

She was still rambling about her landlord and their multiple fights, yes, multiple Kaz realized, getting angrier by the second, when she stumbled and Kaz had to yank her up before she fell on the hard ground.

Without a second thought, or any thought at all, Kaz put her arm around his shoulder and carefully slipped his other arm around her waist to keep her somewhat standing. They were just a block away from her place, but Y/N seemed to cling to Kaz, her legs barely functioning at this point, and Kaz had to lean themselves against an old brick building before they both collapsed.

He also had to take a breather from all the touching, not being used to touching her for this long. Yes, they've stitched up each other countless times, sometimes even caring enough to change each other's bandages. But that never lasted longer than half a minute, or one, which was the limit for Kaz.

As soon as he calmed down, he felt warm fingers touching his face.

He froze in his spot and he had to close his eyes and concentrate on his breathing if he didn't want to start panicking. A minute passed by, and the hands still didn't leave his face, but they began to explore his every feature. It started at his cheeks then to his jaw, his forehead, the hand smoothed over his eyes so carefully as if he was made from glass, then the fingers stopped at his lips. He didn't even know he was forcefully keeping them in a thin line until the warm touch made them slightly part.

When Kaz opened his eyes he felt his heart stop and melt all at once, he felt it cease to beat only to then began pumping his blood with so much force he felt as if his heart was trying to fire up his veins.

Y/N was looking at him with a longing gaze, as if this was her last, yet the first time seeing him. As if he was something worth looking at.

She kept looking at him even though Kaz swore his heart was about to burst into a mess of blood and flames. Her fingers lingered on his lips as her other hand came up to softly caress the side of his face, touching a strand of hair. As if she wasn't able to stop touching him. Kaz felt his lips part even more than before, and his breath got stuck in his throat at her touch. He kept his eyes on her as he felt the need to close them for just one second. He felt his heart throb too fast for his liking, feeling his head getting dizzier by the second.

He was sure he was about to faint.

When her thumb caressed his lips for one second, just one second, she moved both of her hands to the side of his face ever so gently, and Kaz felt his knees tremble under her gaze. They never once broke the eye contact, which made the moment feel even more intimate. The way she was looking at Kaz, the way her eyes reflected the dim light next to them on the street made her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and Kaz felt himself quietly gasp for air.

Kaz Brekker gasped for air, mesmerized by the sight of her.

He was trying to figure out the emotion behind the look she was giving him all night, when she mentioned him or his name, when she realized he wasn't Jesper, when she took his face in her hands, as she caressed him with such tenderness, as if one wrong touch could shatter him like the finest porcelain.

But when she moved her thumb back to his lips again, slightly caressing it without even noticing, Kaz finally dared to speak up.

"What are you-," He couldn't finish the words he was whispering, because Y/N put his handkerchief between their faces, holding it onto Kaz's lips, as if she was about to...was she? Was she about to...kiss him? Kaz felt like fainting again.

When she spoke up, the drunk look was somewhat gone from her eyes, and bittersweetness took over. "My imagination is wicked, but this might be the cruelest thing it ever did to me, making me see you as if you were real, as if you were here." She whispered it so gently that Kaz had to take a second to grasp what she was saying. "I'm here Y/N, I've been here all night." He said, but she just sadly shook her head.

"You're another hallucination, dream-Kaz, because I can never kiss you in the real world. And even in my dreams, I can't do it without respecting you first," she whispered, smoothing the handkerchief over his lips.

Kaz couldn't pin-point when did his heart pumping began too loud for him to hear, or when did he forget to breathe, but what he knew exactly, was the fact that these all made his thoughts cease to exist. Except one.

"You...dream about me? Above all people you could have choosen, you chose me to dream about?" He asked breathlessly, not believing how small his own voice sounded. Still, tears began welling up in Y/N's eyes, which she tried to keep at bay, but a single drop escaped and she let it stream down her face as she spoke up.

"You're... everywhere, all the time, and I can't escape you from my imagination, sometimes even preferring to hallucinate because that's where I know I'll find you, where I'm brave enough to-to say 'I love you' to your face, without having to deal with your rejection, because I-" As she glanced away from him trying to blink away her tears, Kaz gently took the handkerchief away from his lips and instead held her hand which put the handkerchief on him.

Kaz finally realized how she looked at him. If their racing hearts, her shallow breath, the tremble of her voice wasn't enough clue, than her touch certainly was. Throughout her speech her hands were still on his face, unmoving, not daring to move, instead keeping them there in a tender touch. She was in-

"I'm irrevocably, unconditionally, and fatally in love with you Kaz Brekker."

Sharp breaths and worried looks.

Unnoticeable steps and reassuring nods.

A trembling exhale.

One quick step, and Kaz was kissing her.

Their lips colliding against one another like the sun sets on the dark sea, like the moon takes the sun's place, like fireworks lighting up the sky. Her lips a mix of cheap alcohol and something sweet, his the scent of coffee and something salty. Her shyness, afraid of hurting him, clashing with his yearning movements, all of a sudden forgetting everything that wasn't her. His hand found its way onto the back of her neck, while the other gently touched the side of her face, just as she did mere seconds ago.

Kaz couldn't begin to think about his aversion, nor his nausea, because he was surrounded by her. Her scent, her lips, her hands on his face, her gasp in the kiss. He kissed her as if she was the air he was breathing, and he had been drowning, therefore he took the breath that belonged to him. Kaz never kissed anyone before, nor did he imagine himself doing so, but he did it with a strange hunger, as if he was a starving animal in captivity.

In a way both of them were animals, walking the cruel roads of the city, taking down anyone that crossed their paths in the need of survival. In a way, Kaz was no better than a starving animal, looking for crumbs to feed his hunger, finding any way for revenge to ease his anger. And in a way, Y/N was the first healthy taste that could keep Kaz from starving again.

She was addicting. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than 5 seconds, but Kaz already felt himself in need of another. He only tasted her once but he wanted more. So much more.

His knees didn't stop weakening, and he still couldn't quite catch his breath, and maybe it was from the lack of air in his lungs, or his heart beating too loudly in his ears to hear anything, but despite his past with touch, despite his head trying to tell him to stop, almost as soon as they broke apart Kaz captivated her once again.

This kiss was more tender than the first. Kaz still kissed her with wild hunger, but now he took his time getting familiar with her lips. Although, Y/N didn't let herself fall under his spell this time, she daringly smoothed her fingers through his raven hair, stopping at the nape of his neck and gently caressing some strands. She stood still, letting Kaz do what he wanted with his hands on her.

It all felt like a dream, a dream that she was bound to keep like a memory, not just another one of her hallucinations. She knew this wasn't real, it couldn't have been, because she knew her Kaz could never touch her like this. Not in this lifetime. So she let herself get lost in this dream more than she should've let herself to, because she knew her drunkenness would be a reasonable excuse.

Therefore she couldn't bring herself to step away from him. She wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him, desperately, and if this was the only way she would do so, in her drunk imagination, then she would have to settle for it. She had to accept that this lifetime wasn't meant for them.

Kaz knew his anger. It was hot and messy, uncalculated, selfish and greedy, which brought out the monster in him. It made him destroy everything in his path, without a single care about who's coming down with him. Kaz knew his anger.

Except this time. As he stepped inside Y/N's flat, looking at the broken chair in the corner, the different marks on the walls, and the small droplets of dried blood at the entrance, he felt a deep rage take over him, and out of instinct he tightened his arm around Y/N just a bit more.

He imagined every scenario as Y/N talked about the fights, from the bad to the worst, but seeing the remnaints of those fights in the organized and neat place felt almost ridiculous to him.

Y/N didn't bother with covering about the damage. She kept her place clean and comfortable as always, and now her place looked like as if the two sides of her life clashed against one another.

Kaz walked over to the bed with her and sat her down, before he grabbed a glass and poured her some water. He signaled for her to drink it and she agreed, probably unaware of what she was drinking. Meanwhile Kaz looked around and lit up a few candles around the room. Then Y/N moved to take off her boots, failing to do so. After multiple attempts and swearing under her breath, Kaz spoke up.

"Stop that and lie down. I'll help," he told her and set his cane down on the bed next to her. She began giggling as he knelt down on one knee to take her boots off. "If you wanted to get me into bed, you could've just asked," she chuckled and Kaz felt his face heat up. He was grateful that she couldn't see his face right now.

"And what would be the fun in that?" Kaz asked and Y/N could hear the cockyness in his voice. "The easiness. I would let you without thinking, you know." Kaz sat her boots next to her bedside table and looked up at her as she slowly sat up.

"You're not an easy woman Y/N, therefore I wouldn't want easy with you." Kaz told her and watched her smile faltered and her eyes got bigger, like when she was concentrating on something. He took it as a sign to continue.

But before he did, he took a moment to really look at her like this. Face red from drinking, eyes shining in the candelight, her gaze full of emotion, hair messy from touching it too much, a few strands sticking to the side of her face, probably from sweat. Kaz moved to tuck those strands of hair behind her ear, and Y/N watched his tender movements with a sleepy smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Kaz, still on his knees, told her to go to sleep and she happily obliged. She fell back on the bed, quickly moving around for a comfortable position then closed her eyes and fell asleep in just a few minutes.

"I'll be right here," Kaz whispered as he got up from his kneeling position, and got to work.

Y/N woke up to the sound of keys jingling. Against her tired muscles she quickly sat up and grabbed her knife from under her pillow. When her front door opened she threw the knife without hesitation.

Knowing that she probably didn't aim right she grabbed another knife from her bedside table and rushed to the intruder. She grabbed the back of their coat and held the knife to their throat, or she would've, if the person didn't block them with their cane. With the beak of the crow.

"This is how you greet your friends?" Kaz asked mockingly to which Y/N just rolled her eyes and took her knife away from Kaz's face. "Why are you here?" She asked back.

"Good morning, yes I'm quite fine, how are you?" He said and the small grin on his face made Y/N want to kick his cane from under him. "Been better. Could do without the slight headache though, but I'm sure it comes and goes with you," Y/N told him and turned her back to get the knife back in its place.

"You were much better company last night." She turned around abruptly. "What did I do?" Kaz didn't answer at first, which made her worried she did something stupid again. "Kaz, what the hell did I do last night?"

"For starters, you hit up probably half a dozen bars to drown yourself in whatever was cheapest. Then you poured your heart out, probably would've fallen into the canal if it wasn't for me," He said the last words with a mix of mocking and smugness. "Better question: what did you do?"

"A thank you would suffice for saving your ass," He told her and she just scoffed. "Thank you, for being a-" Y/N started but as she hopped down on her bed she felt her ribs ache and she had to breathe loudly to ease the pain. Kaz was in front of her in seconds and had an almost worried look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just-nothing. Probably slept in a bad position," she winced as she put a hand on her left side, but she didn't miss the fact that Kaz reached his hand out. It was only a second, or half a second before he took it back, but she saw it.

Imaged of him touching her flashes through her, his hands in her hair, on her face and neck. She could still feel the touch on her lips, and for a second she just stared back at him in surprise. Was it...was it real? Kaz looked at her questioningly, not knowing what just went through her mind.

Then Kaz sat his cane on her bedside table before he got rid of his coat and put it next to her on the bed. Another image came up: the same position, but he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N shook her head a little, trying to get rid of the images.

"Kaz, what are you do-AH," Y/N shouted as Kaz lifted up her shirt and put his hand on her ribs. He kept poking her left side all the while she was cursing him into oblivion. When Kaz finally stopped and reached for the hem of her shirt she grabbed her clothing and clutched it.

"Hey! No more of this! What do you think you're doing?"

"Measuring up your bruises. I need to know how many punches you took," Kaz told her as a matter-of-factly, and Y/N stared back in confusion. "From who?!"

"Your landlord. Mr. Kozar."

Silence fell over the room. Kaz could see the confusion turn into embarassment, then into fear. Y/N was still clutching her shirt, but this time with a tight grip to ground herself in reality.

"How do you-" She started, but then stopped as she looked up at him. "I told you last night, didn't I?"

"Yes, everything," Kaz had to slightly bite down on his lip, so as not to tell her what did he plan for her landlord tonight. The sight of her, slowly curling in on herself, looking as if she wanted to disappear, when Kaz knew better than anyone that she always made her presence known everywhere she went.

Kaz gently touched the hem of her shirt, next to the piece of fabric she was currently holding in an iron grip, when she looked at him again, this time with uncertainity. Kaz just waited.

"If you want to take off my clothes, at least ask my permission first. Be a gentleman," Y/N told him quietly and loosened her grip on her shirt. Kaz scoffed quietly as he kneeled down in front of her. "I'm anything but gentle," he said, his touch on her shirt never tightening.

"Can I?" Kaz asked on a voice so soft it could've melted gold. Y/N never heard him talk that way, therefore she had to take a moment to grasp her head around how sweet his voice sounded. "Can I take off your shirt?" Kaz asked her again, his soft, sweet voice not faltering. Y/N gently nodded. "Yes."

The minutes while Kaz looked at her bruises, sometimes poking them again, she felt like crying the entire time. Not from the pain, that she was used to living in the Barrel for this long, but from how tender his touches were. He may believe he's not a gentleman, but Y/N knew the truth. She knew the heart behind the iron bars.

After Kaz finished, he handed her shirt back and even helped when she had to stretch out her side. He told her one of her ribs might be fractured, but it shouldn't cause her any trouble tonight.

"Is there a job tonight? Wait, was the meeting I missed last night about this?" Y/N asked Kaz quickly after she reached for her boots to put them on. She was stopped by Kaz's cane snatching them away. "This isn't a job, only if you want to look at it that way," he said carefully and it made Y/N suspicious.

"What did you do?"

"I? I did nothing. Your landlord, on the other hand, did more than what's understandable, even more so, hurting someone close to me, which I believe you don't tolerate either, therefore I set up a meeting with him," Kaz said and rested his hands on the top of his cane, looking at everywhere except her eyes. Y/N didn't miss the way he described their relationship. Someone close to me. Was she still dreaming? Or was this real life? Before she could ask him about that little detail, another thought formed in her mind.

"What meeting?" She asked but the way Kaz glanced at her for just a few seconds before putting his coat on to go on his way, told her more than his words could've. "Oh, a meeting, as in, torture,"

"Only if you want it to get to that point," Kaz said and Y/N was up on her feet right in front of him, and her subconscious got giddy at the fact that he didn't move away from her. "Why Kaz? You didn't have to bother with any of-"

"I did." He said suddenly, and his tone made Y/N go silent. "I do, because I wasn't careful enough to investigate this place like I did with the one before, because I trusted you enough to handle things, because I knew ypu would fight your way out of it. Then you told me you were assaulted, multiple times, multiple fucking times Y/N andyou never once told any of us. You never onced mentioned it, not to anyone, not to me." Kaz told her getting angry at himself for not making sure you were alright, because he was too absorved in his own thoughts, in his feelings for you, trying to punish himself for feeling the way he did. Meanwhile it got to a point where he forgot to protect you. He forgot. He never forgot to look after you. "You didn't ask my help."

"You had enough on your plate now that Pekka's out of the picture. You had business to run, I couldn't have just walk through your door saying my landlord is a greedy asshole who's attacking me at any inconvenience. You wouldn't have cared."

"I would!" Kaz said louder and Y/N looked at him in shock. She was about to speak when Kaz interrupted her. "I do. I do care. I care about your well-being enough, that I wouldn't care at which time of day or night you came for my help." He practically whispered the last few words and he could almost feel her lips against his, the memory suddenly blinding him. "Never be too stubborn to ask for my help. Just come to me."

Y/N could hardly breathe in that moment. All of the flashes from her dream, they weren't dreams at all. She really touched his face, and Kaz really kissed her. Now she remembered how his lips moved against hers as if he had been hungry all his life. And as Kaz looked at her with his pale blue eyes, she was reminded of the fact that he initiated the second kiss. Y/N wanted to know how he kissed, now that she was sober. If it felt addicting while she was drunk, she couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like now that she's sober.

"I need your help Kaz," she whispered and Kaz's face turned serious at the mention of his name. "I'm afraid I don't remember much from last night." Y/N whispered as she slowly held her hand up next to his face, not wanting to be too quich with her movements, but Kaz gently grabbed her hand and put on the side of his face.

"And now?" Kaz asked raspily. Y/N felt like fainting, as she took a quick inhale. "Not familiar," she said and Kaz moved her other hand to the nape of his neck while he put a hand under her jaw, on her neck. "How about this?" He asked, the words a whisper against her lips. "Still not remembering," she moved her head just a little closer to him and heard Kaz quietly gasp for air, to which she let out a small smile.

"This, you remember," Kaz didn't waste time hugging her even closer to him, so he could finally kiss her again. Saints know he's been itching to do so.

Y/N let out a small gasp in the kiss and Kaz poured all of his years of yearning into their kiss.

Since that night the Barrel had something worse to fear from Dirtyhands: his love and devotion.

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker x reader #grishaverse fic

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queenshelby · 9 hours

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 43)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap,

Over the next few weeks, Cillian seemed to be in a better mood, and, if anything, he was even more affectionate than he had ever been before. He showered you with compliments and affection, making you feel loved and cherished. And yet, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was off. He was acting weird lately and you were not entirely sure why.

"I am just over this Award stuff already, you know. I am sorry," Cillian muttered after you had asked him once again one night he was visiting you and, since you knew how much he hated all this publicity and travelling around, you didn't push the topic any further.

"I know you do, but you only have five or so more ceremonies to go," you teased him, trying to put a smile on his face.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until they are over," he replied with a huff. "Fuck, I am getting too old for this shit."

You laughed, but you could sense the weariness in his voice. You knew that acting was his passion, but sometimes, it seemed as if the constant travelling and promotions were taking a toll on him. You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you looked up at him.

"You aren't that old though, Cills," you reminded him with a soft smile, your finger tracing the lines that formed between his eyebrows. "Now tell me, how did the suit fitting go today?" you asked, changing the topic as you looked up at him, waiting for another huff of annoyance to escape his mouth. But instead, he smiled, a proper wide smile that was so bright and genuine that you couldn't help but follow suit.

"It went well, actually," Cillian said, his tone light as he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead. "It's black," he then told you. "I mean they are all black, which is another thing I do not understand," he chuckled. "Why do I need a different suit for every fucking event?" Cillian groused, shaking his head slightly.

"Because you are nominated for an award at each of those events and I suppose it's important for your image?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as if challenging him. Cillian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"I suppose, but it's so fucking wasteful," Cillian told you before pulling you even closer, knowing that, for the next few weeks, he would be away even more often than he already had been since Christmas which, due to Mara having been sick, you had spent together on your own. "I know, but hey, you are a successful actor and everyone expects you to dress the part," you reminded him gently, even though you secretly agreed with him. You didn't like the way that the entertainment industry placed so much emphasis on appearances.

Cillian sighed but nodded, understanding that you were right. "I guess," he murmured, his arms tightening around you before he changed the topic. "I wish you and Mara could come with me to LA tomorrow," he told you softly, as he ran a hand up and down your spine.

You sighed, wishing more than anything that could be possible, but knowing it wasn't. "I know and, if Mara wasn't so little still, I probably would. It's just too hard to travel back and forth with a baby," you told Cillian before reminding him that you would be joining him for the Academy Awards next month, for which Cillian had arranged his mother to travel with you so that she could look after Mara while you attended the awards ceremony with Cillian.

He smiled at you in relief and you couldn't help but notice how much that small gesture made your heart flutter.

The Oscars were an event that you had agreed to attend with him after him begging you to and you were extremely nervous about it. You had never been to such a big event before, and you were worried about not fitting in.

Being a famous actor's much younger girlfriend, you were acutely aware of the scrutiny that would be cast upon you at this glamorous event. And as you looked at yourself in the mirror every day, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. You looked nothing like the glamorous actresses that would be attending the awards ceremony with their equally glamorous partners. You were a young, shy, innocent woman who had just become a mother, and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

But Cillian had been nothing but supportive and encouraging, reminding you every day how beautiful and amazing you were. He had even arranged for his own stylist to dress you for the awards ceremony, insisting that you would look stunning in whatever she picked out for you.

You smiled at the memory, your heart fluttering as you looked up at Cillian. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

Cillian sighed, his eyes meeting yours before he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I wish I didn’t have to go either,” he murmured, his arms tightening around you. "I much rather be here with you and Mara," he added in between kisses that stole your breath away.

"I know and I love you for that," you murmured, your fingers tracing sharp lines of tension along his sculpted jawline. "I love you so much."

He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of your breath against his lips, the weight of your body against his, and the sound of your voice saying those three words that meant the world to him. He pulled back slightly, holding your gaze for just a moment longer before his lips sought yours again, deepening the kiss.

His hands roamed over your body like a moth to a flame, finding the soft curves of your hips, the firm reason that brought sharp gasps to your lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair, the strands soft and smooth between them.

"I want you, Cillian," you whispered, breaking the kiss to let your lips glide along his cheek, tasting the salt of his skin. His chest rumbled beneath your touch and your nipples hardened with the pounding rhythm of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you trailed your fingers down his torso.

"How could I possibly say no to you?" he asked, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke before, finally, following you upstairs.

"You can't," you giggled, sensing his arousal. The intensity in Cillian's eyes was undeniable and, before you knew it, you found yourself in bed with him, naked and sweaty from the anticipation.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Cillian said, his voice low and husky as he ran his hands up and down your body.

You could feel the heat radiating from Cillian's touch and, as his fingers roamed over your breasts, you couldn't help but moan with pleasure. You loved the way Cillian touched you, like you were the only woman in the world.

"And I love you so fucking much," Cillian groaned, leaning forward to kiss you.

His tongue delved into your mouth, tasting you as if you were the sweetest nectar.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands roaming over his back, feeling every inch of him, committing him to memory.

Cillian's arousal was evident as his cock twitched against your thigh, and you couldn't help but reach down to wrap your fingers around it. He gasped as you began to stroke him slowly, feeling the velvety softness of his cock in your hand.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, breaking the kiss as he looked down at you with a desire-filled gaze.

Without releasing his cock, you rolled onto your back, pulling Cillian with you.

He moved over you, his eyes burning with need as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You could feel the tip of his cock probing at your wetness, and you moaned with anticipation, the thought alone causing a slickness that trickled down your thigh.

Cillian groaned, his hands gripping your hips, rendering you helpless as he slowly pushed inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he breathed, his hips rocking gently as he adjusted to your tight heat.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel all of him.

Cillian's grip tightened on your hips, and he began to move in earnest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close and letting go of all your inhibitions.

Cillian's fingers wound through your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your throat to his eager lips. He kissed and bit at your neck, leaving wet, red marks that made you moan with pleasure.

"Oh god," you cried, writhing under him, your body begging for more as he thrust harder and faster.

Cillian's breath was hot and heavy against your skin as he panted with the exertion of pleasure, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room, a rhythmic, primal symphony of desire.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Cillian growled, his movements quickening as he neared his release.

"I am so close, Cillian. Don't stop," you begged, your words coming out in pants.

"Never," he growled, his hips snapping forward as he drove himself even deeper inside of you.

Your bodies moved in sync, a dance as old as time itself. The bed creaked beneath you, a symphony of pleasure playing out before you.

Cillian's hands gripped your hips tighter as he felt the familiar sensation of his orgasm building deep within him.

"Cillian, I'm going to come," you cried out, your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own climax building.

You cried out his name as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave. Your muscles contracted around Cillian's cock, pulling him even deeper inside of you as he groaned in ecstasy.

Cillian's hips stuttered, and he pressed deeper into you, his orgasm slamming into him as he filled you with his seed.

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both panted and trembled in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

Cillian rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay sprawled across his chest, your breathing slowly returning to normal as you listened to the pounding of his heartbeat against your ear.

You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and the ache between your legs was a constant reminder of the pleasure they had just shared.

Cillian's tongue found yours, and the two of you kissed passionately, tangling your limbs together as you savored the afterglow.

Eventually, Cillian pulled away, looking down at you with a soft, lingering stare. "I love you so much, Y/N," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too, Cillian," you responded, your voice just as tender as his, not knowing the secret he was holding from you.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

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minty-mumbles · 2 days

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Thinking about Revali makes me emotional. Because like:

He is an adult. Google says he's 21, but I always thought he was 25-28.

He would be an adult who is well established in his community as a warrior, to the point where he, above anyone else, was offered the position of Champion. It would make him bitter about the fact that he's considered support to this unassuming hylian child who is ten years younger than him. He's supposed to play second fiddle to this kid and it stings.

Think about the horror of Revali's ghost spending a hundred year in Vah Medoh, stewing in his own anger. He died at the hands of a foe that was supposed to be easy to defeat. They had everything needed: the princess, the heroes, the four divine beasts.

But they failed. It didn't work. So many of the people Revali swore to protect are gone now, slaughtered by the calamity. Revali is dead also, and that hurts to think about. (It hurts even more to think about the sight of his dead body decaying on the floor of Vah Medoh, so he tries not to think about that. He focuses on his anger instead)

So Revali's anger festers for a hundred years, and it finds a target in Link, the hylian champion, who was supposed to be everything they needed to survive this prophesied apocalypse.

(They had hoped Link was all they needed to avert the calamity, because no matter how hard she tried, Zelda's powers did not awaken until it was too late.) They had to put all their trust in Link. But Link wasn't good enough. He died. Sure, Zelda couldn’t unlock her sealing powers, but that wasn’t really her fault. She was doing every damn thing she could. But Link? Link had every divine right and divine blessing he could ask for, and he. Still. Failed.

Revali is looking for someone to blame, and it would be so easy for him to blame Link for that. And it makes Revali all the angrier. Why did Revali have to play second fiddle to Link in life when it turned out he wasn't that great anyways?

So Revali is planning on making it difficult when Link gets to Vah Medoh. He wouldn't make it impossible, because he does actually want to see the calamity defeated and as much as he hates it, Link is their best shot at that.

But then Link get there, and he... is so small.

After a hundred years, Revali forgot what Link looks like. And Link looks like a 16 year old child. And he looks so scared when he sees the mini guardians in Vah Medoh, even though Revali knows that Link is more than capable of dealing with them. Link's fear and the scars that cover the boy forcibly remind Revali that Link died to machines like these.

And Revali is overwhelmed by the realization that Link was a child who was sent to fight and die for a kingdom. And he feels his hatred sizzle out like a campfire is a rainstorm. Because Link is so small.

I don’t know, I just keep thinking about Revali being a grown man realizing the horror of sending children to fight a war no one was prepared for. And he still doesn't like Link but he can't blame him anymore, can no longer find that hatred he used to have for the hylian champion

#this was in my drafts for 6 months and it's not super coherent but sure I'll post it #loz #botw link #botw revali

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silverameco · 2 days

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Locked in a Room - @wolfstarmicrofic - 718 words

"Sirius. Why the hell did the door just disappear ?"

"Hum. That's actually a great question Moonshine."

In an attempt to flee from Filch, Sirius had led them to the Room of Requirement. It looked quite cosy, with a large, plushy couch and a warm fireplace. It would have been perfect if not for the empty wall where the door had been mere seconds before.

Remus sat on the couch with an annoyed huff. Great, now he was even more angry with him.

"Come on, Moons, look at the bright side. It's basically your dream place. There are books, even."

Sirius was rewarded with a blank stare for his efforts. He was starting to feel his nerves get to him.

"Will you at least tell me what I did ? You've been like this for weeks ! Whatever it is, I'll fix it, I promise. I can't bear it when you're angry with me, Moony. Please, I'm dying over here."

He had let himself fall at the other end of the couch at some point during his rant. Remus was looking at him with wide eyes, seemingly surprised. Like he wasn't the one avoiding him all the time.

"It's not- you didn't do anything. I'm not angry with you."

Sirius had the sudden urge to stomp and demand answers like a child. He loved Remus' mysteries, but sometimes it was so frustating.

"Then what ? I know there's something. I know you."

He got closer to Remus, who raised his knees against his chest with his arms wrapped around them, like a barrier. His eyes were frantically searching Sirius' face.

"I can't tell you. You're going to hate me." he hid his face against his knees.

Sirius got close enough to put his hands on Remus' cheeks and raise his head again.

"Yeah, right. Like you thought I was going to hate you when I discovered you were a werewolf or when you told me you were gay. Haven't you learn Moony ? There's nothing that could ever make me hate you."

He hoped his sincerity was clear. Remus was looking at him with his lips slightly parted and his eyes swimming in emotion. His cheeks wore a light pink tint and his skin was so, so soft under his fingers. Before Sirius could register it happening, he was so close he could count the other's freckles, their foreheads touching.

It seemed only right than the next thing he did was pressing his lips against Remus'. He didn't think about it long enough to convince himself it was a bad idea. He just did it, like it was the only thing that had to be done. When Remus kissed him back, slow and soft, Sirius was pretty sure it was.

It didn't last nearly long enough. When they parted, Remus quickly moved to sit normally on the couch, bringing Sirius with him so he could straddle his lap. Sirius blinked and looked at him with a lopsided smile.

"What is it then ?"

"I love you." he whispered.

Sirius brought his arms around his neck and pressed his smile against his ear.

"I love you too."

They kissed for a long time after this. What started soft and sweet quickly turned hungry and passionate. Sirius was in heaven. He could feel Remus' warmth everywhere. He wanted to stay there forever. How convenient that they couldn't leave anyway.

"Hum, Sirius ?" Remus left his mouth to kiss his neck. "The door is back."

"Oh. But we don't have to leave right now, do we ?" he asked with a wicked smile.

"I suppose we don't." he answered, bringing his lips back to his neck.

When they finally got out, after what felt simultaneously like two decades and two minutes - even though Sirius knew it was probably two hours - Remus asked him what he thought about when he led them to the Room.

"Just that I needed somewhere to talk to you. Not my fault the Room thinks the only way for you to stop being stubborn is to lock you somewhere." he said with a proud smile.

#they're disgustingly sweet #i'm addicted to fluffy wolfstar #silv writes things #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

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cosmicjoke · 1 day

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Could It Be That We Finished Our Mission Way Back Then?

I think people often grossly misunderstand and often twist Levi's sense of directinlessness after Erwin died to fit some sort of interpretation of his character as being solely motivated by or only caring about Erwin, whether that's to badmouth his character as being Erwin's "sidekick" or to push this agenda of some sort of romance between them.

But as usual, with these sorts of interpretations, people cherry pick and ignore context.

The above panels are vital to understanding Levi's sense of directionlessness after Erwin's death.

He says

"Could it be that we finished our mission way back then? When we got those brats to the sea? Did the part we had to play end there?"

Levi feeling lost and without direction after they retook Wall Maria has to do with the fact that the nature of the problem they were facing completely changed. It went from freeing the people of the Walls from the threat of the Titans to suddenly facing the threat of entire nations and other countries and people.

Levi was recruited into the Survey Corps to begin with because of his exceptional skills on the ODM gear, and thus, his exceptional ability to kill Titans.

But after they retook Wall Maria, the Titan threat was pretty much eliminated. Levi's skills and the specific abilities he brought toward the end goal of attaining humanity's victory over the Titan's were no longer required. The thing he brought and was able to give humanity, his incredible physical prowess in killing Titans, was rendered basically obsolete.

His sense of directionlessness and uncertainty has to do with the fact that he no longer feels he has a role to play in saving humanity, because the problem facing them has completely shifted. He muses above about whether "their mission" was to get "those brats", meaning the younger generation, to the sea, and wonders if "the role they had to play" ended there. He's talking about attaining freedom for these kids from the Titan threat and, that being the mission of the Survey Corps, feeling like, in that moment, their own role, the veteran scouts role, was complete. Levi talks during the Uprising arc about "choosing the hell of people killing each other over the hell of being eaten", and again, he's talking about eliminating the threat of the Titans so that people can actually have a choice in how they live, even if how they choose to live is its own kind of hell.

Levi never believed in a utopian world. He just wanted people to be able to live and choose for themselves how to live. And the way he was able to help them do that was by killing Titans and ending the threat of the Titans against them. Without Titans serving as a threat, he doesn’t know how his abilities can be used anymore to help people.

Levi's sense of directionlessness after Erwin dies has got nothing to do with Levi fighting for Erwin, or this idea that, without Erwin, he doesn't know what to fight for.

He still knows what to fight for, he's still fighting for humanity and for his comrades, but he doesn't any longer know what he's supposed to do in that fight, because, again, the nature of that fight has changed, and he feels like maybe all he could do to help the younger generation attain freedom has already been done.

And particularly in relation to Erwin, it was Erwin who first showed Levi how he could best utilize his abilities to help people. It was Erwin who directed Levi in how to use his strength to free humanity, and Levi relied on that direction from Erwin toward that end. Without Erwin there to direct him, again, Levi became unsure of how his abilities could or should be used to fight for others.

So, again, his loss of direction wasn't because he lost the thing he was fighting for. He was never fighting for Erwin. He was fighting for humanity, for his comrades, for "those brats". His loss of direction was because he no longer knew what he could do to continue to help people, when the way he'd helped people was by using his great strength to eliminate a threat that, at that point, no longer really existed. Remember what Levi says to the dying soldier at the beginning of the story? "I swear to you, I'll kill every last Titan". And he promises that soldier that he'll use his sacrifice to give him strength toward that end. He makes the promise to that soldier to kill all the Titans, because that's what that soldier sacrificed his life for. It's the same promise Levi makes in his quest to kill Zeke. He makes the promise to accomplish it because it's what all those soldiers in Shinganshina died for. It's something Levi can accomplish for his comrades. It's something he can achieve to help them. Like I'm always talking about, it's not for the dream itself that Levi fights, but for people, for his comrades, and for humanity as a whole.

Being able to kill Titan's gave Levi a clear directive in that drive to help people. Being able to kill Zeke also gave Levi a clear directive in how to help his comrades.

All Levi ever cared about was helping as many people as he could. It wasn't that Levi was fighting for Erwin, and without Erwin, Levi didn't have anything left to fight for. It was about fighting for people. About helping people. He knew how to do that when the only threat they seemed to be facing was the threat of the Titans.

When the nature of that threat changed, Levi no longer knew how to help.

That doesn't mean he didn't care about helping people, or humanity. Quite the contrary. His general uncertainty and doubt in the aftermath of the RtS arc, and, subsequently, his strong desire to kill Zeke, is reflective of how much he still wanted to help others, is reflective of him searching for a way, for a clear path, toward that end. Killing Zeke was a concrete goal he could cling to in that regard. A concrete way for him to apply his abilities toward helping his comrades, particularly, the comrades that had given their lives for the goal of Zeke's death, when everything else for him was left ambiguous and unknown. When he no longer knew how he could help, even as the deep, driving desire to remained.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #analysis #meta #commentary

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beauty-and-passion · 3 days

Note

This is going to sound really strange but the most recent GRWM video has. Some of the best Janus characterisation I think we’ve seen in a while?? Also he canonically sheds now, so

You are not wrong, anon: this is the best characterization in a while. It's way better than the last one, in which Janus was mostly a drunk idiot, and it's way worse than SvS. This one sits in the middle: it's not bad, it's not amazing. It's good.

Just like Mr. Sanders' last videos regarding Sanders Sides, this GRWM is okay. Not groundbreaking, not impressive, not deep, not stupid. Just okay.

And trust me, this is the best possible outcome! When I found out Thomas was planning a video with Janus and it was a GRWM and Janus had questions to answer... I wasn't just scared, oh no. I was absolutely terrified. I feared to see the destruction of Janus' character. I feared to see him being all like: "YASSS QUEEN all I love is WINE and nothing else, also being SASSY is my religion BIATCH".

And we got a bit of that, sure. But it was a bit, not the avalanche I expected. I was bearable.

After all, this is just a random video. There's nothing plot-related here. Heck, there's not even too much Sanders Sides stuff, because this GRWM clearly was Thomas' attempts to reconnect with the character. I shouldn't care too much about it. I shouldn't overanalyze it.

But you know me: you know I love to over-analyze. And if you know me, you also know that Remus is my favorite child, but Janus has a special place in my heart and if one little thing about him is off I will start rambling.

Hence why I will overanalyze the shit out of these 9 minutes of a video and I will do what I shouldn't do, i.e. look back into the past's characterization. Not for shaming Mr. Sanders for not remembering it (even if the videos still exist and he can watch them too if he wants), but to remind you all of Janus' personality. The public needs to remember what kind of character he was and who he became.

So I'll over-analyze everything and no, you can't escape. You're stuck with me here, so put your seatbelt on, because you're in for one of the things I love the most: talking about Janus.

The importance of nuance

Let's talk about make-up a little bit. Don't worry, by the end you will understand my point.

The current make-up isn't even comparable to the past one. And if a lot of people complain about it and prefer the old one, it's not because they're all demanding: it's because of nuances.

Let me explain and let's start with the current photo Mr. Sanders showed to promote the GRWM video:

If you look at this make-up, your eyes will inevitably be drawn towards that sharp black line. And as soon as you will look at it, you will immediately register it as a drawn line.

It's so clear and so evident it's a line, I can literally see the black liquid eyeliner, the tip and the hand tracing that line on Thomas' skin.

But this line isn't supposed to be a line: it's supposed to be/resemble a snake's mouth.

Now, look at the past make-up:

The line isn't sharp black: the line is nuanced. You can see a bit of brown and a hint of red/pink to give it depth and emphasize the shadow.

Also, this color is very similar to the little shadow given by Thomas' upper lip on the lower one, so it looks more natural against his skin tone. It doesn't seem like something added on him, but on something that was already part of him. And isn't that the goal of make-up? To add something and disappear, so people won't notice it exists in the first place?

Look at the eye as well: the past one is a softer, more nuanced pink. It looks more natural, against Thomas' skin tone. The present one is so dark, it looks more like a bad bruise.

So the problem with the current make-up isn't just that the colors aren't the same: it's that the current colors are too much. They're too sharp, too saturated and, consequently, too fake. It's clear that Thomas wears make-up, while in the past the blend was softer, the colors closer to Thomas' actual complexion. Consequently, the make-up faded and gave us an illusion of reality.

I know Mr. Sanders had skin conditions and everything, but I'm talking about colors and nuances here. Two things a make-up artist should know better than me, an idiot on the Internet who loves art, color theory and learns from artists on the web. You can obtain these things independently of the used products.

So my opinion on the make-up would be: please Mr. Sanders, switch for softer tones, no sharp black and no coral. Too much. Nuance is the key.

And not just for make-up.

---

The fakeness of reality tv

Janus enjoys reality television because nothing about it is real. His specific words are:

I very much enjoy reality television: the scheming, the plotting, the lying. Every person for himself and even on top of that, all of the production none of reality television is actually real. It's just delightful.

I get the idea behind it and I understand why Thomas thought it was a good choice. On paper, it works: Janus should enjoy this kind of show because it's made of lies and he's Deceit.

But if I follow this line of thought, I inevitably meet with Janus from Into the Unknown:

[Patton]: Well yeah I guess you'd like it, everyone all dressed up, disguised as someone else... [Janus]: How is it we've had so many of these visits and you still know so little about me?

Janus himself said that not everything associated with lies is something he enjoys. And it makes sense, because Logan too said the same thing in the last Aside:

"Is that all I am to you? The reading guy?"

So now I'm asking: why does he like reality tv? Just because it's fake? Then why is he so happy about it being fake? Reality tv should represent reality, it should mirror how society works. And thanks to SvS, we know Janus doesn't hold society into high consideration:

[Deceit]: Society itself is a lie! (...) You get enough people to share a piece of land and breathe the same air and... you've got a society. Why? It's just a bunch of people in the same general area. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed! But we obey these rules or get punished for breaking them. All in the name of society. It's absurd and terrifying.

Just like society, reality tv has a group of people put together and they make a society. It's an abstract concept, as real as the monster under your bed. And these people must obey the rules or get punished for breaking them.

And yet, Janus doesn't think reality tv is "absurd and terrifying", but "delightful".

Again: why does he like it? Why does he like something so similar to what he hates most?

Maybe you can live with the "It's fake" explanation and that's good for you. But what if instead of liking reality tv because "it's fake", Janus likes it, because it perfectly mirrors the flaws and the emptiness of society? What if he enjoys it, because he loves the irony of society using its own means to unmask itself and show its real face? What if he watches it, not because "it's delightful", but because it's bittersweet to see such an inability to understand your own flaws?

Which explanation do you think is more fitting for his character?

---

Remus eats glue sticks

Of course he does. His digestive system is probably able to digest molten lava, so glue sticks are a walk in the park for him, bless his chaotic soul <3

(Have I already said Remus is my favorite boi?)

---

The possibilities of shedding

Okay, the "Have you considered not having pores?" is hilarious and I love it on multiple levels.

Well, here we are. Janus sheds, two to four times a year. And I know the fandom went crazy over this and I'm happy for you... but I never really cared too much about it.

I mean: it's fine, but I can't really think of anything truly special to headcanon about it. Snakes shed their skin all the time and they just chill around, while slowly peeling their skin off. It's not dangerous, it doesn't hurt, it's just exfoliation time✨. I mean, does it hurt you, when you remove sunburnt skin? Don't think so. The worst thing for snakes is probably not being able to take the skin off with hands, since they don't have hands.

But hey, this is canon now, so I should probably integrate it in my headcanon. And I can do it in two different ways:

The shedding is just part of Janus' routine: twice a year he gets one day off, takes a reeeeally long bath and slowly peels off his skin until he's done.

I can take inspiration from this fanart and imagine the shedding as a real "leaving your body behind" process, in which Janus slowly gets submerged into his room and re-emerges as a form of pure power and instincts, which then solidifies into a new body. I think I like this idea more, because when I go with Janus, I need something that makes him look either more god-like or more monster-like.

And since we're talking about snake traits, how many more does he have? Because I already added a few on my list, like:

sunbathing

climbing trees

laying everywhere (especially on trees)

taking long relaxing baths

And I'm just waiting for an excuse to add "mating". But I suppose only future will tell.

---

What you don't like

"An important aspect of being oneself, in addition to knowing what you like, is knowing what you don't like and saying to that thing: ew get away from me, I don't like you... Roman"

Okay, that was genuinely funny and it made me smile, so kudos for that, Mr. Sanders. It was a clever move and I enjoyed it.

Also, for more reasons I will explain further down, this makes me want to write a conversation between Janus and Roman, to study how they work together, why they don't like each other and their personalities in general. My only problem would be to put it on a timeline, because I don't like to write things suspended in a temporal vacuum. If inspiration strikes, maybe I'll do it.

---

Religion... and self-preservation

Now, I don't know who made that question about Jesus Christ, but you. You. You gave me real fear... but also indirectly confirmed one of my headcanons, so thank you, I suppose.

I was bracing myself, waiting and hoping Thomas didn't say anything stupid, because Janus and religion have a super tight bond and one misstep can lead to me rambling for the rest of my life, all while throwing canon into the trash because no one can say anything wrong about the relationship Janus has with religion, not even Mr. Sanders.

But the answer was... okay. Harmless. A bit simplistic, maybe, but I can accept Janus saying that Jesus is cool for having followers and turning water into wine.

What really struck me the most was when he said Jesus is his style because "he refuses to die".

For me, that's the most important part of the video. You can take away everything else, because this is the only part that matters for me.

Why? Because this is the essence of self-preservation. Because, as I said in the past, self-preservation is that force that protects you from dangers, threats, even yourself. And it protects you from death. It's part of that intrinsic will to live that defines all living creatures.

So, since Janus encompasses this role too, it has always been implied (at least for me) that he's that force that will fight against death until the end, just to make Thomas live a little longer. In my headcanon, he literally refuses to think Thomas can die before his time, because he's built to not make this happen.

Hence why when I saw Janus putting such emphasis on the idea that Jesus refuses to die made me immensely happy, because it's (implied) canon. Janus refuses to die, because he will never surrender to death. Because it's his nature, to never surrender to it.

---

Deceit or Ego?

The snake telepathy part was fun when mentioned, then it was followed by the "memememe I'm gorgeous" part, which is perfect if you're the representation of Ego, a bit less if you're deceit.

Speaking of that, I think there's a bit of confusion in Thomas' mind regarding these two aspects. And since they're represented by two different Sides, the contrast is even more jarring.

Janus is confident and this is part of his personality. But confidence isn't repeating "me" in your head 400 times and telling yourself that you're gorgeous and handsome even when sitting still. This isn't confidence, this is Ego. This is something Roman could say to himself... and he did it, in the past. He looked at himself all the time, called himself gorgeous, asked if his makeup was okay because the prince's gonna slay, said he dramatically serenaded himself in front of the mirror. All these things are a constant reconfirmation of yourself and this is what the Ego does: it constantly reconfirms you're great and cool and gorgeous.

Confidence, on the other hand, doesn't need constant confirmations. If you're confident, you already know you're great, you don't need to repeat it yourself. You just do your things and if others criticize you, you shrug their reprimands off.

One example of confidence from this video? This part:

"What are my guilty pleasures?" Guilty pleasures? Why would a pleasure be guilty? I've got none of those. Indulge in your pleasures guilt-free, people: life is short.

This proves Janus is confident, WAY MORE than him repeating how cool he is. This is the tone he should've had for most of the video, not that "Oh, look at how cool I am".

Also because it may seem a paradox, but the more you repeat how cool you are, the less people will believe you. That's why people who constantly show off are perceived as weak and insecure: because they search for a constant reconfirmation they would probably never need, if they were truly confident.

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All of the selfcare - and what else?

Aside from the things I already mentioned, the rest of the video is mostly made of advice like "your opinion is the only one that matters/others are less than you/don't give a shit about others".

I don't know if this is Mr. Sanders making a reminder to himself to not indulge in criticism too much, but okay, let's ignore it XD

These pieces of advice can all be traced back to another aspect of Janus' personality: the self-care one. The last canonical one.

And since it's the last, I can understand why Thomas latched onto it and made it be like 60% of the video. It's probably the part of Janus' character he remembers the most.

And it's the easiest too, along with the "sassy" aspect. Put them together and you get the sassy queen who tells you to relax dear, don't give a fuck about the rest of the world.

So I understand you, anon, when you say this is the best characterization in a while: it is, because it's based on the last canonical piece of Janus' character, mixed with the "sassy" aspect that developed more recently. Of course it seems more coherent with Janus' character, compared to him being drunk for an entire video.

But even if canonical, self-care is just an aspect of Janus' personality and it makes most of the video. The remaining part is a huge amount of Ego, which shouldn't even be here, because it's Roman's trait.

And the other aspects? Nowhere to be seen. No distaste for society, no cryptic language, no wittiness, barely any lie, barely any real confidence, barely any body language and zero foreseeing ability.

I know what you're thinking and yes, I said at the beginning that this video is clearly just a way for Mr. Sanders to reconnect with the character. So I understand why Janus' personality is like that and that there are mistakes or incomplete things. I am not blaming Thomas for trying.

I am writing this post, to remind you Janus' full personality. To remind you that he's not just "sassy wine aunt/self-care queen".

On the contrary, I think present Janus is exactly like his make-up: the traits are similar to the original one, but the aspects are too sharp. They should be here, they are part of him, but they're not in the exact shade or nuance to be him. They are similar, but off, because something is missing. And that something is nuance.

In the end, that's what this post is all about: nuance. Past Janus was more nuanced, because he was more than one aspect. Present Janus is less nuanced, because he's stuck between two aspects - which is a truly cruel irony, considering his entire thing is being a gray, multifaceted character.

My only hope is that, just like with the make-up, Mr. Sanders will find a way to bring nuances back into Janus' character and make him at least similar to who he used to be.

#sanders sides #ask #thomas sanders #janus sanders #I just love this character a lot #he has a ton to offer #and he has such a gray multifaceted personality #he doesn't deserve to become a one-dimensional cardboard

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