#(especially because she spends so much time in france)

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

🌞 also for Ivy!! ^_^

[wosowrites]

Good Girl (Ona Batlle x Reader)

warnings: smut, pr@ise k!nk

a/n: based off this request here and it is not proof read sorry.

prompt: in which it’s Ona and the readers first time sleeping together so the reader gets really nervous, resulting in Ona taking over and showing her dominant side.

You were extremely outgoing. You were the loudest in the changing rooms, the one who played the music, the first on the dance floor and the last to back down from a challenge. When you scored the opening goal or any goal during a tournament you made sure the whole stadium could hear your screams of joy. Your celebrations were famous throughout the women’s football community. So that’s why no one could have ever expected how absolutely nervous and almost submissive you were in bed.

When Ona found this out… she could not have been more pleased.

There had been some flirting between you and Ona for a year now. But it was very hard to tell what was just good old spanish friendliness and what was genuine romantic interest. The line was thin.

Ona would hold you close to her for long periods of time, guide you by your waist through crowds, kiss your cheek dangerously close to your lips, let her hand rest low on your hips and make a point of hugging you often when you were out on swim trips together. Nothing drove her more insane than the feeling of your skin on hers.

But neither of you had ever given in to your desires, both assuming the other wasn’t interested. You proved the other wrong in a hotel pool.

Manchester was playing Aston Villa in London and Mark had decided to let the team have the day off in London so the team would be arriving 24 hours before the game, spending the night at a hotel and then having a quick morning training session before the 3:00 pm game.

You all walked London, checking out landmarks and eating strongly mediocre food. Although your english was flawless and you barely had an accent, you were french Canadian and had played in France so you often missed the food in France.

By 9:00 most girls were lying in bed as instructed, but because you were rooming by yourself this time around due to an un even number of people there was no one to tell you to stay in bed. So, you slipped your bathing suit on and headed to the roof where there was a pool.

You loved swimming, especially in London spring. It was chilly and the water, cold as well, made your body feel good and helped you forget about every worry and unwelcome thought in your head.

You climbed to the roof, happy to see it deserted. You threw your towel to the side and then dived into the deep end. You loved the water so much because when you were around water during your childhood, it was one of the rare times you were happy. You let the water consume you and wash away your thoughts. You thoughts of tomorrows game, thoughts of the fight against Canada Soccer, thoughts of Ona…

But the second your brain wandered to Ona you couldn’t help it. When Ona was in your brain, so was her body. The way her hand we’re carved out to perfection, the shape of her chest under her training top and the way her arms flexed when she took shots.

All these thoughts ran through your head in only a couple seconds and then you emerged out of the water.

"Night swim?" a voice asked while your eyes were still closed due to you recently emerging from the water.

"Holy crap. Do not sneak up on me like that!" you squealed, opening your eyes and pushing your hair back and away from your face. "Sorry chica," Ona said with a wink.

You swam towards her to the edge of the pool, crossing your arms on the deck and looking up at her. The spaniard slipped off her shorts and hoodie, revealing her abs, arm muscles and tattoos. You stared to say the least until Ona snapped her fingers in front of your face, making you blush. "Sorry," you mumbled. "Don’t apologize, I’m looking at you too," she said, dipping her feet into the pool.

It was hard to tell with the young defender, hard to know what was flirting and what was just classic Ona.

"The waters really nice," you said to her, pushing your feet against the wall and gliding on your back, away from Ona and into the shallow end.

You held eye contact with the brunette, until a glow came across her face. "How much trouble do you think we would get in if we skinny dipped?" Ona said, walking around the pool towards you.

"Skinny dipping?!" you shrieked, taken aback and sounding a little more childish and stuck up than you wanted. You wanted the spaniard to think of you as being fun and loose. "Yeah y/l/n," she answered with a playful smirk. "Well. Jeez I think we’d get in a lot of trouble," you answered with a concerned frown on your face. "So you’re saying you wouldn’t like it?" Ona said, pushing a little further.

She had never seen this side of you before. You were always loud, energetic, and borderline agressive. This? This was different.

"No! I mean. No. I-yes. Yes I would like it," you blushed, starting to head into Ona’s direction.

She watched you with unblinking eyes as you swam up to her and stood up in the shallow end. Ona sat down with her toes in the water and spread her legs slightly for you to stand between, focusing on the small piece of cloth keeping you decent. "There aren’t any cameras, I asked," Ona said to you, looking up from your chest and into your eyes. "Something about not violating the privacy of the clients. Hotel policy," she added. "Mhm," you said softly, looking up into Ona’s eyes.

Your angle gave her a perfect view of you. Your wet hair, your sparkling body decorated with droplets of water. "You look beautiful," Ona said softly, just barely audible over the sound of the street below and your racing heart. "Where is all of this coming from?" you said softly, suddenly avoiding eye contact with her. "It’s coming from the fact that you are beautiful. Not just right now but always. And I may have had a drink and one drink Ona is extremely confident," she said, using her index to lift your chin.

The spaniard was now sitting on the edge of the pool with only a red bathing suit on to cover her up. Her stomach was toned and her arms were strong. Not in a threatening way, just in a hot way.

"No cameras, you said?" you whispered, your voice a hushed sound. "No cameras," she said, leaning back and subtly flexing her abdominals.

You were still standing between her legs and you gently placed your hands on her thighs, digging your nails into them softly and surely leaving little crescents on her skin. She didn’t even flinch.

Ona sat up straight and then stood up, giving you a look to follow her. You pushed yourself out of the pool and stood facing the slightly taller girl.

Her eyes were dark and hungry, but also warm and welcoming. She had always had that contrast. The one of always being alert and the one of being laid back. It was a strange mix.

The spaniard turned around and moved her loose hair out of the way, brining it to lie on her front. You saw that the back of her suit was tied by a string and slowly, with shaking hands, you lifted them up and grabbed both ends of the tie.

The way the strings fell apart freely and then slipped off Ona’s shoulder sent your body into over drive. You stood with your hands hovering over her bare back until she slowly turned around to face you. Your eyes brushed over her bare chest before landing on her eyes. "You’re beautiful. Tu est tellement parfaite." You told her adoringly. She smiled at you, a big toothy grin before slipping her thumbs under her bikini bottom and pulling it off.

You mimicked her, letting her unclasp the back of your bathing suit and then letting it fall to the ground. She put her hands on your waist and turned you around.

You felt like a ballerina.

A super gay, super secretly in love ballerina.

Ona slipped off your bottoms and then cupped your face gently. "Ready?" she asked you, her voice steady while you knew yours would be hectic. "Yeah," you let out.

Ona went in first, lowering herself to the pool and then turning to face you. You threw a worried glance behind your shoulder, half expecting someone to come in screaming at you both, but no one did. So, you walked down the stairs leading to the pool and pushed your way towards Ona. "I can’t believe we’re doing this," you laughed, avoiding eye contact with her. "I can’t believe your so shy. You’re usually loud and excited. Confident," she added.

"I’m not not confident… this is just new," you said, raising your head.

You gently placed your hands on Ona’s hips and rubbed your thumbs around her hip bone. The taller girl gently pulled you in by pushing your lower back closer to her. You moved your hands up from her hips to her ribs and then down to her ass. "Kiss me," you said to her, looking between her eyes and lips.

She did not have to be begged, within milliseconds her lips were trapped into yours, her hands had found shelter on your ass before slipping down to your thighs to pull your legs around her waist. You roughly kissed back, letting her hands roam your hair and using your abs to hold yourself up onto her. Ona’s hands traced every curve, every perfection, every part of yourself that you deemed an imperfection but she thought beautiful. You wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, playing with her baby hairs and scratching the back of her head with your nails. Ona took strides through the water to drop you onto the side of the pool, only separating your lips when necessary.

"Ona," you said to her tentatively as you sat on the poolside, avoiding her eyes. "Yes, mi amor," she said, holding you down gently by placing her hands on your thighs. "I’ve never… done this before," you said, thankful for the dark sky as your cheeks got flushed. "What do you mean? Sex? You’ve never had sex?" she asked, slightly shocked. "Ona! Of course I have," you groaned, pushing her slightly and making her send you a classic dazzling smile. "I mean something like this. In this setting. This is… daring," you told her. "Well then, you’re in luck pretty girl. Spaniards love the extra risk," she said.

Ona put her hand on your chest and pushed you down into a laying position. The taller girl bends your knees and places kisses on your thighs before spreading them to her liking. She took no time and gave you no warning before slipping a finger into you. You were already wet from her kissing you and un clothing you, your walls closing around her and making her laugh at you.

Ona pumped her middle finger into you, curling it from time to time and making you arch your back and try to grab on to the concrete desperately.

"Good god, look at you you’re doing such a good job, cariña," Ona praised.

Her words caught you off guard, your eyes flying open and a small smile forming on your face. Your hips bucked and your legs shook, partly from the oncoming orgasm and partly from the effect of her words. Ona chuckled at you as a wave of courage came over you.

"Ona. I need to come, touch me please," you begged her. "One thing at a time mi vida."

The defender made it seem as though she wouldn’t relieve you immediately, but how wrong you were. A couple seconds later, Ona had pulled out her fingers, leaving you with an uncomfortable empty feeling before pushing her face in between your legs. The brunette swiped her tongue through your lips before harshly pressing it against your clit.

Your hips went flying off the surface, grinding into her head and pushing your wetness more and more into her face. She could have gotten high off your smell and the way you slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the cries of her name.

Ona was clearly experienced, the girl finding the perfect balance of sweet spots praise, and pleasure. You never wanted her to stop.

But eventually, when the spaniard dragged her nails over your bare abs and then latched onto your nipple, there was nothing more you could do to elongate the feeling of her face between your legs. You came onto her shaking and crying out, feeling slightly embarrassed at how easily she had made you cum.

Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved heavily, the heat in your stomach slightly fading but the ache in between your legs still present.

You heard movement in the water and soon enough the naked brunette was towering over you. "You did such a good job pretty girl," she said, looking down at you with a teasing smirk.

You knew your face turned bright red when the heat in your stomach transferred to your face.

Ona held out her hand and you grabbed it happily, letting her pull you up. You weren’t on your feet long though as your legs gave out, making Ona grab you underneath the arms and hold you steady. "You okay?" she asked you lovingly, her eyes wide and concerned, hoping not to have hurt you. "Yes. More than, It’s just been a while and you’re…" you gave her a little 'you know' look and she smiled.

Despite being not so tall, she was strong. Before you knew it, you were being carried bridal style towards picnic tables on the pool deck. You rested your head on Ona’s chest and closed your eyes for a couple seconds before opening them. "Wait. I want too- to you. I’m not a pillow princesse," you said to her, looking up. "Another day amor you’re clearly tired," she answered.

The spaniard sat you onto the table and grabbed your towel, gently using it to wipe you down. You surely hadn’t realized how much love was in your eyes as she helped you get dressed into your bathing suit again, but she did. She noticed how dilated your pupils were and how your hands grazed her and held on to her every time she was near.

"Thank you," you told her, leading her to stand between your legs once she was clothed as well. Ona dipped her head and rested it on yours, rubbing her thumb on your cheekbones. You raised yours pull her in by the waist before tilting your head and kissing her sweetly.

[llilyrose]

llilyrose spends her time analyzing aroace stuff. yay.

isat spoilers afoot

what i especially like about the way adrienne wrote mira's orientation is the lack of room for interpretation. yes they snuck aroace talk into fantasy france, but just stop and think for a minute. what would happen if mira just said "i'm aroace" or "i don't feel love the same way" instead of all the nuance we got to her character in the friend quest convo?

we know she's sex repulsed, we know she's romance repulsed. we know she loves fiction that has those things in it, loves interpreting fictional characters that way, but can't bare to see herself in that situation. it makes a lot of sense with regards to her location (vaugarde, a very sex-positive and romance-adamant country) and also with regards to herself (the way she feels about her environment). Of course she wouldn't blame other folk around her for engaging with their religion the "correct" way, of course she'd internalize all her feelings of being outcast and turn it back on herself.

The fandom respects this! Nobody ships her romantically, or sexually, because we know she's not into that. We know she would never and i know a bunch of people who would punch you for even thinking it!

Now what if Adrienne hadn't put this in the game? What if they had just said on their tumblr one day, "mira's aroace," or something. where would we be now? aspec shipping discourse would definitely take the reins. we'd have people shipping her in all kinds of different ways, bending the aroace character to the best of their ability because they could still be into sex, or romance, or whatever. this is TRUE, it's POSSIBLE, but there's no nuance. We wouldn't know the way Mira really feels about these things unless Adrienne told us, so a lot of people would either ignore/"work around" her identity or just wouldn't even know about it to begin with!

Introducing mira's orientation in the way adrienne did leaves no room for discourse. we know if she's sex-positive, sex-negative, how she reacted to finding out she was, etc. It provides so much more representation than a simple "I'm aroace" ever could. It's such a wide label, so finally having CONCRETE information about a canonical aroace's experiences with their orientation is so, so freeing and honestly quite refreshing. and it's worked into the story seamlessly!!!

She's not an emotionless carcass with no capacity for love, she's not outwardly detesting sex or romance at every possible moment, she's simply a well-rounded character who happens to be aroace. You have time to warm up to her before ever even finding out about her orientation! Or having any clue at all (barring maybe the suspicious sketches)!!!!! Aroace people are real!!! We're so real!!!!

Speaking of the suspicious sketches! We know siffrin's alloace (from, like, one line of dialogue), but we don't know if he's sex-repulsed. Adrienne's gone on record to say "aces can still have sex" in reference to siffrin, so I'm inclined to believe he has at least some sort of libido.

When looking at the sketches, both him and mira have a repulsed reaction. I think there are three possible reasons for Siffrin here!

Siffrin is sex-repulsed and has a visceral reaction to them because he thinks it's gross.

Siffrin has no libido because the stress overrides everything in his system. That combined with his ace identity would probably lead to a distaste for the papers.

Some people would NOT GET THE MEMO from the act 3 friendquest. Sometimes when you're writing you have to account for the gamers being really really dense. Some people didn't even understand the Isa friendquest was him coming out as trans basically. Since Ace characters are hard to "prove" unless they explicitly state they dislike sex, this line of dialogue might've just been there to drill it in that Siffrin is ace because the only other place we see that implication is one line in the friendquest. It could even have no tie to his relationship with sex, who knows?

one of these options is not like the others! /silly

I couldn't tell you which one of those it is, but i think at least one of them had to have hit the mark. It's a lot harder to decode siffrin's sexuality when we only get like 5 lines of dialogue total that vaguely even reference it

With this we come back to the issue from earlier: He could be demi, he could be ace, he could be sex-repulsed, he could not! Most people write them sex-repulsed and I'm personally on that bandwagon, but interpreting them a different way isn't any less correct unless you completely ignore the fact they're ace in the first place.

Even sex-positive aces have complicated relationships with sex. Some do it for the gratification, some simply have higher libido and can't think of a different way to get it out, and others only do it to please their partner.

I think writing an ace character as sex-positive should be seen as a character study instead of an excuse to ship two characters together. Is this character the type to even enjoy it in the first place? How often? How do they interact with it? Etc. Which I think is what Adrienne was talking about when she said "aces can still have sex." We don't know about siffrin's identity, we don't have a grasp on the nuance, but we do know he's ace and that he experiences love differently from the way mirabelle does, and the way isabeau does, and the way odile does, and what have you.

I love love love the representation we get in isat. An aroace, an alloace, and someone that a lot of fans headcanon as aroallo though it's unconfirmed. Even if Odile's not aro, we still get that line of dialogue about not finding romance suitable for her at the moment, which speaks true to a different experience altogether. No two characters experience love, experience life the same in isat. That's why i get to make a tumblr text post that's a bit too long exploring the different avenues adrienne took when writing the characters lol :')

[maddascanbe-blog]

Ladies and Gentlemen. I give you Little Vesperia. She's a powerful punch in a petite package! I posted her design in sketches ages ago but I was SO jazzed to finally do it digital. And I finally could do Teen Zoé and Vesperia.

Buckle up folks this is a long one.

I won't go into too much detail on Teen Zoé's fit, since I already talked about it in here. But Vesperia is where things get more interesting.

Little Vesperia obviously takes more inspiration from Queen Bee since in my rewrite Zoé idolizes Chloé so much. Zoé's father couldn't really be bothered to care about Zoé, she's been at every boarding school and summer camp he could afford while still keeping most of the money Audrey sends him. She rarely sees him, and when they are stuck together he wants her out of sight and out of mind.

Then Zoé is uprooted entirely when Audrey's infidelity is exposed. To save face she gets brought to Paris, to play at being one big happy family. She may be young, but she's wise enough to know this is just another person using her for their gain. She did face bullying at her schools, and a whole lot of nothing done about it from the teachers.

She also does not speak french. Which means that a good 70% of people have no idea how to communicate with her. And Audrey was no help. Zoé vas given so little information she didn't even KNOW she had an older sister when the was taken to France. Chloé was a complete blindside to her.

And she especially doesn't expect this intimidating teenager to kneel down to her level, and in perfect english explain that it's okay to be scared and she'll make sure Zoé won't be stuck wondering what's gonna happen next.

They spend the rest of the day learning where everyone is, and what certain things are called in french so that Zoé has a better way to communicate. They also sit down and order decorations for Zoé's room.

Zoé fully anticipated André to ignore her, but he is kind like he is in cannon. Just very busy so can only get in small conversations with her. Still, he's shown her more care than her own father had in the 9 years she's been alive. Since he'll ask her about her day, anything she may need, how school has been, etc. He also manages to get a free day to show her all the cool things in the hotel that most people don't know are there. He tries to have dinner with Chloé and Zoé as often as possible and they eat lunch together at the hotel at least once a week.

Now to Teen Zoé. I'll probably write this down in a separate post but my Idea for her is because of the limits I put on the rabbit miraculous Bunnix is no longer able to fight Timetagger, but she IS able to bring someone from that point in time to help instead. And since bringing anyone that could be recognized could potentially cause a paradox, the best solution is to bring in someone who they haven't met yet.

Design wise I like Vesperia's cannon design but it does look more like a wasp than a bee. I based her top on these biker jackets that had segments on the sides and just made the segments alternate black and yellow. I originally planned to keep the black top and yellow bottoms, but it just didn't look the way I wanted it too. I think making the jacket yellow makes it look much more like a bee. Also black mask because I like how those look better.

I think Little Vesperia looks good too, different enough from Queen Bee while still looking like she took inspiration, my favorite part was making it look like she had striped socks. While Teen Zoé looks like a logical progression while also dipping into badass as opposed to cute. Also her pupils turn gold to further differentiate her from Queen Bee.

(Bonus- Verpseria with colors closer to her originals)

[findingnemosworld]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐦𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫.

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐩*𝐫𝐧.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.

it’s arduous to love someone, even more so when it’s kept in secret – their affair happened rather unexpectedly, he met her at a nations league qualifier match as she’d come to support her brother, his club and national teammate – the sight of her in the stands, proudly cheering the national team as well as her brother had captured his heart, so much so that he was certain it was ' love at first sight '.

a six month period of sporadic encounters in manchester as well as during the international break lead to him finally mustering up the courage to ask her for number leading to a brief period of text messages, voice and video calls which ultimately lead to an affair blossoming in the midst of a hectic time for the two of them, especially her being a recording artist.

while maintaining an affair was arduous due to their careers, maintaining a private affair was far more arduous than what it seemed, sure it was thrilling to sneak away when her brother wasn’t looking yet the pair knew that one way or another, they were bound to tell her brother of their relationship, little did they know that it would be sooner than what they think.

france football, the magazine behind the ballon d’or ceremony had invited her to perform in the ceremony as means to bring more eyes due to her rising popularity, which lead to her to accompanying him, her brother and sister in law – once they’d arrived to france a week before the ceremony, her sister in law had suggested a girls day for them while the boys were spending time together.

after a brief shopping trip, they decided to sit down and have breakfast when her sister in law decided to bring up the topic, by playfully asking her. " so … you and rúben? "

she looks up, her eyes wide in complete surprise. " huh? "

ines raised a brow, her lips curled into an amused smile. " irmã, please … do you think i haven’t noticed the way you two would sneak away everytime bernando and i invite you over? you’re lucky he hadn’t noticed "

obviously ines would notice, she shared a special bond with her sister in law from the moment bernando introduced them, realizing there was no way out, she lets out a soft sigh then says. " i love him ines ! "

ines smiles softly, " i know you do irmã ; i know that he loves you too, but don't you think bernando should know? "

" you know how bernando can get, remember when he threatened rafael three years ago after he thought he was flirting with me? " she shudders softly, recalling the less than stellar moment her old brother threatened his national teammate after spotting him chatting with her after a game.

ines chuckles softly, " but he likes rúben, so do i … so i don’t see why he’d be mad? "

" oh when it comes to my private life, he’s always mad – he threatened so many guys during high school and had even went to my prom ines, my prom just so i wouldn’t go out with a guy " she huffs, then says. " i love him but he had suffocated me with his overprotective nature for so long that rúben is the first glimpse of freedom that i ever experienced, i’m scared of how he will react "

ines nods softly then speaks, " listen, querida … you have my blessings because trust me, i see how he looks at you and he’s in love " she smiles before adding on, " but you have to keep in mind that at one point, one way or another .. bernando has to know "

she nods softly then sighs, " i know "

ines grows silent before she says, " how long has this been going on hm? "

her lower lip is trapped between her teeth for a brief moment before muttering, " a year and a half "

ines’s eyes widen, " a year? you mean that night – the champions league final when i saw you coming out of the tunnel looking flustered and confused "

her cheeks redden as she says, " we were in the locker room, and we -um- … " she looks down.

" don't say it, did you two…? " ines asks with a soft tone before gasping in shock. " you fucked in that locker room!!! "

she covers her face in response for a brief moment then nods before muttering, " yes, and the back of the bus too "

" you dirty girl " ines giggles before adding on, " listen, why don’t i ask bernando to have dinner out so you two can have some alone time to figure things out? "

her eyes soften, " you’d do that for me? "

ines smirks, " what are sisters for hm? i’ll text him later and you can go see rúben "

" i really appreciate you ines, especially for enduring my brother the way you do " she giggles.

ines laughs, " the price of love my dear irmã, now let’s finish eating so we can head up back to the hotel "

later on that night, ines had sent her a message to inform her that the coast was clear; she steps out of her hotel suite then makes her way towards his own suite, she knocks on the door waiting for him to open up, after five minutes, the door opens to reveal rúben standing there, shirtless with his hair disheveled; his cheeks flushed as well. " i … hi " he whispers.

she eyed him, confused by his state before she asks. " are you ok? "

instead of verbally responding, he tugs her into the suite, slamming the door behind him then he proceeded to kiss her passionately before muttering, " i need you " he whispers hoarsely hoisting her up in his arms as he walks towards the bedroom, " i need to feel you wrapped around my cock "

he sits at the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap to kiss her once more before muttering, " come on meu amor, i need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock "

he leans backwards, his back hitting the mattress while her hand wrapped around the length of his cock eliciting a sharp gasp from him, " fuck, please meu amor "

she teased herself, rubbing the tip of his cock against her slick walls causing her to moan, " rúben "

" i know menina doce " he murmured, a strangled moan escaped his lips as his cock seethed through her warm pussy, " jesus, i missed this "

" me too " she whimpers, her palms laying flat against his chest as she leisurely began to move up and down, the delicious friction caused by his cock sent shockwaves across every inch of her skin.

it'd been ages since the pair had seen one another due to her time being taken away from her thanks to the consistent recording sessions, suddenly, his hand reaches up to wrap his hand around her throat drawing out a soft sigh from her, " it's been killing me meu amor, telling your brother that i am in love yet not telling him that it's you " he murmurs.

" i know, but we did promise to be care -oh fuck- " she gasps as he thrusts upwards to meet her pace, " we promised to be careful rúben, and i ... i'm scared of how bernardo will react "

all he could do was release a soft hum as the pair were enveloped by the undeniable passion between them, he understood her reservations as well bernando's reservations, however - he couldn't endure keeping their love a secret anymore, " meu amor, we need to tell him " he grunts in response to her moving at a rapid pace.

" i know, i know ... maybe after the ceremony " she moans as he adds more pressure on her throat. " we can sit him down and tell him everything "

he groans, lifting his body up to trail kisses across her bare chest before murmuring. " i don't wanna hide anymore meu amor "

" i know " she sighs, threading her digits through his hair.

he lifts his head up to capture her lips in a heated kiss, " now, i want to hear you scream, scream for me while you cum on my cock "

she moans in response, her thumb rubbing her clit in a circular motion while she moved rapidly, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, labored breaths escaping her parted lips. " rúben " she whimpers.

" i know meu amor, i'm right there with you " he moans, " keep going ... keep going, fuck " he gasps.

his cock twitched inside of her before releasing ropes of cum inside of her, " jesus, come on meu amor, cum for me " he cooed.

she whines, " oh my god, oh my god fuck " her eyes flutter shut, as a cry escaped her mouth. " oh fuck "

in a matter of minutes, she's nestled in between his legs while their arousal seeped through in between her thighs, she gently grabs his glistening cock, wrapping her soft lips around the pink tip drawing out a strangled whine from him " oh bebé ", the combination of her mouth as well as her tongue had instantly broken down his resolve, he leaned his head back, sinking into the pillow. " jesus, i don't think i will ever grow tired of your mouth around my cock, so fucking war- fuck- " he yells, his muscles contracting in response to her tongue swirling around his tip. " oh fuck, don't stop bebé "

her fingers dance across the underside of his cock further spurring him to thrash, releasing the sweetest sounds before he rode through another orgasm, finally collapsing in a fit of labored breaths, he then proceeds to drag her back up to kiss her before murmuring, " you have no idea just how much i love you "

she smiles, " i love you too "

___

the ballon d'or ceremony was in full swings with several notable players receiving their awards; just before the women's and men's ballon d'or was set to be announced, the hosts begin to speak, " and now for our performer for the night, she's been named artist of the year by billboard and has amassed over eight grammies in the past two years, please welcome the lovely sofia fernanda "

a course of cheers ripples through the venue as she steps out with a broad smile, standing in the middle of the stage with a microphone in hand, a soft beat begins as she sings the lyrics to her newest song, 'a un beso' which had been written three months into her relationship with rúben, a song that he knew all too well as the moment she began to sing, a broad smile appeared across his lips, capturing the attention of bernardo who leaned in to whisper, " you know this song? "

his cheeks reddened as he nods, " yeah, my sister ... she -uh- she showed it to me " he lied.

ines withheld a giggle as she decided to chime in by saying, " it's an amazing song "

" it is " bernando smiles then adds, " i had no idea my baby sister is in love, i wonder who it is? " he mutters.

" yeah " Ines nods, glancing at rúben. " we all do, don't we rúben? "

" mhm " he nods swiftly.

the performance was met with cheers as she concluded, smiling in gratitude before retreating back stage, to allow the ceremony to proceed - and after the ceremony had concluded, the guests had moved on to the after party, rúben and bernando were chatting with their teammates while ines, laura, isabella and her sat together chatting animatedly when ines had caught rúben looking at her sister causing her to giggle and lean in to whisper, " looks like romeo can't keep his eyes off of you "

she shot ines a confused look before following the direction of where she was looking causing her to blush, " ines, stop " she whisper shouts.

" please " ines laughs, " i mean it's becoming too obvious that bernando almost caught him earlier while he checked you out "

she groans softly, " oh my goodness "

" yeah, if i were you i'd tell him before he finds out himself " ines said.

she blows out a soft breath then stands up, " i'll figure it out " she excused herself, sending a look to rúben before passing by him, he waited for about nine minutes before excusing himself to follow her to the balcony where she stood in the dark corner, " meu amor? " he walks up to her, " you were fucking incredible " he pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

" thank you amor " she smiles softly before releasing a soft sigh. " i heard bernando almost caught you "

he chuckles in response, " yeah, but thankfully i saved myself " he pressed another kiss on her shoulder.

she grows silent for a brief moment before replying, " i think we should tell him "

he stops then lifts his head up, " are you sure? " he asks her.

she nods softly, " yeah, i don't think i want to hide it anymore "

he smiles softly, " then it's settled, we tell him but in the mean time " the smile grows mischievous as he backed her up against the wall then kneeled down much to her confusion, " come on meu amor, don't keep me waiting "

a soft gasp escaped her lips, " rúben " she whispers, " we can't do it here "

" meu amor " he whines, caressing her thighs which sent shivers across her body, " please, i'm hungry and i need you "

the combination of his position coupled with the 'puppy dog eyes' he was giving her had broken her resolve, " just be gentle " she murmurs.

he grins, " don't worry but you be quiet hm? "

" i'll try " she whispers, watching as he nestled himself between her legs, her gown hunched up allowing the cool air to prick her skin causing her to moan, " oh "

" careful " he tuts, pushing her panties to the side, chuckling darkly at the sight before him, " jesus, you're drenched and i haven't even touched you " he hums, licking soft stripes to tease before his tongue darted inside of her pussy; his nose bumps into her clit every once in a while.

" rúben " she whines, her digits threading through his hair gently, " i .. fuck, oh fuck!! " she whimpered lowly.

his tongue would move in a leisure torturous motion, drawing out shapes while his tongue nuzzled against her clit - suddenly, in a matter of seconds he'd start to move his tongue rapidly while his hands gripped her thighs while she withered above him, he grunts in response each time she thrusted her pussy against his face. " fuck, fuck ... rúben " she cried softly. " i'm cumming, fuck "

he spurs her further with his tongue until the knot in her abdomen explodes allowing him to lap up every drop of her arousal before pulling back, pulling up her panties then proceeding to kiss her passionately, " so fucking delicious "

a few kisses later, they adjusted themselves ready to sneak out when all of a sudden they hear their names uttered with a confused tone, causing them to turn around simultaneously to find bernando standing there with a confused expression, " what -uh- ... what is this? "

the pair stand there dumbfounded, as they are finally coming face to face with the consequence of keeping their affair a secret, now they had no choice but to admit everything.

[noaltbruh]

@multifandom-hcs Hope you're having a good day too! :))

Bruno and Hermes dating hcs ❤️

Hermes 💋

Chaotic gf. I don't know if you're an introvert or an extrovert, but she will most definitely be more hyped than you for anything.

Loves to try new things with you and go on all sorts of date! From carnivals, to road trips, to that one random place you saw and you're not quite sure if it's a restaurant or a sex shop, but you'll find out together!

Wakes you up at three am. because she just got an idea for what you could do together and you have to do it NOW.

Big on PDA, she's constantly touching you or holding you near her even when you're in public, HECK ESPECIALLY when you're in public.

Loves to show you off to the Stone Ocean gang and can't shut up about how great her partner is.

Definetely teases you and gets even mushier with you if she sees you getting shy.

She'll speak up and stand up for you in any situation, whether that is a stand battle or someone cut in line in front of you.

Always has the biggest grin on her face as soon as she sees you.

Loves to drag you in troubles, but she honestly just wants to have fun with you. Don't worry, if things get out of hand, she knows how to handle policemen.

I think her kisses would be a bit rough, like you can just feel how eager she is to feel her lips on your body.

Is literally always complimenting you and your look, calling you hot, beautiful, handsome, pretty...Whatever you prefer!

"Breath taking as usual, caro/cara!" "I'm...Literally in my pajamas" "Your point?"

Shoplifts for you, I'm sorry. Like- maybe you just saw a cool jewel in a shop and told her you liked it, without really thinking much about it. The next day, you find that exact jewel at your front door.

Opens up about her past and how much she misses her sister, it's one of the few times she genuinely seems sorrowful.

Would love you even more if you accepted to visit her sibling's grave with her. She might cry on your shoulder, so please comfort her.

On a more optimistic note, if she visits her on his own, she even talks to her and you and how awesome you are.

She lets you keep your stuff in her tits without even having to ask her, it's just routine for you two by now.

Loves to do your makeup. Alternatively, if you don't wear it, she still asks you if she can try it on you because she's fully convinced you'd look great with it.

VERY flirty and completely shameless about it, no matter who is watching.

Can't cook lol, but she will gladly take you to any restaurant you like and she'll offer to pay for both of you!

...Yeah, pay.

Bruno 🤐

The boyfriend ever.

He's so romantic and gentle he literally makes me want to cry because he's so perfect and VSGABCAHZCSS.

Just being near him makes you feel safe, you'll never have to fear being judged as long as this man is your partner.

He's calm and understanding. No matter if something is troubling you or you're simply in a bad mood just because, he'll never lose his patience with you.

Encourages you in everything you do, whether that is a small task or a lifelong goal you're trying to pursue, Bruno will always be ready to support you and help you in any way possible.

Might be a bit busy from time to time due to his job, but he makes you to call and text you anytime he gets the chance too. He loves hearing your voice and he wants to be sure that you're doing alright.

He never closes a phone call without an "I love you, tesoro" at the end.

Will make up for the time he missed once he gets back home. He'll do whatever you want to and there aren't limits to how much he's willing to spend for his love.

Do you want to go on a trip to France for the weekend? He already has two tickets and a reservation in the best hotel of the city.

Remember that very fancy restaurant in the city center? Guess who has already reserved a table for two with a beatutil view on the entire city?

Truthfully, however, Bruno enjoys anything as long as he gets to spend it with you. Despite his role in the mafia, he also loves simpler, everyday life with his partner.

Even just going to the local market to buy something together makes him so incredibly happy, and gives him a sense of normality in the mess that's his life.

Not super big on showing affection in public, at least not as much as Mista or Narancia- but he always maintains even a small touch between you.

He loves to hold your hand as you walk, lets you hold on to his arm, or he wraps his arm around your waist.

Way more touchy and flirty in private. Bruno is smooth and knows excabtly where to provoke you or what to tell you to make you blush.

He puts his hand under your chin or on your cheek if you were to look away from him. You can see his proud, little smirk on his face.

The best cook in the gang, male wife material. His fish dishes are the best you'll ever try in your entire life.

Speaking of that, he'd love to go fishing with you. It reminds him of the time he spent with his father and sees it as a way to continue his family traditions. After all, you are his future wife/husband.

He has the kindest look on his face while explaining to you how to fish and it makes me want to explode.

He loves to massage your shoulders, for some reason. Maybe because it helps you relax, but it just feels very intimate to him.

He rubs your back and kisses you on the forehead whenever he hugs you. His embrace is warm and you wish you never had to let go.

Gives you flowers or any sort of gifts on the most random occasions. Don't worry, buddy, you didn't forget and important date, he's just a sweetheart and wanted to give you a present to make you smile.

Also, since you're dating him, you'll now have to take care of five children, aka the gang. I'm sorry, but you did this to yourself the moment you became his partner.

Don't worry, Abbacchio will help you... Perhaps.

On a more serious note, Bruno would love to have a family with you in the future. This man is MADE to raise children, adopted or not, anything is fine for him.

He thinks you'd be a great parent, but of course, if you don't want to be, he'll never force it on you :)

[corriganatheart]

if he was MINE final/ João Félix x reader x Kylian Mbappé

Synopsis: Your best friend just got out of a toxic relationship and wants to date you.

Pairings: João Felix x fem!reader x Mbappé

Genre: Love triangle

Breaking News: Breaking news: Kylian Mbappé and Y/N officially call it quits after only a few weeks of dating. Many fans were suspicious of their relationship and suspected they were only short-term. Mbappé is now only focusing on his career and has no interest in starting a new relationship, whereas Y/N has reconciled her friendship with João Félix, and many fans think that might be the reason for the breakup.

1 months and 5 days later

“You good, bro?” Neymar asked, causing his teammate to shut his phone immediately. Even though Neymar pretended he didn’t see the screen, he did. Mbappé was staring at the picture of you wearing his uniform months ago, and even though it was unhealthy, he always found himself reaching for you when he needed motivation.

“Look, I’m not one to get into people’s business, but you don’t deserve this,” Neymar says as he squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “She made her choice, and it’s time to make yours.” Mbappé buried his face in his hands and groaned. “I’ll be fine, thanks.”

It has been over a month since you left him on the balcony without answers. He was disappointed, of course, but more disappointed in you than anything. You could’ve had your chance of freedom from João, but instead, you went back to the same place. "Ayo! it's time!" Hakimi barges in and shouts. Mbappé softly smiles and follows his teammates out of the locker room. Neymar and Hakimi glance at one another before patting their friend on the back.

The Golden Boy: You up for a late night walk?

Y/N: ...... dude its midnight. Why are you still up?

The Golden Boy: can't sleep, I keep thinking about u. 😌

Y/N: well arent you a smooth talker?

The Golden Boy: I’m on my way to ur place.

Y/N: don’t you have an early interview tmr?

The Golden Boy: IDC I want to see you for a bit🥺

Y/N: FINE!

After hearing a beep outside, you grab your jacket and rush down from your apartment. You and João had reconciled your friendship almost immediately after you flew back from France. He apologized and expressed how much he appreciated you. And since he was your best friend of several years, you couldn’t just ignore him forever, so you forgive him. You didn’t expect anything different from him besides friendship, but João has made it obvious that he wanted to further your relationship. And as promised, he has not been in contact with Magui and has been doing fine. But lately, everyone has been on your case for dumping Mbappé to be friends with João again. All his fans have criticized you and have made up numerous rumors, but you were ok with taking the heat because you got him involved in shit he shouldn’t have been in. If things were any different, you would’ve continued your friendship with Mbappé, but that would only complicate things. You guys were bound to be short-term, and the time has expired.

“Took you long enough,” João sarcastically says as soon as you get into his car. “I thought we were going on a walk?” You asked. João playfully rolls his eyes, “and be chased by creeps? Noway.” You chuckled and put on your seatbelt as he drove off. It has become customary for João to spend time with you after practice or after a long day of interviews. He has been trying to prove that he can make time for you and that you guys could be more than just friends. If this were before the scandal, you would’ve said yes within a heartbeat, but this was too early, and you aren’t sure if this was a good scenario. For all people know, you’re a villain for breaking Kylian Mbappé’s heart, and you’re sure people suspect that you’re the reason João and Magui broke up too. It was too early to jump into a new relationship, especially one you aren’t sure about.

“How was work today?” You asked. João shrugs, obviously not wanting to talk about the fact that he was asked about you during one of his interviews. Everyone was dying to know the gossip, but he didn’t want to put you in an awkward position. “Did you get to do anything fun?” You asked. João pretends to think, and then he grins, “yeah, actually, Kai was having a hungover during his interview, so that was interesting to watch.” You laughed and can only imagine the team dying from laughter because of Kai. “What about you?” He asked. “Did you do anything fun at home?” Your smile fades, and you look out of the window. You switched your job electronically after the news that you and Mbappé were over. It turns out, people can get through you in many ways, including harassing you at work and via emails.

“You know I’ll do anything to help you, right?” João asked while placing his hands on yours while the other steered the wheel. “Yes, and I’m thankful for that,” you mumbled. João smiles and pulls up to an empty parking lot of a park with a city and river view. “Remember the time when we used to play in the river like it was a pool? We were drowning ourselves in people’s shit,” he said while laughing. You groan, not wanting to remember that part of your childhood. “That’s so grosssss!” João turns his body, so he can face you as you do the same and lay the side of your head on the leather seat. “I like this,” he whispers. “Just us two with no one against us.” You smile and nod your head.

“I miss us,” you said. “We used to be drama free, but now look at us.” João places his hands on yours and rubs his thumb on your knuckles as he closes his eyes. “Close your eyes. I want to tell you something,” he mumbles. You do as he says and closes your eyes. “This is how I picture our future. You and me living in a big house in a field with gardens and flowers. We would have two boys while you’re pregnant with a girl. I would teach the boys how to play soccer as you watch us from a swing, with a book in your hand. By then, Portugal would at least win 1 World Cup, and I might be close to retirement. Our family would forever grow, and we would have two more kids until we decided that was enough. There would be no drama, just you, me, and our kids. Forever.”

You smile, liking the image popping into your head, but as you imagine your husband, your heart stops. The image of Mbappé smiling at you on the balcony pops up, completely erasing João from the picture. You immediately open your eyes and stare at João, who still has his eyes closed and smiling sweetly. “Wouldn’t that be perfect, Y/N?” He asked. You didn’t respond because you were lost for words. João is definitely your dream boy, but your heart was confusing you by remembering how Mbappé made you feel. You’ve known him briefly, but he was so sweet and everything you wanted a boyfriend to be. But he was too good for you and deserved someone that knows their feelings, and you couldn’t give him that.

“Has Hakimi contacted you?” João asked while tucking your hair behind your ears, and once again, you remembered how Mbappé tucked your hair. “I played his best friend. There’s no way he could forgive me,” you said sadly. João looks at you guiltily before he kisses your forehead. “He’ll come around, don’t worry.” You smile and nod, liking the way João is giving you attention. "Still, I can't imagine how awkward it is for him. He was basically the one that set us up. You know Hakimi has been my friend for a long time too, and his wife is a dear friend of mine also. They both love Mbappe and me, and I feel guilty doing this to him. If anything, Mbappe deserves better than me because he was such a sweetheart and gentleman. I do feel really bad for bringing him into this mess and-" you stop talking after realizing how uncomfortable this must be for João. He seems to also hate the idea of you feeling guilty or any sort of feelings for Mbappe. His ultimate goal is to have you by his side forever, but it was difficult because you won't let go of the two weeks' worth of fling. "Do you still like him?" João asked while staring at you intensely. You didn't answer immediately, so he was uncomfortable shifting in his seat and looking ahead of him. "I have been with you since we were a child Y/N. He's been with you for weeks. Think about it before you do anything risky."

News: PSG loses 3-0 to Bayern, even though they have top players in the team. Fans also noticed that PSG captain Kylian Mbappé was off during the game and wasn't thinking straight. Mbappé, who had proven many times that he could score several goals during the game, seemed unmotivated and showed a lack of spirit. This might also come with the fact that a month ago, he and his ex-girlfriend Y/N L/N called it quit and were under the heat for several weeks. Many fans hope the team gets it together and wins their next game against Chelsea.

Hakimi: Fix him.

Y/N: huh?

Hakimi: I said fix him.

Y/N: u are going to have to be more specific than that.

Hakimi: Kylian. He hasn't been the same since you deliberately dump him like trash.

Y/N: We were never together, so how can I dump him like trash?

Hakimi: Why did I ever think you were smart?

Y/N: 🖕🏼

Hakimi: just talk to him pls. He hasn’t been the same since y’all left ur fake relationship. I think you broke his pride and heart.

Y/N: wow u actually have a heart.

Hakimi: u ass my heart is more pure than urs for sure

Y/N: fine I’ll talk to him. But don’t expect anything else.

Hakimi: got it😏

“If we play like how we played last week, we’re fucked. So let’s get it together,” Hakimi says, mainly staring at Mbappé. He was a bit nervous for his friend because you’re in the crowd, and the opponent was Chelsea. They’ve been preparing daily to ensure they win the match, and Mbappé especially wanted to take the win. But right now, he is a bit concerned because his friend is too quiet. “We win and move on to the next match. Opponents are opponents,” Messi said casually, not understanding the love triangle between you, João, and Mbappé. “And control your emotions. We don’t need any of us to get a red,” Neymar warns while looking at Mbappé. “Speak for yourself, asshole,” Hakimi growls, causing Neymar to laugh. “Hey! I’ll score before you even know!”

“Fuck!” Neymar groans as he stares at the red card in his face. The referee decided he had had enough of the constant argument between Mason Mount and Neymar, so they both were given a red. “Not even one goal,” Hakimi shakes his head as the Brazilian player walks past him. He then looks over at Mbappé, who was awkwardly looking around the stadium, noticing the way people were whispering and taking videos of him. Mbappé had spotted you when they lined up, and for some obvious reasons, he was happy that you weren’t sporting João Félix’s shirt. He was also impressed that you felt confident enough to show yourself in public instead of hiding in the VIP lounge. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Sergio Ramos whispers in Mbappé's ears, causing the captain to smirk. “Sexy as hell. She needs to know that.” Sergio Ramos laughs and pats Mbappé on the back, “Kylian, you need to get that girl. Just tell her how you feel. You never know.”

Your heart races from the intense game displayed in front of you. Both teams did not want to give up, and it was one goal after another. Kylian Mbappé had scored a hat trick already, whereas João Félix scored two goals. You swear this game gets as many views as the World Cup because everyone wanted to watch the drama. A couple of PSG fans had already tried to get a reaction out of you but but you wore a sun glasses and stay very stern. Hakimi’s wife also tried not to show any type of reaction, but the other players wives and girlfriends were very invested.

“Are you going to talk to him after the game?” Hiba asked while staring at your emotionless face. “Hakimi requested I do, but we’ll see how the game goes,” you shrugged. Hiba gives you a wary look before she turns her focus back to the game. You’re sure she’s judging you; everyone that knows the whole story is judging you. To choose a guy that repeatedly disrespected himself is absurd, but no one knows how it feels. You can’t just abandon a long term friendship for a brief fake romance….not without some reassurance.

João glares at the other team as they hug one another and do their celebration dance. He did not miss the smirk that some PSG players threw at him. Kai and Mason go up to him, both swinging their arms around his shoulders, comforting their teammates. “We lost by one. One fucking goal,” Kai murmurs. João clenches his jaw as he sees Mbappé throws a glance at you, and what makes things worse is you’re looking at him too. “If I lose, I will look like a fool again. I’m going to make sure she’s mine by tonight.”

The Golden Boy: Where are you we need to talk?

Y/N: I’m with Hiba and her kids. We are waiting on Hakimi.

The Golden Boy: it’s important. I need to see u now.

Y/N: What is it? I promised Hakimi I would spend time with them….

The Golden Boy: I’ll come to u.

You look around the VIP lounge, wondering if João knew you’re supposed to have a conversation with Mbappé. He was your best friend, but you don’t owe him an explanation. You left things unanswered with Mbappé, and you’ll regret it one day if you don’t speak your mind.

“Hey, you good?” Hakimi asked when he saw how nervous you were. You just shrugged because you weren’t sure yourself. He was leading you to the private room where Mbappé is. Apparently, Mbappé is supposed to fly out to another country for work, and he’ll be busy for a while, so this was your only chance. “You know you’re supposed to follow what your gut tells you, right?” Hakimi asked when he stopped in front of a secluded area. “Yes, Achraf, thank you,” you said and hugged him. He returns the hug, whispering that everything will be ok.

Your phone rings as soon as you enter the room. Mbappé was already seated, his duffel bag next to him as he scrolled through his phone. He glanced at your phone and the back to your face. “Félix?” He says, already knowing who was trying to take you away. “Yeah,” you mumbled. Mbappé waits for you to pick up the phone, but to his surprise, you turn it off.

You chew on your lower lips as you wait for him to do something, anything, to get rid of the tension. He wasn’t making things easier as he stared at you with an emotionless eye. Your eyes wander to the little bar on the right side of the room, filled and untouched. As you take in your surrounding, Mbappé stands up and make his way toward you. You gulped, stepping a couple of steps back, and in no time, your back hit the wall, and Mbappé was standing a couple of inches from you. He was a lot taller than you and more prominent, and you aren’t sure if you were turned on by the way he was hatefully looking at you. “Say something,” you whispered, wanting to eliminate the strange tension. Mbappé continues to stare you down, his fingertips tracing your curves. “I should hate you. I should ruin you and never feel sorry. I should make you beg for my attention, for my touch, but I missed you too much,” he said, his French accent stronger than usual. “And I’m going to fucking regret doing this, but just remember you were the one that came to me,” he growls, and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours.

It took you nearly a minute to realize that Mbappé was kissing you, and it wasn’t an innocent kiss; it was a passionate kiss. Your heart started beating fast, but your body was reacting to him, and you were fully aware that your arms looped around his neck, bringing him closer. “I should’ve just done this, so you didn’t have to leave me,” he groans. You moan in return, and Mbappé takes that as a cue to kiss your neck. “tu me tue,” he whispers as he kisses your neck, and you don’t have the energy to ask what he is saying. “Kylian,” you whisper when you realize this is getting slightly out of hand. “I know, bébé, I know…” he groans and lays his head on your shoulder, trying to control himself.

After calming down, the both of you sat down, and you glanced at his bag. “I don’t have much time. I got a flight to catch,” he says. You softly smile and look into his eyes; they are still the same. “Hakimi said you are going to be busy for the next couple of months,” you said. Mbappé nodded, smiling lazily as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears. “Yeah. A lot of offers and interviews and a lot of traveling.” You nod and wait for him to continue, but he waits for you to speak. You sighed, ready to talk about the situation. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, and he smiled. “It’s ok.” You shake your head, “no, it’s not. I acted selfishly and left you with no answer, no closure. Even though we were pretending, we were still friends. I shouldn’t have ditched you like that. Gosh, I felt so bad; Kylian and I have regretted it ever since.” Mbappé glances at an empty wall before he looks back at you, wondering what he should say. “Is that what you see us? Friends?” He asked. You shyly look away and shake your head. “I like you. I concluded after seeing you today and realizing how much I missed you. But I still have unsolved problems that I need to work out.”

Mbappé smiles, his eyes holding hope and a future. He likes you, and you want to know when that all started, but that was a different story. Maybe one day, he’ll share it with you. “Is three months enough?” He asked, and you realize he means that’s how long it’ll take for him to settle back to a regular schedule finally. “Will you still have the same feeling?” You asked because three months is more extended than people think. “I should be the one asking that,” he says, causing you to stare down at your hands. You weren’t going to make promises you can’t make because João is still around. Mbappé can see your unwary eyes, and he tilts your chin so you can look at him. “How about I text you in three months, maybe five days and 2 hours? You still own me the rest of the movie night” He jokes, and you chuckle. “That sounds very specific,” you said, causing him to laugh. “What can I say? I’m very persistent,” he winks.

After talking, Mbappé had to leave to catch his flight, and although he secretly suggested you go with him, you knew you couldn’t run away from your problems. João also needed answers, and you were finally ready to give them to him. “Where have you been?” João asked as soon as you walked into the apartment. He was frustrated with you and annoyed that you turned off your phone. “I was catching up with friends,” you mumbled and placed your bag on the kitchen counter. You look at the dining table that has candles and food laid out. João rented an apartment for you to stay and he had to choose the most expensive one to impress you. “Who are the friends?” He glared at you while asking. You narrow your eyes, annoyed by the way his tone sounded. “That’s none of your business,” you spat, causing him to clench his jaws. He then looks at your neck, and his eyes shift from anger to disgust. “Who the fuck give you a hickey?” He demanded as he moved closer to you. Your eyes widen, and you touch your neck. João grabbed hold of your arm and stared down at the hickey. “You fucked someone” He accused without hesitation. This causes you to frustratedly pull your arms away, “what is wrong with you?” You asked. João ignores your question and walks to the dining table. He then swings his hands across the table, causing plates, vases, flowers, and everything to shatter on the floor. “I’m losing you! Why am I losing you!” He yells. This causes you to step backward, nearly tripping on your way. “You said you were in love with me, Y/N! What happened now? Why do I keep losing!”

You stand there, surprised, annoyed, confused, and angry at the sight before you. João is emotionally not stable right now, and you know there is much more than what he is saying. “João you…what are you saying?” You asked while moving closer to his sulking form. He was now on the ground, his hands bleeding as he cried. “First Magui and now you. I keep losing the people I love to others.” Your heart breaks for him as you rush towards his side and pull him into a hug, ignoring the sting on your knees due to the glass pieces. “You’re going to be fine,” you whispered, soothing him. “I can’t fucking lose you, too,” he mumbles. “Gosh, I loved her so much.” And for the first time, your heart didn’t shatter at the mention of João loving someone else; you’re just here as his best friend, comforting him through the pain. João was still moving on, and you would be the key, but now you realize he was still in pain, still insecure. And you were here as a best friend, not someone with a crush on him. “Y/N, please stay by my side forever. I can’t lose you too.” You smiled because you finally knew what needed to be done, and even though it would break your heart, it had to be done.

1 month later

Breaking News: Portugal and Chelsea player João Félix is spotted on a date with his on-and-off girlfriend, Magui Corceiro. This happens only a month after he and his former best friend Y/N L/N unfollow one another, and him confirming that they’re no longer friends, and it’s a mutual decision. Y/N, on the other hand, decided to go private on her social media and has been staying quiet. Many fans are disappointed in Felix’s decision to return to Magui, but many think this has to happen so Y/N can finally leave the friendship. As for Y/N’s former fling, Kylian Mbappé, many fans hope there is a reconciliation because they still follow one another.

3 months, 5 days, and 2 hours later

Kylian: Hey bébé, wanna finish up that movie? ✈️🇫🇷

Y/N: ……..pick me up ❤️

The End

@akiraquote @swifty1981-blog @forevernightmaree @kanejsuppremacy @ricsaigaslec @cialovessirlewis @ariagonzalezsstuff @marlenelyra @starzalign @e3te1a @ssolzs @mariavettel @kettlechips3 @escapism-writer @sexyburgers69 @kacyyz @iloveenglishmen @sora-777-romanoff @kakuchosbff @reinys24 @revenaye @juliannaelaine @christianpulisic10

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 32

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Reader has to make a tough decision - stay in Paris or move to Detroit with Em.

Tags : ANGST - Comfort - Fluff

MARSHALL’S POV

After dinner with her Dad went terribly wrong, Y/N did not sleep the whole night. Marshall knew it because he couldn’t close an eye himself, being too busy trying to get her to move to Detroit with him instead of staying in France. He felt her tossing and turning in bed and even heard her crying. He tried cuddling with her but she seemed to want to be left alone. It broke his heart a little, making him feel powerless, but he gave her the space she needed. So instead, he tried to think of things he could tell her to convince her to get on the plane with him. The initial plan was for her to join him a week after he got back, but after that shitshow of a night, there was no way he was letting her move back with her asshole of a father. If the man was manipulative enough to emotionally blackmail her, who was to say he wouldn’t succeed ? Especially when Y/N was in such a vulnerable state. No offense to her, but she was already incredibly sensitive, even when everything was going well, not to mention that she wasn’t exactly the most assertive person in the world. Almost the contrary, actually. He loved her, but sometimes he worried about her people-pleasing tendency. Ever since they had met, she had been one to go with the flow, always trying to make everyone around her comfortable and happy, prioritizing everyone’s needs but her own. Her easy-going, kind and generous nature were partly why he fell for her in the first place, as she seemed to be the polar opposite to him and to a lot of women he had dated in the past, but it was only ok to an extent. It was of little consequence when it came to picking a movie to watch or what to eat for dinner, but when it was about major life decisions, it was different. 

The whole situation also prompted him to check his own feelings and emotions. If he was honest, he wasn’t completely selfless. God knew he could be the most selfish person, sometimes, especially when he was in a relationship. Obviously, he wanted her to move in with him because he knew it would make him happy. The perspective of waking up next to her in the morning, coming home to her smile after long days at the studio and being able to spend as much time with her as possible was incredibly exciting. Plus, he didn’t believe in long-distance relationships, especially for him. With his work, his schedule could get pretty hectic and they could be apart for months at a time and there was no way he could do that. Six months without her had nearly killed him. So, in more ways than one, he would benefit in convincing her to move back to Detroit. But it wasn’t only about him : it was about her. He wanted nothing but to make her happy. She had told him how depressed she’s been ever since she had moved back with her father, in Paris. He knew everything about the days she’d spent crying, not getting out of their small apartment, not seeing anyone for weeks because she had left everything and everyone she knew and loved in Michigan. She deserved so much more than this, and he wanted nothing but to give her the life she was worthy of. If she moved in with him, she would live in a nice house, be close to her best friends, and he would make sure to fill her days with bliss. Everything she would wish for, he would make sure to provide her with - he had been a disappointment to a ton of women in the past but for her, he would try to be the best version of himself because she deserved it and he didn’t want to lose her. However, he knew her well enough to know that these promises would not be sufficient. She was too scared to lose her father and didn’t actually believe that she was worthy of her boyfriend trying to give her a good life anyway… Also, there was another issue : worst comes to worst, his status as her boyfriend would come to bite him in the ass. It might seem as he was purposefully trying to estrange her from her only remaining relative. Not that he expected her to throw that in his face, but life had thrown him enough curveballs for him to prepare for the worst case scenario. Plus, the decision would make so much more sense if she came to it on her own. But then again, it was unlikely, even though the benefits were endless : closeness to her friends, better job opportunities in her field, living with the love of her life (her words, not his), not to mention being thousands of miles away from her bastard father… If only there was someone that could convince her and that had no real stake in this… That’s when it hit him : there was someone. Talia. He had always liked Jamal’s girlfriend, in spite of her (or maybe because of it). He owed her a lot : she was the one who brought Y/N into his life and she even took care of him when he was processing the breakup, force-feeding him and calling him out on his lack of self-care. And once again, she might be the one saving the day. Jamal had been right to put a ring on it : she was extraordinary (not that he would ever say that to her face, mind you, she was already insufferable as it was). He quickly sent her a text. 

To Talia : Need a favor. Can you call Y/N and check on her ? Don’t tell her I asked you. 

It was pretty late at night so he wasn’t too sure whether or not she would get the message right away, with the time difference and everything. However, a few minutes later, he felt his phone buzzing. 

From Talia : Why ? What’s up ? What did you do ? 

To Talia : Just call her in the morning.  Please. It’s REALLY important. I will owe you BIG TIME. Please. 

From Talia : Is she ok ? Aren’t you with her ? 

To Talia : Yes she’s next to me but something went wrong with her dad. 

He crossed his fingers and hoped Talia would manage to get through to Y/N. When he turned to her, her back was still turned to him but it seemed like she had fallen asleep. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and tried to get some rest.. 

Y/N’s POV

The night after the dinner, you didn’t get much sleep. Every time you would close your eyes, you started to relive the whole scene : your Dad belittling you every chance he could get, the argument, him slapping you and Marshall punching him. What a disaster it had been. When your father had asked - no, demanded - that you introduce Marshall to him, you had been a little stressed out. You knew how hard he could be, but you had brushed it off, thinking that it couldn’t possibly be that bad. After all, when he had met Simon, things had turned out to be pretty good - not perfect, but good enough. And even though you knew he wouldn’t be overjoyed once he actually knew who Marshall was, his job, family situation and his age, you thought it would be ok. Obviously, you had been proven wrong. To be fair, it had often been like this : your father was protective of you and, even though you were an adult, every time the two of you  got together, he made you feel like a little girl and acted like he knew what was good for you and you didn’t. You tended to blame it on the fact that he had had a hard life and was really protective of you, you being his only child, a daughter and him having raised you on his own after becoming a widower when he was in his late twenties. You were a Daddy’s girl through and through : even though he could be tough, he was the most important man in your life, the one who had raised you, taught you, supported your plan of studying in America… So when he told you that if you made the decision to move back to Detroit and be with Marshall, you wouldn’t be his daughter anymore, you were crushed. He was your only family and, for years until you moved out, he was your only point of reference. How could you possibly lose him ? The thought was haunting you. You wanted to be with Marshall more than anything in the world and you had no doubt that he would make good on his promise to make you happy, but now that there was so much at stake, that you could actually lose your father, you did not feel ready to make that choice. To make matters worse, you feel a bit pressured by Marshall. You saw how freaked out he was when you told him you couldn’t move back to Detroit. It was understandable, of course, but he could be so manichaean, sometimes. You could see where he was coming from, but judging by how he put things, you should pack your things right away and move back to Detroit without looking back, without a care for what you were leaving behind, without a care for your father. Did you really want to be this kind of ungrateful child ? Wasn’t it necessary, sometimes, to make sacrifices for the ones we love ? Or, to put things more truthfully, the ones we are supposed to love ? If you were being completely honest, you weren’t too sure about your relationship with your Dad. Sure, you owed him everything and looked up to him, to an extent. You also felt for him, because you knew he’d had a really shitty life. But you’d be lying if you said the two of you were actually close and shared a bond. The people in Detroit felt more like family to you. They were the people you wanted to experience life with, but you didn’t want to cut ties with your Dad. It felt like you wanted to have your cake and eat it too. All these thoughts were going through your mind at once and you couldn’t find rest. Marshall tried to cuddle with you, and even though you thought it was sweet of him to worry, you didn’t really feel like having him all over you. You were feeling numb and lost. And exhausted by all of the emotions you’d been through. 

A few hours later, you opened your eyes and were almost startled. You absolutely did not remember falling asleep. Marshall was sitting in bed, next to you, scribbling in his notebook. When he noticed you were awake, he flashed a smile and immediately put his pen down. 

Hey beautiful, he said softly. 

Morning, you said with a small yawn. 

Did you sleep well ? He asked. 

Not really, you replied earnestly. 

He nodded sympathetically and pulled you in his arms, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. You were grumpy, sad and exhausted, but you had to admit it felt good. He had always been such a comforting presence. He was gently stroking your hair, holding you as your head was pressed against his chest. You were almost tempted to fall back asleep, his contact and heartbeat soothing you. He seemed to understand it and laid down before putting the cover on top of the two of you. 

You can sleep, my love, he whispered. 

Can I be asleep forever ? You asked sheepishly. 

Don’t say that, Y/N, he said in a sad voice. 

You shrugged and burrowed your face in his neck. He was holding you tight, one hand slipping under your top to stroke the skin on your lower back. You did the same and slipped a hand under his tee-shirt to place it on his chest. The contact made him smile. Your skin against his, nestled under the covers, you felt safe and you couldn’t help but wish that you’d never have to get out of this bed. As long as you were in the hotel room, you could ignore reality and the outside world, and maybe pretend like everything was ok. 

Marshall ? You whispered. 

Yes baby ? 

You know I love you, right ? You asked nervously. 

I know, he said. And I hope you know I love you too. I love you so much, Y/N. 

He cupped your face and traced your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you softly. You laid there, in comfortable silence and you started to close your eyes, trying to relax and focus on the good part : you were lucky enough to have an amazing and supportive boyfriend who looked out for you and took care of you. He really was your safe place. Regardless of where you were, you felt at home when you were by his side. All you needed to feel good was him, his touch, his scent. You had never, ever been so in love with anyone and the perspective of him leaving for Michigan and you staying in Paris was breaking your heart. You dozed off in his arms for a minute before being woken up by your phone buzzing. You let out a small groan and buried your face in Marshall’s chest. 

You should answer, baby, he said softly. 

Mmmh. No, you said. No phone. Cuddles. 

Come on, it might be important, he said. You can’t spend the day wallowing. 

I don’t care, you shrugged. And I can wallow all day. And I will. 

Just pick up the phone, Y/N, he said firmly. 

You sighed and, even though you really wanted to comment on the irony, you didn’t. Usually, it was the other way around : he was the one advocating for a no phone policy whenever you were together and you usually had to force him to answer calls. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t take any calls, save for his daughters. You glanced at the phone and saw Talia’s name on the screen. Marshall kissed your forehead and left the room as you picked up. 

You had a long, much-needed conversation with your best friend. She couldn’t have called at a better time. You told her everything about what happened with your father and the dilemma you were now facing. She lent a sympathetic ear and let you vent as much as you needed to, about your Dad but also about Marshall. You were a little mad at him for reacting so violently, even though you understood where he was coming from and that he was only looking out for you - as he always was. When you asked her what she thought you should do, she seemed in agreement with Marshall, with a softer way to put things. She basically told you to prioritize your projects and your wellbeing and to believe in yourself and your decisions.  However, she also encouraged you to patch things up with your Dad and try to talk to him. After all, he was your father. After you hung up the phone, you started getting dressed. Talia had done a good job hyping you up and you knew it was a “now or never” situation : if you didn’t muster the courage now, you would probably be tempted to weasel your way out of it. Once you were ready, you joined Marshall in the living room.

I’m going to my Dad’s, you said. I need to sort things out with him. 

Are you sure ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. Do you want me to come with you ? 

I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, you said. I think it’ll make the talking easier if the man who punched him last night isn’t in the room… 

Right, he groaned. I’ll ask one of the security guys to escort you. 

No need, you said. I’ll go on my own and take the metro. It’s a short trip anyway. 

That wasn’t a question, he said. 

I didn’t ask either, you pointed out sternly. He is my father, and I’m dealing with him on my own terms, Marshall. 

He looked at you intently, slightly pursing his lips. His blue eyes were staring into yours and you held his gaze for a moment, intent on showing him that you were going to stand your ground. He ended up sighing, making you promise that you’d call him if anything went wrong. The whole trip to your Dad’s apartment was stressful and, the closer you got to the place, the more tempted to duck you were. It was in moments like these that you wished you could get a drink, just a small one. Courage and bravery had never really been your forte. When you got there, he was cold and distant and, as you could have expected it, he did not plan on apologizing. You told him you had decided to go through with your move to Michigan and that, even though he might not approve of Marshall, you were in love with him and positive that you would get better professional opportunities in the US. You also stated that you were sorry for the way dinner went down last night and hoped that you would be able to stay in touch. 

I warned you last night, he simply said. The minute you step on that plane, you can forget about me. 

Dad, I love you but I need to do this, you pleaded. And I need you to believe in me. As my Dad. 

You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m going to support my daughter throwing her life away, he simply said. You have to make a choice : it is either him or me, your father. 

I’m sorry, Dad, you whispered on the verge of tears. But I have to do this. 

Talia was right : you needed to stand up for yourself, no matter how hard it was. You went to your bedroom and started packing a small suitcase. You were supposed to have more time to prepare, but seeing how the situation turned out, it was clearly impossible. You took the bare minimum : the clothes that meant the most to you, your childhood plushy toy, a photo album, your computer, Marshall’s disc player and headphones. You wished you could have taken all of your books with you, or at least arranged to get them sent to you in Michigan, but it was clear that your father wasn’t going to be of any help, and you had no time, since Marshall was flying back the next night. When you were done packing, right before leaving, you tried your chance with your Dad one last time. 

I really don’t want to leave on bad terms with you, you said. 

You better hope that man provides for you, he coldly stated. Don’t think about calling me when he’s replaced you with another potiche and you need money to fly back. 

He said that without so much as looking at you. You were heartbroken, and a bit angry, too. You had always tried to make him proud and you wished he would support your decision, believe in you and root for you to be happy. You weren’t asking for his blessing regarding your relationship with Marshall, only for him to wish you well while you tried to live your own life. Granted, you didn’t know anything about raising children and, knowing Marshall’s stance, you never would, but you didn’t understand how a parent could possibly do that to their child. You mumbled “Goodbye, Dad, I love you”, but he didn’t answer so you left, leaving your key inside of the apartment. You wouldn’t need it anymore after all. When you exited the building, reality hit you : you were in the streets, with your tiny suitcase and no family anymore. It was the hardest thing you ever had to do, harder even than breaking up with Marshall in the first place. You couldn’t help but burst into tears on the sidewalk. In a fictional world, a nice old lady would have asked if you were ok, you would have cried on her shoulder and she would have fixed everything with a magic wand, revealing that she was actually your fairy godmother. But it was reality and you were in Paris : the only people who walked past you sighed and shoved you more or less accidentally, without so much as a look for you. You decided to walk back to the hotel, to clear your mind. It occurred to you that it was the last time you would call this city your home. You decided to head to your favorite café one last time, and have hot chocolate. You sat at a terrace and watched the busy streets, full of tourists and parisians. After, you took a small diversion and walked along the Seine, taking in the city for the last time. When you got back to the hotel, it was nighttime and it occurred to you that you might have been gone longer than expected. When you got back to your suite, you were greeted by an angry boyfriend. 

Do you know what time it is ?! He practically screamed at you. 

In truth, you had no idea what time it was. You were so sad that it hadn’t even occurred to you to check your phone - or your watch. It was almost as if you’d been on autopilot mode and you weren’t sure how long you had been gone for. 

Sorry, you said. I lost track of time, I guess. 

You guess ?! He yelled. You were gone for almost EIGHT FUCKING HOURS. You weren’t even picking up the phone ! 

I’m here, you said sheepishly. I’m back now. 

You took a good look at him. He had worry all over his face and his hair, however short, looked messy. He walked up to you and, as he got closer, you saw that his eyes were red, as if he had cried. 

Did you cry ? You asked. 

I… I thought you had fucking left me, he said. 

I’m here, you said softly as you took his hand. I didn’t leave. And if I had, I would have taken my suitcase with me, don’t you think ? 

Well I didn’t think that far, he sighed. It’s just…You weren’t picking up the phone, and you were gone for so long, I thought… He had convinced you or whatever. Or worse, that he had hit you. I was about to call the cops, I… 

His emotions seemed all over the place. He engulfed you in a hug and you held each other for what seemed like a long time. You took in his scent and pressed a kiss on his neck, prompting him to tighten his embrace around you. After a minute, he looked at you. 

So… Are you alright ? He finally asked. 

It’s hard, you said. But I stood up for myself. 

You did ?! He asked. Wait, does it mean that you’ll move back ? 

Yes, you said. I packed my suitcase. Is it ok if I fly with you tomorrow night ? 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he kissed you passionately, almost making you lose your balance. His reaction brought a smile to your face for the first time in hours : he was making you feel so loved, so wanted. You could feel him smile into the kiss as he placed a strand of hair behind your shoulder. He was absolutely irresistible. 

Of course it’s ok, he whispered. I’m so proud of you, babygirl. 

Thanks, you whispered back. 

Is it all you have packed ? He asked with a raised eyebrow as he glanced at your suitcase. 

Well, yeah, you said sheepishly. I sort of grabbed what I could. So I have that suitcase and the other one I had for our holiday. That’s not much but it’ll have to do. 

Don’t worry about it, he said before kissing your forehead. Anything you need, we’ll get it, ok ? Whether it’s clothes, shoes, anything… 

I doubt you can replace my books, you shrugged. 

I’ll try my best, he said with a smile. Anything for you, my love. It’s my duty to take care and provide for you, now and I take that with the utmost seriousness. 

What are my duties, then ? You giggled. 

Why, walk in your underwear and blow me twice a day, obviously, he chuckled. 

You pretended to be miffed and started to walk away but he grabbed you and brought you closer to him. His face had gotten softer and he couldn’t refrain from smiling. Seeing how happy the news made him had you melting. When you stared into his big blue eyes and looked at his smile, the decision you had made was obvious : how could you be expected to stay away from this man ? You were still heartbroken, but when you looked at Marshall, you wanted to believe it would be worth it or at least that everything would be fine in the end. You spent the night cuddling and he wouldn’t stop telling you how great it would be to live together. The next day, you packed and finally got in the car to go to the airport. You looked through the car window and stared at the streets of Paris for what you knew would be the last time in a while : the Haussmannian architecture, the Eiffel Tower, the streets… You had only been back for six months but it was bittersweet. It was the place where you had grown up, raised by your father… But now that he wouldn’t acknowledge you anymore, it would never feel the same again. Marshall felt you tense up and gently squeezed your thigh. You were sure of your decision but feeling a bit nervous nonetheless and the feeling remained until the plane took off. You wouldn’t stop looking through the window, looking as you got higher and higher. You had been silent the whole day, keeping to yourself and Marshall was respectful of your need for space and quiet, knowing you needed to regroup. However, after a couple hours of flying, he grabbed your hand and led you to the back of the plane. 

Where are you taking me ? You asked. 

Bedroom, he said with an enigmatic smile. 

You have a bedroom on your plane ? You asked. 

First of all, not my plane, he chuckled. But yeah, I asked for one with a bedroom because we’ll be flying for a while. 

He kissed you and opened the door. It was a small but cozy bedroom with a big bed, a TV, a small desk… Everything one could ask for during a nine hour flight. You saw a bouquet of peonies on the desk, immediately making you smile. Marshall knew how much you liked these small attentions. 

Thank you, you said as you kissed him. They’re gorgeous. You didn’t have to. 

I wanted to, he said. I have something else for you. 

He made you sit on the bed and grabbed a box from the nightstand before kissing you. He gave you the red box he was holding, letting you open it and revealing a gorgeous Love bracelet from Cartier, in rose gold, assorted to the watch he had gifted you with whe you got your PhD. 

I just want you to know that I am in love with you, and I know how much you are giving up to be with me, he said. I can’t tell you it will be worth it because God knows I am not worthy of you, but I’d like for this bracelet to symbolize  the promise I want to make to you. I promise that I will care for you, cater to your needs and give you the life you deserve. I don’t want to be your boyfriend, I want to be your man, best friend and your family, too. So, Y/N, will you be my lady in a completely committed kind of way ? 

Yes, you said as you were overcome with emotion. Of course. 

He smiled and kissed you tenderly before helping you put the bracelet on, using a designated screwdriver. Not only was it a beautiful piece of jewelry, but it also really symbolized commitment, as you would literally be unable to take it off  without his help. You noticed he was wearing a ring similar to your bracelet on the middle finger of his left hand, only in yellow gold. 

You got a matching ring ?! You asked. 

I did, he said with a smile. As a reminder of my commitment to the most beautiful lady I have ever met. 

When did you get it ? How am I only seeing it now ? You didn’t even leave the hotel room while we were in Paris ! 

Don’t underestimate my ability to make things happen without going out, he chuckled. 

I love you, you said. Thank you. It’s too much but it’s amazing. 

Anything for you, princess, he said before kissing you. I take it that you like the bracelet ? 

Of course, you said. It’s beautiful. 

Doesn’t compare to you, he shrugged. 

You kissed him passionately, determined to show him how grateful you were and just how much you loved him. He kissed fervently kissed you back, cupping your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. When you broke the kiss, you took a second to admire the bracelet once again. 

I’m glad you like it, he said with a smile. 

I love it, you corrected. I thik there’s a problem, though… 

Really ? Which one ? 

It is so gorgeous I think it’s an insult to wear anything else, you said with a grin. I should probably take off my clothes… 

You know, if you take off your clothes every time I give you jewelry, you’re going to end up decked in gold, he said with a smirk. 

Oh really ? You asked playfully. Then what happens if I ask you to make me an official member of the mile high club ? 

Let’s find out, he said before kissing you bruisingly. 

Author's Note : Happy "Em is dropping an album this year" day to all of you ❤️. I hope you are all doing well and that you enjoyed this chapter ! Thank you to everyone who comments & drops in the Ask section. I don't have time to reply to all messages but I see and appreciate everyone ❤️. Also, I am definitely missing some of y'all... 👀 (🥝 and 🛐, it's been a while, I hope you're alright - you might have forgotten about me but I haven't).

Love,

Coco ❤️

[freedjustinemywife]

Thunder legion hcs but some of them get weirdly specific bc i think abt them too much

(Part 1??)

- Originally Bickslow and Freed lived together as roommates, Evergreen lived in fairy hills and Laxus had his own penthouse. When Fairy Tail disbanded they began living together while they were in Blue Pegasus as it was just easier, and they never stopped (im running off the hc that theyre all living together for most of these)

- Freed is the cook of the raijin tribe, they used to have a cooking rotor but it slowly became just Freed cooking every night

- Evergreen CAN cook basic meals but hates doing it so just, wont. Back when there was a schedule she asked Freed to do it instead and he usually agreed because he enjoys cooking

- Bickslow also can cook, but likes to experiment quite heavily and will not be convinced to make a normal meal. Got banned from cooking after he served shrimp pasta with ice cream

- Laxus can cook you a damn good grilled cheese, but thats it. Only cooks when people are feeling like grilled cheese

- Bickslow is a painter, not-quite Reedus level but still good, they like to paint from the imagination more than from reference which ends in very interesting (and only mildly disturbing) pieces

- Evergreen likes to garden, its something she started when she was young because her mother told her fairies like to care for nature. Their apartment is filled with various plants that she keeps and cares for, and while she could use magic to help them grow she prefers doing it by hand

- Freed enjoys playing a lot of musical instruments, hes best at violin and has been playing since quite young along with piano, but can also play gutair and bass as of more recently. Also has a collection of books in the apartment, originally all stored in his room before he ran out of space

- They have a schedule of getting up at about 7am at the latest most days, its not heavily enforced day to day but they stick to it on missions, if not getting up even earlier depending on the job

- Off-mission though? Nobody is actually getting up at 7am. Bickslow doesnt have a set time to wake but tends to actually be an early riser, he enjoys the mornings so he usually gets up a bit before 7, occasionally to do some painting or stretch ect

- Freed wakes up at 6am sharp and gets straight out of bed, no yawning or stretching or anything just stands up and walks away

- he is also the one attempting to enforce the 7am rule (sorry king) but bickslow usually joins in if only to annoy people

- Evergreen prefers to sleep in a bit more where possible, usually till half 8 or 9 if she can get away with it, then spends way to long in the bathroom doing her hair, makeup, and picking an outfit

- Laxus normally gets up at 10 and is impossible to wake before that, youd have to kick him awake and hes still grumpy afterwards

- Freed is French (I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL) and comes from a military background, specifically a noble house that specialised in military trading and training in France (i have an entire backstory mapped out for this freak if anyones interested drop me an ask)

- Bickslow grew up in the circus, hes always been naturally flexible but its where he honed that ability as well as learning some acrobatics, however it burned down when he was a teenager and the puppets (“babies”) he keeps around are the result of friends who died in that fire

- Evergreen is Scottish and grew up mostly raised by a single mother, her father was around for a few years but was generally a horrible man, a drinker and abuser who eventually left her mother alone. She also has a brother a few years younger than her who she helped to raise and is still close to

- Freed is the tactician of the thunder legion, comes along with being a leader but hes usually the one coming up with the plans

- Speaking of, hes someone who prefers to have a plan before a fight where possible, particularly as his magic is one where its difficult to construct quickly, especially if he wants a high powered jutsu shiki. So while he can think quickly on his feet hed rather have a plan mapped out

- Evergreen is the one who’s best at thinking quickly, if they end up in a situation where a snap decision needs to be made shes confident enough to make it and order her teammates around without second guessing herself

- They also all understand the importance of teamwork and its the main reason they’re so effective (as seen in the battle of fairy tail) their close bond allows them to work extremely well together, even if they tend to argue sometimes

- When Bickslow dislikes someone they have a habit of showing it on his face, usually by pulling a disgusted expression

- Ever does this too in a more subtle way, usually exchanging a glance with one of the thunder legion if shes not liking what somebodies saying. She WILL be gossiping about it later

- If Freeds not interested in a conversation he just silently walks away when youre not looking, people have gone 10 minutes before noticing hes left before

- Laxus just leaves mid-sentence though, doesn’t even think about it just walks away

- None of them can drive anywhere for various reasons, Laxus obviously gets extremely motion sick so is out for the count right off the bat

- Bickslow was banned due to being deemed “a danger to himself and others” after he got too many speeding tickets and crashed the car into a postbox

- Evergreen literally applies makeup while driving, shes blasting the radio while doing lipstick without looking at the road and its terrifying

- Freed is who people THINK would be the most responsible driver, and while he’ll get you to your destination safely, he also has a bad habit of ignoring the speed limit and accidentally running red lights. Unlike Bickslow however hes somehow managed to avoid getting any tickets

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues, part 2

Welcome to the second part of my insane deep dive into Aziraphale’s world of slightly outdated decor, golden-colored trinkets, and their ostentatiously Greek (especially for a representative of an originally Judeo-Christian mythology) symbolism. As a short recap, the last installment covered six pieces in the northern and central sections of the bookshop plus a plot-important medal previously displayed on one of them, but currently left with the other bibelots on the bookseller’s desk. We’ll start right there, where we previously left off.

While a lot of the bookshop action plays out in the circle between the formerly discussed statues, its office part is especially close to Aziraphale himself. As the titular Guardian of the Eastern Gate, the angel consciously spends most of his time in this small space in the Eastern part of the bookshop, confined to his desk or reading stand. This means that the decorations of this area have more personal significance and are most probably used as daily reminders for him to keep his thoughts and priorities on track as much as provide pleasant distraction from the weary eyes.

The two windowsill figures of the Art Deco dancers from S1 were replaced by a somewhat similar set of twin statues by Ernest Rancoulet called Retour des Bois (Return from the Woods). Depicting a young woman accompanied by a putto, Aphrodite and Eros, frolicking in a dance through the woods and meadows. This bucolic fantasy with Aphrodite makes some sense when we consider how Aziraphale’s personal love story started (and will presumably end) in a garden, but let’s deep deeper into its protagonists. Or protagonist, actually, because what else can be told about Love itself?

Eros as the god of Desire is usually presented in art as a handsome young man, though in some appearances he is a boy full of mischief, ever in the company of his mother. It is usually under the guidance of Aphrodite when he employs his signature bow and arrows to make mortals and immortals alike to fall in love. His role in myths is mostly complementary, as a catalyst for other mythological figures and their stories, with the notable exception being the myth of Eros and Psyche, the story of how he met and fell in love with his wife.

In short, they are the original star-crossed lovers from entirely separate worlds who meet and fall in love by divine happenstance, only to be separated by Psyche’s family. Convinced by her sisters that her husband is, in fact, a vile winged serpent, Psyche breaks his one rule and the attempt to kill the monster leads her to falling in passionate love with him. Eros flees and Psyche wanders the Earth searching for him and succumbing to a series of impossible tasks reminding of those from the Scarborough Fair ballad or the more modern fairytale about Cinderella. She ultimately fails, but is saved by the healed Eros, granted immortality and the status of his equal, after which they can properly marry with a huge wedding banquet, a real feast of the gods.

In the Christian Middle Ages, the union of Eros and Psyche started to symbolize the temptation and fall of the human soul, driven by the sexual curiosity and lust from the Love’s domain, mirroring the original sin and the expulsion from Eden.

Oh, and their Latin names? Cupid and Anima. C+A.

We’ll get back to them in a minute.

According to unnecessary but extensive research, the two mid-century table lamps standing over the desk were most probably produced in France after another unspecified 19th century sculptor like the example above, although this particular putti design can be also found in the so called Hollywood regency style of the same time period. The putto is holding onto a cornucopia, a classical antiquity symbol of plenty, which then continues to the bulb section.

The cornucopia is an easily recognizable symbol of abundance, fertility and, to lesser extant, peace and good fortune. Since the horn is phallic-shaped, but hollow at the same time, it combines intimate imagery of both male and female character at the same time, which further ties into notions of fertility. In its role as a fertility symbol, the cornucopia is also usually associated with Demeter, whose small statue is also standing on the bookshop’s counter. Which seems like a recurring theme.

I saw multiple theories about Aziraphale’s centerpiece, but somehow the truth proved to be much less significant than previously thought. This roman soldier, possibly a centurion, driving his two horses in a highly decorated chariot is made from a marble powder resin composite and takes the most visible place in the Eastern part of the bookshop even though it’s seemingly one of the newest additions to Aziraphale’s collection — its author, Lorenzo Toni, was born in 1938 and became a sculpture master by the 1970s. 

At first glance, the parallel to the Marly Horses seems obvious and we could leave it basically at what was written recently on Crowley and Aziraphale’s dynamics. But here is where instead of commenting on the antique sculpture that seems to be the inspiration behind this piece or the many intricacies of Roman chariot racing I’ll do something completely unhinged — i.e., play my Greek philosophy card.

In the dialogue "Phaedrus ”, Plato presents the allegory of the chariot to explain the tripartite nature of the human soul or — you guessed it — psyche. The charioteer is the man’s Reason, the rational part that loves truth and knowledge, which should rule over the other parts of the soul through the use of logic. One of the horses, the white one, is man’s Spirit, a motivated part which seeks glory, honor, recognition and victory. The second horse, the black one, represents man’s Appetite — an ever so hungry part which desires food, drink, material wealth and physical intimacy.

And the fun part? This triad is established to analyze the madness of love. In a classical Greek context, that is not between a man and a woman, but erastes and eromenos:

The charioteer is filled with warmth and desire as he gazes into the eyes of the one he loves. The good horse is controlled by its sense of shame, but the bad horse, overcome with desire, does everything it can to go up to the boy and suggest to it the pleasures of sex. The bad horse eventually wears out its charioteer and partner, and drags them towards the boy; yet when the charioteer looks into the boy's face, his memory is carried back to the sight of the forms of beauty and self-control he had with the gods, and pulls back violently on the reins. As this occurs over and over, the bad horse eventually becomes obedient and finally dies of fright when seeing the boy's face, allowing the lover's soul to follow the boy in reverence and awe. The lover now pursues the boy. As he gets closer to his quarry, and the love is reciprocated, the opportunity for sexual contact again presents itself. If the lover and beloved surpass this desire they have won the "true Olympic Contests"; it is the perfect combination of human self-control and divine madness, and after death, their souls return to heaven.

And such a perfect combination of the motifs already introduced to us by the two Eros statues and the Head of the Victorious Athlete.

Aziraphale might be a titular Companion to Owls (or, to be precise, the companion to one particular Nite Owl), but he had also made sure to have at least one owl keeping him company. And of course, the owl of Athena (who was interestingly both a bird and a snake goddess) is an absolutely conclusion here as the universal symbol of wisdom and knowledge in the Western culture, but it can’t be that easy, right?

In the Bible, you'll find that owls often symbolize something unclean and forbidden, as well as desolation, loneliness, and destruction. This symbolic significance is pointed out in Leviticus 11:16-17 and Deuteronomy 14:11-17 where owls are mentioned among the birds not to be eaten. Owls were considered unclean most likely because they are predatory creatures who eat raw flesh with the blood still in it, and that was an even bigger food safety concern for the biblical nomads than to us today.

Owls are also among the wild predators that have long dwelled in the desert lands and abandoned ruins of Egypt and the Holy Land. Both Isaiah and Zephaniah speak of owls nesting in ruined wastelands to paint symbolic images of barrenness, emptiness, and utter desolation. In Psalm 102:3–6, the owl symbolizes the loneliness of the psalmist’s tortured heart:

For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers. My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. In my distress I groan aloud and am reduced to skin and bones. I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins. I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. All day long my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside. My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass. But you, Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.

It’s a devastating, but still beautiful piece that deals with the feeling of utter rejection, the ultimate bad breakup of the relationship between a human and their God. And this… simply didn’t happen between God and Aziraphale, not even during his Job job. The angel had always considered Her love and ineffability as a given, even when the whole Heavenly Host was against him during the Non-Apocalypse. His allegiance stayed with God, not necessarily Her angels. Which brings us yet again to the motion of Crowley as the owl.

The angel and the demon are the companions to each other's loneliness, but Aziraphale’s needs seem significantly bigger than their Arrangement that he even considered a wooden substitute protectively hovering over him 24/7. He seems to be the one who is the loneliest and most rejected.

Oh, and if you think that putting a small bronze statue of a putto with a bronze putto-shaped candleholder right behind it (visible on the filing cabinet in the bottom right corner) is already a stretch, let me show you what’s on the other side of that wall.

Just like before the bookshop fire, the famous sink in the small backroom is adorned with a perfectly kitschy white plaster sculpture of The Two Cherubs, a small part of a larger painting by Raphael (the painter, not the Archangel) titled Sistine Madonna. In the painting the Madonna, holding Christ Child and flanked by Saint Sixtus and Saint Barbara, stands on clouds before dozens of obscured putti, while two distinctive winged putti rest on their elbows beneath her. with bombastic side eyes and clearly unspoken, but very controversial thoughts about the whole scene and their role in it.

With an attitude like that, there’s no wonder that the putti have inspired some legends. According to one, the original cherubs were children of one of his models they would come in to watch. Struck by their posture, he added them to the painting exactly as he saw them. Another story says that Raphael was inspired by two street urchins looking wistfully into the window of a baker's shop.

The Germans implicitly tied this painting into a legend of their own, "Raphael's Dream." Arising in the last decades of the 18th century, the legend — which made its way into a number of stories and even a play — presents Raphael as receiving a heavenly vision that enabled him to present his divine Madonna. It is claimed the painting has stirred many viewers, and that at the sight of the canvas some were transfixed to a state of religious ecstasy akin to Stendhal Syndrome (including one of Freud's patients).

Their big, seemingly cherubic companion doesn’t seem to have a specific provenance, but what’s left of his limbs might suggest that it could be an infant Jesus as well as another putto. But honestly who knows at this point.

On the other side of the same room, right at the door leading to the big backroom, there are two lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers, a bronze sculpture depicting a courting couple on the verge of a physical embrace, holding garlands of roses and hiding under some old vines. Which aligns perfectly with the beloved romcom trope of a rain shelter leading to sudden love realizations, as well as Crowley choosing this part of the bookshop to have a word with his angel in private and then offering his advice on anything related to human love. No wonder that the angel looked at him like that.

This statue carries with it more than one allegorical interpretation, intentional or not. Arguably the most obvious one is the myth of Eros and Psyche, one we already covered in this post. But similarly to his earlier sculpture, Eros also serves here as an allegory for nature and the return to the natural state itself. Like Adam in Eden, he's unclothed and symbolically crowned as a ruler of his domain. Psyche, enamored with his confidence, is about to take her own leap of faith as her fabric restraints fall away. One could say that she's tempted to follow him into nature, deep into the garden of love.

And with that exact thought I will leave you today, dear reader. Through this analysis we learnt many things, among them two significant facts about Aziraphale: firstly, he’s an utter and incorrigible romantic, and secondly, a hoarder. Forget Crowley’s souvenirs — the amount of this angel’s statues is something else. And it isn’t even his hyperfixation!

[riddles-n-games]

A few months ago, I had an anon request for Averyjameson headcanons about them spending time at True North for the holidays so here we are.

They arrive earlier than everyone else so they have a few days to themselves.

Jameson continues Avery's skiing lessons, teaching her a few tricks and some riskier ones when no bodyguards are around. Avery notices that he likes holding her waist a lot when he's teaching her a maneuver, sometimes longer than needed but she pretends she doesn't and secretly likes it when he does.

One day, they sneak out out of the lodge for an early morning game of Drop. Surprisingly, for her first time, Avery wins and manages to come back with barely a few scrapes compared to a certain someone. Jameson is all too happy, even if he's lost, but spends the rest of the day in bed or out in the hot tub with Avery tending to his wounds and giving him a kiss to the cheek.

When they're out on the trails, Jamie will sometimes sneak behind a tree, tug Avery along with him and have a quick make out sesh.

Before they come back in, both their faces are flushed red from the cold but Avery gets especially flushed, Jameson likes to pepper kisses along her cheeks and finish with a peck on her bright red nose. He calls her his Red-Nosed Reindear (cue eyerolling from his girlfriend).

They love to spend their evenings in front of the hearth wearing matching pjs and watching cheesy Hallmark movies. Jameson is actually a big sucker for them; it's his trash comfort.

Jameson makes hot chocolate and it's pretty amazing. It's his favorite holiday drink, as basic as it is. Avery doesn't judge him one bit for it but she prefers eggnog a little more.

Although they use the hot tub together, Avery has reverted to one piece bathing suits, she still isn't that comfortable in bikinis unless she has a pair of swim shorts on. Jameson is completely miffed by this as he really wants to see her in one again and even went so far as to sneak a red pair in her suitcase when she wasn't looking. She still hadn't put it on and he thinks maybe she hadn't found it (she has and knows that she didn't pack it but knows who did).

Throughout the holidays, he puts up a bunch of mistletoe and tries to catch her under it but ends up having to remove it because turns out, Libby is allergic.

For Christmas, Avery sets up a scavenger hunt for him to complete in order to find his present from her. It proves to be a bit difficult since they spend so much time together but when he's out on a solo ski, she takes a chance to hide another clue.

Jameson is ecstatic and pulls Avery along while he goes hunting, she merrily laughing at his antics. With every clue he finds, her smile gets bigger and bigger.

His gift from her is a card, the keys to the Chiron and tickets to the 24 Hours of Le Mans race in France for the following year. She also secured a personal day with the Aston Martin F1 team for him to participate with in training.

Her gift from him is a locket and bracelet set and a month of pottery classes since she's been wanting to actually try something new but keeps forgetting and because she's been very busy with work. He also got her a signed book series she'd been eyeing.

For New Year's, he surprises her with a visit from Toby.

At midnight, when they're about to drink spirits, she gifts him with a bottle of Jameson, laughing. He simply rolls his eyes.

They also do something similar to the Countdown Party in TFG, except, after midnight. For the first hour, they celebrate the New Year but after, they're a flurry doing all the most craziest things around the lodge; snowboarding at 1:00, drop challenge into the hot tub at 2:00, karaoke battle at 3:00, snowball fight in swimsuits at 4:00, reindeer sleighride at 5:00, etc.

Both of them get sick the following week and Nash is playing nurse because he was the only sensible one to not participate in Hour 4.

I hope you had fun reading. Stay tuned for a Christmas party fanfic with our favorite duo and fake dating Averyjameson au featuring a hot tub during the winter break story.

[purple-scrunchie]

Heathers Headcanons that Live Rent-Free in my Brain

(Some of these are new, some have been rotting in my notes app since January lol also LONGPOST WARNING up ahead.)

Veronica:

Was also a wolf kid (iykyk), wore those dog ear headbands to school from the middle of 3rd to the beginning of 5th grade

Has a pet corn snake named Cornelius. She's had him since she was 12 and loves him dearly

Can't even be trusted with a toaster in the kitchen, can and will find a way to set something on fire

Her favorite movie series is Indiana Jones. She loves the thril of the action scenes and the concept of carefree adventuring

Fucking unstoppable at just dance. She wins by a landslide every time

Had one of those giant picture encyclopedias as a kid

Despite spending so much time journaling and studying people's handwriting, hers is still a mesy disaster (this annoys Chandler to no end)

Likes to doodle in her journal too

has been journaling almost every day since she was 8. She keeps all of her old finished journals in a locked box under her bed

Loves making friendship bracelets for everybody she appreciates

Was absolutely a band kid. She played trumpet but quit sophomore year because she couldn’t stand Kurt and Ram anymore (they were just there to get some elective credits in)

Heather Chandler:

Hates everyone except her favorite three people (Duke, Mac, and Ronnie) And sometimes even them

Gets fucking livid when people touch her stuff without asking (this includes Veronica)

Especially if you touch her hair/skincare stuff (which is one of those 989,752,300 step process ones)

If she doesn’t get her beauty sleep, she’s even more of a megabitch than usual

Super protective of her friends and loyal to a fault. Once you're in her inner circle, there's no escape

Speaks french fluently

Most of the time she spends with her parents is on the whole-summer trips to France they drag her on. She despises these with a burning passion

Learned how to paint in France, and she's gotten pretty good at it over the years

Has gorgeous, looping cursive handwriting and insists on writing everything in red ballpoint pen. (Her teachers hate this)

Almost always has really vivid lucid dreams. She writes them down in a dream log and they’re her main artistic inspiration

Secretly loves Romance novels. Will read them and giggle like an excited 12-year-old when she's alone

Heather McNamara:

Was super clumsy before she started cheer. It’s definitely not as bad as before, but it’s still there. She’ll still trip over her own feet sometimes

Lactose intolerant, but her favorite drink is milk

Loves to click her pens in class

Goes through chewing gum at frightening speeds (think a pack or more a day)

Is really close to her dad

Whenever her dad goes on a business trip, he brings her a new hair ribbon. She keeps them all in a drawer in her nightstand.

Was the biggest horse girl as a kid

Will still happily talk about horses for hours

Loves astrology even more. Her dad cuts out the horoscope section of the daily paper for her and she keeps them filed away by date and season

Loves to read her friends their horoscopes

Definitely has a million constellation/planet charts all over her walls

If it doesn't have mustard on it, she won't eat it

Carries around a bottle of spicy mustard for this exact reason

Heather Duke:

Literally like 5'0 (152.5 cm)

Will not be caught dead without her heels on

Has two younger siblings, Hunter (12) and Hannah (also 12, they’re twins)

Has a black cat named Gatsby

Gatsby loves to curl up on her neck when she reads, and she’ll absentmindedly scratch behind his ears

Her parents forced her to play the piano from like 1st grade onwards. She has the skills of a concert pianist but hates the instrument with a burning passion

Her car is a 1980 Jeep CJ5

Secretly really likes cars. Will talk to McNamara about cars while McNamara reads her horoscope

Loves to fix her friends' cars

DESPISES condiments. She believes that if you can't eat it plain, it's not worth eating. (the exception to this is hotsauce lol)

Has a bunch of cute stationary and study materials (y'know, all the glittery gel pens and color-coded sticky notes) but uses them for the dumbest things

JD:

5’10 and still growing

Was really into dinosaurs when he was younger. He still has a collection of little plastic ones in his room that he sometimes (though he’d never admit it) gets out and plays with

Cooking shows are his guilty pleasure. He fucking loves being in the kitchen, it’s almost as safe to him as a 7/11

He cooks as a form of self-expression

Loves to bake too, will make things for his friends

Tried to make Chandler an apology cake one time (which did NOT end well for either of them)

One of his most prized possessions is the blue and black friendship bracelet Veronica made for him when they met. He wears the damn thing everywhere and it’s getting beat up

Loves to take walks alone in the dark or the rain. He thinks it’s nice and peaceful

Constantly losing pens. Was it the trenchcoat's fault? Probably. Will he get out of the trenchcoat? Absolutely not.

Hope you found some you enjoy lol, PLEASE feel free to add on/tell me your own/send requests for more!

[adarkrainbow]

Hello there. First of all thank you for all the analysis and in depth look into fairy tales.

I stumbled upon a take that was utterly surprising to me about how fairy tales validate women through submissive beauty while the men are portrayed as active and violent and how fairy tales are tools to reinforce gender roles and patriarchy.

And I wonder how did we end up here? I seem to remember you talking about how a lot of fairy tales authors were women, but even in the Grimm brothers fairy tales the women are active, it's not only the men who go through trials.

Anyway I was wondering if you had any thoughts on this?

A most interesting, complex and yet simple question!

Do not be surprised by this take: it has been THE dominating take on fairytales until very recently. It was the big 20th century idea about fairytales - and in fact, it was one of the ideas heralded and massively shared by Jack Zipes in his famous book. This is also partially thanks to him that most Americans share this exact same view. Now we know, thanks to today's research, that this is not as true as people like to think and that this only applies to some fairytales - but the idea that fairytales can actually be subversive, can actually challenge an established society's codes, structure or hierarchy, is in truth fairly recent - or rather has only been accepted fairly recently.

A part of this is definitively Disney. There is no denying that the "Disney fairytale" marked forever popular culture's view of fairytales AND that as a result it inclined a lot of people to look at traditional fairytales under a certain angle. Remember - to make a Disney princess an active character, with the likes or their Rapunzel or Tiana, was seen during the movies' releases as a MASSIVE breakthrough for Disney.

That being said, to well answer this, I think a look at the French literary fairytales can be interesting. (Especially since... it is much more of my domain than the Grimm fairytales for example Xp)

Now Jack Zipes expressed this very theory by talking of Charles Perrault fairytales. In his book he clearly said that, through his stories, Perrault taught girls to be passive damsels waiting to be saved ; and boys to be active heroes. The typical "prince saving the damsel in distress ; knight rescuing the princess in the tower". And on a first, superficial, quick glance... Zipes is right - and many, MANY people read Perrault's fairytales as such.

Indeed, female protagonists of Perrault share a distinct passiveness and earn their happy ending through patience, pleasing people and looking good. Cinderella endures abuse without talking back, only has to look pretty for a prince thanks to an outside interference, and her marriage is what saves her - before she even forgives her wicked stepsisters! Sleeping Beauty spends half of her story sleeping before being saved by the arrival of a prince ; and then the second half she is the helpess victim of the ogress and only is helped by either the butler or the prince. The wife of Bluebeard cannot save herself, it is her brothers that save the day, while in Diamond and Toads the good girl is rewarded for just being nice and helping a poor woman, and it is again through a wedding she gains happiness. Many people also like to invoke the semi-fairytale Griselidis which is... a whole another topic to go into.

Meanwhile the male protagonists are "active", industrious heroes and vanquishers of evil. Puss in Boots is a trickster who hunts animals, actively runs around, and devours an ogre. Little Thumbling also puts together all sorts of plans, actively changes the crowns and nightcaps, steals away the ogre's boots, and once again runs around... The brothers of Bluebeard's protagonists are the big heroes that come in the end to murder the persecutor.

So far, it all seems right... And somewhat, yes, it is true. Because of the context, because of the society, culture and time these stories were written into. In 17th century upper-class France, women were only valuable if they were pretty, if they didn't cause trouble, if they could be good wives or good mothers ; men on the contrary were expected to be sportsmen, warriors, active members of their community or of the government... But as usual with Perrault, nothing is as simple as it is, since there is joke and satire hidden in his texts that many fail to see, and when we look a bit closer at all this, we see hidden behind the apparent dichotomy the traces of a more nuanced take.

Yes, Puss in Boots is an active male character... But the marquis de Carabas is just as passive as another Cinderella or Donkeyskin, as he literaly does NOTHING but look good, obey the cat and follow everybody around. "Puss in Boots" is Cinderella told through the eyes of the supernatural helper - the talking cat is the fairy godmother, who is the one that brings beautiful clothes and meeting with the royals and the seeds of a romance to his passive, useless master. In fact, the "morals" of both stories are eerily similar: Perrault jokes at the end of Cinderella that anything is possible as long as you have a powerful or well-placed godparent ; and Puss in Boots moral is also about how "If you can find the way, you can trick the system, and become a prince when you shouldn't AT ALL". Both stories aren't in the end about someone being rewarded for being pretty or enduring suffering - but simply about having enough hidden resources and trickery to use the very flaws of the system used upon you.

Again, let us take Cinderella. She endures her suffering, according to people, she does nothing for herself, the fairy godmother does everything, and her salvation comes from a prince marrying her... She is pointed out to be so naive she chats with her stepsisters as if everything was normal when she is at the ball. She proves to be the ultimate goody-two-shoes when she forgives her persecutors at the end... And yet, what does the moral point out? That openly forgiving your enemies is the best way to put them in your pocket... because as such they'll be indebted to you, and you forced them into depending on your kindness. The idea of a sly and more cunning Cinderella is also highlighted by the ambiguity of when Cinderella loses her shoe. Perrault writes it so that it is unclear if she loses the shoe by accident... or if she deliberatly drops it. Same cunning with Donkeyskin - she does have on her own the idea of dropping a ring into the cake for the prince, ensuring her marriage with him...

So while the female protagonists of Perrault are definitively NOT active, it does not mean they are dumb or just pretty faces or that they are just rewarded for being "nice". They are intelligent, they know how to go around, there is a certain celebration of the "feminine cunning" if you will. Diamonds and Toads' moral isn't about actually being nice ; it is about learning when to be polite and when to do flattery when needed. Perrault's fairytales truly are about glorifying inventivity, intelligence and tricks. And the "passive character only good at being beautiful and married" does not exclusively apply to women. The marquis de Carabas is a good example, but what about the prince of Sleeping Beauty? All he does is literally... come in. Arrive. And that's it. How does he save Sleeping Beauty from her sleep? He just enters the castle, and suddenly she wakes up, not even a kiss. How does he save his wife from the ogress? He comes in and asks what's going, and everything is solved immediately. The actual heroic force of the tale is the butler, who is the one that saves the day - but again, not by using power, but by using tricks, deceiving the ogress that he cannot possibly fight (ogres embodying brutality and violence). In fact you have no monster-killer or dragon-slayers in Perrault's fairytales - the closest of a monster killer is Puss in Boots, but only because he tricks the ogre into turning into a mouse. Little Thumbling does not defeat the ogre by strength or violence - again it is all tricks and deception... and theft.

Because this is the other side of the "active male character". Yes, male heroes in Perrault's tale are more active than their female counterpart. But are they moral or "deserving" because of it? Certainly not. Puss in Boots lies to a king, threatens poor peasants so they say lies, usurps the castle of its legitimate lord and deceives the king into marrying the princess well under her rank. Similarly, Little Thumbling tricks an ogre into committing an infanticide, steals his boots from him (but so far it is all excused because the victims are the worst kind of ogres) - and then he scams a grieving mother into giving away all her fortune, before becoming a personal messenger for adulterers... And the narrator himself points out the immorality of those actions. Once again, it isn't because the male characters are more active that they are supposed to be praised for it... Perrault's tales are ultimately, deep down, hidden under a fake veneer of politeness and romance and galant things, trickster tales.

But to get that, you need to read carefully the stories and place them back into their proper context, and many people failed to do it in the 19th century, wrote a lot of misinformed texts that influence the people of the 20th century, and Disney was yet another relay of this misconception, and from generation to generation it all piled up... Claiming that Perrault was SUBVERSIVE in the second half of the 20th century was something seen as a genius and fresh take - when in fact it is just... just a truth people had failed to see.

However we can't reduce everything to Perrault. I mean the 19th and 20th centuries did reduce everything to Perrault, but let's see at the mother of the French fairytale, madame d'Aulnoy. Each of the female authors of fairytales had their own take and twist on gender norms and gender stereotypes, but given the scope and influence of madame d'Aulnoy (still felt in the 19th century), we will focus on her.

Madame d'Aulnoy's fairytales ARE the ones from which the idea that a fairytale is a "knight saving a damsel in a tower from a dragon" comes from. And, again, from a quick glance, madame d'Aulnoy seems to perfectly embody the dichotomy of "A heroine has to be patient and pretty and saved and pleasant and passive ; a hero has to be an active, vigorous, strong savior and monster-slayer". Graceful and Percinet? (Also known as Graciosa and Percinet). It is Psyche's myth told all over again. The Yellow Dwarf? A king keeps searching for his missing fiancee trapped away, and confronts all sorts of obstacles in-between. The Benevolent Frog? A prince kills the dragon that wants to eat his future wife, who literaly does nothing throughout the tale. The Doe in the Woods? The princess spends her time locked away, turned into an animal or fleeing, while the prince is a warrior and hunter who actively keeps going around.

And yet, once again, this just a watered-down, simplified, 19th century-glasses on vision of madame d'Aulnoy's fairytales. She had a wild, WILD life that led her to understand being an obedient good girl and passive meant NOTHING (in fact I do plan on making a series of posts about the craziness of these female French fairytale authors) - she conspired to have her abusive husband killed, she had to flee the country to escape authorities, she knew more than anyone that women had to be active to save their skin in life. And all throughout her stories, she kept having strong, active, female characters that broke the "passive mold", and on the contrary men that failed to be the "active ideal". All of it wrapped into the craziness, madness and exhuberant firework of animalistic fairies, enormous giants, multi-headed dragons and other clownish looking wizards, so that it looked less obvious at first glance. The princess of the Yellow Dwarf spends her time attacked by the titular dwarf and locked within his domain waiting for a rescue, but the story begins when she decides on her own to undergo a dangerous and perillous travel to find out what her mother suffers from, while the prince is shown to be quite helpless against the magic of the Fairy of the Desert and needs the magic of the mermaid to escape. In the Benevolent Frog, the prince kills the dragon... But at the very end, after being given all sorts of magical artefacts and an impossible horse, and they do the trick instead of him (similar to the prince's so-called "victory" against Maleficent in Disey's Sleeping Beauty, where it was truly the fairies that did the work) ; meanwhile the princess' father, the king, also proved utterly useless at saving his wife and daughter spending several years just... sitting by the side of a lake ; all the while his wife and daughter had to become amazonian huntresses, and the fairy-frog is shown doing all the behind-the-scenes work of saving everybody, using a lot of resources, and performing hard feats such as going at the top of a long staricase made for giants WITH THE BODY OF A TINY FROG, which is why she spends years doing so.

And many more are the tales breaking the mold! Cunning Cinders? The girl literaly CHOPS OFF an ogress' head with an axe, right after pushing an ogre into the oven - and it was no small feat given the ogre was also a giant. In the Pigeon and the Dove, the first time the giant imprisons the princess, putting her in his bag, she gets out by herself, without anybody's help. The Orange-Tree and the Bee? The princess does all the work - saves the prince, hides him, feeds him, nurse him, takes him away ; while also doing all the heroic and clever feats, tricking the ogres, stealing their magic wand, performing magical transformations. No wonder the final transformation is passive for the prince (the orange-tree) and active for the princess (the bee that stings anybody getting too close to the tree). In fact, the fairytale "La princesse Printanière", (Princess Mayblossom in English), seems to be an explicit and literal deconstruction of the passive-active model: the titular princess acts like a typical "good princess" (following her heart's impulses without thinking about it too much ; giving kindly all her food to her lover on a deserted island), only to be met by the harshest of realities (following an unknown pretty boy around is not good, and her lover is a selfish and brutal jerk). She only can escape the bad situation she created for herself by STABBING HER EVIL LOVER IN THE EYE, and then she is greeted by the positive sight of her fairy godmother in a war attire, beating the crap out of the wicked fairy of the story in a celestial duel. In fact, this tale contains a double message about women being active to change their life, because before her "passive episode" on the Island of Squirrels that gives her all sorts of misery, she is active, oh yes. She forces the random boy she just met to follow him, and she plans a whole escape at night - because, like an active character, she wants to determine her life, she wants to just do as she pleases, she show who's in charge... But this is proven bad because as it turns out acting impulsively and harshly without prudence or thought - taking away the hand of the first pretty boy that passes, fleeing rashly at night on a whim without preparing any substantial thing - only leads to disaster and misery (being stuck on a deserted island with an abusive companion). And this is opposed to the good "activity" in the end, one thought about and that is a just reaction to the situation, or well-equiped for handling its problem - the princess killing her would-be-murderer ; the good fairy getting a chariot, weapons and an armor to destroy the old, wicked, rusty Carabosse.

This all comes very clearly and strongly in d'Aulnoy's fairytales - if Perrault wasn't so much about gender as he was about tricks, cunning and cheating the system with well-placed connections ; madame d'Aulnoy clearly had some ideas of how women should learn to be active queens, great warriors, trained travellers, well-equiped survivors and, if need there is, monster slayers. Is it then a wonder that when the authorities and minds of the 19th century took a good look at fairytales, they decided that madame d'Aulnoy should be erased in favor of Perrault, where the ideal female models are a girl sleeping a thousand year, another girl that gets hit without answering back, a princess that becomes a cleaning-girl and a cook good ; or even a nice girl with big diamonds?

What happened? In the case of French fairytales: this. First all the openly subversive authors were pushed aside and buried in oblivion ; then the more subtle ones had their tales oversimplified or read the wrong way until it entered a mold they were not supposed to fit. Madame d'Aulnoy was forgotten, and people took Perrault's jokes seriously.

[black-ak9]

Asking different questions to people because I'm bored. Day 7.

Yay, our seven-day marathon of questions has come to an end. Thank you for taking the time! I still have some questions left that weren’t sent, so if you don’t mind answering more, let me know!

How do your vampires prefer to spend their money? (Especially from "Hotel Transylvania")

Oh wow seven-day I liked this question dynamic☺️

Most vampire nobility are spenders, as they have resources to spare.

Nobility: They spend it on properties in different states of their country or in other countries for when they travel or are on vacation, jewelry, luxury clothing, new technology, the luxury of having their auction collections, ,Among other things💎🏦🎰

Commoner vampires prefer not to spend so much, and save enough for their children's inheritance or for their own support.🪙👍

The goal is to leave a decent legacy

Fun headcanon fact:

Dracula has an estate in England that he has never visited.And some dungeons scattered between Romania and Türkiye.

Ericka has a mansion she doesn't know she has in Holland, an apartment in the Netherlands and Amsterdam, along with cellars full of books and artifacts from her ancestors.

Marta has two mansions in Hungary and Russia (on her father's side) and an inheritance in a dungeon in the catacombs of France

And Vlad, well... He has many years and many souls at his disposal, as well as contracts with monsters: anything he likes is his.

[manicpixiefelix]

Reader and Oliver in the adopted au meet Felix at Oxford still, maybe

Reader owns their natural it factor so they're more outgoing, having that dazzling magnetism that people cannot resist. They and Ollie are considered a package deal, the L/N heirs recently spotted partying in France with their good friend Nick Young (yes, those Youngs)

Farleigh doesn't know what to think of Ollie

been thinking so much about this and about the Crazy Rich Asians AU intertwining

the first year Oliver lives with your family, your parents don't explain why they're taking him to get his passport photo taken. he doesn't even know what a passport is or why he'd need one. you, sitting next to him in the town car (because oliver becomes restless and agitated and shuts down if your parents take him anywhere without you. he will grow out of it soon, but not quite yet), you tell him it's so you can go visit your bestest friend Nicky. your father makes a face like he's bitten a lemon and your mother raises her voice pointedly to ask the driver how much longer.

all you know is that your grandmother is the one who always insists that both you and oliver are brought to singapore too.

("because your father won't let your mother go alone," she shakes her head with an exasperated noise, but doesn't elaborate when you ask her about it, instead continuing, "and i'm not letting them leave the two of you here by yourselves," she paused, adding, "since i couldn't babysit you, because i'll be in singapore too, i've always loved it there, and loved the Youngs." oliver is nine, with his head in nana's lap as she strokes his hair; you are ten, looking up from your gameboy to give her your attention.)

Nick Young is your bestest friend in the whole wide world for the four-to-six weeks a year you get to see him. you spent several summers as the fourth in games between he and his cousins, more often than not becoming his teammate against them, no longer allowing the obnoxious eddie and alix to gang up on him. astrid had always seemed just a bit too old for the horseplay you all engaged in, but she was never unkind to you. your parents don't spend much time at the Young home, especially not your father, who walks around the grand space with an expression like he was holding back sick, but apparently the master of the house, Nick's father, had given express permission for you all to stay there as long as you liked. this essentially meant you and oliver lived there for several weeks, as did your grandmother, while you'd learn much later on that your parents spent their time arguing at various picturesque locations around singapore.

sometimes your mother would join you, and in those moments she smiles at you and oliver, dotes on you both, sits at the table between her two children as you're all taught how to make dim sims by Nick's family. she laughs, and compliments your attempts, and jokes sweetly like you think a mother probably would. in these moments, you catch nana smiling at her, but it's always tinged with a little sadness.

nick's mother can't bring herself to be in the same room as your mother for more than ten minutes before claiming to feel faint, and retiring to her room for the rest of the day, every time. it doesn't seem to bother your mother too much, who gets on famously with nick's father. she calls him Jamie and he makes her laugh so hard she snorts. you've never heard her do that around anyone else.

("nick's father and your mother were best friends too," your grandmother tells you when both you and nick come to her with questions that your parents pointedly avoid. both of you are eight. oliver is seven and hovering by the door, watching you and nick with wide, blue eyes. you and your current best friend share a confused look, and ask her when; "when they were your age," nana answers, like it should be obvious.)

oliver finds someone new to cling to when he's in singapore. when nick and his cousins get too rough and oliver starts to get overwhelmed, for the first time you're torn. you only get a very brief amount of time to spend with nick, but this is your new little brother and you have to protect him at all costs. except then astrid is at the sliding doors to the villa, scolding the boys for playing too rough with oliver, and he looks at her like she hangs the stars in the sky. oliver, who'd pouted the entire plane ride over and wouldn't say why, tentatively asks you that night if he was allowed to be astrid's bestest friend while you were in singapore.

"because you- you're meant to be my bestest friend, but here you're nicky's bestest friend -" and you realise what he'd been so upset about since he'd gotten the news. you give your blessing, knowing it was a good thing for him to get more comfortable around people who weren't you. astrid is hesitant at first; she was too old for you and her brother's shenanigans, and oliver's even younger, but he's polite and he clearly thinks the world of her, and follows her around like an obedient little duckling, listening patiently to whatever appeared to take her fancy at any given moment. for the first few summers that he does this, she seems rather unsure of what to do with him, ending up treating him kindly and sweetly, but rather like a pet; oliver doesn't complain. as the years and summers go by, the brief age gap seems to matter less and less, and soon you, Nick, Oliver, and Astrid become a tight unit as teenagers, exploring the city together, sharing in the highs and lows of being the social and financial elite.

but as you grow older, nick's mother seems less and less able to look at you. you overhear her speaking to your grandmother about things you will not understand until years later - "your grandchild has their mother's smile" is not spoken like a compliment.

back home, it's the summer after you've turned sixteen, and you will hear your mother and grandmother arguing down the hall from your room.

"you want to force them into the very thing that you fought against at their age- that I fought against on your behalf, by your side, against your father - god rest his soul - when you were their age?" you'd never heard your grandmother shout like that before. still, you crack the door open and peer out. they're at the end of the long corridor, but their voices carry well.

"Wanting to secure a legal partnership and future between our families was never an inherently bad idea," your mother argued back, "just because back then James and I weren't right for each other doesn't change that. Nick and Y/N -" your mother tried.

"I'm not having this argument again," your grandmother sounds so tired, "you're just like your father with those poor children; I can't have this fight again, I just can't."

The next summer, your parents go to Singapore without you or Oliver, and you're given both free reign of the house, or the world if you prefer. It becomes the first of many world tours you take with your brother. Occasionally you stop in and see Nick and Astrid, but both you and Oliver, and the Young siblings, leave the rest of your families at home. None of you talk about why, but you have a feeling you all know.

("we could have been siblings," astrid jokes when you're all at the tail end of your teens and drinking in some bar along the coast of Chile. the other three of you all look at her rather bewildered, "father was telling me he almost brought great shame on the family for not marrying your mum like all our grandparents had been pushing them to do." she laughs like it's an absurd idea, and goes on to say how glad he was that the woman he chose, the woman who became the mother to your two friends across from you, worked so hard to become the matriarch the family needed her to be. you and nick share a long, dubious look. oliver sighs loudly and complains about being hungry, immediately turning the discussion towards food. under the table, he gives your knee a comforting pat.)

also, yes; in their very first meeting, farleigh condescendingly pets Oliver L/N on the knee after being twenty minutes late to their two-person tutoring session, because he didn't think to look the man in the face before touching him so casually, and then only after the damage was done did he realise who was sitting next to him. so now, looking at Oliver, thinking about Oliver, or even seeing you, makes Farleigh feel the entire spectrum of human emotions all at once at full force, and he wants to hide like an actual child. which is to say that he hates oliver l/n for making him feel this way. which way? all of them. any of them. bastard's been in vogue and now he's in farleigh's tutoring sessions acting like a righteous dick half the time.

he hates the man. he's had parasocial crushes on both him and his sibling(you) since he was fifteen that still haven't actually gone away. two things can be true.

[peachybutch]

How Good the RvB Main Cast is at Cooking, Ranked from Best to Worst

1. Donut

Donut gives off the vibe of one of those gay men with a baking channel on YouTube. This man's out here rolling up to the red team monthly dinner club with frenched rack of lamb with a pistachio mint crust and wine accompaniment, then earl grey souffle with creme anglaise for dessert. He spends hours experimenting with new and interesting ingredients. Remy Ratatouille, send-you-back-to-rural-France ass man. Donut's food fucks hard and everyone knows it.

2. Grif

You really think my man Grif loves food as much as he does and doesn't know how to make it? C'mon. He doesn't, like, relish the act of cooking as much as he does having a good plate of food at the end of it. And he's not typically much for sharing. But my guy makes a damn good short rib and bechamel lasagna. Give him the day to let something slow cook, and god damn.

3. Wash

Wash has been living off of MREs for probably his entire adult life, but I feel like he's got a few dishes he can whip out for a date night, or if he's feeling fancy. He knows how to read a recipe, and he has a pretty good idea of what flavors go together to make something good. He probably has a really nice papardelle with vinho verde sauce that he has sitting around in the back of his head for special occasions.

4. Tucker

Okay, Tucker isn't a bad cook by any means, ok? He's great with breakfast food specifically. It's just that he isn't especially fancy about it. He was probably, like, a line cook at Denny's in high school, so all his food tastes like food you would get at Denny's. Which isn't a bad thing! You would just never call Denny's "fine dining". He has his niche, and he does it well, and he never feels even a little bit inclined to do anything different or better.

5. Church (Alpha)

Church isn't much of a foodie right off the bat, but someone's got to pack Caboose's lunch, and he ends up learning how to cook fairly well after that. After a certain point, he figures out how to make things from scratch--mostly things like chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, pancakes.

6. Simmons

I feel like Simmons mostly lives off of shit like green smoothies and homemade granola. Like, hardcore, low carb, vegan, all organic, high protein diet. And, like, it doesn't taste BAD. But it definitely isn't the kind of thing you bring to the red team dinner club. He does make a really nice sunbutter brownie that he has to hide from Grif.

7. Caboose

Caboose has been banned from using any objects in the kitchen that involve a heat source--which isn't HIS fault! How was he supposed to know that you're supposed to take the spoon OUT of the mac and cheese before putting it in the microwave? That's just a recipe for a cold spoon! Anyways, he manages just fine without the microwave, thank you very much. He can make ants on a log like it's nobody's business. Cleaning up afterwards is another matter entirely.

8. Carolina

Carolina is one of the most competent individuals you will ever meet. She could kill you in under a minute, in 30 different ways, and that's just with her bare hands. The fourth time Sarge tries to recruit her into red team is by inviting her to the monthly dinner club. She shows up empty handed, and when Donut very politely asks what she brought, she replies that it's very interesting that they expected the only woman on the team to go all out with cooking. They move on. Carolina spent 5 hours in the kitchen this afternoon trying to figure out how to use the oven. But they don't need to know that.

9. Tex

Now, listen. Tex can't be called a bad cook, precisely, because that would require she cook for herself or others. Which is something she does not do. That's what Church is for, isn't it?

10. Sarge

Sarge refuses to step foot in a kitchen after the fifth shouting match about how flamethrowers are not a universally recognized kitchen appliance.

11. Church (Epsilon)

One time, while blue team is shooting the wind, Caboose asks Epsilon what his favorite breakfast food is. Instead of calling Caboose a dumbass, as per usual, he instead goes into extensive detail about how he eats computer keys like cereal. Caboose tries it. It isn't very good.