#I wish the season wasn't planned to be so short
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syncrovoid-presents · 10 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel thoughts (with a splash of vague theories) (Alastor edition)
Something that is super fascinating about how Alastor's character has been left highly up to interpretation is that, before these next episodes at least, it's not entirely clear what his motives are.
We know he is a skilled manipulator, a master of wording things in his favour to get the deals he wants. We know he's a serial killer that puts the laughter in slaughter, yet still has a variation of a moral code. We know he has ties, likely to lilith (though personally I really hope it ends up that he made a deal before he died for power, which now haunts him in hell).
We know that he partly protects the hotel because it's where he has a new radio broadcaster, but his protection of it could be protection for him, for what demon would mess with a friend (father figure?) of the princess of hell? Even Lucifer can't actually hurt him without hurting Charlie, regardless of how authentic Alastor is towards her.
Is his song purely to manipulate Charlie into feeling safer around him? Is he slowly wearing down her defenses so she may accidentally (or even purposefully) make a deal with him? It's clear from the dialogue and interactions that he's not incorporating himself much into the group, and we still don't know what's up with his radio broadcasting system being up once more.
There's so many ways it can be interpreted, but it's fun to have a character that is both mysterious but also bound to a set of morals he doesn't care to explain. He is the master of his own life, and (likely) sees others as lesser because they're weaker/manipulatable/"stupid". Yet his morals are just present enough that he could find it dishonorable to destroy demons that have, perhaps in his eyes, given up power for a chance at redemption.
There's also other questions around his character too, my biggest one being whether he has 1 power source or two? Many times we see his power/magic manifest as red hues (symbols specifically), similar to how he wears all red. Other times it is green, which may or may not be tied to his "neon" colours. Is it because red and green are complimentary but conflicting? Is it to show that one power is fully his and the other is not? Does the neon represent a lack of truthfulness or him acting outside of his true wishes? Because the only time we've really seen it is when he is saying (somewhat) nice things in very specific situations.
Does Alastor know Vaggie is/was an angel? He didn't like her in the pilot, and its unclear whether their strained dynamic is because Vaggie wants to protect Charlie and it is one sided, or if Alastor knows and is waiting for the perfect moment to use that against her, perhaps for a deal?
Also his only songs so far have been him just taking over someone else's song. How petty and silly of him. Can't wait to see what he has planned next!
Who knows! Either way Hazbin Hotel is a very fun show and I'm so excited for the next episodes!!
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gguk-n · 27 days ago
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Jokes In The Cloud (Carlos Sainz x Comedian!Reader)
No Face Claim. All the pictures are from Pinterest.
CONGRATULATIONS TO CARLOS ON WINNING HIS SECOND GP THIS SEASON!!
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punchlineprincess Vacationing with the people who get on my nerve the most
y/bff/user you forgot to take me😔😔 punchlineprincess y/bff/user sorry bbg, next trip with you alone😘😘 y/cousin/user you annoy us more🙂 y/mum/user not a nice thing to say Y/N punchlineprincess y/mum/user I was joking😅😅 user1 if someone saw her IG they would think she's a model😍😍 user2 God I've seen what you've done for others, when is it my turn🥲🥲 user3 pretty and funny. I want her!!❤️❤️
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{Reader's POV}
The gears in my head my turning, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I still had to refine my script; I was sure I could do it if I have a few hours. "Sweetheart, dinner's ready" my dad called out from the bedroom door. "Dad, I have to leave" I stated. "To where?" my dad asked, walking in. "You know that Netflix special I was gonna film" I began, he nodded along, "well, they want to film it on Monday" I finished. "That's in a day" he stated. "2, since it's in New York" I explained. "Cassidy will send me my tickets, but I think I'll be leaving now" I spoke. "Sorry about ditching the family trip. I know how important it was for you" I mumbled. "It's okay, darling. This is bigger. This will catapult you to fame like you always wanted, I mean I'm already so proud of you but this is still bigger" he explained trying to calm me. "Me and your mum will help you pack, come on" he said and called my mum.
The two of them helped me pack my bags. He explained how my Netflix special would be filmed soon and I would be leaving soon to everyone. All my younger cousins and nieces and nephews were so excited. Cassidy sent me the tickets. I made sure to pack everything while my mum fed me, it was chaos in the best way possible. "I'll be leaving now" I hugged my parents good bye. "Can't wait to watch it" my aunt spoke patting my back. "Mention us" one of my younger cousin's spoke. "I'll try" I laughed. My niece kissed my cheek wishing me good bye. My nephew wasn't ready to let me go yet, my brother had to pull him off me.
I waved good bye as the taxi left the resort, my family waving back as I disappeared. The ride to the airport was short, I was too busy going through my material to notice when I reached the airport. I paid the taxi driver and hauled my luggage to the check-in desk. The person behind it, checked me in and I was headed to immigration. This was the first time I noticed that I was sitting first class. When did my manager have this kind of money to book first class. I'd have to bring it up with her once I had the time.
I got done with all the formality and headed to the waiting area, where I spent my time going through my script and tweaking it ever so often. I downed a RedBull to try to align myself to New York time, so that I can combat the jet lag.
As the speaker's announced the boarding for my flight, I grabbed all my stuff with the plan to finish it up on the plane. The air-host lead me to my seat. I noticed a man sat on the seat next to mine, he looked an awful lot familiar, until it hit me that it was Carlos Sainz; my heart started pounding. I walked up to my seat, put my luggage away and sat down. My hands were shaking by the time I sat down, pulling my laptop out. I started typing away with shaky hands. "Is that a script?" a voice came from beside me. I turned around to find Carlos with his head turned, trying to figure out what's written. "Yeah, I'm a comedian, this is a script for my show" I tried to speak as confidently and calmly as possible. "That's cool. I'm Carlos, Carlos Sainz" he introduced himself. "I'm Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I shook his hand. "I'm a Formula One driver, maybe you'e heard about me" he further elaborated. I know, I've been obsessed with you for years, my poor brother has to listen to me talk about you for hours after every race, analysing the whole race. I have a fan account called carloslover, were the thoughts running through my head. "Yeah, I must've heard about Formula One some where" I said tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Well it's nice to meet you" Carlos said. "It's nice to meet you too" I said with a smile. "I'll let you get back to your work" Carlos said pointing at my laptop.
I spent a couple more minutes working on it before I was disturbed by Carlos, not like I was complaining; "I'm sorry but I'm kind of curious about what the script your working on is about" Carlos spoke slowly. "I'm filming a Netflix special in New York. So, I'm fine tuning my script" I chuckled. "Oh, sorry for disturbing you" Carlos replied sheepishly. Damn, he looked so cute, I caught myself fawning at him. "Ah, it's nothing." I quickly looked away, "I love when people are interested in what I do" I smiled. "Then, I will continue to annoy you a bit" he laughed. "Be my guest" I smiled back.
A few more tweaks and a good hour later, I was able to close the laptop, happy with the script I had at hand. "I'm guessing you're done" Carlos chimed in. "I am" I said stretching a little. "Maybe you could practice a bit with me" Carlos suggested. "I do want to practice my crowd work" I thought out loud.
"So, Carlos are you really a full time driver or a model? I can't really tell" I said. Carlos's face turned red, "Is this how you do crowd work?" he trailed. "I, no, can't let the opportunity to flirt with a man as handsome as you go" I smirked. Carlos's blush only deepened, "So, I'm special" he laughed. "Obviously" I shrugged. "If it's anything, I thought you were a model and not a comedian" he retorted. "I get that a lot. But doesn't work in my profession when people don't think pretty people tell good jokes" I retorted back. "I've never heard any of your jokes, but I'm sure you're funny since Netflix wants you" Carlos said. "Hope so" I said holding up my hands with crossed fingers.
I felt like the time flew by, as Carlos kept me company. Just as the flight was about to land; "Will I see you again?' Carlos asked hopefully. "You could, if I had your number" I remarked. Carlos pulled his phone out and handed it to me. I put my number in and called myself. "I'll see you soon." I winked as I saved Carlos's number. "Can't wait" Carlos replied, smiling at me as we grabbed our luggage to leave.
Cassidy was waiting for me as I exited the airport. "I'm so sorry, I should've checked my emails" she apologised grabbing my bag. "It's fine, let's go. I'm exhausted" I replied grabbing my bag back. We caught an uber back to the hotel. I rehearsed my script with Cassidy for the next few hours, trying not to memorise it so it would sound genuine.
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punchlineprincess Done filming my first special, can't wait for it to air🥹🥹
y/bff/user I'M SO EXCITED🤭🤭 user4 I'll watch it just to see that outfit😍 user5 so pretty😍😍 y/mum/user so proud of my baby💖 y/dad/user my baby's all grown up😭❤️
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punchlineprincess Joked my way into his life🫣🫣
y/bff/user ooohhhh who is this??👀👀 y/dad/user what is this behaviour y/n??? user6 OMG!!! I love this❤️❤️ user7 the best couple ever and idek the guy😅😅 user9 y/n being sporty wasn't in my bingo card🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ user10 the golf date!!!❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 user11 I want to go to an art museum with my lover and imitate art like that😏😏 user12 this is so Carlos coded plus he's in the likes😣😣
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punchlineprincess I may have gone overboard for the premier at home🥲😅
y/bff/user I'M SCREAMING WHILE WATCHING IT🥹🥹 y/mum/user my baby❤️ carlossainz55 so proud of you ❤️Liked by Author user13 what does Carlos mean by that, like he knows her🙂👀 user14 the funniest shit i've watched in a while🤣🤣 user15 loved this so much!!!❤️🤣 user16 finally the real comedian that's getting the recognition she deserves😂😂
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Liked by carlossainz55, y/bff/user and 1278,340 others Tagged carlossainz55
punchlineprincess Sorry I'm not normal about my boyfriend winning his second race this season😭😭
carlossainz55 I think having you there was my lucky charm🍀❤️ punchlineprincess carlossainz55 aww!! but it was your big brain and hard work❤️❤️🥹 y/bff/user aww!! watching both my babies win respectively 😭😭Liked by carlossainz55 and punchlineprincess y/dad/user good job Carlos👍 Liked by carlossainz55 user12 I should've known after those dates🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ user20 seeing her hug his mom when he won was so cute😭😭 user21 the most unlikely couple🥹🥹 user22 I get it Carlos, I get it😍😍 user23 Vamos Carlos!!👍👍 user24 I want a full timeline how everything went down😩 user25 I'm so happy I got to witness this race😭😭 user26 she was so sweet to all the fans and even took pictures with us!!😭🥹
After the race win celebrations on the podium and the team, after the interviews when I finally got him all to myself; "I'm so proud of you baby" I whispered as I pressed a kiss on his lips. "I'm so happy you got to see me win" Carlos mumbled not letting go. "I can't believe instead of watching you on TV I got to watch you in real life" I said pulling away. "I don't know why you lied to me when we met" Carlos laughed. "Well I couldn't tell you I'm @ carloslover on Instagram and Twitter and I've been in love with you since you debuted" I laughed. "I think I wouldn't have paid much attention since you're so pretty" Carlos smiled running his hands down my sides to rest on my waist. "Well I'm a Carlos lover and I am Carlos's lover. It's a win win" I smiled, "You and I both, princessa, you and I both" Carlos captured my lips in another, yet steamy kiss pulling me closer so my body was touching his, "You are all sticky and smell of champagne", I mumbled against his lips trying to pull away but Carlos pulled me closer, "No" he muttered and continued kissing me. He walked back to sit on the couch pulling me down with him, straddling his lap. He pulled me closer, our bodies touching, his hands roaming mine before they found home on my ass. We pulled away slightly breathless but Carlos than started his assault on my neck, sucking on my sweet spot near my collar bone while pushing me down on his lap. I could feel him grow under me. I pushed him away, "Nope" I said firmly. "No?" he asked cocking his head to the right with his big brown puppy eyes, "We're not doing it here. Let's get back to the hotel, maybe after you smell a little less like alcohol, I'll think about it" I said getting up. "Y/N" he whined holding my hands as I stood in front of him. "Not even for today's race winner" he pouted. "No. Baby, this is your work place. I will do anything and everything you want but out of the paddock" I said. "The car?" Carlos perked up. "Carlos, darling, we'll be on the headline tomorrow reading Carlos Sainz Jr knows how to celebrate his win in Mexico with girlfriend in his black Ferrari" I said. "Fine, Let's go back soon. I can't wait" he humphed before going to change out of his race suit. "I love you" I called out. "También te amo" he called back.
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fairytsuk1 · 2 months ago
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four seasons | (s)
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apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!
prompt: meeting at a holiday resort, both with friends or family tagging along
pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader
words: 5.4k
warnings: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, spin the bottle, marijuana mentioned, alcohol, drunk sex, begging
It's everything you thought it'd be and more. The sun shines on you in a bright gleam that warms your skin. Your plans had finally made it out of the group chat! This was going to be the best vacation ever. Your sandals slap against the concrete as you trod to your friends with your luggage.
"Hey! Can you guys believe this? It's so beautiful!"
Ayami beams, her short hair bouncing as she nods eagerly, "I can already feel myself re-energizing! All this nature and ocean—oh, it's going to be wonderful!"
Ryoka's hand slips around her girlfriend's waist with a relaxed smile. "Hell yeah. We should go ahead and check-in."
"Already done! No need to thank me," Natsumi brags as she flings the dark oak door open, "had to do it since you guys were taking your sweet time getting out of the car!"
Your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling. You must've done something heroic in your past life, maybe saving a war-torn city, to have this warm feeling fluttering in your chest. The resort is made better with your friend's banter and complimentary slippers that sink into plush carpet. 
An attendant explains things in a blur, yet your eyes are locked onto the glittering ripples of water that peek through a window. The pool is on the first floor, she says. And don't forget to ____, you ignore. Soon enough, all four of you are dashing to claim a spot on white resin lounge chairs. It feels like a dream when your manicured toes glisten under the hot summer air. It becomes more like a fairy tale when your wandering eyes land on something interesting.
He's hot. Scratch that; he's more than hot! Lecherous eyes start at sopping blonde hair pushed back by muscled biceps and veiny forearms. The way the water rolls down his back is absolutely sinful. Even his abs flex as he cockily smirks, pushing back against his red-headed friend during their game of roughhousing.
Not only is he easy on the eyes, but he looks like he fucks, which is the perfect maraschino cherry on top. You could bite into him, and it'd be sugary sweet as the sticky juice runs red down your jugular. Yeah, you could eat him alive and he'd love it. Confidence thrums through you, and you know your time is now. At the same time, he stands casually in the water, merely observing and completely unaware.
You slip in effortlessly and unnoticed, lurking like a shark behind him as you plan your words before making yourself known.
"Hey," you chirp, hands wading in the water.
You expect him to turn to you with a sly smile; maybe he'd grow close and lean on the pool edge as he asked for your name and whether you were single. Only he didn't do any of that. His eyes scan you like you're a drab beige wall, and then he has the nerve to shrug you off.
"Hey."
It's awkward. It's tense. It's very unexpected.
"What's your–"
"I don't need a drink right now," he dismisses with a casual wave.
It actually stuns you into silence. Your mouth drops open and then closes, and then opens again, "I-I'm not a worker! Do workers wear bikinis where you're from?"
The man sneers at your reaction and finally turns to face you. He's taller, broader, and you wish he wasn't so fine because he was turning out to be such a dick. You stand up straighter, squaring your shoulders to stare frustratedly into his eyes.
"No, but I don't bother paying attention to extras when I'm trying to relax," and lewd eyes dip down to your cleavage, "but maybe I can spare you some time."
"An extra!? Oh, fuck you!"
It comes out harshly, and your bottom lip droops as you stare at him: "I just came by to introduce myself, but never mind. I'm leaving."
"Then introduce yourself, or did I scare ya' off?"
You've never met a man so bold. A man with the audacity to call you an extra and still so obviously commit your curves to memory. Introductions come out in a stutter from you with warm cheeks, "and what's your name, so I can report your behavior with the front desk."
"It's Bakugou," he grunts. "Be my guest."
"I will," you challenge.
"How about I report you for harassment, hah?"
"You insulted me first!"
Bakugou shrugs with a smirk. It irritates you beyond belief to see his smug little face. The sun burns too bright and hot on you two, firing you up and encouraging you to storm out of the pool. Bakugou takes the opportunity to leer at your ass as you crawl out the side, wet swim skirt sticking to your curves and making him tug his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Damn," he grunts as you prissily walk off.
Perhaps he judged you too harshly. But then he thought about it, and you just seemed like a spoiled brat. A pretty one but a brat nonetheless. He didn't take things like that. He reassures himself under his breath, but his thoughts know what he's really thinking about: sliding those wet bikini bottoms off you and spreading your legs. It would be all for him, too. You did approach him first.
You, however, collect your things in a huff. Your move to the other end of the pool may have been petty, but you don't care. Things had to be thought through. Was it worth actually pursuing this sexy asshole guy? As you type a pro-con list into your phone, Ryoka pats your shoulder, "Are you planning on missing the game for your phone?"
The exercise will do you some good. After squeezing your friend's hand and promising to return after you change, you opt to release your frustrations on a good game of volleyball.
After a bit, it's even hotter and you've only gotten sexier. It's important to note as Bakugou stares at you from the sidelines. Sure, you were prissy, but your body was killer, and the snarl escaping you every time you spiked the ball sent wrecking balls of fantasy into his mind. You were a spitfire, and Bakugou tries to swallow the flush when you look at him in an intense adrenaline haze.
A block. A quick run to the side for a spike. Light cheering. This was the sweet escape you needed, giving you just enough space to let out your blood thirst. If you had fangs, then you'd be chomping at everyone's face! You were in the groove. Your eyes pass over him easily. And then you meet again.
Parted, pink lips with beads of sweat on your upper lip. Your hair falls messily, framing your face with sticky strands as your dark eyes pierce Bakugou's. For a minute, neither of you seems to exist in this reality. You both stay in this limbo for a second longer than you should before your head snaps forward to bump an incoming ball. Bakugou’s frozen to the core with genuine butterflies in his stomach. He doesn't even think this has ever happened to him before, or even that it ever would.
A whistle is blown, and you’re cheering with your team. It always felt good to win. It was even better when you knew you had eyes on you.
"Good game, good game! Yeah, you did amazing, Ayami…" You towel off as you relish in the glow of your success. It wasn't all due to you, but you were being a bit of a try-hard.
You don't even notice how Bakugou makes his way through the crowd. How his lips curl into a frown as someone bumps into him, and how he taps your shoulder with a gruff, "Hey."
Your head turns with hair that cracks like a whip. Obviously, you recognize him immediately. You're not happy.
"Hey," you mutter, toweling off and ready to escape. "Nice seeing you."
"Wait a minute," Bakugou's hand curls around your wrist, and you're so irritated to feel heat rush through you at seeing the sinewy muscle move. "Lemme talk to you."
"I gotta get in the shower. So, no."
"You're being stubborn. I'm sorry for earlier," he huffs with eyes that lack the confidence to look straight at you. "Let me buy you a soda or somethin'."
"What makes you think I want a soda from you, an extra?"
He almost wants to shout in your face, but he knows there's no way around that. Bakugou mumbles about not meaning it while kicking at the ground, and your posture stays stiff. It happens so quickly you almost miss it, but you catch a glimpse of a smile on his lips.
"What's so funny?! You're a real jerk, laughing and everything when you insulted me and–"
"You're all defensive at being called an extra. It's cute." 
"I have a name," you nearly stomp your foot in exasperation despite the flush crawling up your skin.
"I forgot. You stuttered it out last time," he provokes calmly with a tilt of his head. Really, he just wants to hear that pretty name on your lips again.
You try to tell yourself that there's no time to think about the compliment that flies and waves in the air like a kite. You introduce yourself calmly, emphasizing the syllables and ensuring he gets it.
Bakugou repeats your name so slowly. So pointedly, velvety tongue and eyes narrowing. You could imagine him whispering it into your neck as strong hips hump to meet yours. Maybe in the morning, with a kiss on the cheek and the taste of coffee on your tongue. He puts so much care into repeating your name that you almost cave when he asks if you want to get smoothies together.
You're a strong, independent woman. That and, well, his pissed-off face was sexy. Your glossy lips smirk at him as you cock your hip, "Sorry, I'm getting drinks with friends. I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"
"...Alright, yeah."
The way you ditch him in the dust leaves him half-chubbed in his shorts. God, you were such a cock tease. If only he could kiss you and show you what you're missing out on by playing cat and mouse. Thick fingers adjust his shorts, and Bakugou pushes his hair back, opting to turn back to his friends indulging in flower necklaces and drunk karaoke.
If you wanted to be the mouse, he had no problem being the cat.
Everything's clear-headed and far too boring and bright. Within time and the coaxing with your friends; you're grinning ear to ear after too many puffs of a joint and sips of cocktails. Things tilt around you, and the music sounds irresistible as you feel the rhythm lend you dance moves. Everything feels like ecstasy as you twirl in circles with your crew. The alcohol was flowing, and you were starting to have that craving for closeness as things ramped up and up.
Natsumi practically topples you over as she blushes into your face. "Come with me. I made some friends."
“Friends? What kinda friends?”
 "Don’t ask, just go. Come on, you have to! They’re cool, you really gotta meet 'em," your friend pleads as you give her a reluctant look.
"Well, okay…"
Natsumi hiccups as she escorts you a few tables over. She giggles about someone being your type, and there's a real worry that the alcohol is clouding her mind, and you’re about to have to reject a loser.
"Hey, Natsumi! I was wondering where you went!"
A yellow-toned boy speaks up, face flushed as he waves a sloppy hand from where he rests on a beachy pull-out. Next to him, Bakugou nurses a rum and coke, eyes red and cast downward towards the ground. They lazily crawl a path up to your eyes, a bit woozy but flickering with recognition.
No fucking way. Of course, he's here, and of course, he looks fantastic! You know your dress looks immaculate. There was no denying that, but Bakugou left your mouth embarrassingly dry. His white button-up was nice, but it was more about what it revealed; tanned skin and the promise of more the further you looked. As you looked down at his body, Bakugou looked up at yours.
As you sit down, you can't help but open your mouth, "What are you doing here?"
"My friends dragged me out, I could be sleeping by now."
You find yourself letting out a small laugh and turning toward him with interest. He really wasn't so bad.
“You sleep early?”
“You don’t?”
Amid it all, Bakugou and you end up squished together as the budding love story of your two friends blossoms. Every time their heated make out spills into limbs crossing over into your bubble, you grunt in frustration, inevitably scooting closer to your frenemy with a slight sway.
"She is so ridiculous," you comment on Natsumi with a slight huff. "So is your friend, by the way."
"Maybe they're made for each other," he snorts.
A beat of silence passes by as you both observe each-other. It was really more like admiring, though.
 "Why're you so standoffish? I said I was sorry, called you pretty, ‘nd you don't wanna give me another chance?"
He grumbles when he says it but looks curious as his teeth sink into his lip for a split second. You almost get lost in the motion as you unconsciously lean closer like a moth to a flame.
"I didn't peg you as someone who begged."
"Sometimes you make mistakes, hm? And I'm not begging, babe, trust me."
The conversation dies, but the tension grows larger. The way his voice dropped made your thighs squeeze together. Blood flowed south as Bakugou traced over your red lips and briefly down to your cleavage–nice, he smirked.
"Well, whatever," you pray the sip of your lychee martini gives you a long enough reprieve to think of how to coyly flirt back. "What are you doing here anyway? Vacationing? Dying of an illness and this is your last hoorah?"
"Just relaxing. What're you doing besides bein' a brat. Spending daddy's money?"
"I paid for this trip myself, actually!"
"I like a smart woman," he says, moving to brush his thumb lightly against your cheek. He pulls away just as fast, and you can smell the breeze of his icy cologne. "I paid for myself, too. Can't rely on anyone or anything!"
You see the mask slip just a second. The calm persona dropped to reveal his boyish grin and messy hair.
"Yeah, you really can't."
It was so terrible that you knew deep down he was cute. You couldn't pretend at all. Now that you're starting to know him, you're falling head first into really liking him. You weren't sure if your girls' trip vacation could withstand a passionate, whirlwind romance.
"Oh my god, you know what would be totally fucking fun right now? What if we played a game? You guys know spin the bottle! C'mon," Natsumi beams excitedly.
"I haven't done that since I was still smoking cigarettes!" Ryoka shakes her head with a laugh.
"But, come on," she gives you all a pleading look. "If we haven't done it in forever, wouldn't it be fun to do it one last time?"
Natsumi's heartfelt yet drunken rambles strike a chord within all of you. You glance at Bakugou, who doesn't reply, only shrugging in acquiescence to the group. To hell with it, you call, raising your drink in the air.
"You know what, let's go for it! You're right, Natsumi."
Bakugou eyes you curiously as you stand to hug your friend with a slight wobble in your step. You had a point. To hell with it!
Moments later, you all were knee-rubbing, stumbling idiots sitting in a circle. The more you admire Bakugou as you sit across from him, the more you're hoping the stars align with the spin of the bottle. The kiss would be innocent. Fun and games. It meant nothing. That's what you told yourself to repent for your future sins.
A bead of sweat glides down the back of your neck as the glass goes round and round. You watch as Natsumi eagerly kisses a flushed Kaminari, who is all too eager to receive it. Ryoka and Ayami are familiar but sweet. Kirishima lands a peck on you, but it's nothing crazy.
You miss the way Bakugou's eyes glitter with disappointment every time the green bottle spun past him mockingly, taunting him deviously with the promise of vodka-tinged kisses. Only then do you both find a line drawn between point A, you, and point B, him.
"Finally," Ryoka slurs out.
Suddenly, you're nervous. You're nervous as you sit up a bit more and scoot closer over the bottle containing the will of fate. He looks calm and relaxed, his eyelids lowered just enough to make him look… wanting. Knees graze the carpet as you inch closer until you both can feel each other's breath.
The music is still bumping. The alcohol is still flowing, yet you're stuck in this standstill with nothing to break you out of your reverie. Other than the kiss that's planted on your lips, Bakugou tastes like rum and mint gum. You wonder if you taste like lychee, or maybe you'll mix into an entirely new flavor that leaves you both with incessant cravings.
You're unsure when or who pulls away first, but it happens. Your butt plops down right as the round of giggles surrounds you. Bakugou smirked as he sat back, crossing his legs and taking a smug swig of his drink. It was unfair that you were left dazed; he was the reason for it all.
You okay? He mouths over the talking that's come instead of the next bottle spin.
Are you? You ask with a smirk, flipping your hair in jest.
Bakugou rolls his eyes, shaking his head with a full-on grin. You feel something fond bloom in your chest. Something that makes the sound of ringing bells when you see that flash of teeth and a glimpse of a slick tongue. Someone suggests dancing, and pairs of legs come into view as they stumble out as a crew, a unit. There are two missing cogs. You both stay sitting and facing each other.
"I thought you said you were okay," he jokes as he scoots closer.
You realize you have a tendency to mimic him, "I am. You're the one who didn't even try to pretend to follow."
"I don't pretend anything, pretty. I do and say what I mean."
There's a beat of silence, and your clit throbs at the tone of his voice.
"You know what I mean?"
His voice is deep, almost mocking, as he croons at you. You're going to fuck. It might be now, on the last day of your resort, but it would happen. Set in stone, if you will.
"I think I do."
"Mhm. Let's go dance, gotta show you what a real dancer looks like."
Bakugou offers a firm hand and pulls you up like you weigh nothing. It makes you feel tiny, and you wonder if the same effect will happen as you sway your hips against his dick.
You find yourself dancing to Nelly, and hearing lulls about being a promiscuous girl. It makes satisfaction thrum in your chest at having success in your findings. Grinding did, indeed, produce the same effect. Bakugou was trying to dominate your form, and you let it happen.
Bit by bit, you find yourself caring less about the group and becoming more preoccupied with Bakugou. You let him buy you drinks, giggling as your hands jokingly interlace before you pull away coyly. He only smirks at you, chasing you wherever you go, as if he didn't want you to forget him in your intoxicated parade.
He tells you to call him Katsuki when you slur his last name out, gripping the white button as you pout tiredly, "I want to go back to my room."
"Since when am I your keeper, huh?"
Katsuki lays a steady hand on the curve of your waist and lets you fall into him.
"Don't be mean, we bonded sooo much. I thought you were this asshole guy, but you're actually kinda funny and sexy."
"I think I knew that last part. Remember when you tried this on me before?"
"Are you dumb enough to still reject me?"
"Nah, not this time," he says, making sure to drink in your gaze as he does.
Thankfully, you'd already had your first kiss. That made it easier for him to lean forward and press his lips against yours. The promise of something more, and you practically purred as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Katsuki's hands skirt down your back, down to your hips, and pull you so close, "You're sexy, too."
A bartender squawks at your behavior, and his voice floats over the music and sticky kisses to yell for you to get a room! The man at your side noses your neck and then juts forward.
"Come to my room," and he's so gruff. Like he knows you want this, "Wanna get you alone and see how feisty you are then."
You tug your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, your friends would be fine; your eyes flit between him and the crowd dancing behind him. Yeah, they'd be alright. Your hand slips into his, and he's quick to tug you next to him by your waist. He makes you unsteady and chuckles, "Let's get goin', then."
Neither of you is composed as you tumble through Katsuki's–clearly luxurious–room onto his plush bed. He's not afraid to lift you with his raw strength and place you right where he wants you. It makes you laugh, tinged with shyness, as his red predatory eyes sweep over you before settling on your face.
It's silent as both eyes hold this deep, wanting gaze. He crawls closer, and you lay back further; he's on top of you with a forearm dipping into the mattress and a veiny hand supporting his weight. Katsuki doesn't touch you as if he's waiting for something. You can't wait anymore, and you're ungracefully yanking him closer till his body weight rests on you, and you can feel his hardness poking at your thigh.
He must have been waiting on you–the bastard! But you can't deny that feeling the rippling strength resting on your body and pressing you into the mattress feels good. You and Katsuki exchange saccharine kisses as your bodies grind together like you're one. He grits his teeth and takes a sharp inhale when your wandering hand brushes against his bulge, "don't, fuck, don't do that."
"Why? Sensitive?"
Katsuki's vermilion eyes meet yours and narrow, "you're such a tease, you know?"
His voice is low and honeyed as he slowly peels your skirt from your thick thighs.
"All I did was ignore you the first time–"
"And then I did the second!"
Seemingly having had enough of your quips, a hush falls over you when his hand swats at your thigh, "Yeah, and you're still under me, begging for my cock. Ironic, right?"
He then snickers when sticky strings stretch from your slick pussy to the cotton underwear.
"She's beggin' too."
In a flash, he's lapping at your folds and groaning at how sweet you taste.
"Oh! Oh my god, w-wait!"
“Nuh-uh, no waiting.”
He's so messy with it. His chiseled nose bumps against your clit with every lap as he mixes spit with your leaking arousal; it's so debauched, and yet you're wailing for more as you try to push his face further between your thighs. Katsuki groans and your eyes meet right when he suckles your clit with his plush, rosy lips.
"Y-Your mouth's so good, ohfuck!"
Katsuki lets out a pleased hum before wrangling your squirming hips under a flexing forearm, "don' move too much. Wanna enjoy this, babe."
His right hand comes up to toy with your soaked hole. His teeth are sharp, and he's downright predatory in how he sinks two fingers into you. They're thicker than yours; a keening whimper escapes you.
"C'mon, tell me how it feels. Since you've been dyin' for it, I want a review, baby."
There's a wet clicking sound as fingers crook against that deliciously torturous spot, leaving stars bursting behind your eyelids.
“Gonna cum! Wanna cum, ‘mygod, ‘tsukiii!”
"Already? Such a needy girl," and he latches his tongue to your puffy clit, massaging it as your pleasure uncoils into a white-hot explosion.
Somewhere in the haze, you can hear Katsuki murmuring, "Good girl, good girl," and leaving sharp kisses on your inner thighs. He chuckles at how you jump, how cute, and sighs into your neck before biting your pulse point.
"Holy fuck," you mumble, hands wringing into his shirt as he peels off his shirt and makes his way up yours.
"You alright? Looked like things were good," and he has the nerve to snicker at you. "It's okay to admit it."
"You're such a cocky bastard. When are you gonna fuck me?"
Katsuki's hands are practically already in his pants as he unbuckles his belt. He shoves his jeans down, and your eyes widen at how big he looks, the fat head leaving a dark patch of pre-cum against his gray boxers. You're coming closer as he tugs off his underwear, leaving him exposed. His cock bobs, smearing on his navel, while a throaty groan escapes his lips once you wrap a soft hand around him. He's so hot and weighty in your hand that you can feel how he practically pulses in your hand; you can't help but want to go in for a little taste…
He's gentle as thick fingers press back on the crown of your head, a tut escaping his lips as he shakes his head, "No way. I'll cum way too fast, wanna give it to you good."
The scratchiness of his voice leaves your thighs pressing together. Katsuki kisses you before motioning for you to settle on your hands and knees.
"Like this?"
You're practically mewling at him! Your back arches so tauntingly, cute butt perked up in the air and swaying back and forth. Katsuki draws close, and your eyelids are fluttering when his fat head bumps against your soaked folds, "ohfuck, stop admiring me already."
"And here I thought you wanted it all nice and sweet," and you're whimpering as the head barely breaches past your pussy. "But, I'll give it to ya' how you like it."
With that, his hands are smoothing over the curve of your back as his heavy balls press against your pussy clit. You're already caving for him, with eyes threatening to roll towards the ceiling as his hips stick to yours. He's so full inside you that you can barely move, barely breathe, only able to leak around him as he grunts, "so fuckin' tight. 'S like you're a virgin."
"Katsukiii. Fuck, pleasepleaseplease move!"
He hums thoughtfully, hips rocking just the slightest inside your gummy walls.
"Ask me again," and he punctures it with a thrust that leaves you breathless.
"Please, wanna feel you fuck me. I-I've been waiting for your annoying ass, I wanna cum so bad…"
The man behind you doesn't seem convinced, though his hips move just a tad faster. " C'mon. I know you can do it. What is it you want again?"
He's pushing you to your breaking point. Katsuki's strong enough that he can press forward and bend you further into that delicious arch, nearly fucking you into the mattress if he would just move!
"Oh god, fuck me. Need to feel you take control, Katsuki, I-I can't! I need you, need you so bad, 'm gonna cry. I jus' wanna feel you breed me, please!?"
"Was that so hard?"
Within seconds, he's hunkering down and fucking you within an inch of your life. Your hands desperately cling to the duvet as if that'll ground you, but he's moving too hard and fast!
"S-So deep, ohshit!"
"Ngh, yeah? You're fucking grippin' me, I love how you sound, how you taste, how you feel–fuuuuck. Let me have it, baby."
You're wailing as you gush around him. The smell of sex is overpowering, and your panting breaths mingle with Katsuki's. You can't help but push back just a bit, the two of you joined together so intimately. His muscles ripple with every rock into your cunt. You wish you could see how debauched he looks–though your ears are privy to the hot groans and curses flying out of him as he slides home over and over and over again.
Katsuki loses himself in your pussy, head tipping back to expose the expanse of his throat as his balls tighten with his orgasm. God, fuck, did you say to breed you? He tries to recover as he watches your sneaky hand desperately rub you till you're trying to run from his thrusts (to which he only tuts and brings you back full force towards him). The slick, papping sounds echo, and you're not even sure what you're saying as you wail for him.
"Oh, 'm gonna cum all over you. Ohfuckfuckfuck, wait! I-I'm gonna, Katsuki!"
"Yeah? Cum all over this dick, let me feel it. Fuck, 'm gonna cum too, gonna fill you up."
Your wrist twists another tight circle, and you're falling apart. Your thighs shake and tight walls squeeze Katsuki, trying to draw him as deep as possible as he hits your g-spot dead on. A cry escapes you, and you know his base is creamy from your orgasm. In the haze, you can tell he's close by how his fingers twitch around your hips; you start mewling weakly for him, "cum inside me. Ohmygod!!”
He's sure he's leaving bruises, and yet he doesn't even care as he shoots rope after rope inside you. God, your pussy sucks him in like it wants every drop; despite the sensitivity, Katsuki can't help but keep moving till you're whining from overstimulation. Pulling out slowly and giving your thigh a playful swat, the two of you practically collapse into the soft sheets.
Katsuki's hand quickly grabs your chin and pulls you to face him. " Are you good?"
With your hair mussed and bruises littering your body, you were more than good. A soft nod, and then you're scooting closer for warmth. Katsuki lets it happen to your joy, a strong arm wrapping around your waist as he hoists you close.
"Good, you gonna run off of me, now?"
"No. Are you?"
"It's my room, you stalker," he teases with a toothy grin. His features are relaxed, and his red eyes are a bit glazed.
He looks wonderful. Beautiful, even.
You review your mental checklist one last time as you pace about your room, door open. How could it have all ended so soon? You'd spent the rest of your days happily fucking, drinking, and soaking in the luxuries of the resort.
Katsuki lingers by the doorway. A flicker of fondness grows into a fire when you turn to see him and smile. When did he get so soft?
"Hey! What's up?"
"What's up? It's your last day, and you're what's upping me."
"Katsukiii," you drag out the syllables and catch the faintest smirk on his lips. "Don't get too sad while I'm gone."
"Please," he scoffs and rolls his eyes, the two of you making eye contact that holds longer than it should.
The two of you shouldn't be so dramatic; you should try to steel yourself. It's not like you've known each other for that long, Katsuki thinks before reaching out and pulling you into a loose hug.
"See ya," he grumbles.
"Hehe, text me! Call me whenever," you mumble into the muscle of his chest.
He smells like the start of a campfire, mixed with a cool cologne that wafts like the breeze of a nearby ocean. You pull away and look into the tides of his eyes, the Red Sea staring back at you, before he gently kisses your lips.
"I'll think about it. For now, I'll walk you out," and he wraps a possessive arm around your waist.
There was no other option; he was walking you out. You squawk at his comment, "That is not an 'I'll think about it' statement!"
"Oh, yeah? Well, lemme think on it."
"Stop it!"
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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 2 months ago
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leather's in season
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pairing: re8! chris x reader
tags/cws: semi-clothed sex, semi-public sex, implied to have had sex in the past, coworkers, p in v, cockwarming, the gloves stay on! (until they don't)
summary: chris and reader are bored on a stupid stakeout on a mission, waiting for hours in chris' car, and they're cold, pent up with frustration, and...
a/n: the gloves have me in a chokehold (jk but i wish they did)
div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
wc: 1.6k
tags: @vaaaaaiolet @faysslut @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart
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Contrary to popular belief, the worst part of fighting BOWs for a living is not the constant threat of death. It's the boredom in between the thrill of fighting — protecting the world from alphabetical viruses that can turn cities into zombies overnight gives you a sense of purpose. Sitting in the passenger seat of Chris' jeep makes you feel… absolutely nothing.
Okay, fine. It makes you feel something. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if you weren't trapped in the car with this man, with nothing to talk about, nothing to even think about besides the one drunken night you've avoided discussing for almost two months. You could go the rest of your life without mentioning it, and so could Chris. Except, when he takes his coat off, it's impossible not to notice his muscular frame, and when he groans in exasperation, it sounds so similar to that one time when —
"What?" Chris says, sounding ticked off, though you haven't done anything. You've only thought about doing things. Things you know he likes, for that matter.
"What do you mean 'what'?"
"You're staring at me."
"There's not much else to look at, since you're taking up like half my field of vision."
An exaggeration, of course, but he is a large man. In many ways.
"It's fucking cold in here. Can I turn on the heat?"
"No. You'll burn through the battery. And it's not even that cold."
Men. They'll wear basketball shorts in the snow. Of course he'd say it's not that cold.
Chris pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Could you at least roll down a window if you're going to do that in here?"
"No," he says, "it's cold out there."
"I thought it wasn't that cold," you mock him.
He lights it despite your protests. He's the boss here — a fact he reminds you of at every opportunity. "It isn't. But it would be—"
You snatch the cigarette from between his lips, take a drag and blow the smoke into his face.
"What the fuck was that for?"
You not-so-subtly go into a coughing fit, having never smoked before. You hand it back to Chris, looking off to the side, knowing he'll make fun of you if you look at him. He takes it from you gingerly like it's a prized possession.
Minutes go by, the cigarette discarded in the ashtray in the center console, you pop a stick of gum in your mouth.
"Can I have one?" Chris asks.
"It's the last piece. Sorry." You're not really that sorry.
Chris is almost 50, but he pouts like a baby. It's almost cute. Almost. It would be if he hadn't made a fuss earlier.
"You can have it," you say, "I don't really want it anymore."
"Okay…" he says, suspicious — no, curious — about how you plan to exchange the gum you're offering him.
"Come here," you beckon him with a finger.
It's a trick as old as he is, but if nothing else, sitting in this car has made the both of you desperate, so he takes the bait and lets your lips touch.
It's quick, you play it off as a simple transaction, but Chris is nothing if not predictable. He grabs you by the cheek and kisses you again, harder this time, just as you expected him to — he takes control because he can.
"Get in the backseat," he says with a commanding, yet matter-of-fact tone that sounds similar to the one he uses with you in the field.
"Is that an order?" You ask, teasing him as he gets out of the driver's side, closes one door, opens another, and slides into the backseat.
Your eyes meet through the mirror on the windshield.
"You wanna stay warm, I'll help you, but I expect you to drop the attitude."
You want to be warm, and more importantly, you want to be closer to Chris, so you shut your mouth and get in the backseat.
Age, for Chris, just means extra gray hairs on his head and a greater proclivity for aches and pains after long days in the field. He's yet to lose that animalistic urge to tear your clothes off your body.
Your gear is long forgotten, lying idle in the front seat, but your turtleneck – skin-tight like Chris' – is very much still covering your top-half, a hindrance to Chris. His fingers fiddle with the fabric but you're quick to push his hands away.
"I told you, it's fucking cold."
"But I wanna see you," he says, with the voice of a middle-aged man, but the conviction of a whiny child, "I bet you look so pretty."
"You already know what I look like," you say, "unless you've forgotten."
"I could never forget that," he says between hungry kisses, "I've been thinking about the way you looked that night everyday since, which is why I want to see you like that again."
His lips find your neck, then his teeth tug your earlobe. "I'll make it worth your while," he says into the shell of your ear.
You agree to let him take your shirt off because when he's not demanding, he's convincing.
But he can't will his hands to heat up and he can't convince you that they're not cold. You shiver against his touch.
His solution is simple: keep the gloves on.
The feeling of leather against your skin is new, but Chris' deft touch is familiar. You know what his fingers feel like inside you, rubbing against your g-spot, making you cum with his hand over your mouth in the fucking supply closet. Only the location has changed, instead of a door, there are tinted windows. No one else is around (you hope), you can only hear the occasional voices of members of your squad coming from the radio.
You agree to strip when Chris offers you his coat (in addition to a place on his lap) to keep you warm. With you head tipped back, resting on his shoulder and his hands between your thighs, you say, without a thought in your mind, "I want you to fuck me."
You hear his breath hitch and feel his cock strain against his pants and you know he feels the same.
"Fuck, okay, but I'm not waiting for you to get comfy. I am not getting frostbite on my dick."
"Don't worry, I can handle it."
He hums, knowing you're likely overestimating your abilities but dying to be inside you nonetheless.
He lifts you up momentarily and you hear the clink of his belt and the zipper of his pants. He takes them down just enough to get his cock out. Without warning, he takes your hips and shoves it inside you, one deep thrust burying himself to the hilt.
It makes you gasp, it makes you whimper. Arousal makes you overconfident and the stretch is payback for your hubris.
"You're fine," he says. "You can take it."
"It's too much, I-I can't."
"Not my fault you're so fucking tight. Shoulda known based on your attitude."
"Well, your dick is almost as big as your ego."
It's hard to insult him when you're naked – aside from his coat – perched on his cock.
He laughs, rare and sweet – and proud. "Not my fault, either."
Chris' fingers, still covered by his leather gloves, play with your clit, making your walls flutter around him, every spasm elicits a grunt from him, and it only spurs you on – you try to lift yourself up, prepared to ride him like it's your life's purpose, like it's the mission you're in the middle of fucking nowhere to complete. He stops you, grabs your hips and holds them steady against his.
"What the fuck?" you say, pissed off (about how much his insistence on controlling the situation turns you on). "I thought you were gonna fuck me. This isn't fucking, I'm just sitting on your dick."
"Oh, it's not fucking?" he says. "Guess you're easy to please then, 'cause all I've done is stick my dick in you and you're about to fucking cum."
"I am not," you say, in a whine, as your cunt betrays you, clamping down around him, making it nearly impossible for him to fuck you if he wanted to.
Instead of taunting you, he takes his gloves off, shoves two fingers in your mouth and rubs your clit with more precision, more dedication to this mission.
"Cum for me," he whispers in your ear when he knows you're close.
You try to talk back. "Is that an or– oh my fucking god," your orgasm cuts you off. His hand covers your mouth before you can scream his name, and it's probably better that way. You're embarrassed enough as it is when you notice that you've soaked the front of his pants.
"You didn't–" you start, realizing he didn't cum. You're not sure if you should be grateful or offended.
"No, I have self-control," he says.
It's fucking reverse psychology whether he intends it to be or not – insulting you just makes you even more determined to make him cum, to pay him back.
"Oh yeah?" you challenge him as you sink to your knees.
He doesn't respond, doesn't protest. He lets you suck him dry.
You watch him go through the stages of pure bliss while you bask in the knowledge that you did this to him.
It's quiet finally, no arguing, no skin-on-skin, no moaning.
Except for the radio, which you realize you forgot to silence.
"I guess we have some explaining to do," you say to Chris.
"No need," says the voice on the other side, "we heard you loud and clear."
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yanderes-galore · 5 months ago
Note
Could you do prompts by starbabytae 14, 19, and 21 for Aemond Targaryen?
Aemond has gone FERAL in Season 2... so I'm ready. S2 E4 has definitely given me ideas. End is a bit awkward as I was unsure how exactly to fit it with the prompts.
‼️POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR HOTD SEASON 2 - ALTERNATE TAKE ON THE EVENTS OF S2 E4‼️
Prompts Here
Yandere! Aemond Targaryen Prompts 14, 19, 21
“I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”
“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.”
“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.”
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Swearing, Stalking, Mature themes, Typical ASOIAF themes, Potential Targcest (You replace Helaena), Manipulation, Sadism, Threats, Possessive behavior/Jealousy, Murder, Blood mention, Forced/Dubious relationship.
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Aemond had gotten used to the fact he'd be overlooked. He wasn't king due to being born after his brother Aegon. He tried to settle with simply being a warrior for his king on top of Vhagar.
But he still hated it all the same.
Aegon, the whiny brat of a king and brother, always got what he wanted because he was older. As king he had all the say. Meanwhile Aemond was left envious and irritated at how incompetent his brother was as king.
Aemond studied like the good prince he is, he's even better in battle. He's a better tactician and doesn't sleep around like his whore of a brother. He doesn't understand. Why must Aegon be king simply because he's older.
What makes it worse? Aegon also got his first and only love.
You were betrothed and married to Aegon. Aemond had loved you since you both were kids, yet the younger prince was forced to watch as you married his brother. Not only that... but he had to witness the babes you bore for him.
The thought still makes Aemond seethe. He's tired of allowing Aegon, an entitled brat, get what he's always wanted. Aemond always thought he'd make the better king... he's always followed his duties...
He wishes you and him were betrothed instead of Aegon.
While you may not belong to him, Aemond still yearns for you. For years he's loved you. Even when you were married to Aegon he still fantasizes about how it would feel to have you as his.
Aemond always watched you from afar, swearing himself as your protector. On top of Vhagar he felt he was the one making decisions for this war. He's the one making plans while Aegon flirts with other women.
Aemond can tell you aren't happy with Aegon... Aemond could treat you so much better.
Aemond wasn't expecting the opportunity to act on his desires ever. At first he was just going to take Criston Cole to take down Rook's Rest along with Rhaenys and Meleys. Vhagar has been so eager for a fight.
Then he saw Aegon swoop in on Sunfyre... making him pause.
He should be ashamed... but the plan was too perfect.
It was too easy to swoop in on Vhagar when Sunfyre and Meleys were busy. Aemond just had to say one word and the whole situation would look like a freak accident. The thought of finally taking what he deserved makes him grin.
"Dracarys!"
The command is short, simple, but executed with a plume of fire from Vhagar as both smaller dragons are struck down.
Aemond took sadistic delight in taking out both riders. The fire from Vhagar was enough to make Aegon and Sunfyre crash down. However, it took some stealth tactics to bite the neck of Meleys to make the red queen fall with her rider.
By the end of the fighting, Aemond found himself standing in front of his burned brother on the ground. His brother barely moved, yet his breathing was faint. Aemond barely hesitated when he picked up his brother's dagger and hovered it over his burned brother's chest.
"I will be the one to make her happy, brother." Aemond whispers, not caring if Aegon even heard or not. "I will be king, I will win this war, and I'll do it much better than you did."
It's then Aemond does the finishing blow, tucking the dagger away before leaving. The sight of the blood trickling from his brother's chest indifferent to him. Criston Cole enters the foliage to see Aemond and the corpse of the king. The knight goes to say something, yet Aemond's remaining eye glares at him.
"It was a freak accident, that's all it was." Aemond hums, walking past the knight. "Say otherwise and I'll have you gutted by my sword."
The loss of Aegon was a much bigger loss to The Greens. In comparison, The Blacks only really lost one dragon and dragonrider. The Greens...? They lost their king.
Which leads to them placing Aemond in power in an attempt to regain control.
The death of your husband makes you... conflicted. You didn't really love him... yet you feared the vulnerability that came from having the king slain. You believed it was genuinely an accident caused by Aegon's rash decision to prove himself.
Completely unaware of the culprit hovering around you, coddling you and cheering you up like he didn't kill his brother.
With the death of Aegon, Aemond began courting you. You're a widow queen... and he's the new king. Naturally... you two end up being betrothed to keep up support for The Greens. The marriage is then scheduled to happen within the week.
Such an announcement brings rumors from both sides and supporters. The whole thing seems too convenient. Soon there were rumors of Aemond being a kinslayer, killing his brother just to take his wife.
Aemond could care less for such problematic rabble.
All he really cared about was making you his, let them gossip.
Aemond couldn't help the playful chuckle that poured out of his lips when he saw you pacing about your chambers. You looked so vulnerable without Aegon around anymore. Now you are his queen... one who should listen to him and love only him unconditionally.
Aegon never deserved you, at least Aemond promises to only pay attention to you.
"Here you are, love." Aemond greets, cupping your cheek. "Gods how I love you... I've always loved you...
Aemond leans closer to brush his lips over yours, you leaning into his touch obediently.
"I'm so happy to call you mine... It makes everything I've done worth it...." Aemond hums, kissing your lips. He craves your taste, your touch, always has since you young.
Now you're finally his to claim....
"I always hated the fact Aegon got to have you..." Aemond whispers, pressing your face closer to his own in between kisses. "I always wanted it to be me... always should have been me... but now you're mine...."
Your feelings for Aemond are... complicated. You loved him more than Aegon yet couldn't help but distrust him. It felt too... planned.
Yet you were scared to push.
"Aemond... it is scandalous to act this way with a recently widowed queen...." You whisper, yet Aemond only ignores the comment.
"Let the commonfolk think what they wish..." Aemond growls, pulling you flush against him. “I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”
Aemond then chuckles, the idea of the common people and the royals knowing you're his a pleasing thought. To him, this is the ultimate revenge. Even now he despises his brother for taking advantage of the privilege he was given.
At least Aemond plans to use it right.
“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.” Aemond teases, tracing his hands over the exposed skin of your nightgown. "Just as you should be...."
The way you shiver in his touch excites him. Be it from pleasure or fear, he doesn't care. Now that you're his... Why would he ever let go?
"Do you believe the rumors, Aemond?" You ask him in such a sweet voice, his one eye looking at you affectionately. He wonders if you can see the darkness in his violet gaze. "The ones where they call you a kinslayer?"
"Do you believe them?" Aemond asks, affectionately kissing your skin. "Do you really care what the common folk think?"
Aemond waits for you to answer, yet is met with silence. He chuckles at your conflicted gaze, kissing your lips softly. It really didn't change anything if you believed them or not... only two people knew the truth...
and Criston Cole was dangerously close to being hanged, anyways.
"Don't worry so much, love." Aemond whispers, pulling back a bit to view you fully. "You'll hurt yourself... just focus on me..." He kisses you one more time before sitting on the bed, hands on your shoulders. "Could you sit on your knees for me...?"
Obediently you listen to him, making Aemond shiver in anticipation. This was what he always wanted. You listening to him... coddling him... tending to only him.
“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.” Aemond praises, petting your head as he lays your head in his lap. "No need to worry about anything, my queen... I'll take care of it all for you."
You merely listen to your new king as he strokes your hair. This is all he's ever dreamed of. Aemond can't hide the dark smirk on his face as he gives you the affection he's always wanted to give.
You shouldn't look too much into rumors, you shouldn't worry about a thing, who cares about the fate of Aegon?
You have Aemond now... he'll fix everything... for you, the kingdom, and the seven realms.
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leclercsloveletter · 11 months ago
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CL16 | friends or not
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Summary: You love Charles, but he keeps you treading on the line between friends and strangers. The humiliation and frustration finally got to you.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem reader
Words count: 1842
Warning: mention of sex, angsty I guess? Google translated french
Author’s note: Inspired by Zeph’s song I just love her music so much. This is my first time using tumblr to post fic so let me know if I can improve the formatting somehow to make it easier to read! Thank youu <3
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"Hey Y/n, I'm in Monaco today, pull through?"
"Sure, usual time?"
He left a heart reaction to the text, the familiar dance of messages unfolded with practised precision. An occasional catch-up session with Charles over a glass of wine or within the intimate confines of your shared solitude has become the only constant rhythm in your situation with him. In fact, you don't remember the last time it wasn't like this. He texts you when he's around, and sometimes makes plans just to let it fall through at the last second. You understand he's a man of business, always busy and on his feet, but why would he even consider getting to know you when he knows he can't be at least present in your life as a friend? Worse, why did you allow him to get his way?
Charles Leclerc is the type of man to only text back half the time you texted him. You would be lucky if he read your messages, a lot of the time, he resorts to ghosting you for days or even weeks only to reply with short, blunt, generic answers. Sometimes you laugh to yourself at the audacity of this man, a virtuoso of unpredictability, to parade you around like his future girl during intimate dinners with his friends only to burst your bubble when he's back on the road again.
But sadly, Charles Leclerc is more than that. Besides his devilishly handsome face, he donned the facade of the happiest man alive, a veneer that temporarily eclipsed the shadows of uncertainty when you're finally allowed to occupy his precious time. The streets of Monte Carlo bore witness to your interplay of laughter and the tender clasping of hands. With him holding you so close to his chest the paparazzi can't snap a shot of his mystery girl. It gets to your head like a sick disease. Moments like that are when his existence woven itself seamlessly into the fabric of your life.
Between the white sheets plastered on your naked body and the whispers of the Medditerian sea, Charles Leclerc was your Charlie. The Charlie that speaks in fluent waves of serenity about his life on the road. His words are like a siren's song, drowning out the echoes of your longing that surface in his absence. In those stolen moments, he becomes the tranquil pulse that courses through the veins of your shared narrative. You wish you could tear him out of your skin.
"So, how's life?"
You start the conversation, sitting across from him in a restaurant on the edge of Monaco. Charles is gorgeous as always, in his cream-coloured sweaters that you spent many early mornings nuzzled in before he kindly pulled it off your frame.
"Would you believe me if I said it was kind of shit? Could've been a better season I guess. How about you?"
Charles replied with a laugh, sipping on the sweet wine with eyes fixed on you. It should be illegal for him to give you that look, the look that says he has a genuine interest in your existence.
"I can tell, you always call me when you panic. I think I had more calls from you this season than I ever had before."
A quiet acknowledgment, an attempt to make him realise the shared vulnerabilities you had for each other. You look around before continuing, the same restaurant where you first met, linked up through a mutual friend at a dinner party. He gave you his number over a glass of whiskey on the rock, leaving you full of naive anticipation to send the first text.
"I remember the first time I saw you here. I was starstruck to meet you in real life, clinging to every word you said, so excited when you handed me your number. I wish I wasn't the last thing on your mind Charlie."
Words flow out of you uncontrollably, you don't know why you said that. The pain bubbling up and closing behind your throat as you speak intrigues Charles who now wears an expression of confusion and slight frustration.
"What do you mean Y/n? You know how much you meant to me, tu es la meilleure chose sur terre, chérie."
His gaze softens, hands reaching out to pat a stray hair on your head. His attempt at reassurance softened the moment, yet a lingering doubt clung to the air. You wish he meant it, or meant it and not regret it.
"You're looking at me like that again. Like I'm the best thing on earth to you."
"Because you are-"
"Only because I'm the only one to look at. The second best of two is just last Charles."
Over that bar counter where he slipped you his number, when you were dwelling on the heartbreak of your last relationship, or when you found yourself crying in his living room over the loss of your friend, Charles always said he'd be there for you. Yet, in the crucible of reality, the promises seemed hollow. He's only there when nobody else needs him. You're a second thought to him, a blind spot he noticed when it's convenient. But a part of you desperately held on to Charles, wishing, praying, begging that one day you would be promoted to have a position in his life and not just an on-and-off fling he does.
"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to make you feel that way."
He said, voice just as calm and peaceful as you always knew. But filled with static and signals that you're tired of decoding. Right at that moment, you realise you could either move on or continue being his nuisance. To set yourself free from Charles's hot and cold would mean to be free of the games he set you in.
"Just reply to my text more often Charlie."
But to set yourself free from Charles also means to lose the love you drove through all the mixed signals for.
-
"Mon ange, what are you thinking about?"
"Nothing much, just that time you brought me to dinner with Max and Kelly. It was nice."
The street of Monaco, viewed from the inside of Charles' car, was silent on a weeknight, surrounded by the sea where lights and chatters fell into white noise. It felt the same as the night when Charles hit you up last minute since he "didn't have a plus one for a party" which turns out to be just dinner with Max and his girlfriend Kelly who have to go on a work trip abroad next week.
Kelly sat across from you, mirroring one another: Women who are successful in their line of work, flowing with beauty and sophistication, have a world-class F1 driver accompany them while you all sit and gossip. The only difference is that she has a title and you don't.
"So Charles, when will Y/n be making paddock appearances? I think Ferrari would love it if you put on a show for the tifosi."
Max joked, tipsy over the seemingly unlimited alcohol on the table. Charles and you both choked on air, but you were flustered with your heart drumming in your chest, and Charles was trying to hide the scrunch of his nose.
"Ah I don't know Max, we are still trying to figure ourselves out. I'm in no rush to run PR and have Ferrari staging pap on me."
He sighs with a chuckle, Max and Kelly both wear concerned gazes seeing your face drop. In your head, the world stops spinning, he doesn't even have the guts to refer to you as a friend, but just something mysterious and hindering that he has to "figure out". The delicious food suddenly turns sour in your mouth, as sour as the pity he's sparing you by asking if you're alright.
-
"Charles, are we friends?"
"Of course we are, I wouldn't let a stranger in my car yea?"
He said lightheartedly, humming to the song on the radio. You can only let out a sigh, you don't know if he's dumb or he's leading you on anymore. Your desire for him is real, it's running thin by the second.
"Stop the car, Charlie."
"What?"
"We need to talk"
He pulled over carefully, you left the pista so fast it's like the leather was burning holes in your skin. The night breeze hit your already cold skin, Charles brought out a coat you know he kept in the back seat to swing over you. If only this was how it is always, to have him so close and so caring, to be his only one.
"So..."
"Charlie, are you bored of me? Did you realise I'm replaceable? If there's anyone better please just let me know and we don't have to pretend we know each other anymore. Please Charles I'm sick of being led around like your decoration only for you to treat me like less than a friend when you're away."
Silence, he stood in silence with a look you can't recognise after spending so much time tiptoeing around him. Your pleading caught him off guard, he probably didn't know you had a breaking point. Or at least he didn't expect it to catch up to him so soon. Charles pulled you into a hug, a futile attempt to assuage the tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I promise we are friends. I'm sorry mon ange, that I made you feel that way. I'm uncertain about us, I don't know what I want from you. I just want to keep you around."
"Charles I'm not just something to keep around. I have my values, I'm a human too. I want you but if you don't want us then just...let us go"
"I don't want-"
"This isn't just about you Charles, it's about me too. I will not sit around to wait for you while you go fuck another girl on a different continent every race season. You either give me something or you let me live."
You tore away from his arms in the outburst. Charles looks lost, heartbroken, just the way you look when he did the same to you. You almost run right back to apologise, to cradle him in your love and swear to never hurt him again. But you can't stand being a pet of his anymore, not when you put your whole soul into this man but still not deserving of a title.
Silence, silence hung in the air so heavy and suffocating as he led you back into the car, and dropped you off at your place. A "bye" so small it got lost in the wind as he drove away. War is over you guessed, even though there was no answer but no answer is better than waiting for a potential answer from him. You pull out your phone, delete his number, delete your pictures, unfollow his private account and let the heartbreak wash over you.
Down the street, Charles felt the same as you do for the first time.
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directdogman · 9 months ago
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Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]
1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 
2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?
3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?
4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?
5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)
6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?
7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?
8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?
9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??
10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?
11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?
12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?
That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!
I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!
1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 
Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!
2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?
Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?
3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?
Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.
4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?
Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.
5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)
Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.
6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?
Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.
7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?
I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.
8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?
That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.
9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??
I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.
For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)
10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?
I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!
11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?
Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.
12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?
Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.
...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.
The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!
And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)
Thanks for the questions!
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detailtilted · 6 months ago
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In Search of Supernatural Fans from the Early Years
Hi! I’m looking for the legends who originally recorded old Supernatural convention panels featuring Jared or Jensen, or possibly Misha. See "What I'm Looking For" below. If you know one of them, or if you're a member of a community with people who were in the fandom in those early years, I’d greatly appreciate it if you could let them know about this post. I can be reached at [email protected] or here on Tumblr.
If you aren’t familiar with my project, see the “Project Background” section below. This is not a low-effort exercise to merely repackage old videos. I’m putting many hours of work into each video to improve their watchability and accessibility. I will always credit my sources unless you wish to remain anonymous.
Even if your videos are on YouTube, I’m likely to have more success upscaling them if I can get the original video files. Thanks to the videos AgtSpooky kindly sent me, I've learned how big of a difference it can make when I have the original files to work with. That's why I’m putting more effort into finding those elusive original video takers.
The problem is that they all seem to have fallen off the face of the earth. Most of their YouTube accounts, LiveJournal accounts, and whatever other accounts I’ve dug up haven’t had any activity in 10-15 years. I’ve left a few messages on some of them, but I doubt they’ll be seen on dormant accounts. I’ve also gone down some crazy and twisted Googling paths trying to find current contact info for them, but without much success. In one case I even messaged the wrong person, who was at least kind enough to reply to the psycho asking for videos to let me know she wasn't the person I'd hoped she was. Oops!
What I’m Looking For
I’ve already finished CHICON 2007, Comic-Con 2008, and CHICON 2008, so I don’t need videos from those events, but I’d be happy to try to upscale your videos for your own collection if you have some you'd like to send me.
Actually, I could use CHICON 2008 Breakfast videos if you have any. I plan to attempt to redo that video either late this year or early next year.
I’ve been trying especially hard to reach people with original video files from either LA 2009 or Asylum 3 (2009), and I’d also be ecstatic to get some from LA 2008.
Any other old con videos you’re willing to share that have Jared or Jensen in them would be awesome. I hope to get to all the old conventions eventually. I haven’t yet defined “old”, so I don’t have a specific cutoff point.
Even if you just have audio files without video, those could be helpful too.
Length doesn't matter. Both long and short videos are welcome. Maybe I won't end up using them all, but the more options I have the better. Even if I don't put your video in my final edit, it would still be used because I always listen to every single video I can find when I'm finalizing my subtitles. Each video sounds at least a little different, and sometimes just hearing the audio in a slightly different way lets me catch a subtitle I'd missed or misheard.
Also, just to be clear, it isn’t necessarily my intent to exclude Misha. I’ve watched and enjoyed many of his convention videos and I liked Castiel for the most part, especially in the earlier seasons. I’m just not obsessed with Misha like I am with Jared and Jensen, and these videos do take quite a lot of work, so I’ve been putting my energy where my greatest interests lie. I’ll absolutely be including him when he’s in panels with Jared and/or Jensen, and in the future I may consider doing some of his solo panels.
So if you have original video files of Misha's solo panels that you’d like to send me, I’d be happy to add them to my stockpile for future possible use. If your videos turn out to be mostly complete, and if they upscale easily, then I might go ahead and do his panel at the same time I do the other panels from the same convention. If they'll take more effort to work with, I’ll probably skip them for now, but I may come back and tackle them if/when I run out of old Jared and Jensen videos to work with.
For any con videos you send me, regardless of whether I use them or not, I’d be happy to try to upscale them and send them back to you for your collection. I can’t always get things to upscale, so I can’t promise success, but I’ll definitely try.
Project Background - Enhanced Edition Con Videos
You can find my videos on my YouTube channel. (If you're already familiar with my project, skip to the next section -- there's nothing new to see here.)
I started this project in December 2023 to enhance old convention videos. My goal is to make them easier on the eyes and more accessible to both new and old fans from around the world. The videos on YouTube from that time can be difficult both to watch and to understand due to a combination of the older technology used to record them, the difficult recording conditions the fans were working with, and the lack of subtitles that make any sense.
I’m enhancing the videos as follows:
Visual Improvements: I’m upscaling the videos if possible, making color corrections if needed, and adding some slight stabilization to reduce the jitteriness. The end result is far from perfect because there’s only so much that current technology can do, but it's noticeably improved if you compare it to the originals.
Subtitles: I’m adding good, color-coded, English subtitles that can be turned on or off through YouTube’s CC button. The color-coding makes it more clear who's saying what when multiple people are speaking, and YouTube can auto-translate them into other languages to improve the accessibility.
Multiple Sources: If one video has gaps in it, then I'll try to find another that I can edit in to fill those gaps so the end result is as complete as possible. If I have more than one source that captured the same portion of the event, then I'll cut to whichever video I think had the best view of the action. In a few cases I’ve added a split screen with two different videos showing simultaneously so we can see action that's taking place in two separate areas. For example, when Jared and Jensen are on opposite sides of the stage. (There were also the infernal talking head bubbles on my Comic-Con 2008 video which nearly made me throw in the towel, but taught me a lot. 😅)
Extra Content for Context: These older videos don’t take up the full width of a modern video frame, so I’ve taken advantage of the extra space to display some still images with text to add extra context for many of the things they discuss. Some things are a lot funnier, or at least a lot more relevant, when you know exactly what they’re talking about. I clarify Supernatural episode references and pop culture references among other things. Sometimes I’ve also inserted short video clips, usually just a few seconds’ worth, if I thought it would add worthwhile clarity or entertainment to the topic at hand.
Current Project Status
If anyone has been wondering how I’m doing on my current video and what’s next… I’m almost done with the last video from CHICON 2008, which was Jensen’s solo panel. I should be ready to publish it on YouTube this Friday, May 24. I plan to use the same schedule as last time and put the Tumblr post up the following Tuesday when it’s a little more likely to be noticed here.
The next sequential conventions are LA 2009 and Asylum 2009, but I haven’t had much success in my attempts to upscale the available videos. If I were to work with what I have now, I know I could turn out something better than what’s on YouTube today, but the end result wouldn’t be nearly as good as what I might be able to achieve if I can get some original videos to work with. So I think it’s more logical to skip over these conventions for now and give it some time to see if I get any responses, in hope of a better end result.
I do intend to come back to the skipped conventions eventually, even if nobody sends me anything. Once I run out of conventions for which I can upscale the videos, if I still don't have anything better to work with for the ones I skipped, I’ll just do the best I can with what’s available. Even if I can't upscale, I can still do color corrections and stabilization, plus the subtitles and extra content. Some of these panels are split up into a bunch of very short videos, so it would also add value if I can combine them into something more sequential and cohesive. (I found 130 videos from the Jared and/or Jensen panels at LA 2009, and most of them were under 2 minutes long. 🤣) I don’t know if there’s enough footage to cover the entire panels seamlessly, but I’m itching to get my hands on that jigsaw puzzle of videos to try to make sense out of them.
So… the next videos I intend to work on will be from Vancouver 2009. This is one of the conventions that AgtSpooky attended and sent me videos for and they upscaled very well. Her breakfast video had already found its way onto YouTube, but wasn't properly credited. Her main panel videos aren't on YouTube as far as I could find, so that version may be new to newer fans. I'm only just starting to play around with upscaling the other sources out there, but my first attempt at the other main Breakfast source came out well. Both breakfast videos were taken from extreme opposite angles, so that should provide some useful editing opportunities. I’d still love to get more videos of this event if anyone has them.
If you made it this far, I am in awe. Sorry for putting this wall of text on your screen! 😅
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kandyzee · 6 months ago
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Fiona cares a lot for siblings but often forgets to take their feelings into account. She gets a lot of criticism about this that I can understand to an extent, but no one ever seems to take into account why she acts like that. So many people will acknowledge that fiona was a child when she was put in charge but ignore the effects this would have on her parenting as an adult.
Fiona was too young to really understand emotions when she started caring for her siblings. Her lack of understanding of feelings would have meant she prioritised their physical well-being. Something I always think about is the story of her being left on the side of the road and taking lip & Ian to the clinic. It's one of the first times she's left in charge. Not only that, but it's the first time their lives are in her hands. Her brother could have died if she didn't get them both to the doctors in time.
Her view of mental health is tained by Monica. Most of her experiences with intense emotions involve her mother. She grows up hearing Frank monologue about how Monica is crazy and ruined his life. Monica leaves them because of her poor mental state. When something has caused you so much pain, it is easy to just ignore it. Fiona doesn't want to upset her siblings. Ignoring their feelings, to her, is her saving them from them. Out of site out of mind yk.
I also think it's worth mentioning how fiona never dismisses their feelings for selfish reasons. Even when fiona is doing things for herself, she ultimately gives back to her siblings. During her later seasons, fiona is at her most "selfish". She makes risky choices and does so without thinking about how it might affect the others. Things work out tho and she leaves them with a large part of all her earnings. Cause really she was thinking about them even if not directly. Fiona has always seen herself as the carer, good things for her is good for everyone because she's in charge.
Fiona is a very big picture thinker, she has long plans but struggles with short term. This is another reason why fiona can so easily forget the emotional side of her actions. The positive outcome she's striving for is worth the hard times. This way of thinking makes sense when u consider her role in the family. When ians born she's thinking of it as 18 years she is working towards making him a good person. When Debbie, Carl, Liam are born it's the same thing
I just think its dumb to act like fiona has no reason to act the way she does. For a lot of people it's so clear why fiona would have problems that they don't think deep into it and I wish it wasn't like that.
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remidyal · 6 months ago
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You know, at the time I had kind of assumed that Ruben was a high enough level that he had enough HP to not be taken to 0 from Grix's disintegrate even if he failed the save. For those who aren't aware, disintegrate is a fairly rare spell by 5e standards in that saving isn't for half but instead entirely prevents the damage; this is because if you ARE taken to 0 by its 40+10d6 damage then your body gets destroyed completed, taking everything short of a Wish or a True Resurrection off the table for bringing you back. It's a nasty one for a DM to use, but by the time you're really fighting creatures that can cast it you generally have enough hp that you would need to be softened up a little with damage before a cast of it would be threatening.
(Kristen, now, is at a level where she has access to normal Resurrection which can raise someone who's been dead for up to a century, but you do need a body - she's likely one of a small number of clerics in the setting who CAN raise Lucy even past a year, though there are major downsides to raising someone who's been dead more than a year for the caster. She's still a full three levels short of True Resurrection.)
Ruben's HP pool from what we see in the final fight is most likely somewhere between 53 and 75 - Brennan talks as though the Fireball save would have saved him, at least; he had already taken 30 from Adaine's Synaptic Static - which even at the upper end leaves it entirely possible but not guaranteed that a disintegrate would kill him from full. (Average damage on 40+10d6 is exactly 75.) It wasn't a guarantee that Adaine would try to counterspell, and it absolutely wasn't a guarantee that she would be successful in it; I don't think Brennan would have fudged the dice on damage or save, either, so was there actually a version of the season where the Ratgrinders go down a bard not even halfway through the year? I don't think Ruben living there was actually required for any part of Porter's plan, but it certainly is the stuff of fun AUs.
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gguk-n · 4 months ago
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Grand Prix Morning (Oscar Piastri x Reader)
Congratulations Oscar on his first win!!
Summary- After watching the Hungarian GP and seeing Oscar apologise after his first win, you wish you could make him feel special and that he deserved it. So, you go to bed and wake up on the day of the GP!
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{Reader's POV}
I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad right now. Oscar Piastri just won his first race in Formula One and in his second season. That was such a proud moment until you remember the actual shit McLaren pulled on their drivers. I had been watching the race today, Oscar was pretty good in the beginning and being his fan I obviously hoped that this was the race he finally got his first win. But after the pit stop and Lando leading I didn't think possible; until I heard the radio message. I had mixed feelings. I rejoiced watching Oscar cross the chequered flag. But then I heard his message, apologising. It broke my heart into a million tiny pieces. But what could I do? My voice would be a tiny whisper in the sea. I shut my TV off, not in the mood to watch any of the post race stuff; because I felt bad for Lando too. I couldn't bear sitting through the interviews. So, I made myself some dinner, watched a rom-com to get my mind of things and went to bed, earlier than usual. I would deal with my emotions tomorrow.
Now when you normally sleep, you expect to wake up in your own bed, as an adult at least. When you were kids, that was a different story. My eyes were adjusting to the dimly lit room and a figure in front of me, walking around the room as quietly as possible. The room looked like a hotel room and the figure in front of me was Oscar Piastri. "Oscar" I said out loud. "baby, did I wake you up?" he asked like a deer caught in headlight. "No" I replied tentatively. Was this a dream? Was I this sad that this is how I was coping? "What's the time?" I asked reaching for the lamp. "It's 6 am. I'm gonna get some exercise done before I head to the paddock" he said while tying up his shoe lace. "I'll come with you when you leave for the paddock" I stated; scared to be alone where ever I was. "Sure babe" he replied, striding up to my side of the bed, leaning down and leaving a peck on my lips before whispering a bye against my lips and heading out.
My brain had short circuited. Oscar Piastri kissed me and called me terms of endearment. This has to be a dream but those pink lips were so real, warm and slightly dry and peeling. The way his hand cupped my cheek when he pecked me, the warmth still lingering against my skin. I reached for my phone to check what weekend it was; to my surprise it was the Hungarian Grand Prix today. The race Oscar won, maybe I'm here to wrong the right. I quickly showered and got dressed. If I got to be a WAG even for a day, I was gonna enjoy it. I wore a pretty coral midi dress. As I sat there in the room waiting for Oscar to return, a smile etched on my face as I went through my gallery.
We had been dating for a while, since his F2 days. He was all the bit romantic as I imagined him to be. My parents loved him, his parents loved me. This felt like a fairytale. There was one problem, Oscar would probably know that I was someone else and not his 'girlfriend'. I don't know how this version of me acted. The jig would be up so soon.
Oscar walked through the room, all sweaty and red from the work out. "Lemme shower and then we'll get breakfast" he said not even looking up while taking his shoes off. The moment his eyes travelled up from my legs to my face, a smirk plastered across his face. "You look gorgeous" he said almost breathless. I couldn't help but giggle. "You look hot" I replied. "Only for you" he shrugged. I felt the heat rise up from my cheeks. "Can't believe I can still get you this flustered, even after so many years" he smiled with amusement. I got up from where I was sat, "You'll get me flustered even when I'm an old lady" I muttered. "That's the plan" he grinned.
A freshly showered Oscar was proving to be the bane of my existence like out of the gym Oscar was. I wanted to jump him, but it didn't feel right and I wasn't taking advantage of him like this. The way to the paddock was filled with casual talk. Who knew Oscar could talk. At the paddock, we greeted the other drivers and fans we saw along the way. The McLaren hospitality was bustling with both pole and P2 starts were McLaren's. I tried to speak to their race engineers to gauge the strategy but I wasn't allowed. I even tried to talk to Lando and Oscar about the race, but they were busy discuss the details amongst themselves to pay much attention. I spent the majority of my time trying to figure out what I was supposed to do to change the scenario. I wanted Oscar to win but not with the mess McLaren created.
As the race progressed, like I had watched it play out. I realised, I wasn't meant to change the process or outcome. I was just here because I hoped and prayed to be able to comfort Oscar and celebrate his win like I hoped he was supposed to enjoy his first win. I watched McLaren fuck it up whilst I stood there next to him. I heard Oscar apologise for the second time, shattering my heart again. I rushed to see Oscar with the staff in tow. Oscar got out of the car and looked around, our eyes met. He came running with his helmet in hand, "I won" he whispered, only for me to hear. "I saw" I replied with tears in my eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You've come so far Oscar. You're the Hungarian Grand Prix winner, don't apologise for your win whatever it may be" I whispered. Oscar's face inches from mine, his eyes glistening with tears at what I said, "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N" he said out loud while wrapping his free arm around my waist and pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss was a mixture of tears and sweat, since the two of us had started crying. I cupped his cheeks, deepening the kiss, our emotions were all over the place. "Go and get your trophy, I'll wait for you" I said while pulling away from the kiss. "Be right back" he grinned and left to get weighed.
The podium celebration was bitter sweet, but I was not gonna let this over shadow his win and do what I was here for. I quickly got flowers delivered to the hotel and some sweets. I waited for Oscar to be done with the media and stuff while scrolling through my phone. The discourse was on another level, but the pictures of me and Oscar kissing were circulating every where. I wish I could take this back with me. Oscar's mum called and we were on the phone for a while. My parents called us to congratulate him as well. It felt so weird to hear Oscar was my boyfriend.
Oscar found me in his drivers room. "There's my grand prix winner" I stated. Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up in the process. My hands stabilised myself on his shoulders. "I'm so happy we got to celebrate this together" he mumbled against my skin. "Me too" I muttered. "By the way, your mum called. You should talk to her later" I said urging Oscar to put me down. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, placing me on the ground. "What? no" I replied. "You've been calling me Oscar or nothing at all the whole day. I didn't think much of it before but now you said your mum when you normally say mum" I was caught off guard, "It's nothing like that" I tried to diffuse the situation. "My mum texted me too about your win and yours called. I just wanted to clarify" I said. "Oh" he hummed. "Now, let's go. Let's have a Oscar Piastri worthy celebration" I continued. "Like what" he asked. "Dinner in bed and a movie of your choosing." I answered. "Finally, I get to choose." he laughed.
We got back to the hotel, where there were quite a few flowers. I may have gone over board. We entered the room which looked like a botanical garden at this point. Oscar smiled taking the scene in. "For me" he whispered. "For you" I whispered back. "I wanted to show you how much I love you and how proud of you I was. This is just a small token of my happiness Osc" I said. "You're the reason Lando calls me Osc. Find a new nickname. I don't like sharing it with him. But thank you for this" he remarked. "Sure darling" I announced. He walked through smelling all the flowers. We spent the rest of the night watching a movie Oscar had picked and eating our hearts content.
I was scared to fall asleep, what if I woke up back where I was supposed to be. What if this 'reality' ceased to exist? As my eyes got heavy, keeping them open was a task. Oscar had started succumbing to sleep having switched the TV off. "Thank you for making my day even more special then it was." He mumbled. "Thank you for letting me show how loved and appreciated you are. I love you Oscar. Today, tomorrow and always." I whispered kissing his forehead; letting sleep take me. If I woke up back in my world, so be it. At least I made Oscar's day.
When my eyes opened to the bright sun shining from my window, no Oscar in sight. A silent tear fell from my eye. I wiped it away. Happy that at the very least I was able to heal my heart, and maybe his in another universe.
my heart wanted to write this for a while
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lieutenantfloyd · 2 years ago
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“No Rest For The Wicked” - T. Wolff
Formula 1 masterlist
Pairing: Toto Wolff x Team Principal!Reader
Summary: In the weeks before the start of the season, you, being recently appointed Team Principal, have been working harder than ever. During your shared lunch break, Toto notices how obviously worn out you are and insists you use his office sofa to catch up on some sleep.
Warnings: Gender neutral reader, mentions of overworking and not sleeping/eating enough, mutual romantic feelings, friends-to-lovers trope, very slight Implied age gap if you squint. Also, reader's team is fully up to you to choose! (Ferrari TP is my personal favorite).
a/n: Executive dysfunction has been kicking my ass for the two months but I finally finished something I’ve been wanting to write and am pretty happy with :)
- Prompt: A standing guard outside B's office as they take a short nap during lunch break so as to make sure nobody interrupts B's much needed rest. Taken from this post !!
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With your new job title and the start of the Formula 1 season fast approaching, on or off the paddock you were who everyone on your team turned to. Meaning that you were practically on call at any and every hour of the day. Despite all the pressure and stress, you wouldn’t want to be doing anything else. Unfortunately, your life outside of work, including your social life and sleep schedule, had taken a massive hit.
Exiting yet another meeting, you bid goodbye to several of your team's engineers and head off down the hallway. As you walked you rolled your shoulder back and glanced down to check your watch. The shiny clock face informed you that It was just before one. By some miracle, your schedule had allowed you to meet up with Toto for lunch and had even granted you enough time to exchange your things in your office before heading over to the Mercedes garage. You quickened your pace and soon entered your office. You placed your usual work bag on your desk chair and grabbed your laptop, a water bottle, and a few snacks. Your plan was to work through lunch and hopefully catch a late dinner, but you knew Toto wouldn't let the hour pass without you eating something.
You had first met Toto when you were a tender footed engineer and he himself had only just been named team principal. Despite spending your careers in different (and often competing) garages, you and him were both grateful to find a genuine friend and confidante in your fast paced lifestyle.
Crossing the paddock, you entered Mercedes territory and landed in front of his office door in record time. The door was already cracked open, allowing you to enter without much fuss. You secured your grip on your belongings before quietly pushing the door fully open. Toto was on a business call as you arrived, but he made sure to send you a wink and a wave.
- Once fully inside, you staked your claim on a small part of the couch and the adjacent coffee table. You opened your laptop and began answering emails while grazing on the snacks you had brought along. You answered the first several with ease, but it wasn’t long before you were doing your best to fight the familiar sense of tiredness creeping in. Stretching, you pushed back against the couch and tried to refocus your eyes.
Another several minutes pass before you hear Toto end the call. Looking up from your laptop, you notice Toto shift his attention to you. He examined you for a long moment before sighing. A soft disapproval flashing across his eyes.
"You seem tired," he stated. Your heart panged as you catch the edge of concern in his voice. Despite your best wishes, you knew you couldn't lie to him. Even if you did, he knew you far too well to fall for it.
"I am, but it's nothing I can't handle." You said cautiously before turning back to your work. For as long as you knew him, you were confident he always had your best interests in mind. It was one of the many qualities you loved most about him. But this wasn't a conversation you wanted to have right now.
"Have you been getting enough rest?" His voice cut through your thoughts.
"Yep." You answered. But even to your ears, your words sounded unconvincing.
As expected, he raised a teasing, albeit unconvinced, eyebrow. Informing you of what you already knew; that he saw through your words instantly.
"No." You admitted with a huff. You were disappointed but unsurprised you relented so easily. He always did have that effect on you.
"That's what I thought."
You watched silently as he pushed away from the desk and stood. The room wasn't very large, so it only took his tall frame a few strides until he was standing in front of you. Seconds later, he plucked the laptop from your hands and made a dramatic show of saving your work and powering the computer off. Your eyes had initially widened at his actions, but you didn't protest.
You couldn’t help but laugh at how silly the situation was. You were a grown adult. (more or less) capable of taking care of yourself. But that’s just how your relationship with Toto was. Always looking out for each other. With that in mind, you knew better than to argue. He'd never relent, and frankly, you didn't have the energy to spare.
Setting the laptop back down, he spoke softly.
"I remember my first few seasons. You feel that you must dedicate yourself entirely to the team, but you're no help if you can barely keep your head up."
You simply nodded at his words. Your shoulders slumping automatically. A welcome symbol of defeat.
"If it was up to me, I'd send you home. But I know you don’t like to take my advice, so-” he paused just long enough to shrug off his coat.
It was less than a split second lapse, but damn your tired brain for forgetting to conceal the sharp draw of your breath at his action.
Likewise, further damn the terribly adoring look he shot your way.
You thought back blessedly to the moment early in your career when you learned to make mental notes and urgently committed a fresh one to memory: follow up on what the hell that meant the instant you’re thinking clearly again.
“-It's not much, but even just an hour of sleep on an office sofa is better than whatever you have, or haven’t, been doing." He finished, tossing you his coat-turned-makeshift blanket.
The moment your head touched the cushion, you knew he was right. To your fatigued body, the couch might as well have been a king-sized bed in the finest hotel.
And from Toto’s point of view, the scene at hand was just as pleasing.
It took an unreasonable amount of inner strength to subdue the fervor blossoming in his chest as he watched you shamelessly snuggle into his coat, roll onto your side, and let out a sigh of satisfaction. It also took a nearly equal amount of strength for him to step away from you.
"I'll be just outside the door if you need me," Toto said. But he wasn’t entirely sure if he was stating this fact for your benefit or for his own. You mumbled softly in apparent agreement, already well on your way to a much needed nap.
"And when you wake up, we can discuss dinner plans." He voiced under his breath, closing the door silently behind him.
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rainesrants · 7 months ago
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California & Me
Pairing: Cove Holden/Reader, Baxter Ward/Reader
Word Count: 2.4K
Tags: Angst, Unrequited Love
Summary: Cove, your best friend, sees you as more than just a friend. When a certain someone returns to Sunset Bird, how will he react? Inspired by California & Me by Laufey
A/N: I hope you enjoy! Sorry if it was too short, I wrote this in about an hour. I might edit this in the future, though.
When Cove first heard you'd be going out of state for college, he didn't know what to say. After all, this was the first time he'd heard you change your plan. It was rather spontaneous, especially considering your original idea was that you'd be remaining in California, continuing your studies and volunteering there.
When he saw the worry on your face waiting for his reaction, he felt a piece of his heart crack. Forcing on a smile and a "Congratulations!" he watched you let out a sigh of relief. He knew he couldn't make you stay; who was he to deny you of your dreams? Little did you know, the moment he went back to his home, he began crying. He didn't even bother to go to his bed, collapsing on the ground as soon as the front door closed.
You tried your best to hide it, but he knew deep down why you had decided to leave. Baxter Ward, your "suitor for the season," had left, his absence leaving a hole in your heart. You insisted that you were fine, but it was noticeable to everyone the way the light in your eyes disappeared, your smile following it. The memories were too much, the feeling of heartbreak raw in your chest.
He tried his best to be there for you, entering through your window even more frequently to check on your condition. He didn't even bother to try "sneaking in" anymore, your moms seeing his parked car in the driveway even though he was supposed to be at his new apartment.
He could only watch as the bags under your eyes got darker and darker, neglecting the need for sleep as you scrolled through all your old messages and photos. It was as if everywhere you’d look, you would still see the memories of Baxter there.
On the day of your big move, everyone who still lived there had gathered outside of your house: your parents, Mr. Holden, and Cove. This time, you would be the one leaving. First it was Derek, then Liz, then Terry and Miranda, and finally, you.
Cove had agreed to drive you to the airport, and your parents hadn’t protested driving in a separate car. They knew you both needed your space to say your farewells to each other.
As you both got inside, your luggages in the trunk, he felt the thickness of tension in the car. The only sound that could be heard was the familiar lapping of the tides fading and the sound of the road underneath as he drove farther away from Sunset Bird.
The two of you remained in silence for what felt like hours, neither speaking a word as he parked in the airport’s garage. He was thankful your parents had ushered you to leave early, allowing you more time to speak with each other before you had to check-in.
The sound of your sniffles is what caught him off guard, and as he turned to face you, he watched the tears pour from your eyes. Without a second to spare, you unbuckled your seatbelt and practically leapt across the car to pull him into a hug. The feeling of your face in his neck was something he was used to, but the way your tears dampened his shirt wasn't.
“I’m going to miss you so much. I wish I could take you with me.” Your words were muffled as you spoke into his shoulder, squeezing him tighter as if he was going to be the one leaving. At your words, he felt his own tears begin to follow, and he wrapped his arms around your torso.
Choking back a sob, he slowly rubbed his hand soothingly in circles around your back. “Hey, it’s never too late to open a pretzel stand.”
You let out a small laugh at his joke, and as you finally pulled away, you rubbed the tears from your eyes into your sleeves. Then, gently pulling him closer, you grabbed ahold of his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. It was to no avail, the waterworks continuing to spill from both of you. This time, you both laughed.
The taste of salty tears reminded him of the ocean, and as he looked at you, all he could imagine was the sun. He didn't know how he would function without your warmth, your comforting hugs, and your caring heart. He didn't know how to function without you.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” he whispered. He didn’t know what else to say, but as you began to sob even harder, he felt his heart break.
“Cove, please tell me this isn’t a bad idea. I want to leave, but at the same time, I’m going to miss everyone so much.” You said, reaching out to hold his hand as you spoke.
He felt his throat tighten as he realized what you were asking: “Should I leave?”
He was right, it was never too late to stay. You could just unpack all of your things again and stay there with him. Maybe you could take college, get a job, and do whatever you wanted to do in Sunset Bird. He wouldn’t have to hold onto the memories he had with you. Instead, he could be making new ones with you at every single moment.
But as he looked for your reaction, he paused. You needed his support at that moment, so despite his selfish thoughts, he mustered enough energy to say, “You know what you want to do, so follow your dreams. After all, we’ll always be here. I will always be here.”
At his words, he watched the way you seemed to relax, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
He wondered what would’ve happened if he had told you to stay, to remain with him. Instead, all he could do was wipe his tears as you finally left the car, grabbed your luggages, and headed to check-in. Both your parents and Cove’s dad were already waiting for you, and for once, they didn’t seem to tease how red and puffy both your eyes were. With a final hug, he watched as you entered security, turning back one last time to wave goodbye.
You had promised to keep in contact as much as possible, and you did. You called each other at every possible moment: when you landed at the airport, when you started your first day at school, when you were offered your first job, and everything in between. He was always there for you; it was the least he could do since you were always there for him.
Of course, he'd try his best to see you in person too, but it was more difficult than he thought to travel all the way across the country. Who knew one of the tallest people you knew would be afraid of flying? He didn't either, until he looked down from the window 10,000 feet in the air. He'd chant the words "this will be worth it" to himself over and over again, gripping the sides of his chair tightly. In the end, it really was worth it.
The knots in his stomach would disappear at the sight of you waiting for him, looking down at your phone to check if he had landed yet. He stood still, waiting until your eyes met. He could never forget the way your frown shifted into a smile at just the sight of him, the way you practically leaped to greet him, and the familiar feeling of you in his arms as you pulled him into a tight hug.
So when he heard you'd be coming back to California for Jude and Scott's wedding, his heart leapt out of his chest. This would be your first time visiting your hometown in a while, your new job restricting you from coming over too much. He was more than upset when he realized he was busy and wouldn't be able to see you until the actual ceremony, but he was even more upset when he heard a familiar name fall from your lips.
“Baxter Ward.”
“Huh?” Cove said, confused. You had been silent for a few minutes, despite you being the one to call him.
“It’s… Baxter. Can you believe it?” You let out a breathy sigh, as if in disbelief.
“Baxter who?” He forced out a laugh, acting clueless, but deep down, he knew exactly who you were talking about.
How could he forget your first kiss, your first date, and your first partner? Cove was supposed to be your first, but no, Baxter took that opportunity from him. He was only supposed to be a fling, so how come after five years, he had come back?
“Liz used to describe him as an “emo Victorian man.” He’s Jude and Scott’s wedding planner. What a coincidence, don’t you think?” The sound of your laughter rang through his ears, and he struggled to understand.
He felt his mouth dry, not knowing how to respond. Oh, how he regretted taking all his vacation days to visit you. Otherwise, he would be there in a heartbeat to see whether or not you were telling the truth. He knew you had no reason to lie, but the thought of his reappearance made him begin to worry.
“Hello? Cove, is everything alright?”
The sound of your voice is what snapped him out of it. Desperately trying to come up with an excuse, he began to panic. “Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry, I just dropped Cove Junior’s food.”
“Oh, sorry for distracting you.” You mumbled, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
Forcing out an awkward laugh, he said, “It’s okay, really, but what about Baxter? Tell me more.” He knew it would hurt to hear it, but what else could he do?
As you spoke, he recognized your tone of voice. Retelling the events of your day, he noticed how you dreamily sighed, and although it wasn’t a video call, he could imagine the way your cheeks turned red with just the sound of his name. His final straw was the day of the wedding. When he saw your face, he was so happy to see you that he almost didn’t remember Baxter. Almost.
During the entire ceremony, he would only catch a couple of glimpses of him, as if he were entirely avoiding the two of you. He could see how hurt you were, but you continued to smile so as to not ruin Jude and Scott’s happy day. That was when his resolve snapped, and he excused himself from the table. You looked at him in curiosity but went back to talking with Terry and Miranda after he lied saying he needed to go to the restroom.
Looking around, he searched the room for a person wearing a purple suit. That’s when he finally saw him in all his glory, standing in the corner of the room watching the others party with a sad look on his face. Although Cove couldn’t say he liked him, he felt pity on the man. When Baxter finally turned his head and saw him, he put on a polite smile.
“Cove. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said, almost as if he had rehearsed it.
“Yeah, you too.” Awkwardly putting his hands in his pockets, he slightly rocked back and forth.
“Have you enjoyed the ceremony so far?”
Cove simply nodded, and as he finally got the courage to confront him, he took a deep breath. “We don’t have to do this, Baxter. I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
He looked taken aback by his bluntness but quickly attempted to regain his composure. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Perhaps you’ve misunderstood.”
“You know they’re in love with you.”
He didn’t even act surprised, just looking away with a guilty look on his face.
Cove continued with his statement, fighting back tears as his hands formed into fists. “They’ve always loved you, even after your disappearance. I don’t know if anybody has told you, but after you left, they were heartbroken. I had never seen them so hurt before.”
“I apologize, but there’s nothing I could’ve done for them.”
Cove could feel his temper start to boil, his eyebrows scrunching in frustration. “You could’ve been there for them, responding to their texts or calls.”
“We were both doing our own things. I was finishing my education and became a wedding planner, they were off in college becoming successful. It was… for the better.”
“For the better? After you left, they were a mess. I’m sure they haven’t told you, but the reason they went to school in New York was because they missed you so much they couldn’t bear to handle walking through Sunset Bird and the memories of you.” Cove was out of breath, and he realized he had raised his voice. Thankfully, no one was paying attention, continuing to party. Trying to calm down, he fidgeted with his hands. “Anyone could tell they like you. The way they look at you is the same way I look at them.”
Baxter's smile disappeared for a moment but he quickly put it back on, as if it were a mask. “To be quite honest, I’m a little surprised you’re the one telling me this. Even when I first arrived in Sunset Bird, I noticed your affinity for them. Why help me?”
Cove was trying his hardest to hold back on the waterworks, looking out the window to avoid his gaze. “They only see me as their best friend, nothing more. I’m not sure if they’ve ever noticed, but I do know one thing-they deserve to be happy. You make them happy, happier than I’ve ever seen them. So please, if they approach you at the party, at least listen to them.”
Baxter didn’t respond, and Cove quickly turned around, leaving him to his thoughts. He had a lot of regrets, but losing you was his biggest one. What if he had insisted you didn’t date him in the first place? What if he had insisted you stay in Sunset Bird? What if he had been the one to ask you out first?
When he finally watched you approach Baxter, kiss him, and return with a cheery smile on your face, he knew his answer. No matter how much Cove loved you, he would always lose to Baxter Ward.
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sempersirens · 1 year ago
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yes, chef | part three
summary: domestic bliss doesn't last long with a man who doesn't know how to regulate his emotions at the idea of losing someone he loves
pairing: no-outbreak!au, chef!joel x f!reader
content/warnings: lots of angst, swearing
a/n: omg as a brit writing stories set in the US i always forget how far states are from each other.... wym you can't just hop on the train from houston to new york?
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In theory, you'd always wanted to be a morning person.
You envied the ease of Joel's body slipping out from the sheets each morning, never fighting with his eyelids for just five more minutes of rest.
The break of dawn was probably your favourite time of the day; you just preferred to soak it all in warm and semi-lucid from Joel's bed. The ambience of car engines on the street below slowly waking up mixed with Joel's coffee pot singing on the stove felt like a hymn sung only for you. You'd shut your eyes - only momentarily, before hearing the door creak open and the large white mug you'd claimed as your own being set down beside you on the nightstand.
Strategically, it was lucky that Joel always had to get to the restaurant hours before you. But each morning you wished you could pull him back under the duvet and sink yourself into his chest until it was impossible to decipher where you ended and he began.
Showering after spending a night with Joel felt like sacrilege. If it wasn't for the sweat and other fluids clinging to your skin, you would wear the remnants of his touch and scent on your body like an expensive French perfume.
The restaurant was always hectic, but now nearing the festive season everything seemed to intensify rapidly. However, screwing the boss did have its perks; you'd managed to sneak a couple of days off last week to visit a friend from culinary school in New York.
While you were there, she'd taken you to one of her favourite spots in the city, introducing you to the head chef who was a friend of hers. He'd asked about your current role and you told him everything about working for the Joel Miller - strategically omitting the parts where he has you pinned against the stove after hours.
You'd thought nothing of it after that, knowing it would mostly be inconvenient to hire someone halfway across the country when culinary grads were lurking on every corner in the city. You didn't want to leave Joel, either. You didn't plan on staying at his restaurant for the rest of your life - even he didn't, but things were good. You felt secure for the first time in your life.
Finally arriving at the restaurant, you sang a chirpy "Mooorning!" into the kitchen before dumping your things into your locker. As you tied your apron around your figure, Joel emerged from the office, eyes dark and trained on the floor.
"Good morning, chef." You cooed in a low tone, letting your voice rasp every so slightly.
He kept his eyes on the ground, grunting something inaudible vaguely in your direction before stalking into the kitchen.
Weird.
Whenever you and Joel got a moment alone he would always take advantage of your solitude, even if only for a couple of seconds. He'd seemed fine at the house this morning, you'd heard him singing along to The Supremes while making breakfast. Maybe the wrong amount of stock had been delivered; the tiniest of setbacks were often enough to dictate his mood for the entire day.
You pushed the encounter to the back of your mind, redirecting your attention to your prep for the day.
"Has anyone seen my boning knife?" You shouted over your shoulder after all but turning your station inside out.
Before you could turn your head, a heavy hand slammed the knife in front of you.
"Was on the floor when I got here this mornin'. Watch your shit and clean your station." Joel growled, loud enough for the rest of the kitchen to hear.
"Yes, chef." You bowed your head, cheeks turning pink with embarrassment.
You were more than familiar with his sharp tongue and short temper, but there was something about the way he spat his words at you that sent an unease through your body. He'd made you feel small. Why couldn't he have left the knife on your station for you when he found it? It seemed like such a petty thing for him to do.
Not wanting to let his mood rub off on you, you brushed it off and carried on with your tasks before service started.
The morning rushed past in a haze, and soon enough orders were coming through. Joel had remained eerily quiet for the majority of the morning, you almost wished he would shout at you to simply acknowledge your presence.
He hadn't found a single excuse to touch you, an act of affection he often employed while he made his rounds through the stations. You felt like you were a child being given the silent treatment by your mother, all of a sudden you were six again, tugging at the hem of her dress begging for her to look at you.
You were in the midst of prepping a monkfish and kohlrabi main with cauliflower and dates, almost ready for it to go to the pass, when you felt his presence behind you.
"Sauce ain't reduced enough."
"With respect, chef, it has two more minutes on heat."
He left before returning with a spoon, dipping it into your saucepan of monkfish stock.
"Needs lime."
"I'm going to add lime before it goes on the pass. As I said, it's not finished yet."
"Fuckin' useless." He muttered quietly under his breath, but you caught it.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?"
"I said you're fuckin' useless. Slow, no attention to detail, don't know why you're still in my kitchen."
Your heart sank deep into the pit of your stomach, sweat coating your palms. All eyes were on you both, and the sizzle of your burning sauce on the stove was the least of your worries.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" You fought for your voice to not waiver.
Was this part of your act? Had he taken the game you both played too far? There was no softness in his eyes, no remorse or realisation that his words had stung you.
Before he could dismiss you from the kitchen, you untied your apron and threw it to the ground, letting your hard work char and spit on the stove.
You didn't say a word as you snatched your things, bustling through the back door without another glance.
"Where the fuck d'you think you're going? You don't get to walk out of here mid-service just because y'needed more damn lime." Joel called from behind you.
"This isn't about the fucking lime, Joel. How could you speak to me like that? I thought, I thought-"
"You need to get some thicker skin. They ain't gonna coddle you like I do in New York."
The words must've slipped out of his mouth judging by the way his eyes widened at the mention of New York.
"What are you talking about?"
"They called me this mornin' - for a reference. Told me how impressed they were meetin' you."
You wanted to reach out and touch him, to console him and tell him how this was all just a horrible misunderstanding. Then his words replayed in your head. Every time you looked into his big, angry eyes all you could hear was useless, fuckin' useless.
"Grow up, Joel. Maybe if you'd have talked to me about it like a fucking adult I could've told you it wasn't like that."
"Oh yeah, what was it like? You plan on fuckin' your way to the top there too, or that just with me?"
He was being unjustly cruel and he knew it. This wasn't a power play for you, and he knew that. Although you'd never said it, you loved him, and you were almost certain that he loved you too.
But this was too much - he had pushed you too far this time. There was no coming back from this.
"Fuck you, Joel."
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mynameisvarian · 8 months ago
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The Boxleitners AU (WordGirl)
Basically a Becky Boxleitner AU but I give Steven himself more character development and plot relevance before ultimately being fused to a mouse.
Before Squeaky (Season 1-2-3)
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●•• Steven Boxleitner's fusion with Squeaky occurs much later than in the show in order to give him a much more in-depth character development to show his relationship with his daughter and his positive impacts on the people of fair city as a whole before his descent and transformation into Dr. Two Brains.
●•• With her identity as a superhero with an advanced vocabulary that's only know by her companion and sidekick, Captain Huggy Face. Becky Boxleitner is unable to talk much about her problems and difficulties with her own father because of the fear that all her hero-ing would get him hurt one day if he did find out.
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└ • Though during somewhere between Season 3 and before it's finale, Steven does manage to figure out her identity and tries to be helpful by providing help whenever she needs it.
●•• The Boxleitners live in a fairly nice neighborhood that's located near the outskirts of the city that is also coincidentally the same neighborhood that a decent amount of WordGirl's enemies inhabit, Their house is right next to the Butcher and Granny May's houses with Maria the Energy Monster secretly living in one of the powerlines across the street.
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└ • Steven has become friends with many of his definitely not villains in their civilian identities neighbors, Examples are:
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└ ✧ The Butcher (Jerald T. Butcher) - Jerald is surprisingly great friends with Steven as they'd met when Jerald had decided cook some bbq but unfortunately broke his own barbecue grill on accident though he ultimately met up with Steven when he'd heard that the man was inventing a machine that cooked meat much faster, This little interaction had then led to become the thing many of the neighbors look forward to every week, The Weekly Neighborhood Barbeque.
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└ ✧ Granny May ( Granny May) - May has always treated the Boxleitners as close family ever since the day that they'd started visiting her when during one of the neighborly bbq she'd let slip that she felt alot more lonely since her family and grandkids were off on vacation with even her own mom being busy aswell and that she wished more people visited her more often, the next day Steven brought his daughter and their pet monkey over and chatted which eventually turned into them baking cookies and listening to Granny May's childhood stories every Friday after Becky gets home from school. (Colonel Mustard, Granny May's cat has also taken a liking to them)
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└ ✧ Mr. Big (Shelly Smalls) - With Wordgirl being able to foil his plans quickly he went under a fake name (Dr. Small) to seek the help of Steven Boxleitner to make a mind control bunny button which he ultimately used on Steven after the man found out about his true identity. Although even after being mind-controlled Steven still forgives Mr. Big and still do business with eachother like the time Shelly requested for a perfume that naturally causes bunnies to follow him.
➜ This leads to an episode that centers around Mr. Big using the bunnies against Wordgirl with steven on the other hand wasn't told what the perfume was for.
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└ ✧ Energy Monster (Maria the Energy Monster) - Though their interaction was short, Maria had managed to convince Steven that teenage girls turn into large Electrical Monsters when they hit puberty after he'd given her a device that turned certain Electrical charges into sounds that then let her communicate.
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➜ In an altered version of "Dinner or Consequences" Maria doesn't have the device removed and is able to communicate throughout the show permanently.
★ Becky is aware of their true identities but ultimately keeps quiet so her dad's new found friendship with them wouldn't end.
●•• Steven's assigned government owned lab and Becky's school that's just a few blocks away is located near the epicenter of the city so he normally just drops her off there when he's going to do some experimentation in the laboratory and if ever Becky gets out of school early she'll just walk to her dad's workplace to see and make sure that Steven hasn't accidentally blown himself up because of being too distracted and wait for him to finish so he can drive both of them back home. (On occasions, she'll just turn into wordgirl and fly back to their house if her dad was just at home.)
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└ • Becky had once been in the presence of a dozen miscoloured mice on one faithful afternoon when she'd decided to visit Steven, Each cage had been surprisingly lavish and contained three mice each plus everything their little mouse sized hearts desired, When asking about the indoor mouse zoo she was told that they were rescued from an illegal smuggling case in the far north of the city with the smuggler subjecting the mice to harsh living conditions to which made Becky automatically angry at herself for being unable to help these poor creatures as WordGirl.
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└ • Upon noticing his daughters clear reaction and the regret plastered all over her face, Steven placed his hand on Becky's shoulder and added that the mice were only temporarily in his care so they could be relocated to a place where all their needs will be met and that earlier today a nice elderly couple had generously donated over a pound of fruits and cheese for the poor mice which seemed to make his daughter's mood lift. He failed to mention how the perpetrator hadn't been caught yet and is probably roaming the city doing illegal smuggler things.
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└ • At one point, Steven had introduced Becky to a little lab mouse that he'd affectionately named "Squeaky" in the count that the little mouse was the most noisiest and the most likely to bite her fingers if given the chance. He'd mentioned aswell that squeaky was one of the mice that was rescued from the smuggler incident so the hostility to humans was understandable.
➜ On a side note, Her dad had shown her how squeaky could break down walls and walls of drywall to get to a singular piece of cheese, It's unsure if Squeaky was experimented on by the Smuggler or if the small mouse was always like this.
●•• Steven still makes the mind-reading device but for different reasons such as to read squeaky's mind to figure out the smuggler's identity and if more animals were being illegally brought to fair city and maybe be able to help the authorities catch the criminal but with a lot of things happening here and there the mind-reading device didn't get to the testing phase until season 3.
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The timeline is pretty messed up but basically any episode that's set in Season 1-3 that contains Dr. two brains as a main character is instead placed into Season 4 or tweaked so that it's Steven instead, The invasion of the bunny lovers is also put into Season 2 rather than 6.
This post is prone to being edited due to me always getting ideas on how to improve an AU so don't expect this to stay the same :D
(If you saw the sudden style change between images, Image 1 was drawn directly on FLIPACLIP while Image 2-3 was sketched on paper then placed into FLIPACLIP)
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ateriblewriter · 1 year ago
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It’s Kind of Funny (q.h)
requested: sort of but not really. they requested one thing and this is what my brain came up with but it doesn’t really go with what was requested but it kind of does at the same time? sorry about that.
warnings: none really
enjoy! let me know what you guys think (please)
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y/n always loved the off season because it meant that she could spend more time with her beloved quinn, wether it was in vancouver or michigan. where they were didn’t matter, as long as they were together. it had been like that for years, until this year. this off season she was stuck in vancouver. with it being summer and all, many of her co-workers opted to take vacations, leaving the office short on people. y/n being the nice person she was, decided to take one for the team and work through her summer.
quinn planned on staying with his girlfriend but she knew he missed his family and urged him to go home to michigan to visit with them. to combat the fact that they weren’t going to be together, they set up a schedule with certain dates and times where they would sit down and chat over the phone. sometimes the call would take place over facetime, which often times of you were alone would lead to sexy times
unfortunately for y/n tonight wasn't a phone date night. after having a crummy day at work and desperately missing her quinn, she just really wanted hear his voice and maybe see his face. ideally she would love to curl up into his side as he held her, but she was going to take what she could get. and sure they had been messaging all day long but it wasn't anything compared to hearing his voice
"hey queenie. im a little busy right now what's up?" quinn inquired. he was currently out on the boat with his brothers and a couple of others. it wasn't the ideal place to have a conversation but since it wasn't a regularly scheduled time something must have been up.
even though it had been an unplanned call quinn was always willing and wanting to talking with his girlfriend. she was his everything. it had physically pained him when he had to leave her behind in canada. he wished like hell that he could have brought her along with him to michigan, but he understood how important her job was to her.
"i just need to hear your voice. today wasn’t good and i need you.” her voice was soft and quiet a hard combination to hear over the boat’s motor. but it had sounded a little bit off to him, there was a certain sadness oozing out of it.
"y/n? what's up? are you okay?” he pulled the boat to a stop as best he could. they hadn't started wake boarding yet, so no one was in the water. he could tell she was about to say something when he noticed the phone no longer in his hand.
"no phones quinn!" jack plucked he mobile device from his brother's grasp. there was a rule that bee put in place some time ago that no phones were allowed on the boat. of course they still brought them in case of emergencies, but that was their only purpose. this was friends and family time, everything else could wait.
"come one man, can i have it back? it's y/n" quinn tried to get his property back from his younger brother. "please jack."
"oh it's queenie? pass it here jack!" luke jokingly used the nickname that had been reserved only for quinn to use. the younger boy made grabby hands towards the thing in his older brother’s hands to which jack happily gave him, mischievous smiles dancing around their faces. holding the phone up to his ear, luke started to speak mimicking quinn's voice the best he could.
"queenie, darling, sweetie pie, my cutie patootie. you are the love of my life. i miss you so much. my love for you is endless. i want to marry you and have ten babies, three dogs, a cat and, maybe a fish!" the youngest sibling finished his little speech by making kissing noises into the receiver of the phone, causing everyone on the boat to erupt into laughter. everyone except quinn, who's face was beet red.
"luke come on. please, give it back" quinn began begging luke to stop and give him his phone back.
"but i'm not done talking to y/n. we still have things to discuss." luke giggled holding the device out of quinn's reach, coincidentally over the edge of the boat. “i haven’t told her about the big house yet!”
he had had enough. he was going to get the electronic back. climbing over his brother, quinn reached as far as he could and almost got it before the phone was knocked out of luke's hand. everyone watched in horror as the mobile device sunk to the bottom of the lake.
to say he was mad would be an understatement, quinn hughes was furious. y/n called him sounding like she was having a hard time with life and their summer distance and his stupid little brother had to go and dropped his phone.
"im sorry. i didn't mean for that to happen quinn." luke apologized profusely, but quinn wasn't listening anymore. sitting back down in the driver's seat, he turned the boat around, heading back for home base, so he could call her back on his computer.
y/n felt her phone vibrating in her pocket before she heard the deafening ringtone she programed into her phone letting her know that it was her favorite boy calling her. the caller was confirmed when she unlocked her phone, accepting the call and quinn's face popped up on the screen. once she answered and pleasant greetings were given, quinn listened as y/n ranted about her bad day throwing in an i’m sorry and a i love you every once in a while, and she did the same for him when it was his turn to complain about the people he was with.
“so what happened before?” y/n placed an elbow on the table and her head on her fist. she felt a lot better now that she was talking with her boo.
“it’s kind of funny, but it’s not funny.” quinn launched into the story of what happened after luke said what he did and why he was on a computer and not his phone.
“you really want to marry me? and start a family of ten with a couple of dogs and cats?” y/n joked about what the youngest hughes had said. a smile appearing on her face, that made quinn feel warm inside despite being thousands of miles away.
of course he did, he loved her and even had a ring picked out, he was just waiting for the right moment. the only thing he wasn’t sure about the ten kids. but who knew maybe a big family was in their future.
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