#after literally nothing that has come before this can support it in any way
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just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33
EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)
a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻
don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah
“of course i’m serious”
luffy:
in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew
at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy
however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew
after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice
he seems to have that effect on people
while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different
within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life
the two of you never have a dull moment together
while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded
and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break
eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time
you balance each other out perfectly
the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company
definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience
you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off
over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more
you notice the shift far before luffy does
luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh
he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off
probably assumes he’s just hungry…
in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything
you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now
the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable
(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)
he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy
he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings
to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff
nothing is awkward when you start dating
it just feels right
he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating
now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling
sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you
definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself
he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together
he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh
he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him
will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute
he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you
he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you
you definitely have to teach him a lot
like what you’d like to do on dates
and how to kiss
luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try
after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough
definitely understands now
a super messy kisser (ofc)
gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses
he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you
you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you
sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown
he didn’t realize it would be so fun
it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires
he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything
kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it
never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident
loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around
he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything
even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock
other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends
the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company
luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him
he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach
you are each other’s safe space
the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday
saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now
will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself
if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard
the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like
“hey, do you wanna get married?”
probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!
obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out
the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them
after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit
not much changes in your relationship other than your titles
he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something
but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever
zoro:
when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying
the two of you clash almost immediately
after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse
the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons
nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you
for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other
however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks
his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty
it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place
over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it
you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”
or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time
eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship
the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while
but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes
and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence
and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear
he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him
without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship
whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way
the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you
neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp
when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have
but you don’t need to
your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will
your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer
running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc
eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers
you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered
your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter
as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home
there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are
like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates
robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep
eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder
zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands
still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship
he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking
like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room
he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you
the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see
however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone
it’s much more domestic
quieter
you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words
the silence is soothing
other times, the two of you can talk for hours
he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to
and he’ll hang onto every word
he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private
he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session
or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair
he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas
he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly
sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you
either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action
his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you
in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate
neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably
you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart
when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle
zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook
he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at
the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other
if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you
but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)
“why don’t we get married then?”
“are you serious?”
“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”
the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning
the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers
sanji:
as we all know, sanji is a lover of women
he’s also a hopeless romantic
from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels
he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life
while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first
you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?
and it first, it’s really not that much different
he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation
but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more
you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond
you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes
you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free
sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you
like for real
the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before
but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way
he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on
you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic
you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it
he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently
compliments you up and down, every word sincere
he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking
never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you
sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women
however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure
he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible
he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom
gentle and passionate
sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic
he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you
he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist
after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew
sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops
he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot
loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at
loves hugs and cuddles obviously
always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman
also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all
still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day
your relationship is very flirty in general
he can dish it out way better than he can take it
he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine
even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right
the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next
sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating
and he means it 100% too
he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings
sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day
as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you
he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere
and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry
he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter
oops!
the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything
sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding
his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw
cries when he sees you walking down the aisle
he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time
usopp:
you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew
you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories
he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime
and of course you help him craft his weapons
the two of you are basically inseperable
you do absolutely everything together
you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them
you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on
you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make
you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes
but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests
you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other
everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all
the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”
he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory
you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows
completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you
nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less
the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved
he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous
you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess
most of the time you do it by accident
he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him
you take your relationship fairly slow
he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand
he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you
the first time you kissed him he almost passed out
he cannot believe you actually want to be with him
once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time
your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips
his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft
the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so
usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace
when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn
talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead
loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend
he’s just so proud to be with you
literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever
you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that
you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what
if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy
because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise
not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before
it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal
takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand
gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes
you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife
chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl
brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories
no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old
law:
you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation
you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life
you owed you’re life to him
so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary
you stayed anyways of course
your relationship started out strictly professional
he was the captain, and you were the crewmate
you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it
over time, you grew closer
you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company
eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking
you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought
after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated
you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves
you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all
he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish
they don’t vanish
instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you
meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably
the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew
you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid
eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you
his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words
your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months
if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss
he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner
gets really affectionate when he’s tired
he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best
law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing
he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp
sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood
loves having his hands all over you whenever he can
also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly
doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you
he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that
instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear
when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it
he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets
while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things
you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast
and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew
your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife
he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy
if you want to get married, that’s what will happen
the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should
there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you
after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches
it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out
he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you
ace:
very flirty with you from the very beginning
compliments you all the time
thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it
the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”
pisses everyone else off
you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern
so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you
the solution? set you up, obviously
some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together
setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone
pairing you up on chores and tasks
they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour
it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack
ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever
he fell first, you fell harder type shit
huge dork
can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way
but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary
never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day
loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!
literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together
very touchy and just wants to be close to you
despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world
extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much
50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet
he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry
very experienced, and it shows in everything he does
he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you
slutty waist 🗣️🗣️
king of the knee thing
loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours
also pretty open about pda
he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either
your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication
definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile
if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal
he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you
would pick the PRETTIEST ring
he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second
as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes
would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice
possibly making a bet to see who catches on first
once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time
asks are open!
#brairslair#brairs hc’s#one piece scenarios#one piece#one piece smut#one piece thoughts#monkey d. luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy smut#luffy x reader#luffy smut#roronoa zoro smut#zoro smut#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#sanji x you#sanji smut#sanji x reader#god usopp smut#usopp smut#usopp x reader#law x you#law smut#trafalgar law smut#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#ace x reader#ace smut#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace smut#one piece fluff
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something fascinating to me about egg discourse is how often tme people Also joke about or question their friends potential to be trans, and it's literally never talked about like this.
my cis and tme nb friends routinely joke about celebrities or characters that have big "nonbinary energy" or who otherwise exhibit behavior we would associate with ourselves. i have tme friends and acquaintances who have approached me or my wife and straightforwardly said "something seems trans about you, have I asked for your pronouns recently?"
similar friends have even talked about other still-cis friends in our circle this way, or joked about "when are you going to transition like the rest of us?" or "yeah cis people are a minority in this group, just give it time" or "no wonder you have queer friends with how comfortable with being gnc you are" or etc etc examples like that
even the actual examples of people in my life that I can think of as being the most "invasive" or presumptive about gender have been tme people:
it was my cishet friends who outed me and my wife as trans to everyone at their wedding, including their boomer parents and hundreds of strangers, and called it "the most queer wedding party ever"
it was my tme nb friend who kept saying they could "always tell" her transfem cousin was trans before she came out, and then proceeded to randomly give us extremely personal details about her bottom surgery
it was my transmasc friend who refused to call me and my wife anything other than "little enby beans" after we met and introduced us with our full genders+sexuality labels to every single person one by one at a party
it was my transmasc nb friend who kept insisting my wife could "still be nonbinary" when she was first considering identifying as a trans woman instead, and it was THAT idea that actually slowed her down from making changes to her life that she wanted
it was my cis friends who approached me arm and arm and cornered my outside of a bathroom at a party right after I took a piss to suddenly ask me what my pronouns were because they "heard something" at the party
like, transfems deserve robust support against this trash so a lot of our defensive discourse has ofc been about how it IS okay for transfems to talk about eggs and be jokey about it and non-invasively approach others about being trans
but i swear to god none of these weird people have even stopped to make their discourse ABOUT anyone BUT transfems. it's so clearly targeted!!
no one has EVER approached *me* as a tme nb person and suggested i was pressuring gnc people with my egg jokes. never. nothing even remotely similar. i joke about other people being trans all the time and no one has ever treated me the way you all are treating transfems over this issue.
important note: my examples are all things I recall as being invasive and awkward, and I'm sharing them to make a point about how often rude behavior comes from the same tme people pointing fingers over this. but I still don't think any of them are worth the crucifixion people are treating transfem egg discourse with.
even when my friends were weird to me in the above examples, my reaction was either to confront them about it as friends who I trust to be able to communicate with, or to cut those individuals off after they proved not worth a relationship in the long run. at no time did I desire to make a call-out post or spread rumors about them or publicly declare all of their gender as a screeching menace to society.
my point here is that even when I do think about moments where others crossed a line, acting like this is a "issue trans women have" is blatantly transmisogynistic garbage that only exists to serve the woman-hating machine at the heart of our society. fucking cut it out
#to be clear: i have tons of transfem friends too#and im not friends with all of these people anymore#but thats not the point of this post at all#also obligatory im tme tag#but i think thats also clear in the post
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Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen
Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)
Masterlist | Support Me!
At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.
Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.
It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.
—
Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.
“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.
“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.
Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.
“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”
—
“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.
“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”
“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.
Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.
Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.
“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.
“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.
“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”
Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.
“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.
@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67
#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#sins fics
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Something something… through Viktor’s actions we see his possible linear mental checklist of his goals in life, and those goals included eventually confessing his feelings to Jayce, but before he did he felt he needed to do other things first. Namely:
1) Make Hextech a reality - Check. Viktor and Jayce actually achieved this one by 1.04. They could continue to refine forever but you can tell they both felt a sense of accomplishment in this.
2) Give Hextech to the people - Incomplete. At the end of S1 they had the refined Hextech crystals but the full benefits of their work had not reached the masses. Nor would it/should it ever.
3) Help the Undercity - incomplete, arguably completely unaddressed or even undermined by their work. The Hexgates drew Piltover’s attention away from the Undercity, which is why it languished while Piltover looked to distant markets. Hextech materially made life worse for the Undercity, as the alternate timeline showed us.
4) Hextech innovations lead to a cure for Viktor’s disease and disability - Successful but in the most horrifying way possible, including a body count.
5) Profit - Confess his feelings to Jayce.
(Don’t get too hung up on the order here because obviously a lot of these things could happen concurrently and I don’t think Viktor is stupid he would know that Hextech innovation could take a lifetime and probably wouldn’t wait to confess to Jayce just for that endlessly moving finish line.)
BUT, joking aide, I truly DO think that Viktor is kind and empathetic at his core and he really didn’t plan to confess his feelings to Jayce until he found a cure for his disease, which would require a lot of Hextech innovation to have any hope of reaching. Literally it would take a miracle.
I think Viktor’s belief in his own inadequacy could have festered in the painful doldrums of his own rapidly advancing illness after the initial glow of making the Hexgates happen.
Any hope of finding a cure was always remote, but as his illness advanced, this is when he may have even begun to push Jayce away, knowing the inevitable was coming. He certainly wouldn’t confess feelings to someone he loved with his days so numbered.
And that’s where I think a thread of actual resentment towards Mel might have crept in. To be fair, I don’t think Viktor hated her as a person, as such, nor was he a swooning teenager wracked by petty jealousy. But I think it must have stung to have his days so numbered and have this woman who represented everything he couldn’t offer to Jayce: health, wealth, beauty, position, prestige, etc distracting his attention away during what might be Viktor’s final days.
The thing is, I think rationally Viktor didn’t say anything because again, his days were numbered and Jayce and Mel were happy and well suited and beautiful and perfect together. He had nothing to offer. And it would be cruel to drag Jayce back just so Jayce would have to mourn him even more. Then as a result, Viktor was even more consumed by trying to save his own life by a miracle, though he now had to do it more alone than he ever predicted he would have to.
But there’s that horrible catch 22. He can’t tell Jayce how he feels because he might fail and die anyway and that would be cruel to someone he loves. But if he doesn’t tell Jayce, Jayce won’t come back to his side to help him out with the research needed to maybe save it.
Then Sky dies to the Hexcore and Viktor realizes just how much he’d lost of the parts of himself he liked, the parts that cared about helping others as PART of the cure for himself, and truly just gave up on any of it. He made his peace, decided to support Jayce during the emancipation of Zaun as a sort of ambassador, and resigned himself to the fact this would be the end for him.
Well, we know what happened next. Jayce saved his life, against Viktor’s wishes, using Viktor’s now-hates innovation.
Ok so now for the part that I was trying to get to:
A newly healed Viktor now has to reevaluate his life’s work checklist. It’s a much shorter list now.
1) Save his own life - check.
2) Figure out a way to make the world a better place - check.
3) Confess to Jayce now that you’re proud of who you are both inside and outside. You are finally worthy of him. You will finally live long enough that confessing isn’t an act of cruelty. You finally have achievements that make you worthy to proposition the creator of Hextech and the man you love, who is as far as you know, currently dating the physical embodiment of perfection.
And that explains Viktor’s catwalk into the Council Chamber in 2.08. He’s decked out in Mel’s colors. He’s ready to compete. He’s perfect now. He’s found a way to save humanity from itself. He is now worthy of Jayce and in a place where he can actually offer a lifetime together.
And Jayce rejects him.
This stuns Viktor. Actually, it fully knocks him into a villain arc, because Jayce has never refused him anything before. And Viktor can’t comprehend why his checklist didn’t work. Why did becoming perfect not work?
Because Jayce didn’t need the checklist. He’d already broken up with Mel. He didn’t need Viktor to be healed or to have already saved the world or to be anything else but Jayce’s partner. Jayce would have been happier if Viktor proposed at Step 0, but Viktor thought that would be a cruelty if he didn’t have a cure yet.
But I truly think Jayce would have preferred even just a day as Viktor’s official partner if that was all they got over a decade of being held at arm’s length until “everything was perfect”.
And that’s what Viktor doesn’t understand.
And that’s what Jayce had to show him in that final act of love.
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People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.
Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.
This sad, lost princess.
Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.
Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:
"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.
"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.
"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)
It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.
Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.
And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.
But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.
So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.
And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.
It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.
I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.
And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.
And then what happens next?
She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.
This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.
Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?
I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.
And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.
#zelda#zelink#totk thoughts#loz spoilers#totk spoilers#the legend of zelda#legend of zelda#tloz botw#tloz totk#loz totk#loz botw#loz tears of the kingdom#tears of the kindom spoilers#breath
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I'm listening
Rating: M
Warning: description of depression, depressive spiral, self loathing, soft sevika, sevika comforts you, sevikas love language is gift giving, words of affirmation is a very close second, I wrote this to cope with my emotions I hope that serves as a BIG WARNING, literally didnt sleep because I was writing this.
WC: 1.4
Darkness embraces you, literally and mentally, while you sit in your room. It's the dead of the night, the worst time for thoughts like the ones crowding your mind to exist. Each horrible thought stacked one atop the other, increasing in cruelty.
A knock comes at your door and you're ready to pretend you're not home but you hear a familiar voice calling your name.
“Open up. I got your fancy knife you asked for,” Sevika says on the other side of the door.
You remember you mentioned wanting a specific knife, and Sevika offered to find it for you. But you didn't expect her to show up at your door in the middle of the night and you certainly didn't want her visit to occur in the middle of a spiral. You'd ask her to leave it by the door but you don't want any of your neighbors to help themselves to your new weapon.
Shelving your self hatred, you make the exhausting walk to your door and open it for her. Sevika hears your footsteps approach and has the knife held out for you to take. She couldn't wait to give it to you, excited to see your reaction.
But when you open the door and glance down at the knife in her hand, you don't look delighted. Instead you're indifferent. Sevika suddenly questions if she somehow misremembered which knife she was supposed to get you.
“Did I get the wrong one?” She turns it over in her hand, checking the engraving on the hilt. She confirms it's the one you wanted.
“Nothing like that. It's beautiful. I'm just too tired to appreciate it. Haven't been able to sleep tonight,” you half-lie. You gingerly take it from her hand and try to close the door but she holds it open.
“Wait, I got you something else too,” she digs into her back pocket and pulls out a lighter. “For your candles,” she explains. Months ago she noticed you kept a candle lit inside your home so she brings you a new one whenever she can. A nice lighter felt like a long overdue addition.
Still, you don't react and it worries Sevika. This can't just be because you're tired. She's been around you enough to know what you're like when you're sleep deprived and this wasn't it. She knows better than to outright ask if you're okay so she tries a different approach.
“Is there something going on that I don't know about? I can tell you're not just tired,” she pries.
“Personal shit. Nothing to worry about. Thanks for the knife and lighter. I really do appreciate it.”
“Can you talk to me about it?”
“I don't know. You probably won't understand.” You're trying to reject her support but Sevika won't stand for it.
“Try me,” she urges and for a reason you cannot decipher, you pull your door wider so she can step in, shutting and locking it behind her. She's been in your home several times, walking over to your couch and taking a seat like it's her own. You timidly sit next to her, picking your cuticles and holding a staring contest with the floor. It takes a while for your words to find you.
“I uh… Just keep having bad thoughts. It starts out small like… I'm not going to get enough sleep in time for work tomorrow then it becomes I'm not good enough at my job because I can't get enough sleep at night and it makes me perform badly. Then it's just… I'm not good enough period because no matter what I do, I'll mess up in some way and I'm just running around aimless. Trying one thing after another like it'll ever work out. All I could think before you showed up was I'm a failure,” you unload a few of your thoughts to Sevika and she listens intently.
You're a bit caught by surprise when her strong arms wrapped around your shoulders. She gently pulls you across the couch and into her chest. Her right hand cups the back of your neck.
When she speaks there's only softness in her voice, “I understand. I can't stop you from having those thoughts but I understand. Tell me more,” she soothes, determined to help you through this. She's never heard you speak like this, never heard such harsh words from your mouth. And it killed her inside that they were about yourself.
You pull back to look up at her. Sevika was usually so stony, expression steeled into a scowl. But all of that roughness was gone. It's too intense and you look back to the floor.
“I feel ridiculous and repulsive and stupid and worthless and hopeless and empty and like there's no fix for it. It's like I'm remembering every bad memory at once.”
Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your head upwards gently so she could look at you properly.
“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to look me in the eyes okay?” she asks you, knowing she's asking for a lot at the moment. Even if it's a gesture as small as eye contact. You frown as you fight to pull your gaze from the floor. Sevika watches the struggle heartbroken but she knows you can do it. Eventually, your eyes meet hers and she sighs in relief.
Her fingers move from your chin to your cheek, holding you to keep your gaze on her, “Listen closely, okay? I need you to not look away. Can you do that? For me?”
“I'm listening,” you promise, now that you're looking at her you're not able to break from her hypnotic stare. She takes a moment to think of what to say.
“You’re a good person. Not just a good person, a great person. You don't deserve the blame you give yourself,” she affirms and you listen to every word. You face twitches, lips trying to pull into a frown and brows trying to pinch into a furrow. The words aren't enough to get past the wall but they weaken the foundation.
“You still listening?” She checks in, making sure you won't shut down. She knows she would try to tune out every word to avoid feeling their weight.
You nod, eyes welling with tears and sniffling up the snot that drips from your nose.
“Good. Keep listening,” she continued to hold eye contact with you, “You're smart, you're resourceful, you're good at what you do, you're appreciated, and you're loved.”
You can't stop the tears now. Sevika avoids lying, feeling like people only lie when they have something to gain and there's nothing she wants from most people. If anything, Sevika felt using the truth is what earns the most. With your tears streaming down your cheeks and falling onto her thumb, she earned the sight of seeing you vulnerable. Sevika has never held something so fragile before. You were so frail, looking up at her with glassy eyes that made her afraid if she moved a finger you would shatter. But when she wiped the tears from your cheek, you remained intact.
“I- I'm loved?” you heave between cries. Love is a strong word and it's rarely uttered in the Undercity so it's hard to know who really cares about you. You felt guilty for doubting Sevika's words, knowing she's trying her best to comfort you.
“You're loved by me,” her confession is groundbreaking. Her thumb moved to feel the stream of tears, not wiping them away but allowing them to exist.
“I never said it but I love you. And I have so many reasons to. Because you're more capable than you believe yourself to be. Because you're resilient. Because you mean the world to me. But mostly because you need love and I need to be the one who gives it to you.”
Sevika needs to give you everything you need, needs to be the one to hold your face like this every time you cry. Needs to be the one to tell you how beautiful and wonderful you are. She needs to be the one you seek. Be the one to bring you gifts because she can't help but think about you.
“I love you too, Sevika. I'm sorry but … I wish I knew the person you're describing,” you sobbed.
“No, don't apologize. You are that person, you might not see it that way but you are the person I'm describing. You'll see it one day. I promise. Don't let anyone, not even yourself, convince you that you're any other than the person I'm describing. Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, I'm listening.”
#sevika x you#arcane sevika x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#soft sevika#soft sevika because i cant stop writing her#once again I am warning you that this was entirely written to cope with my own negative emotions
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Omegaverse Lighter Ramblings
🍓That Omagaverse ask has had me in a chokehold, I haven’t have the time to write much of anything since finals week started butttt I have to get Alpha!Lighter out of my head and onto my blog IMMEDIATELY!!!
TW: Omegaverse related stuff lol (marking, breeding, excessive use of the word alpha 💀)
Info: Lighter x Reader; Alpha!Lighter; implied Omega!Reader; Spoilers for Lighter’s trust events
-Lighter is unequivocally an Alpha, let’s get that settled. There’s no way he’s anything but. He has that pure alpha male kinda vibe (jsbsishwos).
-Speaking seriously, he presented around when he turned thirteen, and he’s always been seen as an “Alpha’s Alpha”. He’s strong, competent, and he demands respect just by being in a room.
-It’s part of why he became a mercenary in the first place. He just knew he was built to lead a pack, no matter how dangerous the work they did was.
-He was a great head too, his pack loved him and he loved them. He did his absolute best all the time to be the best Alpha he could be, supporting all of his pack members and never discriminating based on their second genders.
-He vowed he wouldn’t become a monster like other Alphas. He heard the stories of pack leaders losing their minds or abusing the weakest members just because they could. It made him sick to his stomach, so he made sure his pack was safe under him.
-So their deaths hit him so much harder. He legitimately cannot handle it, the grief and the devastation turn him into a monster in the ring. He is the perfect picture of everything he swore he would never become in those years, and they’re particularly difficult for him to reflect upon.
-Joining the SoC is also made harder because he’s kind of needing to recover from literally just living on his instincts 24/7. He avoids the girls like the plague cause he doesn’t want to hurt them — it’s his job to do the opposite.
-Slowly, slowlyyyy, he warms up to them and he lets them in and he doesn’t realize how much he missed having a pack to call his own until he has them. This time, though, he doesn’t want to lead and he doesn’t have to.
-(In case anyone is wondering Caesar is an Alpha (no duh), Piper is a beta, Burnice is… Omaga(?), and Lucy is an Omega. Lighter loves them so much, despite the distance he keeps, he hold nothing but respect and admiration for his pack.)
-It’s a good deal he’s got going too. He gets to have a pack full of friends and a home to call his own… and he can also take out any pent up aggression in his fights.
-Okay with all that out of the way, I’ll get into the shit you wanna hear.
-Firstly Lighter smells… peculiar? He’s got this woody kinda undertone and there’s a sharp scent of gasoline on top of it. He smells like a fire before it’s burning. It’s not bad, but it’s really intense and it can be… too much for most people.
-It’s something that lingers in the air even after he leaves. He always tries his best to contain it, but he can’t help that he naturally secretes a lot of his scent. The girls don’t complain, and it’s a good way of keeping people in check, so he never thinks too much of it.
-Though he does notice the odd looks he gets in Lumina Square, he just figures it’s because of the way he dresses or some other thing.
-It’s not till you point out that his scent is so strong that he realizes. You frame it as a good thing (because of course you love how your alpha smells), and he starts like secreting his scent more when you’re around 😭
-Speaking of you fucking REEK of Lighter. He is big on scenting, leans hard into that jealous protective side he has. If you smell like him, people probably won’t mess with you.
-If someone is stupid enough to do so, they probably won’t be around long enough to warn others not to, honestly.
-Imagine regular Lighter’s protectiveness turner up to like ten. He does NOT fuck around when it comes to his mate, not even a little. Those violent instincts come out tendfold when his mate is in trouble.
-So, yeah he scents you a lot, and he’s big big big on marking. You’ve gotta have a visible mating mark somewhere on your person or else Lighter’s gonna be antsy until he can get one on you.
-His favorite ones to leave are on the juncture between your neck and your jaw. The mark is big, but it’s still something that you can hide easily for more professional things.
-He’s quite possessive of you, too. He’s never had a real mate to call his own before, and you are everything he’s ever wanted and more. Excuse him for being a little obsessive.
-His favorite thing in the world, though, is your scent. He practically begs you to scent him every morning and every night. It rarely sticks thanks to how strong his own is, but it’s the idea that he wants your scent so badly that’s so flattering.
-He also wants you to mark him, and he doesn’t care where. His neck? Perfect! His chest? Wonderful! His thighs? Knock yourself out!
-He does LIKE having matching mating marks though, so he’d be very flattered to have your mark in the same place as his.
-Ah, and finally, let’s talk about his rut shall we?
-It’s intense, like worryingly so. It lasts about a week and a half, exceptionally long even for alphas, and it’s miserable to deal with alone.
-He used to take suppressants for them when he was younger, but during his time in the ring he just learned to lock himself away and deal with it.
-There’s little to no relief during his ruts when he’s alone. He can fuck his hand or use toys and cum like that and he’ll be fully erect within a minute later.
-He gets these awful fevers that, the first time it happened, the girls thought he was legitimately dying until Bug Daddy realized what was going on and chased them off.
-He really struggles to keep himself mentally in check during his ruts, so he usually locks himself away until it’s over for everyone’s well-being.
-When he gets with you, though, it’s… different. They’re MORE intense, like to the point it concerns him a lot. He connects pretty quickly that it’s because his alpha knows that he has a mate now, and it wants its mate to help it out.
-He’s kinda afraid to let you help, though. He’s not exactly coherent or even remotely considerate of anything during his rut. All he’s thinking about is how badly he needs to fuck whatever hole is in front of him (specifically, how badly he wants to fuck your hole and stuff it full of his pups).
-You’re insistent about it though, and he can only say come up with so many excuses before he finally gives in.
-It’s literally life changing, I’m not joking.
-He gives you a whole rundown about being safe and how you need to put yourself first no matter what and blah blah blah.
-He’s so fucking sweet to you during his rut, I’m not joking. It’s literally like his alpha is sedated by your presence, and he’s so incredibly obsessed with keeping you happy and satisfied with him.
-Anything you want it’s yours so long as he gets to be with you, okay. Just the smell of your skin is enough to make him sigh in relief. Let alone the touch of your skin.
-He’ll split open your legs and eat and eat and eat until you’re sobbing for him to do anything but. He can’t help that you taste soooo good on his tongue. He can’t get enough of that delicious flavor you’ve got, not when he’s so far buried into it now.
-God don’t even mention how you feel around him. It’s actual heaven, you letting him rut into your sweet little hole, all because you love him. All because you want to help him out. Oh, it has his alpha purring in delight.
-So many positions, most of which have him bent over you so he can coo in your ear how good you feel. How he can’t wait to see your tummy swell. How much he adores being inside you.
-It still takes him a while to cum, despite how satisfied he is being inside of you. It’s just how his body is, but when he does cum it’s A LOT. If he’s not knotting you you are almost drowning in it.
-Forbid if you play with it, he’ll be hard again in less than ten seconds and ready to go again.
-When he cums, though, he always leaves a nice bloodied mark to enjoy for later. Your whole neck is pretty much black and blue from how many he leaves.
-That’s okay though, you enjoy it too, which only motivates him to keep going more and more until you tell him to stop.
-You’re his cute little mate, all his to mark up and stuff up. The way you squirm when his knot swells inside you makes his toes curl.
-And when you whine about being “too full” as he pumps load after load inside he can’t help but laugh at you. You wanted this after all, don’t complain when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for.
-Having you during his rut shortens it a significant amount, and it usually only lasts four to five days so long as you’re available.
-After the fact he’s so doting, feeling so bad for splitting you apart and stuffing you too full. You usually need a few days to recover together, and it’s full of nothing but pampering and loving from your oh so adoring mate.
#bunni babbles 🍓#lighter x reader#lighter zzz x reader#lighter zzz#alpha lighter#ugh alpha is so cringe now
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Birdie
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.
Word Count: 2.9k
Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"
A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)
You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!
Songs Mentioned in This Fic:
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters
G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer
The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.
Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.
Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.
You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.
It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.
All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.
Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.
“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”
Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.
Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.
“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”
You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”
Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.
An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.
“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.
You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.
“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”
They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.
“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.
“He brings you coffee every morning.”
“I thought he does that for everyone.”
“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”
“He takes care of his appearance!”
“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”
“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”
“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”
“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”
“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”
“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”
“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”
“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”
“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”
That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.
“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.
“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.
“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”
You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.
“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.
Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.
“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.
Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”
“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.
“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”
You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.
“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”
You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.
One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.
The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.
He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way
He had a boogie style that no one else could play
He was the top man at his craft
But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft
Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.
One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.
Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,
“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”
She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.
“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”
“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.
“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”
The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.
The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.
You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.
Meanwhile….
Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.
“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”
Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”
As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?
A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.
Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.
DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”
“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.
I’ll catch you up
When I’ve emptied my cup
When I’ve worn out my friends
When I’ve burned out both ends
Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.
His little Birdie.
“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.
When I’m pure like a dove
When I’ve learned how to love
He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.
As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”
It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.
John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.
Then the world starts back up and carries on.
Right here in the old therebefore
When nothing is left anymore
Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.
The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.
Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.
Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.
“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.
His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.
Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.
“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”
Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.
His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.
“I know, Buck. I know.”
Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.
“She kinda snuck up on me.”
#masters of the air#mota#john egan x reader#john egan x oc#john bucky egan#john bucky egan x reader#bucky egan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#john egan x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky egan fanfiction#mota spoilers#ken lemmons#gale cleven#buck and bucky#buck x bucky#john egan#bucky egan#crank cruikshank#charles cruikshank#curt biddick#buck cleven#gale buck cleven#harry crosby#bubbles payne#hbo war#hbo war fanfic#hbo war fandom#hbo war oc
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redamancy | steve harrington
Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)
A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.
divider by firefly-graphics
i. the promise
"Would you ever get married?"
You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.
You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!
"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."
You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.
"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."
You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.
"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.
"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."
You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."
"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."
"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."
"I guess."
You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.
"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.
Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."
"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."
Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.
"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."
Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."
"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"
"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."
You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."
Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."
"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"
"Not even to her."
You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.
"I'd marry you," you say.
Steve's eyebrows shoot up.
"What?"
"Like, if you were in a pinch."
He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.
"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."
"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."
"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."
"I hope she kept the receipt."
Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.
"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"
"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."
"I scoop ice cream for a living."
You level him with a look.
"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."
His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.
"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.
Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.
"Let's make a pact," you say softly.
He meets your eye. "A pact?"
"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."
"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."
You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."
"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.
"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.
"I can't wait till I'm thirty."
"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"
"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.
You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"
Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!
Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.
"Do you mean it?" he asks.
"Of course I do."
"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"
"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."
"You'll marry me?"
"I will."
"Swear on it."
You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.
You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?
"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."
"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."
"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."
"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"
"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."
Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.
"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."
Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.
"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"
"Always."
Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.
"'Kay. See you."
You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.
Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.
ii. the wound
The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.
Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.
You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.
Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.
She looks away, and your not-smile falls.
"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.
The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.
Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.
"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.
"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"
The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.
"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.
"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."
They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.
So he did. And now you're here.
You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.
"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.
"Come sit," you say.
"I need to see him," he tells you.
"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"
"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."
You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.
Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.
At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.
"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."
Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.
A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.
"Go on."
Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.
"Go see him."
You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.
“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.
“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.
Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.
"Yes, he does."
She holds out her hand.
You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.
“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."
God, are you really that obvious?
You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.
Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.
Steve’s eyes lock with yours.
“Hey,” is all you say.
“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.
“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”
You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?
You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.
The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.
You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.
“Robin called me,” you say.
Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Your breath is punched out of you.
“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”
His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.
You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.
“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”
You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.
“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."
He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."
You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.
They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.
But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.
You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.
His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.
"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”
"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."
You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.
iii. the brand
“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.
“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.
“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.
It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.
“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.
“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”
“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”
Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.
“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.
“Me?!”
“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”
“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”
“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”
“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.
As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.
“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.”
“Are you okay?”
He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.
“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”
“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”
He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.
"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."
"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.
"Pot, kettle."
"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."
"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.
"If you get us there in one piece, yes."
Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.
"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"
"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.
Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.
"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."
"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.
You scoff. "More like the other way around."
He pouts. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.
"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.
You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"
"No!" all three say.
"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.
Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.
"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"
"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"
"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.
You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.
"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.
"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.
"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."
"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."
You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.
But this? This is way, way beyond that.
"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"
You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.
"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."
Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."
"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."
Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"
You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.
"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"
You wince at the wording.
"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."
You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."
Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.
"Right, so I'll just…"
You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.
"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."
"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.
Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.
"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.
Steve smiles gently. "Hey."
His tone is fond. You feel sick.
"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.
He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.
"You two look cozy."
"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."
Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.
It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.
You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.
“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”
Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.
He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.
“Really, Munson?”
“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”
“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.
Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.
God, you’re never living this down.
“Y’okay?”
Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.
“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”
“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.
Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.
The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.
Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.
Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.
Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.
He looks like he's yours.
"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.
He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.
"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."
He relaxes.
"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."
"Uh-huh."
You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.
The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.
Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.
Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.
"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."
You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.
iv. the secret
It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.
Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.
You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.
"Do you think he'll come back?"
You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.
Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.
Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.
You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.
"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.
You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.
"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."
He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.
God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?
"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.
Steve squeezes your hand harder.
"No one's gonna die."
You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.
"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"
"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.
"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.
"I can go back to my room."
Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.
"Don't," he says.
"Okay."
You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.
The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.
His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.
It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.
+ and, finally, the first.
"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.
"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."
He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.
"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"
You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.
"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.
"You're funny, that's what."
"I am?"
"You sound like somebody's grandpa."
"I do not!"
"Do too," you say sweetly.
"Do not."
"Do too infinity."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."
"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."
"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.
You smile. Steve shakes his head.
"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."
"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.
"And you don't push the cart."
You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."
"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"
"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.
You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.
“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”
“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”
You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.
“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”
You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.
“What?” you ask.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”
“Steve, seriously. What is it?”
He shakes his head again.
“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”
He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.
The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.
When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.
“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.
You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.
Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.
“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”
“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”
You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.
“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.
“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.
“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.
Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”
You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.
“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”
You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.
“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”
You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.
“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”
You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”
You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.
Now you know: tenderly.
He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.
You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.
“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.
“Huh?”
“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”
You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.
“What?” he asks.
“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.
Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.
You hope you’ll lose track at some point.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fluff#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things#stranger things x you
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cherry.
pair : levi x fem!reader
warning(s) : pregnant sex, pregnancy (obviously), fingering, a lil vanilla, breeding, cream-pie, squirting, a lil degradation, humiliation , takes place during the paradis vs. marley/paradis invading marley arc
levi skillfully scribbles his signature on another report before grabbing the corner of the paper to set it in his finished pile of work to work on the next one. he's been working nonstop all day. and the day before that, and the day before that. overall, he's just been working hard lately, but not on purpose.
for some reason, his work pile has doubled and he has no time to breathe and sit back. no time to play with your hair. no time for you at all. i guess it's expected, after all paradis has just recently basically invaded marley so there's much to report on.
he feels frustrated, though. you're currently 6 months pregnant, and the only times he can really see you is when he passes by you in the hallway, at meetings, or at bedtime when you are basically half-asleep, body tired from all the heavy stress the baby puts on you.
not only are you emotional due to all of the pregnancy hormones, but you've also been having to take time off from your duty as a soldier/captain, which hit hard because it made you feel useless. and not only that, you can't even really see levi any of these days. he imagines how miserable you must feel.
suddenly, the door to his office is creaked open, followed by soft pats of feet walking towards him. he turns his head around to look at the intruder, only to be met by the relieving sight of you. he raises his eyebrow in confusion, "...it's really late, aren't you tired? you should go to bed." he urges, a little concerned. you're wearing nothing but a flimsy white nightgown and slippers. you have a light brown cloak draped over your shoulders for comfort. if he looked close enough, he could see the outline of your body underneath. the slippers are a little smaller than your feet, so he assumes they are his. how cute, he thinks.
you don't respond to any of his words. you waddle over to him, and when you finally reach him, you lean down to place a soft kiss on his forehead. "i miss you, i can't go to bed without you lev'." you pout, eyes full yearning and love. he sighs, today he'll let you off for not going to bed on time. "i know. i miss you too." he replies, hand taking yours so he can place a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.
"no.. not in that way.." you whisper out. levi looks up at you once more, eyebrows raised in confusion. why is your face so red? are you sick? should he call a doctor? his eyes widen with surprise when you take his hand in yours, guiding it down underneath your short dress to your core. you place his index and middle finger against your panty clad pussy. he can literally feel your heat, throbbing with want.
oh, he thinks. he just realized the two of you have yet to even have sex in almost a month. "oh.. i'm sorry y/n." he pitifully says, scowling at your discomfort. "can we..?" you mutter, eyes tearing up. "i want it - you. really bad." you sniffle.
he softly smiles at your desperation. without another word, he pushes your cotton panties to the side, index finger finding your clit, rubbing soft circles. you moan out the contact, arm coming to support yourself on his chair. "lev'.." you cry when his middle finger finds your pulsating hole, slowly entering. his fingers continue playing with your pussy, not long afterwords does he slide his ring finger in as well.
he's teasing you. his fingers slowly pump in and out of you, dragging them in so deep but not deep enough like usual to rub against that spot. "levi.." you cry out, "stop teasing me. please, i need you." this is your breaking point, tears finally flowing down your cheeks.
he lets out a tch at your whining before he suddenly pulls out his fingers, ignoring your cries of displeasure. he places his hands on your waist to guide you on his lap. "you're so pitiful." he says, hands undoing his belt and fly so he could pull his cock out. he pumps it lightly before guiding it to your sopping pussy, sighing with relief when his tip pushes in your warm embrace.
your back arches with that. his hands pull your hips into him slowly before you're taking all of him. hip to hip, he connects his lips with yours, hand coming up to support the back of your nape. he supposes that since your pregnant n'all, he'll be nice and do all the work for you. what a gentleman.
he pulls away, letting you limp your silly head into his shoulder as he rocks his hips into yours. his ears listen to the sounds of your lewd cunt slosh with every thrust of his. "you're so wet. i've barely done anything. kinda shameful of you." he teases, free hand coming to grip at your thigh.
he feels your adorable baby bump rub against his stomach as he rocks into you, hand traveling upwards from your thigh to your bump to rub soft circles. he smiles with pride, your bump has gotten bigger. that must mean it's healthy right? healthy and well-grown.
"how are you going to be a good mother when your pregnant and so desperate for cock?" he bluntly said. "can't even go without a month of cock so you have to interrupt my work and beg me to touch you." you whine at his words, shoulders lightly shaking as you sob in pleasure. "no.. i'm a good mommy. just missed you."
he picks up his pace suddenly, thrusting his hard cock into your cunt so deeply he's finally giving in to your whines and hitting that spot. "no, you just missed my cock, like a bitch in heat." he hisses, eyes clenching shut when he feels your pussy pulsate around him. you're so sensitive, you're practically sucking him in.
he grunts when he feels his orgasm near. "bet you wanna be bred again." he taunts, "bet you wanna be bred so well, like a bitch, hm?" he questions. it wasn't much of a question, though. he already knew your answer.
like clockwork, you instantly shake your head, mindlessly babbling words of affirmation and pleas. "yesh- i wanna." you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm hits you when he assaults your sensitive spot so roughly. "of course a whore like you would." he spits out. "can't even make a full sentence because of your stupid mommy brain."
suddenly, he's forcing you to take him as deep as possible as he cums deep inside you, burly hands gripping your hips down. you squeal at the sudden fullness, and before you realize it, you're squirting all over his lap. creating a sloppy mess over his thighs and lower abdomen.
he catches his breath, body stilling as you're limp in his arms. "damn brat." he pants, hand coming to rub soothing circles into your sore back. he places a sweet kiss to your shoulder. he'll remember to set up another office rendezvous again.
if you like my work, please leave a like and repost with tags :)
#attack on titan#levi ackerman#aot x reader#attack on titan smut#attack on titan x reader#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman x reader#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman angst#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader smut#levi aot#⨳ breeding#⨳ pregnant sex#⨳ soft sex
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What do you think Aventurine would be like as a boss?
Aventurine's first character story tells us that people both outside the IPC and internal to the Strategic Investment Department are explicitly racist toward him, so I would say first that I suspect Aventurine's team is much, much smaller than other Stonehearts like Topaz. For example, we constantly see Topaz's dumb "support squad" following her around in most of the events she shows up in, while we've never been introduced to a single "Aventurine support squad" member.
My suspicion is that, between the rampant racism and the undoubtedly common rumors about Aventurine's dangerous behavior, very few people are even willing to be put on his team in the first place. I suspect he's much more likely to be paired up with one or two "strategic partners" (like Ratio) and sent to handle things that way, rather than actually having a large group of underlings he directly supervises.
But just logistically speaking I'm sure he does have a few underlings, and I think... He's probably a very difficult person to work for, for a couple reasons:
He will almost certainly beat assholes to the punch. If a majority of the people who have been assigned to work with him don't want to be there, you can bet he's not going to wait around for new people to prove they are racist garbage. I imagine that, for the most part, he's off-putting and offensive to new people from the get-go. You ask which desk is yours and he just goes "Oh, feel free to set your things anywhere!" then turns around like: "Wowwww. Jim, this rookie is trying to steal the desk you've had for ten years! How inconsiderate our new friend is proving to be~!" New people on his team probably have the worst few weeks of their lives. (Because... If people are going to hate him on principle alone, he might as well give them a reason, right?) However, this has the effect of weeding out most of the people who are incapable of dealing with Aventurine's antics, so I imagine that the few who persevere through the hazing are probably genuinely decent folks. Those that make it past the initial "Let's see how much you hate Sigonians and disrespect me personally" vibe check probably end up on Aventurine's good side, and I think he eventually eases off his newbies after a while. (Not before they've proven their exceedingly high tolerance for shenanigans and even higher ceiling for shock factor, though. If a new employee makes it past the first month of working for Aventurine, literally nothing else will ever phase them. An elephant-sized Warp Trotter could warp them all six galaxies over and they'd just be like "Anyone got a working cell? I need to tell my babysitter I won't be back by 9.")
I think he's just never there. Absentee boss in the extreme. It's not that he ever slacks or doesn't do the work--it's just that he's constantly going off and doing the missions all on his own. It doesn't matter how many times the higher-ups assign him to do a team task, tell him he has to take the full squad... He just scampers off and does the deal entirely on his own, comes back covered in blood, and is like "Hey guys, I took care of the problem; enjoy some comp time on me!" I don't think he drags his average-level underlings into his dangerous gambles; I think he just does all the work with their clients by himself or with a high-caliber partner. You would think this would make him a great boss to work for, but I implore to put yourself in such an employee's shoes: You go into the office every morning only to see your to-do list is empty. Your boss isn't there to give you any new direction. After twiddling your thumbs for four hours, you find out the reason he isn't in the office this morning is that he's recovering from betting he could take an entire pack of Borisin in a fist fight. He's not in the hospital because of the fight (which he won). He's in the hospital because he was then promptly shot in the back by the guy he was betting with. Why is your life like this? Why must you be subjected to the soap opera of your boss's own self-destructive spiral?
Even when he's around, he's probably weirdly awkward. Don't get me wrong, I bet when he's in a good mood he throws all kinds of extravagant parties in the office, and his employees would never lack for bonuses and perks. But I think he has never really bothered to learn--or perhaps simply does not care--about normal managerial behaviors and boundaries. Like, you slip up and tell him your mother-in-law is in the hospital. He comes back five minutes later to tell you he's just bought six bouquets (sent from your address), commissioned a personally embossed card for her with your monogram, and contracted the services of the best-reviewed individualized medical team in Pier Point under your name. He's patting himself on the back for being an incredibly thoughtful boss. You don't know how to tell him that you haven't spoken to your mother-in-law in years, not since her last attempt to poison you. Every six months he buys the whole team new cars. You have no idea what to do with all these cars. It's too many cars. Put some cars back. He calls everyone his "friend," but even after working for him for years, you still have absolutely no idea about his likes, dislikes, or hobbies outside of the IPC. You could not name his favorite food if someone put a gun to your head. Does he exist outside of the workplace? You literally can't imagine him anywhere but on a mission or at a poker table. He's constantly bringing an "I am the party!" vibe to the room, but everyone else is a bored 8-5 worker who doesn't have a drop of enthusiasm left in their veins. It's like when a singer asks the audience to cheer along with a song, but nobody in the audience makes a peep. Absolutely no one in the IPC cubicles can match his particular freak. Aventurine's a smooth-talker and a street-smart cookie for sure, but something about the way his smile looks like it's made out of plastic when anyone tries to engage him in chitchat at the water cooler gives you the vague impression that he's probably never had an actual friend in his life. If "uncanny valley" was a vibe a workplace could have, Aventurine's office would have it.
Long story longer, I think Aventurine has very few people willing to tolerate him as a boss, whether because they are racist or simply because his quirks are just too quirky. However, I like to imagine the few who have hung in there are ride or die. You know they have an "Aventurine Protection Squad" group chat. They probably all wear peacock-teal and gold accessories in solidarity. They have definitely disappeared people for talking shit on their boss before. Aventurine has no idea how much they actually like him.
#honkai star rail#aventurine#character analysis#honkai star rail headcanons#aventurine headcanons#aventurine as a boss#is just like not having a boss at all#except when it comes time for performance reviews#and instead of putting in valid paperwork#he just gives you solid gold bars#“only three and a half bars this quarter Eliza; might want to pick up the slack”#also#I got a really interesting asks about my thoughts on Ratiorine#but they're kind of complicated#so it will take me a bit more time to answer those
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hey um trans dude here um looks at u w my big round eyes. could you do some characters of ur choice reacting to their trans male partner wanting to/getting a phalloplasty? im working to get one myself which inspired me to send this ask
I love my trans followers
TW: A homophobic slur, Mentions of surgery and Dysphoria/Dysmorphia
Characters: Ramattra, Asgore, Mohg, Wendell
Wendell is more of a crackpost
Ramattra
When you tell him, he'll be quiet as he thinks for a while
"I'll be back," he says as he abruptly stands and leaves the room
Your heart sinks as you fear the worst
He comes back within minutes and drops a book into your lap before sitting next to you
Confused, you flip it open only to yelp and drop it
It's a dick catalog
An Omnic dick catalog to be exact
He chuckles as he likes it back up
"There are a few exquisite models here, pet. Let's get you one."
He flips to a page and shows you
It's the model he has
Your face burns, hiding your face in your hands as you lean on him
"You're awful," you whine
You peak through your fingers
"Do they have glowing ones?"
"let's see"
Ramattra will be there throughout the surgery, making sure nothing goes wrong
If you ever feel dysphoric, he'll immediately start to comfort you
"Sweet, beautiful boy, I'm so proud of you"
Asgore Dreemurr
He's so happy for you
Be prepared to be pulled into a crushing bear hug
He's with you every step of the way
He'll sit down with you and plan out everything. From the days before the surgery to the aftermath and recovery
However, he'll be sure to mention any monster magic options for you to consider
Whatever you pick in the end, he'll support you
Plenty of kisses and cuddles throughout the process
He knows surgery is scary for humans, so he's sure to make you comfortable every chance he gets
Tea, snacks, and massages galore
After you get your surgery, Asgore will be a nervous wreck
Doting on you like a mother hen, he won't leave your side for a second
Mohg, Lord of Blood
The moment you tell him, he'll have his followers work on finding ways to give you a dick
Riiiighhttt after you give him a few heirs
Unless you don't want to
He'll be pouty but ultimately respects your decision
Him and Varre are your biggest support pillars before and after the process
Mohg literally doesn't let you do anything by yourself
He carries you around everywhere you need to be
"You shouldn't waste your energy, dearest"
Varre will be even worse
"What size would you prefer your phallus to be, lambkin?"
After the surgery, Mohg will keep you in his bed for a long time
Even when you're fully healed, he'll insist you stay resting
Cage his arms around you and nuzzle close like a clingy puppy
Wendell
He's a bit confused, but after explaining it to him, he'll definitely be your number one supporter
"Is there a dick store we go to or...?"
Yeah he's still a bit confused
He'll cling to you during matches and ask you tons of questions
Even during gunfire
"OMG, can we get matching dicks?"
Please be patient with him
If there's time between the storm moving, he'll be sure to give you lots of attention
"MY BOYFRIEND'S GETTING A DICK!"
He screams out in the empty building you two are stocking up in
Or so you thought
"You homos make me sick," a voice calls out, the clacking of heels hitting the floor echo through the area
You two turn to the voice
"INTERNATIONAL POP SENSATION ARIANA GRANDE?!?!?!?" You both exclaim in unison
"Yuh," she says, whipping her hair as she aims a bazooka at you two
#male!reader#trans reader#ftm reader#male reader#Wendell x reader#wendell fortnite#asgore dreemurr x reader#asgore dreemurr#asgore x reader#ramattra x reader#ramattra#mohg lord of blood#mohg x reader#elden ring x reader#overwatch x reader#fortnite x reader#undertale x reader
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Could you do a romantic Naoya Zen'in with a female!sorceror!reader please! Thank you!
Oh he's going to be such an asshole... so I hope you know what you're expecting- I'm on Chapter 143, so some info may be wrong.
Possible JJK Manga Spoilers within this for chapters after where the anime (Season 2) leaves off!
Yandere! Naoya Zenin with Female Sorcerer! Darling
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Controlling behavior, Sexism, Condescending/Degrading behavior, Possessive behavior, Attempted forced marriage/courting, Stalking, Violence, Blood, Murder, Toxic masculinity, Threats, Forced relationship.
You just know he's going to be horrible to deal with due to his family's principles.
The Zenin family canonically has sexist views, seeing women as just wives.
This is seen with Maki and Mai in the series, Naoya's language only confirms it.
It's canon that he views women as wives and thinks if they aren't three paces behind a man, they should be stabbed in the back (Actual quote, you wish I was joking.)
So it's safe to say Naoya is going to be hell.
He's such an entitled brat, tone and behavior often dripping in arrogance.
He would refuse to see you as skilled.
Being around Naoya as a female Jujutsu Sorcerer often comes with... comments.
Comments literally no one asked for.
Naoya would be degrading and condescending towards you.
He'd often view you as weak.
You could never measure up to him in a battle.
Like he did with Maki and Mai, he likes to break you down.
But here's the worst part.
Naoya would be the type of person to bully you because he likes you.
He definitely finds himself wanting your attention, so he'll get it in any way he can.
It's so easy to hate him, he doesn't even mind all that much at first.
Naoya would hunt you down just to mess with you.
At first it's just because he finds your goals to be stronger preposterous.
Although... before he even realizes it, he may follow you because he finds you attractive.
He likes that you're strong for a woman and might even see you as good wife material.
Naoya stalks you around, watching you kill Curses before stepping in to essentially steal the glory.
It's like in some twisted way he's trying to impress you.
Naoya treats you like you can't do anything alone.
He acts like he should be the man in your life.
He's so possessive... he thinks he owns you.
If he doesn't, he knows he will at some point.
Naoya is a nuisance to you due to both his beliefs... and the growing attraction he has.
You hate his guts... but Naoya feels he can't live without your attention.
He loves it when you look at him, he loves it when you react to him, he finds it cute when you fight him.
He believes he is leagues above you in power... yet adores you all the same.
Naoya would definitely put you down, then try to pull you into relying on him.
He tells you you're weak on your own... that you need him in your life.
In reality, it's the other way around.
Naoya feels he needs you.
However, Naoya is a prideful man and would never want to admit to that.
Naoya would often claim himself to be your man, be that boyfriend or husband.
In fact, Naoya may just jump straight into husband territory.
He's unwilling to believe you have any other choice.
Hate his guts? Sure... but you'll be married someday in his eyes.
He hates it when you disobey him to make him upset.
You want nothing to do with him, you want to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer without Naoya breathing down your neck.
Naoya is a Sorcerer who quickly turns to violence to get what he wants.
In the manga we see him quickly deciding to kill Megumi and Yuji to become head of the Zenin clan.
Imagine if you had a suitor already? Y'know... one who supports your career?
Naoya won't stand for that.
I can see Naoya stalking you until seeing your lover, only to confront them.
As I said, he feels he's the only man and partner for you.
So Naoya would probably kill them... with no regrets... in front of you.
The blood covering his clothes means nothing to him.
All that matters is making you his.
He's such a hypocrite, telling you to rely on him as if you need him.
You're capable on your own, but it's like he refuses to see that.
He wants you to listen to his every order, to beg to be with him.
In reality he's projecting, wanting to do that to you yet his pride won't let him.
At some point he gives in to the fact he loves you.
He loves you, he needs you, why can't you obey him?
The fact you're a woman who won't listen to him breaks him at times.
Yet he's determined to make you his wife.
It doesn't matter what you think of him...
Naoya is a selfish entitled brat who's used to getting what he wants.
He knows at some point he'll get you.
It doesn't matter how much blood he spills to make it happen... or if he has to break you mentally.
He'll make you his... his perfect little wife... who needs him as much as he needs you.
Naoya could drag you into his arms kicking and screaming, the blood on his clothes staining your skin as he grins down at you.
He doesn't care if he has to drag you to your wedding bound.
Naoya knows he'll have you... that you'll be his and you'll give him strong heirs...
You'll learn your role like every other woman in his clan... forced to stay by his side like the good wife he knows you are.
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Imagine a meet cute with a minotaur while you're grocery shopping.
You're in the skincare and beauty products aisle, a bottle of Mino's Magic and one of Kram's Jam in your hands, your eyes scrolling over the ingredients of the two skin lotions - both containing the miracle-working minotaur's milk, which apparently has anti-aging and moisturising properties that work particularly well on human skin. You've never tried any before, but you'd be down to give it a try if only you knew which one to go for...
"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that one."
You're startled by the sound of a grave but warm voice coming from behind you and you look up only to have your sight completely blocked by a furry muscular chest. It takes a moment for you to crane up your neck enough to meet the amused gaze of the biggest minotaur you've ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes onto. He's also incredibly handsome-
"Huh-??"
"Mino's Magic." he nods at the bottle in your right hand, smirking at your confused and flushed face. "It's got chemicals in it. I wouldn't recommend it."
"Oh. Oh! Okay... Uhm-" You do your best to tear your eyes off of him and focus back on the bottles in your hands. You somehow manage to keep your cool despite your quickened heartbeat. "W-what about this one?"
You hear him huff as if in mock before he steps closer, your shoulder bumping in his side as he leans in to point to the ingredients section of the second lotion, his thick finger brushing against your hand.
"See? It only has 40% of the good stuff. The rest is horseshit. Quite literally."
You blink at him. "What?"
The minotaur barks a laugh, his body so close to yours that you can feel his abdomen tense and shake against your shoulder.
"Kram's got six sons, none pure-breed. Their mother is a weremare. Hence the horseshit."
You chuckle awkwardly in response, placing both the bottles back on the shelf.
"I guess I should have looked better into these products before thinking of buying anything..."
The minotaur gives you a long assessing look, his eyes twinkling in amusement and genuine curiosity.
"It's your first time?"
"Yeah..."
"Do you mind if I give you an advice?"
"I don't mind..."
"Nothing you find on these shelves will ever be 100% pure and reliable, that's why you should only buy homemade lotions made by a minotaur you know and trust. "
"That makes sense but unfortunately I don't know any minotaur..."
His lips instantly curl up in a bigger grin and his chest seems to puff out in pride as he extends his huge calloused hand your way.
"I'm Gust. Short for Gustokis."
You blink back at him, momentarily taken aback by his sudden introduction. Your hand reaches out for his instinctively, and you blurt out your answer quickly after, almost tripping over your words.
"I-I'm Y/N-!"
"Well, Y/N..." His eyes narrow and crinkle as he smirks, his huge hand envelops yours in a warm and firm hold. "Now you know me."
He leans down towards you, his snout almost touching your face and making your breath hitch. "And I'm ready to show you how trustworthy I am. How about a chat over a coffee?"
🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me
#this sounded funnier in my head#idk lmao#monsters#monster lover#exophilia#monster love#monster fucker#monster x human#terato#monster kink#teratophillia#minotaur x human#minotaurs#minotaur#monster boyfriend#monster x reader#monster scenario#monster imagine#terato x reader#teratosnack#monster fluff
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Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner - although today it is less unhinged and more of a watertight analysis.
What I am about to present you is something most people have probably already noticed, but it has been three months and I still lose my mind while going through the final fifteen frame by frame (which is a normal thing normal people like us do, right? right).
You literally cannot convince me my following meta is wrong, and the only person whose criticism I will accept on this post is Michael Sheen and Michael Sheen ONLY. If you're not Michael Sheen (hi Michael Sheen who probably has a secret tumblr account) then your guess is as good as mine, though again, I think mine is solid.
So.
We all love and hate Aziraphale's "I forgive you", but what I find even more painful is the fact that before that he almost said "I love you". Then he stops himself and changes it, and the amount of micro-expressions on his face as he makes that decision is my current cause of death.
Here's the clip as evidence #1, and while it can definitely support itself, let's dive into the pain a little more, shall we?
One important thing I noticed is that Aziraphale doesn't look at Crowley while he stutters his way through his initial reaction. He blinks up at him for a few frames before averting his eyes again and only holds eye contact after the almost-confession (from here on referred to as IL-).
This is Aziraphale holding eye contact with Crowley (left) vs. him looking away (right):
The frame on the left is from the I forgive you (IFY) part of the scene, the other one from right before IL-. If we go through the above clip little by little we will find that he avoids Crowley's face the entire time and his gaze slips further and further down, which I interpret as him overthinking/trying to come up with something to respond to this entire situation.
He is overwhelmed and surprised, caught between his two main desires: Crowley and being a Good Angel.
Combing through the frames, we can actually nail down exactly when Aziraphale first makes eye contact before the IL- and when he stops. Keep the above comparison in mind! The angle is slightly different because his chin is lower and he straightens up throughout the scene.
So! This is where he starts looking at Crowley:
And this is where he stops:
Hard to see? Let's zoom in on his eyes (numbers are the file names):
Now, you might ask me "Alex, this is all fine, although a bit insane, but why is any of this important?"
Because, fellow tumblr user and good omens enthusiast, I think that looking at Crowley is what changes his mind about what to say.
He doesn't look at him -> about to confess his feelings.
He looks at him -> says the absolutely worst possible thing.
Partly to hurt him because they're both lashing out at each other during this argument, but he looks at Crowley, looks at the person that just kissed him, that told him they could have been an us, that wants him and has always wanted him, screw everyone else.
He looks at Crowley and he wants to say l love you but then what? Once he says those words, he can't leave. He just can't.
We have to remember that they have existed within a complicated dance, a game that they have been playing for centuries without ever telling each other what that game actually is, what the rules are - because they couldn't. It was based entirely on trust and knowing the other person well enough to play it safe.
Crowley just flipped the playing board. Nothing is the way it should be, he is refusing to do their dance, refusing to play. He is looking at him and daring him to stop trying to put the pieces back on the board. The only thing neither of them has done yet is actually say I love you out loud.
Saying those words would mean stepping away from the playing board and acknowledging the room they have been playing in. It would mean saying fuck you to heaven, yes, but it would also force Aziraphale to finally define himself outside of the role he has been playing for both Crowley and heaven, and he isn't ready for that yet.
Additionally, there is the fear and/or knowledge (depending on what else the Metatron might have said or done that we did not see) that heaven will retaliate against him and Crowley if he disobeys them now, and he does not want to risk that either.
All that is what, in my opinion, happens in his head when he averts his eyes and interrupts himself. I do kinda what to make a whole different post about his facial expressions leading up to the IFY, so I will end this one with one more bit of pain.
Ready?
Firstly, the face he makes when he makes his decision.
Look at the tight line of his lips, the pain etched into his face, the pure pain in his eyes.
This is the face of someone who knows exactly how badly he is going to hurt Crowley and himself. This is an apology, an I'm sorry for what I'm about to do, this hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm sorry but I have to.
And then he winces afterwards. I don't know about you, but this is exactly the kind of face I make when I'm emotionally torturing myself with my own thoughts. For the final blow, please look at the picture very, very closely, especially the last frame, because Aziraphale isn't just sorry and he isn't just in pain.
Aziraphale is scared because he knows* that he might lose Crowley over this. He knows that saying I forgive you is (almost) unforgivable. He KNOWS.
He does it anyway because he will lose Crowley either way but he'd rather have him alive and hating him than dead.
With that I am concluding today's unhinged meta corner, thank you for your attention and you're welcome for the pain.
Also: If you want to call me a 'tin hatter' or insane or otherwise make fun of me - this is very much a girl, what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament moment because you read my meta post all the way to the end. <3
-
*authors note: what Aziraphale thinks he knows and what is actually real is not the same thing but that's a different post
#alex talks good omens#good omens#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#good omens season 2#go2#aziracrow#crowley x aziraphale#ineffable divorce#the final fifteen#good omens kiss#good omens 2 meta#no nightingales
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Friendship Bracelets - CC
Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: After getting out of a 2-year relationship, your friends encourage you to get back in the game by putting your phone number on some friendship bracelets for the Taylor Swift concert. You decided to make just one and that one ended up on the one and only Caitlin Clark.
Warnings: Swifties lol, this is like a major cliche but I do not care I am also going to change the order of the setlist to make this fic work better please don't come after me, cheating (not involving Caitlin)
Word Count: 2.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: This is nothing other than a figment of my imagination.
2 years. 2 years down the drain. 2 years you gave to this guy only to be left heartbroken and angry.
It had been two weeks since you found out your long-term boyfriend had been cheating on you. Something was off with the two of you for a few months before you found out but when you did it all clicked. That was no excuse for what he did, it honestly only made you hate yourself for not ending it when things started to change.
When you found out, you left quietly.
He was expecting you to lash out and make a scene. He expected you to break things and hit him and show all signs of what he did had an effect on you, at least any sign that you were affected. You gave him none of that.
When you found out - you packed up your things while he was at work and left without as much as a note. He tried calling and texting you for the better part of a week before you finally decided to meet with him.
The two of you sat down at a local diner. You barely looked at him as he tried to come up with any sort of excuse. It was miserable. when you were done sitting there watching him struggle, you finally spoke.
"I don't want to hear any of it. All I want is an apology and I will be going my own way. That is the least you can do for throwing away the last five years," you say making direct eye contact with him now.
He sits there, speechless. He tries to find words and you sit there watching him try to form an apology. Before he can form any coherent response, you get up and walk out not wanting to give the man in front of you any more time.
The next week was a rough one for you. You were incredibly thankful that you have a solid group of friends who have been nothing but supportive. They watched over you like a hawk, making sure you were always with someone and were kept busy.
That leads you to sitting at your friend's kitchen table, listening to Tayor Swift, snacking on some Chick-fil-A all while making friendship bracelets for the concert you guys will be going to in a few days.
You are focused on getting the beads threaded on the string in front of you when your friend hits your elbow causing you to spill all the beads you just put on.
"Cas! I was just about to finish this one," you say frustrated as you are on bracelet 20. Your friends told you you had to make 50 before you could even think about leaving the table. You gather the beads you were just using and begin to start making it again.
"I'm sorry!" She says as she grabs a nugget. One of your other friends chimes in after looking at your pile of bracelets.
"You know, it might not be the worst idea to put your number on some of those bracelets." She says as if you didn't just get out of a long-term relationship. You just give her a look.
"This could be good!" Another one of your friends yells as she points at you. "You will be in a stadium full of girls, singing their heart out to Taylor Swift - it has been a minute since you've been on the fun side." She says referring to your last relationship being Jacob, before him, you were dating a girl and were so much freer.
"Guys, it has literally been 2 weeks. It hasn't even been a month since I have been single. Let a girl heal," you say getting annoyed at your friends.
"Come on, it doesn't have to be serious. This could be a good distraction for you!" One friend says. Another pitches in, "Ya! That's actually a good idea, just something fun, a little distraction!"
"I am not going to put my number on a beaded bracelet," you say. "That seems desperate and I am not desperate, I am healing," You whisper the last part.
"Come on, just a few." You are now being passed the number beads. You make no move to grab them.
You know your friends mean well but this was a little much. They were lucky you were even going - the thought of going to a TSwift concert right after a breakup is daunting.
"No." Is all you say.
"Yes, you are going to make a few, you don't have to give them out if you don't want but if you make them then at least you have the option." One of your friends says.
"Fine, I will make ONE that has my number," you say so they would all shut up. "But I have no plans of handing it out."
The rest of the night is spent finishing up the bracelets. You made so many bracelets, you felt like your fingers were going to fall off.
The day of the concert is pure chaos. Your friends wanted to get there like 10 hours early to get in line for merch and make sure you have plenty of time to take photos. You follow along with your friends, letting them do whatever they want before the concert starts. YOu are a Taylor fan, but not nearly as much as they are.
Once you all make your way to your seats you are on the end of your group of friends. The group of girls next to you is already sitting. You take a seat next to a girl in a light sage dress. You say a quick hello as you get yourself situated.
Part of your group decides to go grab drinks and snacks while you opt to stay and watch over everyone's stuff. You tell them to grab you a drink and whatever looks good.
You sit there looking around at all the girls wearing their Taylor themes outfits and getting to have the time of their lives. Meanwhile, you are just trying to survive the night.
"Hey, I dropped my chapstick, would you mind grabbing it?" The girl next to you says.
"Ya, no problem," you say and lean down and grab the little stick that made its way under your legs. You pass it to the girl next to you who you notice is now alone. "You're friends also head to get snacks?"
"Restroom," she says with a little laugh. "Yours go to get snacks?"
You nodd also letting out a little laugh. "Can't leave the stuff alone."
You introduce yourself as you are about to be screaming song lyrics right next to this girl all night.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Caitlin," she says.
The two of you enter into some small talk and learn you both attend the same school. It is big enough that it doesn't surprise you that you haven't seen each other before. What once started as small talk, turns into talking life. She tells you how there are some big decisions that she is going to have to make coming up - she keeps it pretty vague but mentions it has to do with her career. You mention your recent breakup and how you the guy cheated. Her hand comes to yours as she apologizes that you had to go through that. You give her a small smile and tell her it was for the better.
She sat there listening to the most beautiful girl in the world talk about how someone treated you like trash. All she wanted to do was hold you and show you what love really is. It seems cliche that she is having all these thoughts at concert with a girl she just met but they way you talked about life had her thinking anything is possible.
The conversation continues as you talk about growing up and how you both chose to go to Iowa for school. You learn she plays basketball and you tell her you dance. She slides the comment of how you should come to one of her games. Of course, you say yes, not thinking anything of it.
Both of your groups of friends get back around the same time and you both turn back to conversations with them.
When the concert starts you get mesmerized by the performance. Everyone is standing and singing along to all of the songs.
The first time you cry is when Taylor sings The Archer. You try to hide it to the best of your ability. Your friends are too into the concert to notice which you are thankful for but as your arms wrap around yourself to provide any sort of comfort, you feel a hand come up and give your arm a little squeeze. You look over to see Caitlin's hand on your arm, rubbing it with her thumb. The part of you that once felt so empty, is now a little fuller.
Neither of you say anything about the little moment. You both just continue to enjoy the concert.
It is during Cruel Summer that you are back screaming at the top of your lungs. When Taylor gets to the bridge you grab Caitlin's hand and use it as a microphone, pretending you are on stage. She just laughs at you and takes in the sight of you living your best life. At the end of the song you pull her in so you can say something.
"I would apologize but I am not sorry at all," you say with a laugh. She leans over to your ear.
"Please never even think about apologizing for that," is what she says with a little wink. You just look at her and shake your head with a smile.
The night continues with you singing with your friends, both the ones you came with and the new ones you met at the concert.
The next time you cry is during Tolerate It, your friend that you came with brings you into her side and just holds you. While she is holding you, you feel a hand come and take yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze while rubbing her thumb against your skin.
You don't know what it is about the girl but her comfort is one that you haven't felt in a while. It is peaceful, not forced. She brings a calmness to you and you haven't known her for more than 2 hours. Anyone else would be mortified with your sea of emotions - going from screaming at the top of your lungs to sobbing about your cheating ex-boyfriend but not her. She has embraced it all and continues to embrace it.
It is during You Belong With Me that you notice she is looking at you more than usual. You decide to sing it with her and turn to her during one of the verses. By the time the chorus comes around, she is singing it right to you. You sing along trying to not let the words of the song cut too deep.
She is the one to grab your hand during this song and belt out the words to the bridge. You just watch her in awe, seeing her let loose for what you feel like the first time this evening.
At the end of the song, you put your hand on her shoulder to help steady yourself as you reach up to whisper in her ear, "That was adorable, carefree looks good on you."
She leans back down to you, "You make it easy."
The rest of the night is filled with singing your heart out and making little comments here and there to the girl next to you.
One of Taylor's final songs is one that you have been waiting to hear all night, Enchanted. She does a beautiful acoustic version that has you whispering it along with her. You don't know when it happens but Caitlin takes hold of your arm and turns you to face her. Caitlin is now singing with you (to you). You can't take your eyes off of hers as her hand doesn't leave you. Caitlin, in nothing above a whisper, is singing the bridge of the song hoping that you know she is not just singing the song but means every word.
"Please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting on you." She sings looking right into your eyes.
Who in the world would have imagined this, a beautiful girl singing Taylor songs to you at a Taylor concert. Picking up the pieces of your heart all while only knowing you for less than a day.
When the song comes to an end, you don't know what overcomes you but you bring your hand up to her cheek and just stroke her cheek with your thumb. You then bend down and grab your bag, looking for something that you buried it in before the concert.
You find what you are looking for and give it one look before grabbing Caitlin's wrist and putting the bracelet on her. She gives you a slightly confused look, not understanding why you pulled the bracelet out of the bag and didn't take it off your wrist like you had with all the other girls around you.
You give a nod down for her to look at it and she does. When she sees the bracelet you gave her contains 10 digits on it, she instantly smiles.
The concert comes to an end and everyone begins clearing the stadium. You say goodbye to your new friends, making sure Caitlin is the last of them.
When saying bye, you bring her into a hug.
"I am not ready to jump into anything, but you are truly incredible and I would love to get to know you more. I only made one of those bracelets and wasn't planning on handing it out but you are something special." You say and begin to release her. She doesn't let go of you but rather squeezes you tighter.
"You are worth waiting for," she says, and your heart rate increases. "I will take it as slow as you need.'"
She releases you and you just smile at her.
This night marks a new beginning, one that you can't want to dive into.
AN: Yes, there will eventually be a part two. No, I do not know when. But I promise it will come. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for the love and support 🤍
#caitlin clark#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin clark imagine#iowa hawkeyes#22#iowa wbb#caitlin clark masterlist#cc#taylor swift
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