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brittle-doughie · 2 years ago

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I’d like to imagine that y/n is involved in all the adventures going on in kingdom, and considering the previous update, I’d like to see y/n casually dropping that they fought a dragon like it’s normal to their new rockstar friends and them getting instantly worried

bonus if y/n brings snapdragon cookies as proof

[Be you, hanging with Black Lemonade and Bassist Cookie one time, jamming to her tunes when she taps your shoulder.]

Black Lemonade: You know, Y/N Cookie, I’ve heard a lot of talk about you and this Cookie Kingdom you’ve got going on.

Bassist Cookie: Aw yeah! Cookies from many of our gigs have brought you up here and there, quite the big deal.

Y/N Cookie: Well, when you’ve been through and been to places as much as I have, you aren’t really easy to be forgotten about in the eyes of many.

Black Lemonade: What exactly did you do for it to be like this?

Y/N Cookie: Oh boy, it’s a LONG story. Where to begin…

———————————————————————————————————————

Y/N Cookie: Where are you taking me!? You just upped and grabbed my arm out of nowhere!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Calm down, I’m just borrowing you for a second! I can tell you’re different from those other cookies? I just need a further analysis on you!

Chili Pepper Cookie: Get back here with Y/N Cookie, you little!

Gingerbrave: You let go of Y/N Cookie right now!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Ugh, so annoying. I’ll give them back when I’m done, promise!

Y/N Cookie: I could just slip away right now…

(Strawberry Crepe Cookie suddenly grabbed you with their large crepe arms!)

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Not happening, I didn’t even get to have some time with you because of these…basics!

Healer Cookie: Hang on tight, Y/N Cookie! We will do our best to rescue you!

Y/N Cookie: Strawberry Crepe, we can talk about this. Just put me down and we can-

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: I needed to run field tests on these arms anyway, I’d rather they stop functioning all together before I hand you over.

Y/N Cookie: WHAT-

———————————————————————————————————————

Clotted Cream Cookie: Are you ready, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: I made sure to pack everything I needed, I am missing some clothes, but I can manage without them.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Good, it won’t be a long stay, so there’s no need for worry.

Financier Cookie: The airship is ready to take flight, Consul.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Shall we, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: There’s actually one tiny problem left.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Oh! What would that be?

(Y/N Cookie points to their legs, showing that Pure Vanilla, Hollyberry, and Dark Cacao are holding onto them tight.)

Clotted Cream Cookie: I think I see the problem here…

———————————————————————————————————————

Moonlight Cookie: Ah, no more! Your words hurt like the terror of nightmares. Y/N Cookie, stay close to me.

Y/N Cookie: Moonlight Cookie is right, Stardust Cookie! The Wizards meant no malicious intent, you’re not a failure!

Stardust Cookie: You look particularly fond of this cookie, Moonlight Cookie…what is it about them that you cherish? What is it about them that washes away your sorrow…?

(Moonlight moves more in front of you to block Stardust’s line of sight, Stardust’s attention on you has made her on edge.)

Stardust Cookie: Move aside, Moonlight Cookie. I wish to see them, to see what makes you hold them dear.

Moonlight Cookie: N-no, please. It would bring me pain to see them hurt.

Stardust Cookie: I will not bring them harm, I just want to get a look at them closely. Y/N Cookie, was it? Step forth.

Moonlight Cookie: They do not wish to, please understand-

Stardust Cookie: Allow them to make their own decision, you cannot speak for them.

Y/N Cookie: Leave her be, I’ll do it.

(Moonlight clutched you close in her arms)

Moonlight Cookie: Y/N Cookie..no….

———————————————————————————————————————

Hollyberry Cookie: There they are!

Tarte Tatin Cookie: Y/N Cookie!

(There, sheltering in the cave, was you. You held your stomach as jam was stained on your head as you held it. Your sword laid next to you, claw marks littering the blade. Your breathing was heavy. Hollyberry was FREAKING OUT.)

Hollyberry Cookie: Y/N Cookie please! It’s alright, I’ve got you. Tell me you aren’t hurt badly!

Y/N Cookie: Still breathing and-WHOA! Hey, come on now, Holly! I can’t exactly do that now that you’re squeezing me tightly again!

Hollyberry Cookie: Haha! It’s just that I’m really happy to see you alive! You had no idea how horrified I was when the Red Dragon carried you away! Pitaya Dr-Pitaya Cookie is still fuming from that!

Pitaya Cookie: Your dough! It’s all scratched up! Grrr, that imposter will pay for this….

Tarte Tatin Cookie: You are incredibly lucky to have escape the dragon’s grasp…

Snapdragon: (worried babbling as they went to your side)

Royal Margarine: What do we do know? The Red Dragon will surely come back!

Y/N Cookie: I can still fight, we can still make it to-ARGH!

Hollyberry Cookie: I can’t let that happen, Y/N Cookie. I can carry you the rest of the way, but you’re not drawing your blade again.

Y/N Cookie: Don’t worry about me, the others are hurt too..

Tarte Tatin: Eeugh! I’ll be alright, Y/N Cookie.

Y/N Cookie: Liar…

———————————————————————————————————————

Black Lemonade: ….

Bassist Cookie: Woah….gnarly.

Black Lemonade: Are..are you being serious, Y/N Cookie? A dragon? You fought a dragon?! Are you alright?!

Bassist Cookie: Yeah, are you all good, man? No lasting injuries or…

Y/N Cookie: Outside of burnt dough, several broken ribs, head injuries, and multiple therapy sessions, I’d say I got out of that situation pretty fine.

Black Lemonade: With what you’ve told me, you really are quite a big deal at your place. I’m..actually kind of flattered now since you’re a fan of mine.

Y/N Cookie: Oh yeah, totally. I’m hoping to make Snapdragon Cookie one too.

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: Snapdragon Cookie?

(Cue Snapdragon Cookie suddenly popping out from behind you)

Snapdragon Cookie: Kyaaha!

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: WHAAAAAAAAT?!

Snapdragon Cookie: Buubuu!

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #black lemonade cookie

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twopoppies · 6 months ago

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Things that I am interested in doing with Harry: shop for fancy linens, I know he knows where to get them so they are luxe. Watch some sort of limited miniseries on premium tv because I like those better than normal TV or movies. Have him teach me how to juggle because I cannot do it. Watch and discuss Planet Earth or similar show. Museum of Natural History in London. Grocery shopping for specialty items at niche markets, I want to spend some time shopping around for fancy mustards and jams together. Golfing because yes I can play and I want to see how good he is however I don’t want to discuss golf because golf is so very boring to talk about. Drink rose outside when the day starts to cool off. Park for picnic and reading. Shopping for used books. Shopping for sunglasses. Put mascara on both of us. Go to art museums in interesting places and learn about new types of art that art history classes didn’t cover. Go to that Thai restaurant in Bangkok he waited hours for a table at, I loveeeeew Thai food. Buy him a bicycle helmet. Weed or other drugs I consider safeish- no needles, trusted sources only. Trade favorite books but promise to return them once finished (do not steal my favorite books, Harry). Errands because they’re usually more fun with a friend. Outdoor dining for any meal somewhere bougie. Buy stationary and fancy pens. Dinner party. Meander around new neighborhoods. Buy new couch I feel like he has good taste in furniture. Margaritas but no casemigos that brand is not cool. Flower market. Not hang out with anyone he works for or with for any reason (lookin at you, Ben, James, Jeff, BRAD, Xander. Basically all the revolting crowd he runs with). Not hang out with Kid Harpoon that guy gives me the creeps. Ok now I’m just going to start being mean and saying things I do not want to do so I’ll stop. Anyway none of this involves hopping on his dick and I’m not leaving that out to make a point, I just don’t think that’s something I want to do. OH practice driving a manual transmission because I haven’t done that in awhile although technically I know how. He can teach me again I think just he knows.

LOL! I love you, whoever you are. Other than the weed, I’m with you 100% (because I don’t smoke).

You are officially the start of my “correct ways to be friends with Harry” tag. Or maybe “loving Harry the right way.” 🤣🤣🤣

#correct ways to be friends with Harry #loving Harry the right way

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frownyalfred · 7 months ago

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hi!

thinking of superbat hours in my brain today and i'm on the topic of secret relationship superbat, because this is the most comedic-potential and angst-potential iteration for them. but i'm thinking of comedic potential version rn

(also side note - when you made a post on the kissing for immunity thing you said that you were ignoring the angsty implications (or smth like that about angst) and i genuinely cannot comprehend anything being angsty in that scenario??? what were you thinking of for that)

anyway, back to my thing. i'm thinking maybe clark speeds over to gotham at night sometimes to sleep with (both euphisimistically & not, bcs bruce needs all the sleep he can get and clark being the only one to be able to keep him safe while he sleeps is my jam), and leaves in the morning before anyone knows (ofc, alfred knows and idk if superbat would know alfred knows, but he would approve).

one morning, after clark's left, bruce wakes up sick - feverish, sore, headachy, nauseous, tired, the whole gamut - and being the idiot he is he simply. goes about his day. maybe he takes some tylenol or something but he definitely isn't a good example of what to do when unwell. and he almost goes out for patrol, with damian, but his heart rate spikes dangerously while he's suiting up and clark hears this (he is very attuned to bruce's heart even from cities away) and his Bruce Is Being Stupid Again senses go up (it's the spidey sense but bruce) and he speeds there immediately.

he finds bruce about to put on his gloves and cowl and is like "no, absolutely not" and stops bruce, who ofc gets annoyed and says smth like "no metas in gotham" and clark, trying to get him to stop, v tenderly brushes his hair out of his face and gently holds him and coaxes him into sitting down and resting, "babe, no, please"-ing him out of costume into regular human clothes, and giving him kisses (for immunity of course!) and calming bruce down.

he's going to drop bruce back to his/their bedroom when he realises that damian's seen them kiss so he thinks "oh, shit" but damian's more concerned for his seemingly-infallible dad being so sick. the next morning alfred wakes clark up for breakfast and thanks him for keeping bruce safe in a way alfred has never been able to. dadfred supremacy (dilf).

have a great friday today! idk if you work weekends but if you don't - have a good time off! if you do, have an easy day at work :)

oh I loved this!! thank you for sending it. as for the angsty microbiome post. I was thinking more about ways that having an alien microbe inside of you could make Bruce sick, or cause irreparable damage from an immune response. Or maybe change Bruce into some sort of Kryptonian/Human hybrid, but not a stable one. Or simply give him abilities or longevity that would change him beyond his comfort level.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #clark kent #superbat #batfamily #superman #kryptonian biology

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the-troll-book-of-mormon · 4 months ago

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@davekatweek day 1: plush!

in which dave does not want anything remotely puppet-like to watch the proceedings

(+ my rushed attempt at dialogue below)

DAVE: hey karkat sorry to totally crush your wildest selfcest dreams here but do you think maybe we could put that cool guy away before we go any further here

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: your squishy dude over there with the sideways mohawk

DAVE: lil kat

KARKAT: ARE YOU REFERRING TO MY CUSHION EFFIGY?

DAVE: ok theres absolutely no way thats actually the troll word for plushies but ill let it slide without completely derailing the conversation this time

DAVE: yes that guy

DAVE: could we maybe do this without him watching

DAVE: idk something about the way hes been staring at me with those big yellow depression eyes is just killin my vibe

KARKAT: WOW DAVE, REALLY GLAD THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME YOU FINALLY FOUND IT WITHIN THE ECHOING CAVERNS OF YOUR HOLLOW PUMP BISCUIT TO TELL ME THAT MY "DEPRESSION EYES" ALLEGEDLY "KILL YOUR VIBE".

KARKAT: ANY OTHER COMPLAINTS YOU WANT TO GET OFF YOUR NUB WHILE YOU'RE ALREADY SCUTTLING YOUR EFFRONTERY GASH?

DAVE: dude what

DAVE: thats totally different

DAVE: i love your depression eyes you know i love your depression eyes

KARKAT: I DON'T KNOW, DAVE, IS THIS A THING THAT I KNOW?

KARKAT: YOU DON'T THINK THERE COULD BE ANYTHING CONFUSING ABOUT THE FACT THAT YOU ARE CLAIMING TO "LOVE" AN ANATOMICAL FEATURE OF MINE THAT YOU SIMULTANEOUSLY FIND SO DISGUSTING THAT YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY BRING YOURSELF TO ENGAGE IN CONCUPISCENT ACTIVITIES IN ITS PRESENCE?

KARKAT: ONCE AGAIN I AM COMPLETELY MYSTIFIED BY THE BOUNDLESS GENIUS OF YOUR ATROPHYING SPONGE. HOW COULD I EVER HOPE TO KEEP UP?

DAVE: holy shit dude i cannot believe this is actually something youre stuck on

DAVE: this is a real unfortunate time to be getting into this but maybe its because your depression eyes are attached to the real life body of my sexy as fuck boyfriend and i can look at them and not get the weird fucking heebie jeebies about being watched or secretly filmed

KARKAT: OH.

DAVE: i mean look hes cute and all and on the one hand its genuinely hilarious that in a way were fulfilling plush karkats voyeuristic fantasies that he inherited from you

KARKAT: HEY!

DAVE: but on the other its kinda jarring that every time i glance up and see his weird little fabric face im getting flashbanged by my kid selfs fucked up programming and for a split second its like im seeing something completely different

DAVE: so yeah nothing wrong with his depression eyes specifically its just that theyre eyes and theyre not real and somehow that makes it way more real

DAVE: like maybe someone somehow snuck a webcam in there just now when i wasnt looking

DAVE: which doesnt actually make sense because first of all why

DAVE: and second of all im always keeping my eye out for that sort of thing anyway so i would definitely notice before we got this far

DAVE: but all this dumb shit just makes it kinda hard to focus on the actual depression bedroom eyes right in front of my face

DAVE: not to mention the rest of this effigy im tryin to get my ganderbulbs and prongs all over

KARKAT: OKAY I GET IT, STOP TRYING TO DISTRACT ME FROM THE FEELINGS JAM BY APPROPRIATING TROLL VERNACULAR.

KARKAT: I'LL PUT HIM IN THE OTHER ROOM.

...

i had more of the scene i could write, but it was getting long and im already late for day 1! maybe one day i'll actually write out a scene and post it on ao3

#homestuck #davekatweek #davekatweek2024 #nephi art #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #karkat plush #homestuck fanart

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bitterduo · 1 year ago

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STOP INFANTILIZING JAKE ENGLISH. STOP TREATING HIM LIKE HE IS FREE OF CONSEQUENCES.

Jake English is such an interesting character because the way he is written infuriates me (in a good way). I saw a particular text post saying basically that Jake English did nothing wrong and that Jane is an asshole for being upset at him. This is just… Wrong. I think a lot of people in general like to try and make Jake seem like he cannot do any wrong because he has neurodivergent traits and is heavily implied to be neurodivergent. This is not to say Jake was entirely in the wrong in some situations, but neither were his friends when they became upset at him. Because, guess what Tumblr, they are teenagers and teenagers are flawed as fuck.

The main thing I would like to talk about is the pages where Jane yells at Jake (starts at page 5521).

While obviously Jane’s passive aggressiveness did not help the situation whatsoever, she was very clearly upset at the fact that one of her only friends forgot about her birthday. After he realizes he forgot, he starts making up excuses. Obviously his forgetfulness is not his fault but I feel like Jane’s slight is definitely not unjustified.

Not to mention he doesn’t even say “happy birthday” to her once during the conversation and instead makes stupid quips and proceeds to dump his relationship problems onto her. Before then though, he goes on a huge ramble to try and avoid his problems (aka what he was initially going to talk about with Jane).

During his conversation with Jane where he should be moving on as he’s decided to, it’s obviously complete filler of a conversation where he repeated over and over how Jane is 16. He’s only talked to her about his issues for so long it’s obvious that he doesn’t know how to initiate in a normal conversation with her anymore. When she finally gives him the go ahead to say it (likely because she was tired of a nonsense filler conversation) he all too eagerly tells it as if he was just biding his time for when she’d let him speak. It’s an asshole move really.

Obviously communicating with your friends and being there for them when they are struggling is good, but whenever Jake seems to talk to Jane, it is only really about his problems. Not to mention, he never talks to the person he’s having issues with (majority of the time Dirk) and instead ghosts them for weeks on end.

Not to mention he’s the one to push her into the conversation.

If you actually read the conversation you will also notice that her messages become more sparse and short while Jake’s get longer while he rambles.

When Jake says “laying low” he means ignoring and avoiding Dirk’s attempts to actually try and talk. Not to mention he also insults Dirk by saying he is “needy” and that essentially saying he is tired of Dirk’s company.

And here we fucking are folks, the bread and fucking butter of this whole convo, the shit and jam. Saying that Dirk is annoying and that his “paranoid prophecy” (you know, the one about all of his friends hating him?) is going to come true, aka saying that he does hate Dirk and no longer even wants to interact with him. And guess what? Jake is not even trying to communicate with Dirk on the matter and is instead dumping all this shit ON THEIR FRIEND.

Anyways, let’s skip to when Jane starts getting upset.

In this scene, Jake is practically ignoring her until she basically begins screaming at him. Not to mention the two last messages from Jake are extremely dismissive and so incredibly un-self aware.

Again with his strange quips and being weirdly self deprecating and pity-ing towards himself.

You can very clearly tell she’s upset, reclaiming something she let be their thing but changing it to just hers. Instead of doing the rational thing which would be to apologize, continue this at a later date or ask what you can do to make it up, he focuses on the semantics of the phrase, trying to come up with a new one. This is very obvious that he’s avoiding the topic because he’s uncomfortable with the thought of facing these issues.

After that, on page 5528, she TELLS him the issue and proceeds to keep doing the thing that’s making her UPSET.

She then freaks out again and then Jake finally tries to do something smart by insisting that they talk about it tomorrow (something JANE insisted on EARLIER) and then when she gets more upset and Jake proceeds to basically Jane not to be upset (“Aw come on jane. be a sport.”)

TLDR; stop woobifying Jake English and acknowledge the fact that he also fucks up, just like his friends.

#homestuck #jake english #jane crocker #if you don’t like jane crocker i do not like you #but seriously stop treating him like he is free of consequences because he is neurodivergent #dirk strider #homestuck meta

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lilisettean · 11 months ago

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Can you write more zayne x reader and implied!caleb? I’m a Zayne’s girlie and love to see more of the love triangle and dynamics between them three 🫣

(and let’s pretend Caleb’s still alive)

Hey! Sorry if this is delayed, was really busy recently so haven't updated much. And yes, I will write more of that love triangle! Jealousy is my jam and I LOVE it (in fiction ofc). I'm just waiting for Caleb to come back to have a bit more insight into his character and see if the game explores on their dynamic at some point!

For now though, please have this drabble and I hope you will like it :)

Custom Made | Zayne/Reader + Caleb/Reader

About: Zayne never minded paying for you. If anything, he liked buying you gifts; and if given the chance, he would gladly spoil you. However, he hadn't realized that he wasn't the only one.

Pairings: Zayne/Reader, Caleb/Reader

Notes: A somewhat part 2 to Unspoken Rivalry! Can be read separately though. Still follows the events of the Valentine's event but not by much.

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Implied love triangle.

Zayne wandered around your apartment as he waited for you to get ready for the banquet. This was hardly the first time he had ever been to your place, but he hadn’t had the time to look around then. Usually you were ready by the time he even considered looking around. So when you claimed you needed more time to look presentable and told him to make himself at home while he waited, Zayne nodded and told you to ask if you were to need help or a second opinion.

Not that you needed it anyway. Zayne was sure whatever you did, you would look stunning.

But Zayne understood why you needed time. If the situation was reversed and you asked him to accompany you to some event wherein he would meet your colleagues, he would’ve taken time to pick a suitable and flattering outfit as well. Hence why he was now walking around your apartment, taking in your tastes and interests as he waited patiently.

Your place was very much… you, he found. A large plushie here, a few cushions and a throw blanket there. Combined with the fresh flowers and natural lighting you preferred, this place felt homely; a stark contrast to his modern and sleek, yet somehow impersonal, residence.

Stepping away from the balcony, Zayne was about to approach the mirror perched on the cabinet to examine his appearance when something caught his eye.

It was a lone empty photo frame settled next to the mirror, and under it, was an assortment of pictures taken.

Unable to stifle his curiosity, Zayne gathered up the scattered photos and shuffled through them. There was one with Grandma Josephine, a few with whom he recognized as your colleagues, one with a sleeping blond hair man with squiggles drawn all over his face, and one with a famous painter whose name he cannot recall at that moment.

What made him pause the longest while examining however, was one with your mutual childhood friend, Caleb. You two stood side by side in front of a house, his arm around your shoulder while you tucked your hair behind your ear, caring not to have it tangled with your earring, and smiled for whoever– Josephine perhaps– was behind the camera.

Normally Zayne would’ve continued on, looking through the other photos as if he had not seen it and pointedly ignoring the fleeting what ifs that spawned in his mind. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop staring at the look Caleb had on his face, his mind unable to stop thinking at what the soft smile on his face meant while he was looking at you, instead of facing the camera.

Caleb gazed at you as though you were the only person that mattered, as though you were the only reason for his entire existence.

Zayne knew that look. He had seen it on countless people’s faces. On his patients, on his colleagues… and even on himself, on a picture with you. The same picture he had secretly used as your chat background.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring at the picture as though he could burn it with his gaze alone, until you snuck up to him, peering at what he had on his hands.

“What are you looking at?” Your voice snapped him out of his suffocating thoughts, his form rigid as your hand came contact with his.

“You okay?” You asked, gasping when you felt his icy fingers against yours as you turned the picture towards you. The edges of it were coated with tiny ice crystals, its frost melting away as you wiped it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Zayne replied after shaking his head, purging his mind of the coiling jealousy that took root. The past did not matter; you were here with him now, instead of with Caleb.

“Are you ready to go?” Zayne asked after flipping over the picture and slipping it under the pile. He awkwardly sidestepped your question, hoping that you would pick up on his reluctance and drop the matter entirely. He quietly sighed in relief when the dubious look on your face changed, replaced with a hesitant smile.

“Yes. What do you think? Am I overdressed or under dressed?”

Zayne watched as you stepped back to allow him a better look at your outfit. Despite your protests, he had paid for the dress and heels in full, citing that it was only right for him to provide as he was the one who added you to the guest list.

“You needn’t worry about that. You look immaculate.” Zayne said after giving you a once over, pleased that the dress he had picked out for you was to your tastes and suited you perfectly. He would’ve chosen accessories that would’ve gone well with the dress as well, if it weren’t for your insistence that you had the perfect match for it already.

Well, Zayne took the liberty to pick out an accessory for you anyway as a gift. But that was not the focus now.

Speaking of which… “Those earrings suit you well.” He stated as he admired the visage before him. The pair of earrings you chose were elegant in its design, subtly accentuating your features whilst drawing people in. It was as though they were tailor made for you and you only.

Despite having never seen you wear them before, a sense of déjà vu settled in. He had seen them somewhere, but he couldn’t name where…

“Really? Thanks.” You replied with a laugh, unaware of his sudden fixation upon your earrings. “They were a gift.”

“From who?”

“From Caleb! It was a gift for passing the licensure exams!”

A gift? Caleb?

Something immediately clicked within him as soon as repeated those words to himself. The picture of you and Caleb quickly appeared in the forefront of his mind, linking the two seemingly unrelated pieces of info together.

Of course. The earrings you were wearing now were the same ones you wore in the picture.

While you told Zayne how you unsuccessfully tried to figure out where Caleb got the gift from so you could pay him back, Zayne examined the earrings you wore with great scrutiny, wondering where Caleb had gone to purchase these while listening to your failed attempts at espionage.

The earrings you wore had a unique charm to them, and lacked the sterility and sameness that came with other pieces seen in boutiques. Zayne quickly drew to the conclusion that these were not only custom ordered, but handmade as well, with how well made they were.

There were only a select few stores that did handmade jewelry in Linkon. And to this quality… There was only one place that would be able to craft such a timeless art piece.

Zayne had to admit– albeit reluctantly– if these earrings were ones that Caleb had chosen without any prompting, or even designed himself, he had quite the taste, and an excellent eye for what would suit you the most.

“...Zayne?”

Zayne blinked, realizing that he had unconsciously leaned forward to inspect your earring in detail. Pulling his hand away after tucking your hair behind your ear once more, he straightened himself and replied.

“I know where they are from.” He said, huffing in amusement when he saw your face lit up at his response. “No. It would be impolite of me to reveal that.”

“But Zayne–”

Said man huffed in amusement as you tried to persuade him, citing that you wanted to repay Caleb somehow. But Zayne remained silent, only replying with a small smile.

It would be a horrible idea to do so. Despite the earrings being a gift from someone his darker, more jealous side considered as a rival, it was not his place to speak of its origins. But that was not the main reason why he maintained his silence.

Zayne slipped a hand in his slacks’ pocket while you were busy getting ready to leave, thumbing over a slim velvet box that contained a ring commissioned from the same place Caleb went to for your earrings.

It would be quite troublesome if you were to figure out how much they had spent, and were willing to spend, for you, after all.

#love and deepspace #love and deep space #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace caleb x reader #this dynamic is so good im..... devs pls give me caleb #i want him already... pls

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iluvshinytwink · 2 years ago

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Petty Arguments - Jude Bellingham

Scenario: In a small fight where Jude was ultimately right, you couldn't back down and refuse to apologize and continue dragging on the debate that already reached its answer. Jude responses by giving you the well known silent treatment until you admit you were in the wrong.

This was requested by @habuonlylikesu !! <33

A/N: no cause.. why do i also not back down even tho im wrong and every time i wanna apologize i jus cant for some reason 🙁

"You literally bumped into it." Jude laughed. On the floor laid a broken cup, water all over the floor. "You pushed me into it!" you fought back. "I didn't push you that hard, babe." Jude smiled. You gave your boyfriend a puzzling look. A while ago, Jude slightly pushed you towards the counter where a glass of water sat on top, your elbow harshly bumped the glass and it fell to the ground, shattering.

You shook your head. "Wasn't my fault." you responded plainly. "Even the shittest referee's could tell I didn't push you that hard." Jude explained.

Even during petty fights like these you never backed down even if in the back of your mind you knew he was right you always wanted to prove that you were right, you never wanted to be in the wrong even in situations like these.

"Come on, don't pout." Jude chuckled. "I--" you stammered. "Let's just clean this up and forget about this, okay?" Jude calmly said. "I'm still right, you know.." you lowly mumbled. "Let's forget about this, okay?" Jude sighed.

Jude loved you, a thousand times more he loved you but you hated admitting you were in the wrong until someone literally had to jam the fact that you were wrong. It was slightly annoying and this has happened way more times than he could ever count.

The two of you silently cleaned up the broken glass and spilled water.

You peeked at Jude while he carefully picked up the broken pieces of glass, his face had a monotone expression, your mouth gaped open and you wanted to speak, tell him that you were sorry but your throat ran dry. Your mouth eventually closes again before looking down at the shards of glass.

After Jude disposed of the glass, he simply.. walked away. Again, your mouth gaped open, wanting to say something to stop him but yet again your throat was stuck on a lump. You feel your hand holding out to him but he never noticed.

You felt your hands accumulate sweat. Your eyes met the ground.

You peek over and see Jude watching TV. You had to do it now so tomorrow this would all be forgotten.

Slowly but surely you approached your boyfriend. You did so quietly and painfully slowly.

"Jude?" your voice low. Jude looked up at you, mouth closed. "I'm sorry." you said, not daring to meet his eyes. "(inaudible..) I was stupid.." you mumbled, voice getting lower and weaker by the second.

Silence.

Jude chuckled. "Stop looking down, you look like a child who got scolded." Jude smiled. Jude hand reached out for yours as he pulled you closer to him. Your face met with his chest and you started melting into his body. "Whatever will I do with you?" Jude laughed.

this was a lot shorter than the last time u requested girlie pop, sorry 🙁 anyways i loved this request!! i sadly relate to it, i deadass cannot say sorry without feeling uneasy n shit 😒 anyways i hope u enjoyed this one and thank you for requesting again, i appreciate and love you!!! AS ALWAYS, MAKE SURE TO SMASHH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THESE !! <33

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #iluvshinytwink #imsoslaying

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meguwumibear · 8 months ago

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small writing warm up: also a continuation of this

You do make it out of the narrow alleyway, one hair-raising, ear-splitting scratch and scrape at a time.

The man you’ve accidentally abducted seems amused by your actions. Though he’d chided you for them earlier, he failed to produce an alternative solution to dislodge the car. The damage to the driver’s side door is extensive, but judging by the man’s clothing and accessories, he can afford to replace it.

You shimmy your way out of the car, planning to disappear among the throng of people that have gathered around to shop and eat and chat and fuck. This street is always packed with people this time of night. It’s why you chose it. There’s nothing you like more than a crowd large enough to be anonymous in.

What you don’t expect is the mysterious man to follow you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything at first, so you assume the two of you are just coincidentally heading the same way, however after a few blocks it becomes obvious he’s tailing you.

You bring yourself to a stop, turning to face him.

“We traveling companions now or something?” you demand.

He blinks at you, a frown tugging at his bottom lip, “I don’t know where I am or how to get home.”

And that, that simply cannot be true. The dude looks like he’s pushing thirty. Where are his street smarts? His common sense? His survival instinct?

“Not my problem. Use your GPS. Subway station’s that way,” you add, gesturing vaguely to your right.

“I don’t have one,” he says plainly. “Didn’t think I’d need it.”

You let out an exacerbated sigh and jam your fingers into your temples to stave off an impending migraine.

“I know you have a phone on you. Your goons called you like five minutes ago. There should be an app on the phone you can use as a map.”

“It’s a burner. Its only function is to send and receive calls.”

Of fucking course.

“There’s like a million street signs. Pick one and send them your address. I’m sure your white knights will be here to rescue you in no time, princess.”

The man properly pouts now, an expression unbecoming of his stature. His dopey eyes and puckering lips make him look like a kicked fucking dog. A pretty kicked dog. Like a purebred or some shit, but a kicked dog all the same.

“I don’t like to be called that,” he deadpans, “and, anyway, they can’t come get me. You stole their car.”

This dude’s as thick as they get.

“You look like you come from a family full of lush cars that sit idling in a garage somewhere. I’m sure daddy dearest can spare a second car to rescue his precious son.”

He cocks his head to the side, considering you. “You’d really leave me here? Alone? It’s your fault I’m stranded in the first place. The least you could do is see I get home safely. If you’re worried about your own, you have my word no harm will come to you.”

“Look, dude, this has been fun and all, but I’m confident you can take care of yourself so drop the wounded animal act. Of the two of us only one is packing a-”

A cool, smooth hand slaps itself over your mouth while the man uses his body weight to push your back flush against the grimy brick wall of the ramen shop you’ve stopped outside of. Your biting words die easily in your mouth as your throat dries up.

When the man speaks, it’s as calm as ever, despite his outburst, “I’d appreciate if you could keep that bit of knowledge between the two of us. Tools like that aren’t exactly legal and I’d hate to have to use it.”

Unable to form words, you nod at him, hoping he understands what the movement is meant to convey. You figure you’ve got a 50/50 shot of him interpreting the motion accurately given his communication track record thus far.

A sharp, piercing gaze holds your own for a moment longer, then his hand falls away.

“I live in Musutafu. I’m not sure how far that is from here. You seem familiar with the subway system. Lead the way.”

You suck down a steadying deep breath. There’s a part of you that’s frightened of this dangerous stranger you’ve managed to saddle yourself with. You mostly just feel pissed. You consider your options, remembering an old platitude your mother used to sigh whenever you were in a rage: better to be pissed off that pissed on.

“Hope you’ve got cash,” you acquiesce. “I’m not shelling out for your subway fare.”

#shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you

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hockeynoses · 1 year ago

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Served Just the Way You Like - R/oy x Jam/ie snz fic

Summary: Jamie is sick on game day but thinks he can still play. Roy refuses to let him, but he finds a way he can still be useful – infecting the opposing team with his cold.

Rating: PG-13 (as far as non-snz stuff goes). 4.5k.

Warnings: MESS! Some D/s elements. Malicious contagion via snzing on food. (The results of said contagion are implied, not shown.) If this sounds like too much for you, turn back now! I cannot stress enough how the main part of this fic is just Jamie snzing on the opposing team's catering setup.

Notes: I never thought I'd reach the point where I was comfortable not only writing something like this, but sharing it. So I hope you all enjoy! It took me three months on and off to finish this. And this goes without saying, but I would never condone something like this IRL, and in fact, I would hate it!

The title is a lyric from Table for Two by Joe. What a throwback!

Jamie drives to the club, excited to finally see Roy after a long five days apart. Roy had taken his sister and Phoebe for a long weekend in Germany – a trip to indulge Phoebe’s niche cultural obsessions and because Ruth and Roy are such workaholics that they’d both promised to push each other to go on vacation every so often.

The trip had been planned before Roy and Jamie were even a thing, and Jamie couldn’t go anyway - he had a photoshoot for a brand deal that weekend. It ended up being for the best – Jamie started coming down with something the day Roy left. It’s developed into a real bitch of a head cold – they’d had to put extra makeup on his face for the photoshoot so he didn’t look like he was dying, and he’d been constantly asking for tea to soothe his burning throat.

Missing Roy was a fierce ache that lingered all weekend. He selfishly wanted nothing more than for him to be back home so he could take care of Jamie. But Jamie was trying to be an adult, and that meant he wasn’t allowed to be clingy or call his boyfriend to whine at him while he was enjoying his vacation.

They had only exchanged a few texts over the weekend, Roy sending him pictures when he could. His flight had gotten in late last night, so Roy had gone straight to his own place, barely having time to unpack before he fell asleep.

Jamie had an early night as well, his body aching and exhausted. Still feverish, he’d had a night of fitful sleep, dreading the game the next day.

Now that Roy’s a coach, he has to get to the club earlier on game days, and Jamie usually sleeps in, going about his usual game day routine, heading to the club in the early afternoon.

At last, Jamie rounds the corner and sees the locker room doors, his small waist pack weighing more heavily on him due to how wrung out he’s feeling, though the added weight could be from the packet of tissues and some cough drops he’d stashed into one of the pouches. He’s dreading the game today, but is determined to suck it up and play. It’s his job as a professional athlete, and he doesn’t want to let the team down. He’s pretty sure he’s played through worse.

A whisper of a memory floats through his foggy brain – his dad’s voice, calling him a fuckin’ pansy for complaining of a fever before a game. He’d only been a teenager, but he’d quickly learned to hide any sign of weakness around his father, and by association, around the team.

At least he’ll get to see Roy after such a long weekend away. It’s still fairly early in their relationship and he knows Roy doesn’t mind, but Jamie still feels the need to dial back his neediness sometimes. He knows he can be a lot, and he doesn’t want to scare Roy off by being too much at once. He’s been dying for Roy to come back and take care of him, but they’ve never been in this situation before, and he isn’t sure how Roy will react. Maybe all the bedside manner in the Kent gene pool had gone to his sister.

Before he enters the room, a telltale prickle creeps through his sinuses and he stops in his tracks, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose as a painful stifle tries to force its way out. “ha-kxxSH!” His exhale is a relieved sigh. There’s a good chance that no one heard that. But pinching his nose has turned it an even deeper shade of red, one he can’t do much to hide. And denying himself the release of a sneeze has his sinuses feeling like they’re packed with cement and buzzing unpleasantly.

Once he’s certain there are no more sneezes about to creep up on him, he steels himself and heads into the locker room, greeted by the sound of teammates chatting.

He sets his stuff down on the bench by his locker, turns, and immediately he locks eyes with Roy, who’s been keeping an eye out for him from his desk. If Jamie wasn’t fluent in Roy by now, he would’ve missed the slight quirk of his lips and the way his eyes brighten at the sight of Jamie. It makes Jamie feel properly warm in a way he hasn’t felt in days – a gooey, happy feeling that floods outward from the center of him.

Roy moves first, coming out of his office to greet him. Even though they’re out to the team, a one-armed hug and clap on the back is all they usually allow themselves at work.

“Welcombe back,” Jamie says, voice genuine, as he clings a little longer than mere colleagues would. He can’t help himself; it’s been a shit weekend and he’s allowed this one comfort. He wants nothing more than to sink into Roy’s arms and bury his face in the warmth of his neck. It takes all he has to fight the urge.

“Thanks,” Roy says, rubbing his hand across Jamie’s shoulders before pulling back.

Jamie drinks in the sight of him. “Looks like you godt sombe sudn, Grandad.” He gives him his most charming smile, jealous of the sun that got to kiss Roy’s skin all weekend.

Roy rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, it was hot as fuck, and Phoebe had us running all over on all sorts of adventures.”

“Looks good odn you,” Jamie says, voice low. The intensity in Roy’s eyes is telling. He’s been missing Jamie just as much, and can’t wait to get his hands on him later tonight.

“You look…” Roy pauses, truly taking him in, “a bit tired, actually.”

��Oi!” Jamie protests, his throat burning with the effort. He whacks Roy’s shoulder with the back of his hand, indignant. “Thad’s dnot a dnice thing to say.”

“I’m saying it as a concerned coach!” Roy argues. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

Before he can answer, Jamie has no choice but to snuffle up some congestion, his runny nose finally getting the best of him. He wipes it with his palm, rubbing the tip of his nose in circles to stave off a developing itch.

“Yeah, bmate, got plendy of sleeb.” The forcefully chipper statement is immediately followed by a shaky inhale, and he snaps his hand up just in time to stifle a telling, “ha-kxxxgt!” into his fist.

“Tartt, if you’re sick-” Roy studies him with a stern look.

“I’b nodt sigck,” he says, betrayed by a marshy sniffle. “Idt’s allergies.”

“You’re not allergic to anything.”

Right, Jamie thinks, as a coach, he’d have had a look at all the players’ medical files.

“People can develop allergies as adults.” His croaky voice turns petulant, aware that he’s fighting a losing battle.

Roy stares at him, knowing that Jamie will give in to the need to break the silence and eventually say something incriminating. He doesn’t have to wait long before Jamie’s nose does it for him. It starts to twitch, his eyelids fluttering closed before he’s forced to cup his hands over his face and curl forward with a massive- “heh… heh’eehhRRRSSHOO!” It coats his palms in enough spray and spit that he has to wipe them on his pants. Jamie looks up sheepishly, embarrassed at having his cover blown so quickly.

“It sounds to me like you’ve caught a hell of a cold.”

“I’b fine.” The corners of Jamie’s mouth pull down in a frustrated pout.

“Where did you even pick this up?”

“I don’t know, bman.” Jamie tries and fails to keep the tired whine out of his voice. A cool hand presses to his forehead and he sighs at the feeling.

“Jesus, you’re burning up.” Roy says. The concern in his voice floods pleasantly through Jamie, always grateful for Roy’s attention. “You can’t play like this.” At that, Jamie snaps back to attention.

“The fucgk I cadn’t! Me legs work jusdt fiiiihh hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” Into his hands again, followed by an irritated cough that’s just starting to move into his chest. A few heads turn their way, and the guys nearest to him take a step back in unison.

“Jamie, you’re clearly not well enough to play. And as your coach, that’s my call to make.” Roy says firmly, voice deep with authority. He places a placating hand on his shoulder. “It would be irresponsible of me to let you play right now.”

Jamie’s gaze cuts downward, feeling like an unruly child being scolded. He drags the back of his hand under his nose and gives a thick sniffle, still fighting against his runny nose.

“Christ, you even look contagious. Do you want to get the whole team sick? You should have told me sooner.”

“You were on vacatiodn! I didn’t wadnt to mbake a big deal oudt of idt.” His dad’s comments filter through his head again, and he decides he’s not going to have that conversation in the middle of a crowded locker room.

“You still could have told Ted or Beard. Or texted me this morning. I wouldn’t have been mad, Jamie.”

“I’b sor- ehh…hih’TTSSHOO!” The inner elbow of his very expensive hoodie gets a generous spritzing.

“Hmm? What was that?” Roy asks with raised eyebrows.

“I said I’b – ggsh’IISHIEW! SNF. I’b sorry!” He has to wipe his nose on his sleeve before he can show his face again. It seems like each day of this horrid cold has brought with it increasingly messy sneezes, with no end in sight.

“Good boy,” Roy offers, a dash of condescension mixed in with his genuine tone. It affects Jamie all the same, warming him down to his toes. He should be embarrassed, but he’s too worn down to care. He almost sways with the relief of it - or maybe that’s the fever he hasn’t managed to shake. Roy drapes an arm across his shoulders, holding him in place.

“Let’s get you out of here. God knows we don’t need a fucking virus taking down the entire team at this point in the season, with the league table being as it is.”

A spark of an idea lights up Roy’s face at that, and he pauses, considering. Once again taking in Jamie’s sorry state – his cheeks ruddy with fever, his glassy eyes, and his poor raw nose. So clearly full of cold and extremely contagious. Having made up his mind, Roy gestures to Ted and Beard that he’s taking Jamie home, and that he’ll be back in time for the match. Business taken care of, he turns back to Jamie.

“Follow me,” Roy says as he manhandles him out of the room and down the hallway. Jamie has to muffle a few sneezes into the collar of his hoodie along the way, Roy holding him steady through each one. He’s so out of it that it takes him a while to realize they’re not taking the usual route out of the stadium.

“Where we goin’?” he asks, groggily wiping at the clear mess seeping out of one nostril.

“Just trust me. And try not to draw too much attention to yourself,” Roy says, as though that’s something that comes naturally to Jamie.

Roy uses his employee badge to get them into a door deep within the maze of the staff-only areas of the stadium. Opening it slowly, he scans the room to make sure it’s empty before pulling Jamie inside.

“Whadt are we doin’ ‘ere?” Jamie asks, blinking hazily. They’re in the lounge area for the visiting team; he recognizes it from when he played here with City. It’s outfitted with a full kitchen, dining tables, couches, TVs – the works.

It should still be about 30 minutes before the opposing team arrives, but the room has already been prepared for them. The fridge is stocked; silverware, plates, and glasses are all arranged on one end of the long counter, and the catering team has set out trays of food on beds of ice to keep them cool. There’s a tray of sushi, a gorgeous charcuterie board, a large bowl of salad, and some cold cuts for sandwiches, among other hot dishes being kept warm by small heaters under their covered metal trays.

“I have an idea,” Roy says with an evil glint in his eye. Jamie recognizes that look from training and knows well enough to be very, very afraid.

“…What?”

“You’re gonna contaminate their food and get all these fuckers sick, like the plague rat you are.” Roy shares an intense, secretive grin with Jamie, clearly proud of himself.

A shocked grimace pulls at Jamie’s features.

“Roy, that’s sigck. We cadn’t…” His breath scissors in and out. “We c-cadn’t do that! Hih…ha-ESSSHH’uh!”

“Of course we can.” Roy’s strong fingers give Jamie’s shoulder a shake, caught up in the excitement of his plan. “Think of the standings, mate! If a bunch of their best players are out the next couple of weeks, their numbers are gonna tank and we’ll move up a couple spots!”

Jamie stares at him in awe. “You really - hah…ha’XXGSH’uu! You really are a sadist.” Roy pins him with a knowing look. A flush prickles across Jamie’s cheeks and neck, and there’s a tug of heat in his core. Roy follows his lead, crowding into his space. He thrusts his fingers into Jamie’s thick hair.

“Well, you’re the one who showed up for a game that you’re obviously too sick to play, and you risked getting the rest of the team sick, so now I’m the one making the decisions.” He pulls Jamie closer to him, tugging gently on his hair. The words are growled softly against his cheek like a secret. “Which means I get to use you however I want, and you’re gonna let me.”

Jamie chokes on a moan, breath catching in his throat. Roy pulls back, his eyes flashing dark.

“Yeah?” Roy asks, giving him an out if he needs it. They’ve been together long enough that they can read each other clearly. Even though they might have their communication issues outside the bedroom, sex and its related power dynamics have always been something that they’re really, really good at.

“Yeah,” comes Jamie’s answering rasp. His eyes are needy, reverent. He can trust Roy. Roy will take care of him. And he gets to be useful. He can still help the team win, even in this twisted roundabout way that Roy’s found.

He’s afforded the soft brushing of Roy’s fingers against his cheek before he’s abruptly caught by the elbow and firmly escorted towards the long counter with trays of food on it.

“Right then,” Roy surveys the room, creating a plan of attack. “We should probably hit all the cold stuff first… not bother with the hot trays since they’re probably warm enough to burn off the germs… or something. Right?”

“Fugk iihh- hep’TIISSHuh!” Jamie sneezes down into his cupped hands, held inches away from his face. “Ugh. Fugk if I know.” He glances at his moist palms before swiping them dry on his pants.

Roy rolls his eyes. “Don’t waste all those sneezes before we even start.”

“Sorry, Jesus.” Jamie’s brows furrow in a little pout as he wipes his damp, squishy nose on the side of his hand.

Roy, anxious to get started and with an eye on the clock, grabs Jamie’s arm with gentle authority and steers his body towards the tray on the end of the counter. It looks like a lovely house salad, Jamie thinks absently, staring down at it. When he glances back at Roy, the other man is watching him expectantly.

“Alright, go for it.”

“I cadn’t just… do it odn commband!”

“Now’s not the time for performance anxiety, Tartt.”

“Ha-ha. You’re bloody hilari-hihh!” He sucks in a sharp inhale as the fuzzy sensation in his nose starts up again. “ihh...hih…ha’iigg’SHH’IUE!” On instinct, he turns his head down, bringing his elbow up in an aborted attempt to cover. About half the sneeze escapes and mists the salad below, the rest of it ends up on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Christ’s sake, the whole point is to not cover!” Shifting behind him, Roy gathers Jamie’s arms together behind him before clamping a large hand over both wrists. Heat thrums through Jamie’s veins, his awareness narrowing to the squeezing pressure of Roy’s hands. He fights the urge to squirm.

“Try again.” The husky command rings low in his ear. It vibrates through him, sending shivers across his skin.

His cheeks tinge pink to match his chapped nose, which is currently running freely onto his upper lip. His hand jerks in Roy’s grip, his brain on autopilot trying to get him to clean himself up. He settles for a desperate sniff, scrunching his nose up in an unsuccessful attempt. He’s so congested he can barely get any air through.

It sets off a new round of tingling, so itchy and persistent that he shakes his head to try and dispel it. His chest expands as his breath stutters and his brain goes pleasantly fuzzy. “heh…ha’EESHHH’OO! Ha’ITTCHH’uh!” The full-bodied sneezes burst from him, showering the salad with a hearty amount of mist. He blinks woozily, catching his breath as they watch it settle.

“Good job,” Roy says, and Jamie’s shoulders melt. He lets Roy shuffle them a step or two over so they’re standing in front of the tray of sushi.

“This next.” Roy taps the tray before moving out of the way.

“Give be a binute, Jesus,” Jamie whines, twin trails of mess clinging to his cupid’s bow. Roy surprises him by blowing a breath of cool air across his nose, and it turns out that, yeah, he really is that ridiculously sensitive right now. “Fu-uhhh-ck…” Jamie fights against it for a moment before remembering their purpose. His nose is stuffed so full right now, he just knows it’s going to be a fucking mess.

Tears spring to his eyes as his nostrils flare, the plaguing itch too intense to control. “Eh…hih…” His chest swells with a gasp before the air is blasted from his lungs – “AEEEISHH’IEW! Huh…Ha’AEEESHUH!” as he barks two huge, wet, cold-laden sneezes down over the waiting food.

It takes him a minute to come back to himself, his breath sounding heavy in his own ears. Roy presses bodily into him, rubbing a reassuring hand across his shoulders.

“Impressive,” he offers, generous with his praise. It only adds to the floaty feeling shimmering through Jamie’s body.

“Christ, look at you. Such a mess.” Roy says, velvety and raw.

Jamie’s face grows hot, humiliatingly conscious of Roy’s scrutiny. He’s sure his face is a disaster. Can feel the remnants of spit and spray all the way past his curved, parted lips down to his chin. He must look like a walking biohazard.

“Roy…” Jamie gives a waterlogged snuffle. “Cadn I have a tissue?”

Roy seems to enjoy Jamie’s struggle to recapture his composure.

“No.” Roy’s fingers clamp over his chin. He brushes a kiss to Jamie’s temple. The gruffness of his voice shoots straight to Jamie’s cock when he says, “I’ll clean you up when we’re done. Right now, I want you messy.”

A soft whine escapes him. “Roy…”

“Such a pretty boy.” Roy’s hand comes down over the back of his neck possessively. “I can’t help but want to see you looking like a right fucking mess sometimes.” His words slink down Jamie’s spine and pool low in his gut.

As Roy moves them further down the line, Jamie’s nose surprises him with a sudden, “hih’EGGSSH’iew!” that mostly ends up glistening on the stainless-steel counter.

“Use your aim, you Muppet. Or do you need me to do everything?” Roy asks with no real heat behind it.

His fingers thread back into Jamie’s frosted tips and he tugs, firmly pulling Jamie’s head back and positioning him right where he wants him - directly over the painstakingly arranged charcuterie board. It really is gorgeous - If Jamie wasn’t feeling so poorly, he’d want to dig in. He braces his arms on the table, his hands finally free of Roy’s hold. Apparently Roy had decided he was trustworthy enough to have his arms back.

“S-sorr-ehh…ha-eh’kkgh’ISHHOO!” The sneeze rockets through him. His muscles tense as he curls forward with the force of it, dousing the food below with a heavy amount of viscous, virulent spray. He moans, catching his breath. That one nearly tore his throat raw. He sags into Roy’s solid form, the achy torment of the past few days starting to catch up with him.

“I almost feel bad for these poor fucks.” Roy says, his arm a firm, comforting presence around Jamie’s waist. “There’s no way they’re not gonna catch this.”

“Mmm,” Jamie hums in response. Resting his fever-warm forehead against Roy’s neck, he sniffs up some of the gunk in his nose, the miserable, squelching sound of it echoing through the room. The bottom half of his face is still in a right state, but he isn’t about to wipe it on Roy’s shirt. He’s being good, and Roy promised he would clean him up after they’re done.

“I bet these fuckers’ll be so smug when they hear our star striker isn’t playing tonight.” Roy smirks. “But they’re gonna find out the hard way that you’re still our secret weapon.” A hand squeezes Jamie’s bicep and gives him an encouraging shake.

Jamie pulls back, his exhausted eyes smiling at Roy, basking in the praise that helps him find his second wind. Roy’s grin is wicked, confident in the success of his plan.

“Ugh, I dodn’t feel good,” Jamie says as he continues to lean on Roy for support.

“Good. Probably means you’re more contagious.” Then he softens. “Just a couple more and we’ll get you out of here.”

Jamie groans but lets himself be pulled along to the next tray made up of various cold cuts and sliced cheeses for sandwiches.

“Get this,” Roy directs, arranging Jamie until he’s directly in front of it. He hardly has to work at all to get another tickle started up. Taking a couple deep sniffs is enough to irritate the sludge that’s packed in his sinuses, begging to be released. His vision goes blurry as the itch builds and builds. His wet nostrils flare as his mouth falls open, his hitching breaths finally reaching a peak. “iihhh- hih’GGKSSHH’IUE!” He’s thrown forward with it, covering the food in an unrestrained torrent, the mist and spit visible as it settles. The dish takes it all.

“Guh…” Jamie leans back, tilting his head back to stop his sinuses from draining down onto the food. The bottom half of his face is a glossy mess. Roy snakes a hand into his hair again and pulls so his throat is exposed.

"You look wrecked...” Roy says, and a needy sound escapes Jamie’s throat. “Love it when you look a wreck for me."

“Roy,” he breathes out.

“I leave for four days and look what a mess you’ve become.” Roy’s teasing voice burns hot in the shell of his ear. “Next time you’re gonna tell me when you’re feeling poorly. Doesn’t matter if I’m clear across the world.”

“Yeah… Yeah, ‘course I will.”

“Promise?”

“Prombise.”

There’s a pause, and Jamie’s eyes search Roy’s face, his throat tight.

“Idt was five days,” he says.

“What?”

“You said you were godne for four days. Idt was five.”

Roy stares at him for a moment, his expression softening. “Counting down the days, were you?” He chuckles, a deep sound that reverberates through Jamie. “Fuck… Love it when you get all needy.”

And really, Jamie can’t help but go all melty at that.

“You gonna let me take care of you when we get home?”

“Uh huh,” he breathes through his mouth.

“There’s a good boy. I’ll handle everything; have you feelin’ better in no time.”

Jamie makes a little sound and curls into Roy for a hug. He feels Roy reach his arms around Jamie’s waist and squeeze him tight.

“Vacation was nice, but I missed your constant yammering in my ear,” Roy says into Jamie’s hair. Jamie laughs weakly – a wet thing that turns into a cough.

“Come on, just one more, then we’ll get you home.” Roy turns them to the tray of silverware laid out at the end of the table. “Finish ‘em off.” He brushes the hair from Jamie’s forehead as he takes in his clearly contagious mess of a face.

Jamie leans forward, willing to do anything Roy says at this point. He can feel a monster of a sneeze building, and tries to sniff through his clogged sinuses to help it along. Nostrils twitching, he rubs the tip of his nose in circles, his hand coming away wet with snot. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good to just get this crud out. “hah… Cobme ond… ihh… huh’IGG’SSHHAH! Hih’ZZSHHHUUHH’UE!” The sneezes shudder through him as he sprays the silverware with all the filth that has built up in his head. Roy holds him steady with an arm around him as they watch it settle, their mission accomplished.

“Good job, babe.” Roy gives his middle a squeeze, looking nearby at the basket of sandwich buns. “I should shove your face in one of these, but I’ll be nice and let you have a tissue. Since you’ve been so good for me.”

Jamie sags into him and groans – in relief, pleasure, exhaustion – he isn’t sure which.

“Oh, you’re so out of it.” Amusement shines in Roy’s eyes, along with a quiet sort of love. “Here, let me.” He grabs a napkin from the pile on the table and gives the bottom of Jamie’s face a cursory wipe before cupping it around his nose. “Blow.”

Jamie obeys, blearily filling the tissue with the muck leftover in his sinuses. It seems to never end. After several blows, he finishes, not quite gasping for breath. He still can’t breathe through his nose, but he feels about a hundred times better than he did a moment ago.

“You may be a mess,” Roy grunts at him, his lip curling up into a smirk. “But you’re my fucking mess.” He kisses Jamie’s forehead and pockets the soggy napkin. Despite the aches in his body, Jamie feels like he’s floating. He’s so gone on Roy, it would almost be pathetic if he wasn’t sure that Roy was equally as obsessed with him.

“Take mbe hombe?” Jamie asks, hand skimming down Roy’s arm to toy with his fingers. Roy threads them together.

“Of course, love. Let’s go,” he says before pulling Jamie along, leading the way as they make their escape into the echoing halls of the club.

#snzblr #snz fic #snz fics #snzfics #snzfic #tw: contagion #cw: contagion #jam/ie ta/rtt

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kairiscorner · 1 year ago

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HIIIII I LOVE YOUR WORK SM THEY MAKE ME CLAW AT THE WALLSSS (they make my pinoy heart SING so tysm for writing these 💥💥💥)

ANYWAYS Can i request a Hobie Brown x Filipino!Reader, where she brings him to like a family gathering (Maybe like a Manny Pacquiao party) And he’s like having the time of his life- like he has a plate full of food, jamming out to karaoke with his guitar, and like he’s playing with the Readers little cousin and he’s like spinning them around on his arms they’re calling him “Kuya Hobie”?

TYSM 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

HELLO PO, omg i'm so happy to hear that <:DD aLSO THIS IDEA IS SO CUTE WAIT...... ik i said i'd be on a break but this request was too cute NOT to do >:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

kuya hobie brown

your family absolutely loves hobie, he's practically a part of the family now. they love how carefree and loving he is, and the adults love how well he respects your elders--doing the "mano po" whenever you introduce him to someone older, but always remaining friendly with whoever he's talking to. towards your cousins, he's their role model; he doesn't blindly obey what he's told, and will make his own way if he has to. in short, hobie gets along with all of your family, and you couldn't be any happier that he does.

"i cannot emphasize how chaotic your family is," hobie tells you as he wraps your hands in his own. he turns to you, grinning widely, and with his other hand, he brings it up to caress your cheek. "this might sound really crazy, but i feel at home here." he said as he leans in close to press a kiss on your forehead. you giggled at his show of affection, and you could've sworn a couple of your titas saw you two, pointed, smiled and started giggling and whispering to each other. one had their phone out, ready to take a picture of the next sweet moment you two would share, but you took hobie by the hand and got out of the adult's area and to the kids' area, where no one would bother you two.

"pasensya na, ha, my family is chaotic, though... a little nosy." you admitted with a bashful and awkward giggle. hobie grinned, he held you close as you two walked over to the living room, where your younger cousins were playing video games and with toys, and as always, screaming.

"i've dealt with nosies a lot of the time, i do like your family, still. and you already know i love you a whole bunch." he beamed as he kissed your cheek, which caused you to break out into a wide smile. your younger cousins witness hobie kiss you, and immediately, every single one of them squealed and screamed. they teased you two in the classic, elementary style tease, "they're sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" they'd exclaim, and you'd threaten to change the wifi password on them if they kept doing that. hobie was still very happy to hang out with you and your younger cousins, they were a delight to him.

he already had experience babysitting mayday, so he knew all the right and effective tactics to use to entertain these kids. you watched as he went over to a couple of your younger cousins who were playing with action figures and dolls, and he asked them if they've ever seen an action figure of the coolest spider man in existence. they claim they have, but hobie told them that's impossible, because, "i am the only one in the whole multiverse who has him." he said with a smirk as he showed the kids his handmade figurine of himself, which you looked at in awe.

the kids flocked together to see the figurine of him, and when they told him they've never seen this spider man before, he chuckles, and tells them, "oh, you haven't?" you have to hit him lightly on the arm to get him to stop while he's ahead. "delulu kasi yang kuya hobie ninyo, akala niya siya si gagamboy." you joked, to which he responds by playing with his figurine and telling you he'll save you from the killjoy monster that's about to eat you up!

the kids really loved hobie, they insisted on doing karaoke, and though hobie wasn't very excellent at the singing, you took over that department for him, with him playing the guitar. the kids loved your performance together, and he even taught them how to play basic chords. as the day was ending and a lot of your younger cousins had to go, one of them in particular ran up to hobie as their parents were reminding them it was time to go.

"oh," hobie would say in surprise as the kid ran up to him and hugged him, "mamimiss ko po kayo, kuya hobie." they'd say as hobie would hug them back. "aww, i'll miss you two, little fella." he replied. "can we do it again, po?" they'd ask hobie, and before you could ask what 'it' was, hobie agreed. "alright, here we go!" he'd exclaim as the kid placed their feet on his, with hobie holding the kid's arms tightly, spinning them around and around with his heels as they giggled.

you wasted no time and grabbed your phone to film this beautiful moment, your younger cousin kept giggling and calling hobie their 'kuya', to which hobie's smile grew wider and wider. you smiled just as wide to yourself as you stopped filming and encouraged your younger cousin to go home after the probably thirtieth goodbye.

"they really do love you, hobes." you said as you took his arm in your own. "and i really love them, too. they're so sweet, and you... really have a soft spot for them too, don't you?" he asked you with a teasing smile. "well... i'm their older cousin, of course i do. kahit na lalamunin na ako ng KJ monster... you save them and me from it, aking gagamboy." you teased him as he kissed your nose, wishing he could be with you and your family, seeing your younger cousins' happy smiles every day.

a/n: AKING MINAMAHAL NA KUYA HOBIE 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD, i wanted to write more about it kaso i wanted to emphasize how sweet hobie would be with the kids, LIKEEEE, HE IS THE BEST KUYA EVER

#hobie brown #hobie brown x filipino reader #hobie brown x you #atsv x filipino reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown fluff #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines

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hexalianrebel-blackfeathers · 2 years ago

Text

Task at Hand

Panda’s Notes: Maybe I'm a little late, but I adored the movie, and, more importantly, I might have fallen for a fictional man. Hobie Brown stole my whole heart. >w< Consider this the first of three.

[Ao3] || [Ko-fi] || [Commissions]

“Oi, short man!”

Miles flinched at the sound of that voice. There was no way.

“Uh, Miles?” His mother called, sounding just a bit nervous.

He scrambled out of his bedroom to find his parents staring warily at a smug looking Spider-Punk leaning against their front door.

“Hobie?” He asked with a hint of panic in his voice as he approached him. “What are you doing here?”

Hobie snickered, patting Miles’ shoulder before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Was in the neighborhood, y’know? Thought we could grab grub or somethin’, just cause.”

“Miles…?” His dad stepped closer, resting a slightly firm hand on his shoulder. “Is this guy another friend of yours?”

“Um…” Miles stammered. “Well, yeah, I mean, he’s a friend, just—"

Hobie rolled his eyes with a little grin, standing up straight and offering a hand. “Aye, Hobie Brown, at ya service. Mr. and Mrs. Morales, yeah? Charmed, really. Heard a lot of good things.”

Jefferson accepted the handshake, eyes widening a little at how strong he was for being so thin. Rio was given a handshake as well, though much gentler.

“So, how’d you two meet anyway?” She asked, hands resting casually on her hips.

Miles stood awkwardly in front of Hobie, wringing his hands behind his back as he spoke. “Well, he’s sort of a pen pal, y’know. We mostly talk online; he’s not around much.”

“I’m a friend of Gwenny’s.” Hobie shrugged casually, pulling his guitar up slightly so they could see. “We jam once in a while, but yeah; I ain’t in town very often. Not from ‘round here, but you probably guessed.” He lunged slightly and wrapped his arm across Miles’ chest, resting his chin on his head and sneaking a poke on his ribs. “Little brother here is always on scene with us. Likes to keep us outta trouble, but he ain’t worth much on bass, I tell ya.”

Hobie laughed lightly, and Miles cringed as his mother chuckled. Jefferson still eyed them both, but he was smiling a bit and patted Miles’ arm lightly. The pair watched his parents expectantly, with Miles fidgeting the entire time.

“Alright, alright; go on.” Jefferson finally sighed with a wave of his hand, smirking slightly as he turned away.

“Don’t stay out too late; try to be back for dinner.” Rio insisted, smiling up at Hobie.

Miles finally relaxed, aiming a glare at Hobie before going to his room to grab his backpack.

----------------

“I cannot believe you!” Miles called as he chased Hobie across a few rooftops halfway across town.

“Can’t believe my amazing charisma, you mean, mate?” He called back. “You wouldn’t. You are complete shit at lying. Actual garbage, my guy.”

Miles groaned and rolled his eyes, shifting his bag on his shoulders. “Get back here! Aren’t you the one who wanted to get food? It’s going to get cold!”

Hobie stopped on one building, suddenly whirling around and catching Miles before he could land. He shushed him quietly, smirking as he pulled his mask from his pocket and put it on.

“Over here, bruv, come on.” He leaned over the side of the roof, glancing up and down the street. “I was casing this place earlier when I was headed your way. Spider-sense going somethin’ fierce. Windows are all blacked out; same color, definitely not curtains.”

Miles had pulled his own mask over his head, shrugging his bag off to lean beside him. “Are you telling me the Spider-Punk got me out of the house to work?” He giggled when Hobie elbowed his ribs, crawling up over the edge as the taller man practically shoved him.

“Oi, shut up already. Place skeeved me out, okay? Look for yourself if it seems sketchy. I’m not the one built for stealth, now am I?”

“Okay, okay…” Miles disappeared from view, crawling carefully across the side of the building. Sure enough, the windows did all appear to be completely blacked out. Maybe a mix of duct tape and spray paint? Too thick to see through either way. Great, the one time he feels like he doesn’t have enough powers. He pressed his ear to the window, blinking curiously at the sounds of some kind of machinery. This wasn’t a warehouse or anything; it just looked like a regular, if very old, apartment building.

Miles climbed back up to the roof, finding Hobie fishing French fries out of his backpack. He snickered as he approached him. “Those better not be mine.”

“Bags are the same color, mate; don’t know what ‘tell ya.” He said quickly, licking his fingers and putting the backpack on his shoulder. “What’d you get?”

“Some kind of machine noise? I couldn’t see what it was, but it seemed like a lot of them. Kinda sketchy, I guess. They wouldn’t black out the windows other—”

“Issa sweatshop.” Hobie suddenly spoke through a few more fries, striding quickly across the rooftop. “Betcha a fancy-ass milkshake on it, yeah?”

Miles jogged after him, watching as he stopped beside the building’s transformer. “A sweatshop? You think so?”

“Bet on it, didn’t I?” Hobie prodded around the large box curiously before ramming his elbow into the small service panel. “Look, worst hand: I’m right, crime’s on, and you owe me that milkshake. Plus, we disrupt some exploitative assholes making shitty clothes or whatever. Best hand—” He gripped the edge of the dented panel, ripping it clean off its hinges. “Well, some weirdo junkies won’t have television for a week, maybe. Fry it.”

Miles blinked at the sudden command, looking warily at the cables and lights. “And you think this isn’t going to get me fried?”

“Eh, you’ve done it before, basically.” Hobie shrugged, stepping out of his way. “Didn’t die then.”

Miles rolled his eyes, but he still hesitated a little. Electricity crackled between his fingers as he looked for places to slip them under the cables. He could feel his hands tingling as the electricity jumped between the transformer and his body.

“Nah, nah, nah; you’re holding back again.” Hobie said quickly. “They’ll notice some light flickering; remember what I told you.” He reached over Miles’ head, pressing his own hands over Miles’ to press his palms flat into the transformer.

“Whoa, wai—!” There was a blinding flash and a loud crack, and Miles spun around when he realized Hobie wasn’t pushing him anymore. His knuckles cracked as he flexed his fingers, scrambling over to where Spider-Punk was sprawled on the roof almost ten feet away.

“Hobie?!” He called in a panic, grabbing at his shoulder and shaking him a bit. He felt a few minor shocks jump up his arm, and Hobie coughed as he shifted around. Coughs turned into groans that quickly turned into excited laughter as he pushed himself to sit up.

“Haha! Hell, yeah, my guy; fucking aces!” He cackled, slapping Miles’ chest with the back of his hand and wincing immediately. “Ack, shit, that hurt… Fuck, that was awesome!”

Miles stared at him in disbelief, only able to imagine the look on Hobie’s face. He cringed a little as his Spider-Sense went off, and he realized he could hear boots stomping up a staircase.

“Let’s book, mate, come on!” Hobie was halfway across the roof already, though he almost stumbled on the jump to the next building. Miles stuck close to him as they ran this time.

----------------

“You were worried about this being cold, man?” Hobie chuckled between bites of his sandwich. “You’re too much sometimes, aren’t ya?”

They had returned to Miles’ building, and they’d finally gotten the chance to sit down on a pair of chairs that had been forgotten from the party weeks back.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Hobie?” Miles asked warily, leaning slightly to gently kick his leg. “You were out for a little bit.”

“Nah, I wasn’t.” He said shortly. “Hurt like a bitch, but it didn’t put me out. Trust me, I been hit with worse without the mask on. The healing thing helps out though, gotta admit.”

“Healing thing?”

Hobie snorted, pulling a soda can out of his lunch bag as he looked over at him. “You been a Spider how long, and you never noticed the healing thing, brother? Thinkin’ you just fall off of buildings and live based on goof physics, are ya?”

Miles chuckled and shook his head, rolling his hand as he crossed his legs on the chair. “Yeah, okay; get it all out.”

Hobie chuckled and smirked, shrugging his shoulders as he popped the soda tab with one finger. “Nah, I’m done. What I want to hear about is why you’re still holding yourself back on the electricity thing.”

Miles huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t just go around electrocuting everyone all the time!”

“Yeah, ‘cuz you’re soft.” Hobie reached to slap lightly at Miles’ shoulder and ruffle his hair with one hand, grinning as he swatted him away. “Though, I guess you would be a bit young to get a body count on you.”

Miles hesitated as he judged the weight of what Hobie was saying. And not saying. He stared at his hand for a moment as he set his straw against his lips, his nerves prickling a little as sparks jumped between his fingers.

“Y’know what? You have a point; I admit it.” He finally sighed.

“I’m always right, man; you’ll catch on eventually.” Hobie snorted when a napkin was thrown at his head.

“My skill isn’t in my power output.” Miles shrugged and flexed his hand. “It’s in my control.” He punctuated the statement by jabbing two fingers into Hobie’s side while he was looking away, the smallest amount of electricity he could manage zipping through them.

Hobie flinched hard, his hand clenching sharply enough to crush the top of the soda can and a choked noise jumping out of his mouth.

Miles paused, a smile spreading across his face as he fidgeted with his fingers.

Hobie glared at him, his eyes betrayed by the smirk on his lips, and he shook the soda off of his hand after setting the can down. “Do that again, and I break your arm.”

“Okay, but I can do it again though?”

“If you want a broken ar—Ack! Miles!” His voice was cracked to pieces by barely stifled giggles.

Miles had pressed another little shock to Hobie’s side, spreading his fingers and starting to wiggle them quickly. “You’re ticklish! Oh, my god; you’re, like, really ticklish.” He slipped around Hobie’s chair, digging scribbling fingers across his stomach and up his sides.

Hobie wrapped his arms tight around his waist, laughing loudly and writhing under each little poke. He nearly flinched out of his chair at another zap, hiding his face in one hand as the other shoved at Miles’ shoulder.

“I really can’t believe you.” Miles giggled, finally letting Hobie push him away and leaning into his outstretched arm. “‘Spider-Punk’ and ‘ticklish’ just don’t really go together, y’know?”

Said Spider-Punk panted quietly, and his hand got a tight grip on Miles’ jacket. “‘S pretty rude to go off stereotyping people, innit, man?” He asked calmly, slowly getting out of his chair and yanking Miles by his coat to follow him. Miles stammered nervously, and Hobie smirked a bit before shooting a bit of web onto the underside of the water silo’s roof and pulling both of them up.

Hobie landed his free hand against the side of the water tank, pressing his boots alongside it to sit in a sideways crouch. Finally, he sneered at Miles, still holding him at arm’s length in open air. “Think this is high enough, little brother?”

“W-Wait, what?” Miles’ face was torn between laughing and panicking. “Hobie, you can’t be serious; I was just messing with you!”

“Nah, you’re right; I’d have to chuck ya off the roof, at least.” He jerked his arm as if he was going to drop him, but his fingers tightened their grip on his coat.

“Hobie!” Miles laughed as he grabbed Hobie’s arm.

“Miles?!”

Both of them froze, eyes shifting to the roof access door where Rio had suddenly appeared. Hobie’s grip loosened, and Miles crawled up Hobie’s arm and shoulder, sort of perching on his back as they both stared at her.

“Ey, boss.” Hobie called casually, saluting politely with two fingers.

“Hi, mami…” Miles called a bit sheepishly, and she rested her palm over her face.

Miles cringed nervously, but not nervously enough to resist sneaking a poke under Hobie’s arm. The soul-withering glare Hobie gave him seemed to make him feel better.

“If you’re out thinkin’ I won’t kill a man in front of his mother, you’re off it.” He growled with a smirk. He took a few steps down, lowering Miles to the roof by his hands before dropping down himself. They approached Rio, one much more nervous than the other, and she just sighed as she looked at them. She smiled, the kind of smile a mother would definitely wear when her kids were doing something adorably stupid, and she reached out to hug Miles close.

Hobie rested his hands in his pockets, chuckling as he stepped back. “Yeah, on that one, I should probably head on.” He sighed dramatically, spinning around and walking toward the other side of the roof. “Got a few little brothers to toss off roofs and all.”

He shot a pair of webs to snatch his guitar and the remains of his food bag from where he’d left them, stepping up onto the edge and poking at his watch. “Nice meeting you, ma’am!” He waved as he jumped down; there was a clatter from the fire escape before silence.

Rio hummed and ruffled Miles’ hair. “You do seem to take to the wild ones, don’t you?”

Miles rolled his eyes a little while she wasn’t looking. “You’re not wrong, I guess. Sorry, if we scared you, I mean. Did you need something?”

“Just wanted to say I’m proud of you.” She was tapping her phone, and when he saw the screen, he couldn’t help grinning. It was a clip from the news; apparently, he owed Hobie a fancy milkshake next time they met.

#a panda writes a thing #tickling #hobie brown #atsv tickle #miles morales

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