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foreingersgod · 1 year ago

Note

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

#juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #juju watkins x you #juju watkins imagine #juju watkins oneshot #wlw #lesbian #women’s basketball #foreingersgod

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sadnymi · 1 year ago

Text

Down bad

[Lorenzo Berkshire×reader][TTPDM]

Words:2.5k

I was sitting outside the castle on a bench in the garden, enjoying the warm breeze and losing myself in the music playing through my headphones. It was one of those rare peaceful moments, and I was soaking it in. Suddenly, I felt a shadow fall over me. I looked up and saw Lorenzo Berkshire smiling down at me.

"Hey," I said, taking off my headphones.

"Hey," he replied, sitting next to me. "Nice headphones."

"Thanks," I said, a bit taken aback. Why was he talking to me?

"Where'd you get them?" he asked, leaning in slightly.

"My mom got them for my birthday," I replied, still confused. "Why are you talking to me?"

He chuckled. "They're really cool. What are you listening to?"

"A Muggle artist," I said cautiously. "I don't think you'd like it."

"Why not?" he asked, his smile widening.

"Well," I hesitated, "maybe because you and your friends have bullied me and half the half-bloods here?"

He laughed, a sound that was surprisingly pleasant. "I didn't do such a thing."

"Your friends did," I shot back.

"Well, I'm not them, am I?" he said, his face too close to mine now. "Show me what you're listening to."

I sighed but handed over one of my earbuds. He put it in and raised an eyebrow as "A man without love " by Engelbert Humperdinck started playing.

He listened for a moment, then grinned. "This is brilliant! Why would you think I wouldn't like this?"

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know, maybe because you lot act like Muggle things are beneath you?"

"Not all of us," he said. "Besides, if I listened to this more often, maybe I'd have a better taste in music."

I couldn't help but Smile. "Well, you're off to a good start."

"So," he said, leaning in even closer, "you gonna show me more Muggle music, or are you keeping all the good stuff to yourself?"

"Depends," I said, smirking. "Are you gonna stop your friends from bullying mine?"

He shrugged. "I'll think about it. As long as you promise to share more music with me."

"Deal," I said, smiling.

And this was the start of the disaster.

We started hanging out more often, much to the surprise of everyone around us. At first, it was just casual encounters in the garden or the library. He always found ways to sit close, his leg brushing against mine or his arm around the back of my chair. His presence was intoxicating, his charm irresistible.

It was a battle I was losing, hard.

There was the time when we were sitting by the Black Lake, the sun reflecting off the water. I was telling him a funny story about my latest Potions mishap when he reached over and started playing with a strand of my hair.

"Does your hair always smell this nice?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes couldn't help but smile. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lorenzo."

"Not even a little bit?" he teased, leaning in closer.

"Maybe a little," I admitted, laughing. His fingers tangled in my hair were surprisingly gentle, and I found myself leaning into his touch.

And then come the night when we were sitting in the common room, I was nervously studying for our upcoming Transfiguration exam. Lorenzo, clearly not as concerned, was lounging next to me.

"Why are you so worried?" he asked, leaning over to look at my notes.

"Because I don't want to fail," I said, exasperated. "Some of us actually need to study, you know."

"Well," he said, taking a strand of my hair and twirling it around his finger, "you're smart. You'll do fine. Besides, you've got me to help you."

I looked at him skeptically. "You? Help me?"

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face," he said, grinning. "I've got brains too, you know."

"Prove it," I challenged.

He leaned even closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "I'll have to show you then," he whispered, making my heart skip a beat.

Before his next Quidditch match, he found me, nervously twisting my scarf in my hands. He walked up and bent down to whisper in my ear.

"Wish me luck?" he asked, his breath warm against my skin.

"Good luck," I said softly, feeling a shiver run down my spine.

He smiled, then leaned in and kissed my cheek. "For good luck," he murmured before jogging off to join his team.

I sat there, stunned and blushing furiously. The girls around me whispered and giggled, I couldn't focus on anything but the spot where his lips had brushed my skin.

Our time together became more frequent, and with every passing day, he found new ways to get closer. Whether it was during study sessions in the library, where he'd absentmindedly play with my hair while I talked, or during meals in the Great Hall, where he'd steal food from my plate and grin at my protests, Lorenzo made sure he was a constant presence.

The next two months flew by in a whirlwind of flirtation and playful banter. Lorenzo and I were almost inseparable, spending every free moment together. He made me laugh, challenged me, and somehow always managed to make my heart race. I finally understood why every girl at Hogwarts was obsessed with him.

Then come that day, we were by the Black Lake. I was sitting on the edge of the dock, absorbed in a book, when suddenly a splash of water hit me.

"Lorenzo!" I yelled, looking up to see him grinning at me mischievously. "What was that for?"

"Just thought you could use a break from all that reading," he said, still smiling.

I rolled my eyes and turned back to my book, trying to ignore him. But then he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned torso. I couldn’t help but stare, my cheeks flushing, and I couldn't even remember what I was about to yell at him.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"Cooling off," he replied nonchalantly, before diving into the lake.

I shook my head, trying to focus on my book, but the water kept splashing around me. Annoyed, I stood up. "Are you crazy, Lorenzo? Get out of there!"

There was no response. He was nowhere to be seen. I sighed, leaning over the edge of the dock. "Very funny, Enzo. Now come out!"

Still nothing. Panic started to set in. "Okay, not funny anymore. Get out now!"

Suddenly, he emerged from the water right in front of me, pulling me down with a strong tug. I screamed in surprise as I hit the cold water, surfacing to find him laughing.

"You're insufferable!" I yelled, splashing water at him.

"You should see your face!"

I swam towards the dock, but he caught me by the waist and pulled me back. His face was inches from mine, and his eyes were sparkling. He gently pushed my wet hair away from my face.

"You're so beautiful when you're mad," he said softly, and before I could respond, he kissed me.

I pulled away, stunned, but a smile crept onto my face. He kissed me again, and this time, I kissed him back, my arms wrapping around his neck. The world seemed to disappear, the cool water contrasting with the warmth between us.

Laughing, I pushed him under the water, but he quickly resurfaced, grabbing my leg and pulling me down with him. Under the water, he kissed me again, the sensation intensified by the surroundings.

When we surfaced, both of us laughing and gasping for air, I knew. One thing was for sure: I was down bad, very, very bad for Lorenzo Berkshire. And for a moment, I knew cosmic love.

I woke up next day with this smile on my face sleep felt impossible that night my mind replying what happened over and over again.

I was walking down the hallway, when I saw him. Lorenzo was kissing a Hufflepuff girl, right there in front of everyone. I froze, my heart sinking into my stomach. This couldn’t be happening. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

I walked up to them, my legs feeling like lead. The girl smiled and waved him goodbye, completely oblivious to my presence. When I stood in front of him, he looked down and smiled. "Hey, beautiful."

I raised an eyebrow, trying to process the scene I had just witnessed. "Are you fucking kidding me, Lorenzo?"

He looked genuinely confused. "Hey, what’s wrong?"

"What’s wrong?" I echoed, my voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and anger. "You were literally kissing that girl, Lorenzo!"

He shrugged, still smiling. "Yeah, and?"

"And?" I felt like I was going to explode. "What the fuck, Lorenzo?"

He looked at me, still clueless. "I don’t understand why you’re so mad."

I just stared at him, unable to believe his nonchalance. Then I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "Is this some kind of joke?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "Okay, Lorenzo, I’m going to ask you one thing."

"Sure," he said, leaning against the wall. "What is it?"

"What are we?" I asked, my voice trembling with the effort to stay calm.

He looked at me, genuinely puzzled. "What do you mean, what are we?"

"Damn it, Lorenzo! What are we? What's so hard about that?"I repeated, my patience wearing thin.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We're friends."

"Friends?" I echoed, feeling like I had been punched in the gut. "We’re friends?"

"Yeah, sure we are," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I felt a wave of anger and disbelief wash over me. "And you go around kissing all your friends?"

He sighed again, this time with a hint of frustration. "So that’s it. You’re mad because I kissed you."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. "Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not mad because you kissed me, Lorenzo. I’m mad because not even 24 hours later, you’re kissing another girl!"

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. "It was just casual, Y/N. Me, you, even this—it’s nothing serious. We were having fun."

I felt tears gathering in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Casual?" I laughed bitterly, my voice breaking. "Casual?"

He looked at me, genuinely surprised."Y/N, you didn’t really fall in love with me, did you?"

I felt like I had been slapped. "Fuck you, Enzo. Fuck you to hell." I turned and walked away, not looking back.

Lorenzo was the charming prince, Hogwarts' golden boy, but I learned the hard way that he was indeed a Slytherin for a reason.

Unlike other Slytherins who might hex your cauldron to explode or jinx your broom to veer off course, Lorenzo wielded his charm like a weapon. With a dazzling smile and those irresistible dimples, he'd make you feel like the center of the universe, only to shatter your heart with a well-timed wink and a “Thanks, but no thanks.” Who needs dark magic when you have a face like that?

There were only two weeks left before the end of the year, and I was completely losing it. I hated him, loved him, and missed him all at once. One moment, I imagined myself killing him, and the next, I wished he'd come and apologize, begging for my forgiveness.

But what if that didn't happen? What if I couldn't have him? I might just die. It wouldn't make any difference.

I woke up every day soaking my pillow with tears. How could I let this happen? How could I be so stupid?

Meanwhile, Lorenzo continued his life with those charming, stupid smiles and beautiful eyes. He walked past me like I didn't exist. He might have looked like an angel, but he was the devil.

When the last day of school arrived, I didn't even care about which house won the cup this year. I cried the whole way home, telling my mom that I hated all the stupid romcoms we'd watched together and that I never wanted to watch them again. She realized I had it bad. She tried to comfort me and asked what happened, but I couldn't tell her—it was too embarrassing.

I even told Dad that he should've sent me to a Muggle school instead and that I hated his wizarding world. He looked confused, but then Mom explained it was the effect of getting my heart broken for the first time. She told me it would get better.

But it didn’t and I found myself crying like a baby at the gym. Fuck it, fuck him, and fuck how naive I was. The embarrassment of standing there, asking him what we were—oh god, how can I erase this from my memory?

I'd spent so many nights curled up with romcoms, thinking love was magical and perfect. Turns out, love was a lot more like getting hit by a Bludger. And there I was, at the gym, sobbing over a guy who probably couldn't spell "commitment" if his life depended on it.

Every time I saw a couple holding hands or laughing together, I'd roll my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. "Fuck off," I'd mutter, then promptly burst into tears. My emotional stability was like a broken wand—completely unreliable and prone to dramatic outbursts.

And the worst part? The whole "what are we" conversation. I cringed every time I thought about it. Standing there, pouring my heart out, only to get shot down. If I could cast a memory charm on myself, I would. Obliviate the whole damn thing.

But no, instead I was stuck replaying it over and over, like some sort of twisted, heart-wrenching Pensieve. My own personal horror show.

In the end, all I could do was laugh at the absurdity of it all. There I was, heartbroken and humiliated. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and told myself I'd be okay. Somehow, someday, I'd be okay. Even if it meant cursing every romcom ever made and swearing off charming, beautiful-eyed devils forever.

I was sitting on my bed, my legs up on the wall, and my hand furiously scribbling in my diary.

I hate it when he lies.

I hate it when he makes me laugh.

Even worse when he makes me cry.

I hate it when he's not around,

And the fact that he didn't call.

But mostly, I hate the way I don't hate him.

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

And yeah, I didn’t write that. Katarina Stratford did. But who would know? Those egoistic evil wizards wouldn’t know about Kat or the movie my Muggle mother showed me when I was ten, making me believe every bad boy is just like Patrick Verona—pretty and just misunderstood.

I stared at the song playing on my phone. The same Engelbert Humperdinck song that played when this all started: same Engelbert Humperdinck, same man, same,I feel you cause i too woke up every day, start to break up Knowing that it's cloudy above every day I start out, then I cry my heart out.

How could I have been so foolish, thinking Lorenzo was anything other than what he appeared to be? I wanted to believe he was different, that underneath his charming facade, there was a heart that beat just for me. But I was wrong, and now I was left to pick up the pieces of my shattered dreams.

I let out a sigh, closing my diary and tossing it aside. The ceiling above seemed to blur as tears welled up in my eyes. I could still see his smile, hear his laugh, and feel his touch. And despite everything, I missed him. I missed the way he made me feel special, even if it was all a lie.

"Casual," he said. Yes, because it was casual when he said I was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Oh wait, not just Hogwarts, but the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. Of course it was casual when he kissed my finger when I accidentally cut it while turning a page. And it was casual when he said he couldn’t spend a day without talking to me. Or when he told his friends he couldn’t meet them because he was going to the lake with "his girl." He called me his fucking girl.

Cause fuck it, I was in love. And fuck him if I can't have us.

My phone lit up. I grabbed it and rolled my eyes when I saw what it was—a notification that he added a story on his Instagram. I had turned on notifications for him back when I was crushing on him.

It was a song. Not just any song, but the same damn song. I started to think this was the doing of Engelbert Humperdinck maybe promoting for a new project.

My heart dropped as I opened it. The lyrics were: "So, if you see my girl please send her home to me. Tell her about my heart that's slowly dying."

I sat straight, my eyes widened when a message popped up on my screen with his name.

Lorenzo: Does Engelbert Humperdinck have any song about fucking it up so hard and trying to fix it?

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x you #lorenzo berkshire one shot #lorenzo berkshire fanfic #lorenzo berkshire smut #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire fluff #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #Lorenzo Berkshire x y/n

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frantic-fiction · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday

(Gif: Alistairs)

Prompt: The gang throwing Spawn Astarion and Redeemed Durge a joint birthday party 😭

Credit to @bauldersgrave69 for letting me use their idea. Hopefully, you like it.

Astarion x F!Reader (Mostly Gender neutral but reader does wear a dress)

Warning: None. No spoilers just durge's memory lost and violent tendencies. This is pretty much pure fluff.

Word Count: 3.1k

It's been almost a year since you found yourself aboard a mindflayer ship, forcibly shoved into an adventure - one with life-changing choices. Choices that left you with a family not bonded through blood and torture, but one of trust, acceptance, and a chance to change something in yourself that you didn't fully comprehend when you woke up in that pod.

And the most important piece of the puzzle is currently walking next to you. As close as appropriate in public, moving away from the waterfront, Astarion would occasionally drop kisses on any exposed skin he could reach. But for the most part, he was content to hold your hand in his, just happy to be with the love of his life.

It was your date night. After the chaos had died down, you and Astarion had established this weekly tradition. Neither of your previous lives before the tadpoles allowed for much personal exploration or relaxation. The dates aimed to help take back both the agencies that had been torn away violently by cruel masters.

It was Astarion's week to choose the activity. He decided to push his boundaries just a bit and go dancing - not the stifling ballroom dances Cazador demanded be performed during various public events. No, Astarion wanted liveliness, drinks, and a wonderful band.

So, he bought a lovely pale yellow sundress from a stall by your apartment and added his personal style, ending with a beautiful garment - swirls and intricate patterns embroidered as accents. Donning himself in a dashing doublet, dark greys, and black accented with a similar shade of yellow.

The blushing mermaid was brilliant, the band jovial with pounding drums, and excellent lute and violin playing. Drinks were shared until heads were fuzzy. It took a bit for Astarion to work up the courage to dance, but he quickly offered his hand. The moment it was offered, your drink was down, and with a flushed face and a smile, you took his hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

The rest of the night was spent spinning and dipping until you were dizzy. You had never really danced, and if you had, that memory was lost and not worth finding. At times, you would stumble into a spin or out of a dip, but Astarion was always there to make sure you stayed on your toes with a firm hold.

When the energy of the night waned down and the band began to play a slower tempo, Astarion didn't hesitate to pull you flush against his body. His coolness was a pleasant contrast to the stuffiness of the mostly crowded tavern.

Astarion bent down to kiss you below your ear, whispering, "I don't think I will ever run out of thank yous."

"For dancing with a handsome man, I can say it was tiring but I'm having fun." The word is still a foreign concept, but one you and Astarion have become incredibly good at together.

"Yes, this night has been the best dancing I've done in years." You card your hand through his curls; his hand trails the curve of your spine. "But my thanks go beyond tonight, with you, my love. I have felt - you see I..."

Words seem not to be able to grasp what Astarion wants to say. So, he simply smiles and captures your lips in a kiss. Not everything needs words to express.

****

"My sweet, I believe we forgot dear Evelyn's oranges."

You had just entered the neighborhood where your house resided. It wasn't anything big; neither you nor Astarion liked the idea of a big space with rooms that would stay empty and cold.

Thankfully, you came across Miss Evelyn, a sweet elderly gnome who owned a multifamily home. Her son had sadly died when the Absolute took Baldur's Gate. His wife and child went back to her parents, leaving Evelyn with a lot more space than she needed.

Astarion and you rented the upper portion of the home. The rent was cheap and you wish to pay more, and when you tried to explain just how much wealth you could spare, Evelyn shut it down immediately. She said that her price was fair and all she needed to make it for herself.

There was no room to argue after that, so you and Astarion took it upon yourselves to help her in any way she would allow - like getting oranges.

"I'll run out early before she wakes. Eve won't even notice."

"If you try to throw me on the chopping block again, I will not be making any cookies for a month."

"You would never!" You gasped, clutching your chest in dramatics.

"Don't tempt me, darling; I can be very stubborn." He said this, holding the gate to the property for you.

"Star, you know how her disappointed look makes me feel," the gravel crunched under your feet, the porch light to the house breaking through the dark.

"Yes, well, you'll just have to hope she made her bedtime." He kissed your cheek smugly and walked ahead, taking the stairs two at a time.

His shoes hit the wood boards of the porch when you heard, "Oh good evening Evelyn dear, I do have to apologize; my love completely forgot to get you oranges. By the time I realized their mistake, the vendor was already gone for the evening."

Handsome fucking asshole. Hands bunched up the skirt as you followed up the steps. He is going to have quite the time having any post-date fun with the way he's playing.

Making it to his side, Evelyn's in her chair, a basket of walnuts beside her. She didn't say anything for a moment, leaving only the crickets. Grabbing a walnut, she placed it on the table and slammed a hammer you did not see, cracking the shell before popping the flesh into her mouth.

"I figured, you two never get the things I want when it's your date night. Whatever, just get them tomorrow; your visitors gave me these walnuts so I'm not too bothered." The words were jumbled between almost toothless gums and walnut bits. A few pieces flew outwards with trails of spittle.

"Visitors?"

"Yeah, that little ragtag group you got. The bald one gave them to me. Told me something about 'Boo' thinking it would be polite since I let them break in and all."

Astarion and you met eyes, confusion reflecting each other's. Why was Minsc here?

"Did you plan something?" You asked.

"No," Astarion quickly turned to Evelyn, " I hope our little friends haven't been too much of a bother. Have a wonderful evening, my dear. Your oranges will be in your fruit bowl come morning."

He grabbed your hand and made for the stairs to your floor. Evelyn simply grumbled "They better be, pointy," before slamming the hammer down again.

You started to pull Astarion faster up the remaining stairs. But as soon as you reached for the door, Astarion halted you with an arm snaking around your middle. His mouth captured yours in a kiss, fast and heavy before you could even speak.

You melted. It's automatic, instinctual. You sigh carding you finger in his hair tugging on the roots. The orange incident quickly forgotten and the heavy annoyances with it. Not even the question of why your friends have broken into your home during date night mattered. His lips were gone too soon.

"I don't know about you, my sweet, but I believe our little weirdos have been very rude to us." He breathed into your ear before giving it a nibble. You nodded slightly, pulling his face to your neck. The he scrapes his fangs against you throat and you gasped

"I think they should have learned by now that I like to keep you to myself at night. And on our lovely date night, where you have been teasing me all night with this garment."

He pressed your back roughly against the door. The hinges whined against the force. You kiss him again, feeling his leg press between your legs. "And how am I to know that I shouldn't be ravishing you right here against this door."

"OKAY, OKAY. WE GET IT, ARESHOLE. DON'T INTERRUPT DATE NIGHT," Gale yelled.

"Maybe the next time we think about doing something nice for you two shits, I'll remember to bring earplugs," Wyll followed.

Astarion stepped you both back fully on your feet. "Maybe this time they will finally learn." Placing one last soft kiss on you cheek, he fully pulled away and moved to open the door.

You couldn't say what you had expected to see walking into your home. But this was not it.

Bright colors of balloons cluttering the floors, strings of paper tossed haphazardly around your living room. Your dining table is scatered with wrapped gifts and a frosted cake.

Each of your companions stood, all staring at Astarion and you, a mixture of disgust, excitement, and boredom (though that was mainly Lae'zel, who stood brooding in the farthest corner with a purple cone on her head). Oddly, they all had pointy hats tied to their heads. Even little Boo.

Scratch, who with all the excitement of seeing all of his friends back at his home, had begun to use his as a chew toy. Minsc pleaded with him to stop and seemed to be having a three-way conversation between the dog, Boo, and himself.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Karlach screamed as if the words had been burning in her mouth for hours. This had each and every one of your companions repeating the same phrase.

The shocked and confused looks Astarion and you shared must be very evident because Wyll was quick to jump in. “You both shared with us not knowing when your birthday was, so we’ve all decided what better time to celebrate than the start of our journey.”

This had Astarion's hand tightening in yours, his posture stiffening. Your heart hammered against your ribs, tears brimming over, trickling down flushed cheeks.

You don’t deserve this. The little voice echoes, the same voice that chokes you at night when you lay crying in Astarion's arms as he helps you calm from a panic attack. These people. This beautiful, caring family you stumbled upon was too good for such a broken, tainted person like you. To even think about this, planning a party with cake and presents simply to celebrate you and Astarion just living another year.

Him you understand; you had already been silently planning something similar for him for months. But it’s Astarion. The man who saved you, the one who reminds you each day that you are loved and safe and no longer the puppet of a cruel god. Yes, Astarion deserves to be celebrated and showered with gifts and affection. But you? The same person whose hands are stained so red with blood you still can’t comprehend the full extent of your depravity. No, you don’t think so.

"Well," Astarion’s voice cracks, and he takes a shaky breath, clearing his voice. "I guess being the center of attention for the night should make up for postponing my plan to bend my beloved over the cou-"

This snaps you out of your self-deprecation. You clamp your hand over his mouth loudly saying, "Thank you guys; this is… well, this is just perfect."

You rip your hand away when you feel the wet glide of Astarion's tongue and the scratch of a fang. "Seriously," you groan, wiping your hand off on his chest before stepping away and walking up to give out your first of many hugs.

****

"You cheated, you fucking bastard!" Astarion points accusingly over the coffee table, glaring at Gale. "I can sense a spell; you're not as clever as you think, wizard!"

You rub his arms, silently telling him to chill but shooting a glare of your own at the man. "Not to mention Karlach is not a very good actor," you say bluntly, causing the tiefling to scoff in offense. "You know I love you, Kar, but you have never been a good liar. Gale, if you won't play by the rules, I won't be responsible if Star gets violent."

Getting up from the couch, you peck Astarion's cheek and collect the pile of dessert plates. Astarion stands to start his turn of charades, beginning to mime out his word as Gale, Wyll, Karlach, and even Lae'zel tries to guess. Though Lae'zel only seemed to guess various ways to harm an enemy.

Minsc has himself in a deep talk with Boo. The two sat close to the bay window where Halsin and Jaheria had found themselves in a game of chess. By the looks of it, Halsin was winning, and Jahiera was none too happy.

Placing the dishes in the sink, you quickly wash the cake crumbs and frosting off. You carelessly toss each on the drying rack, Astarion always hated when you did dishes always complaining of the many chips you keep putting in the ceramics.

Once done, you walked up to Shadowheart where she was dividing the small pile of presents into two.

"Thank you," you said softly, catching the half-elf's attention. It had come to light that Shadowheart had been the one to bring the idea up. "This has been more than I ever expected."

"We're family," was all she said. And you guessed it was all that needed to be. Just a simple act of love for two people in a large, slightly dysfunctional family. You move automatically, practically tackling Shadowheart into a hug.

"This means more to Astarion and me than we'll ever be able to express." The two of you don't mention the hoarseness in your voice. And if Shadowheart felt a few tears drop on her collar, she doesn't say.

She simply hugs you back just as tight. Once you break away, Shadowheart calls for everyone to gather for presents.

It's a novel concept to open gifts while everyone stares on, waiting for expressions of happiness and thanks. It's awkward, and both Astarion and yourself share the feeling of being out in the deep end. But it's kind of fun.

You open boxes to find books and painting supplies (a hobby you picked up after you saved that rather stuck-up painter from the Zhentarim last year.) But the best is a medium-sized portrait of the party together, something you've been begging everyone for months to do. It's beautiful, and you are already thinking of the perfect location to hang it up.

Astarion receives new embroidery supplies, a shiny new dagger, and a small box. It's black velvet, and when he opens the hinged lid, a plain-looking copper band sits in the middle of a makeshift pillow.

Never one to hold his tongue, Astarion cheekily says, "Oh how quaint, look at this darling; doesn't it look just like the magic ring the tiefling boy tricked you with."

You shoulder him, and he laughs. "Actually, it's a bit more magical than that little trinket; we went to a lot of trouble for that thing, so hush," Jahiera scolds.

"Oh then please regale us with the story of this mysterious gift," Astarion smirks.

"They call it the Sunwalker's gift. It's a rare magical artifact that protects a person from light sensitivity," Shadowheart says.

It doesn't process for Astarion right away, but your breath instantly catches. You freeze in shock; how in the hells did they find this? You thought it was just a legend.

"Gale got a lead, and long story short, it's real, it's here. Fangs, you can walk in the sun mate." Karlach smiles bouncing on her feet, her flames flickering a bit brighter in her excitement.

"However, it's not perfect. You can still succumb to some effects of your hypersensitivity. But the ring should allow at least a solid 8 hours of sun exposure." Halsin quickly adds.

Astarion doesn't take his eyes off the ring. His pointer finger smooths over the tarnished band. He swallows dryly, blinking back tears as quick as they come. "This… this" he's lost for words, and no one rushes him. They all know. "Thank you, will you excuse me?"

He's gone before anyone can react. There is no judgment; everyone knows strong emotions are not something Astarion can process anywhere but alone or with just you.

"This is amazing. I'm pissed you didn't let me in on this surprise, but from both Astarion and I, thank you all." You motion for a hug and they all pile in.

Astarion doesn't return, but no one expects him to. The party wraps up quickly after that; everyone says their goodnight and departs into the night. You lock up the house and retreat to the bedroom. He sits by the window, staring out into the silent city. He's shirtless, his pale skin ethereal in the moonlight. The ring dances across his knuckles absentmindedly, his chin in his other hand.

You make your footsteps purposefully loud as you approach the vampire. Your hands snake themselves around him, caressing his smooth skin of the chest. He catches the ring and turns his face to meet your eyes. You push some hair out of his eye. He's been crying.

"Hey handsome," you smiled, kissing his lips. He turns towards you. Pulling you on to his lap and cups you face. There's no rush to the dance of your lips. Just soft brushes and tongue caress. You pull away panting.

"Gods, I'll never get tired of this."

"Good cause I'm quite smitten with you." You grab his hands, taking the ring from his palm. You slide it onto his left ring finger, the magic tightening the metal to fit perfectly. You press a soft kiss to it sliding off. "Now come; I want to cuddle."

He helps rid you of your dress, slipping on one of his shi in replacement. You both slide under the sheet, Astarion pulls you onto his chest, strong arms enclosing you. Your head is tucked under his chin. He presses a kiss to your hairline whispering I love you.

You play with his hand, taking it off and putting it on each finger, watching it shift to fit each one. It was quiet for a while. Both of you are just soaking in each other.

"Our family," Astarion says quietly, his chest rumbling under your ear. You drop his hand and look up. He has a look of pure love. "The term has been one that has only caused me pain for 200 years. To think I would find a new one that could contest 200 years of shit is…pleasant. Something I didn't expect to have again"

You smile brightly, grabbing his face and pressing your lips back onto his. "We really lucked out, didn't we. Now how about we get some sleep, and in the morning, we go get Evelyn's oranges together."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just running his hand down your spine, stopping at the swell of your bum and back up again. He kisses you again. "There is nothing I'd like more."

Feedback is welcome and always makes me smile, hate does not! Have a nice day, cheers!

#astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic

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cozmowrites · 9 days ago

Text

America's Birthday (2025)

American! Reader

=====

"Wait, wait, wait," Bakugou muttered, his brow twitching as he watched you draw stars and stripes on the whiteboard of the shared dorm lounge. "You're tellin' me the point of this holiday is just... blowin' crap up and grillin' meat?"

You turned to him with a grin, hands on your hips. "That's one way to put it. But yeah, kinda! It's Independence Day. America's birthday! Fireworks, sparklers, barbecue, friends... it's a whole vibe, Bakugou."

He scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "That's just another Tuesday for me."

You laughed and tossed him a little American flag toothpick, which he caught without looking. "C'mon, you can't tell me the idea of a whole night dedicated to fireworks doesn't appeal to you even a little."

"I am fireworks, dumbass."

You rolled your eyes fondly. "Okay, yeah, Mr. Walking Explosion, I know. But I'm talking about the aesthetic kind. You know, colors, sparkles, shapes. Like sparklers! I wanna get sparklers and set 'em off on the roof tomorrow night!"

He groaned. "Why would you waste money on weak-ass fire sticks when I could just make explosions that actually look good?"

"Because it's tradition!" you insisted, jabbing a finger at him. "And because they're pretty!"

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, clearly about to argue again, but the look on your face made him pause. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about it, how animated your hands got... he clicked his tongue and looked away.

"Tch. Whatever. Not like I care."

+++

By the time tomorrow rolled around, you were practically bouncing. You'd managed to snag some sparklers from a local shop that catered to foreigners and convinced a few classmates to grill some food on the dorm terrace. But Bakugou? He hadn't said a word all day about the holiday.

Not that you were surprised. He wasn't exactly the sentimental type. Still, you saved a box of sparklers just for the two of you, so you could show him what it was really like.

As the sun dipped behind the skyline and the heat of the day finally cooled, you climbed up to the roof with your box tucked under your arm, excited to make this feel a little like home. The first sparkler fizzled out before it even lit.

You frowned and tried another. It sparked for a second... then died. Again.

Again.

You tried to laugh it off, but your chest started to feel tight. It was stupid, but all you'd wanted was a sliver of something familiar and warm. Something that reminded you of summers back home.

Instead, you were sitting alone on the roof with a box of defective sparklers and a well of tears pricking behind your eyes.

"Dumb fireworks," you muttered, blinking hard. "Stupid imported crap..."

"Oi."

You turned your head, sniffling. Bakugou stood a few feet away, his hands shoved in his pockets, his usual scowl softened just slightly.

"I figured I'd find you sulkin' up here."

"I'm not sulking," you muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "It's just... the sparklers didn't work, and it was dumb to get so excited about them, and—"

He sat beside you with a grunt, close but not touching. "It's not dumb."

You blinked at him. "...Did you just say something nice?"

He looked like he regretted it instantly. "Shut up."

You let out a shaky laugh. "Sorry. Just didn't expect you to show up."

Bakugou didn't answer right away. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something small, looked like a wire fuse coiled around some sort of metal casing.

"Okay, look," he grumbled, avoiding eye contact. "I figured those bargain-bin sparklers might crap out. So... I made somethin'. Don't make a big deal outta it."

You tilted your head. "You made something?"

Before you could ask more, he hovered his hand over the little device in his palm, and it sparked to life. Soft, crackling light burst upward, like a miniature fountain of warm golden fireworks. Then another burst came, trailing shimmering embers that floated in the air like fireflies.

Your breath caught. It wasn't loud or violent like his usual explosions. It was... gentle. Beautiful. Like magic trapped in a bottle.

He kept his palm steady, eyes narrowed in concentration. "They're small, 'cause I had to tweak the ignition to lower the blast pressure. But they won't burn you. See?" He rotated his hand slightly so one of the trails brushed against your arm... warm and harmless.

You stared at it, wide-eyed. "Bakugou... this is amazing."

He huffed. "Yeah, well. Told you I am fireworks."

The corners of your lips twitched upward. "You made these... for me?"

"Tch. Don't flatter yourself," he muttered, but his ears turned a little red. "You were bitchin' about wanting sparklers. Thought I'd shut you up before you cried about it."

You laughed and the tension melted off your shoulders. "Well... it worked. I'm not crying anymore."

"Good." He paused, then added, almost too quiet to hear, "Didn't like seein' you upset."

Your heart skipped.

You looked at him again, the glow of his homemade sparklers painting his face in soft light. He wasn't looking at you, just watching the lights flicker and fade in his palm. But there was something vulnerable in his expression, something you'd never seen before.

"Bakugou..." you said gently, "You're kind of a softie under all that angry yelling, aren't you?"

He groaned and snapped his fingers to cut off the sparks. "And now I regret everything."

You laughed again and leaned your head on his shoulder, just for a second. "Thanks, Katsuki. Really."

He stiffened slightly, but didn't move away.

"...Yeah. Whatever. Happy Birthday, America."

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

requests ツ

#anime and manga #boku no hero academia #writer #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugou #4th of july #july 4th #american student

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toomuchracket · 2 years ago

Text

you would cook, i'd do the nappies (birthday party!matty x reader smut)

honeymoon. babymaking. need i say more? enjoy <3

“shit, shit, matty, i'm close, m'so fucking close - oh, fuck!”

your husband groans happily into your core, hands latched onto the sides of your shaking thighs, dragging you back and forth over his face to catch the last of your orgasm. you release your grip on his hair, softly carding your fingers through it as the aftershocks subside, and release your thighs’ grip around his head; matty quietly says “nooooooo” when you climb off him and lie back down, and laughs when you roll your eyes.

for a couple of minutes, the two of you do nothing but peacefully lie side by side and catch your breath, listening to the ocean and the call of seabirds outside. once he's regained his, matty rolls over and rests his head on your bare chest, kissing the soft skin between your tits before he speaks. “morning, wifey.”

“hi, my love,” you pout your lips, and matty meets them with his own immediately. the tang of your own arousal on his lips makes you beam. “thank you for the lovely start to the day.”

“i should be thanking you, darling,” matty kisses you again. “letting me pull you onto my face when you were still half-asleep and all.”

you smile bashfully. “like it when you wake me up like that, baby. you know,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “you could wake me up by, like, actually fucking me, too, if you want.”

matty tilts his head to look at you properly. “really?”

you nod. “i think starting my day full of you would be the ideal way to do so.”

“christ,” matty buries his face into your chest - when he reappears, his pretty face is stretched into a shit-eating grin. “yeah, you're just desperate to be full of me, aren't you? i remember what you said last night, sweetheart.”

“oh my god,” you cover your face in your hands.

“ah! don't you hide from me, mrs healy,” matty pulls your hands from your face and takes them in his own, smiling; his love for you is evident in those beautiful eyes of his, and his excitement to finally be married to you is even more evident in the way he says your shared name. “it was hot as fuck, you telling me you want me to get you pregnant. i want it too, darling - starting a family with you has been a dream of mine for a long time, you know.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” matty kisses your nose. “a kid that's half you and half me, the best writer and the best frontman in the world? they'd be messianic levels of cool. and good-looking.”

you cackle, stroking his cheek with the side of your finger. “you're an idiot, you know that, yeah?”

“but i'm your idiot.”

“too fucking right, baby,” you beckon matty up to you with your index finger, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and connecting your lips to his. he kisses you back eagerly, whining into your mouth when you bite his lower lip and soothe it with your tongue - his hips begin to grind down into yours as the kiss deepens, want for you clear as the september morning itself. smiling against matty's lips, you reach for his left hand and the cool metal band on his ring finger. “you're mine, and i'm yours. forever.”

“fucking love the thought of that,” matty moans into your open mouth. “fucking love you.”

“i love you,” you whisper, moving your hips up to meet his. “and i want you. please?”

“shit,” comes the gasping reply - much to your irritation, though, matty’s hips slow to a stop. “i wish we could, baby. but we've got a brunch booking to get to.”

you whine. “but you've already eaten!”

matty laughs. “but you haven't! and you need to, darling - can't have my wife not being properly nourished, can i?”

“ugh, fine,” you frown; it drops from your face, though, as you look at your husband's rock-hard dick and an idea pops into your head. “can i have a starter now, though? promise i'll be quick.”

he smirks in response, shifting to lie back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. “by all means, sweet girl.”

***

humming happily, you lean your head back to rest on matty's chest, turning it to look up at him lovingly. “god, you really do have very talented hands.”

“well, i try,” matty pecks your lips, moving said hands from between your thighs so he can wrap his arms around your waist. the warm water of the bath sloshes further over your body as he does. “can't keep them off you, to be honest, sweetheart.”

“good. i don't want you to,” you sit up slightly, moving onto your knees to face your husband, beaming when he moans softly at the sight of your bubble-covered chest. his hands find your hips and pull you close to him - you both laugh at the way your knees slide on the slippery bottom of the bathtub, laughs that fade into a contented silence as you look into each other’s eyes. you rest your arms on his shoulders. “i love you.”

“i love you, my perfect girl,” matty presses his lips to your forehead, then to your own. “shall we get ready for bed now?”

“you're tired?” you giggle, tracing little patterns into your husband's shoulders. “s'pose it has been a long day.”

“no, i just want to take you to bed.”

“then take me,” you smile. matty opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it. “yes, that was a deliberate double entendre. who do you think i am?”

matty drops his head and nuzzles it into the crook of your neck; he drags his tongue up it, kissing over your jaw and cheek so he can whisper in your ear. “you’re my wife.”

the combination of matty's words and sultry tone send shivers careening across your body. has anything ever been so erotic? you doubt it.

“fuck,” you whine, hands clutching at the nape of matty's neck and at his side. “yeah, let's go to bed, baby.”

“whatever you want, wifey,” matty kisses you sweetly a final time, releasing his hold on your hips. “stand up for me, please, darling.”

you oblige, using him as leverage to move off your knees and blushing when he looks up at you and says “yeah, i like this view” - matty only laughs and pulls himself up to stand, leaning in to kiss you quickly before stepping out of the tub. he holds his hands out, and you gratefully take them as you step out too. the next little while is spent drying off, which really equates to you and your husband pressed up against each other while wrapped in a single plush towel, tenderly rubbing the other's skin and languidly making out. you've been desperate for matty to fuck you since he woke you up this morning, and these acts of intimacy - of pure love, actually - have you aching for him.

still, though, you prolong going to bed with him; once the two of you are suitably dry, you detach yourself from matty. “you go ahead through, baby, i need a second.”

matty's eyes fill with concern. “you alright, darling?”

“yeah, i'm fine,” you nod, smiling. “can feel a spot developing on my chin - just need to look and see if i packed spot gel or not, so i can put it on before i get… preoccupied.”

he giggles. “the realism of domesticity and married life. amazing. i'll meet you out there, sweetheart.”

“see you in a second, lover.”

a final wink, and matty leaves you alone in the bathroom, closing the door behind him. as soon as it clicks, you crouch and reach to the very back of the cupboard where you've stashed your skincare and makeup bags, not stopping until your fingertips make contact with a smooth cardboard box. carefully, you lift it over the bags, catching your spot gel with your middle finger and lifting it out too - you might have fibbed to matty about the main reason you stayed back in the bathroom, but you weren't kidding about the spot on your chin - and laying everything in your hands on the countertop.

after quickly applying the spot treatment and washing your hands, you lift the lid off the box and pull back the layers of tissue paper inside, revealing the most delicate piece of lingerie you think you've ever seen. it's new and custom-made for you, ivory-coloured and beautiful; the thong and babydoll dress are mostly silk, with ribbons for shoulder straps and a soft chiffon skirt-thing that does absolutely nothing to protect your modesty. you love it dearly, and you have a sneaking suspicion that matty will too.

he's also going to some effort for tonight, it seems - while you slip into the lingerie, you hear him connect his phone to the sound system in your villa and shuffle through his intimacy playlist, and it makes you smile. when he finally settles on otis redding's these arms of mine (a favourite for slow dancing in the kitchen at home, and also for subsequently having sex on the table), you take a deep breath, pull the claw clip from your hair, and step into the bedroom.

matty doesn't look at you right away, sat at the end of the bed tapping at his phone (likely queuing more songs of this ilk to soundtrack the romantic evening you have ahead of you). but you don't mind, not in the slightest; it just means you get to look at him undisturbed, freshly-tanned skin almost glowing in the dim light of the bedroom and curls made wilder by the steam from the bath. his wedding ring catches the light as he reaches to put his phone on the bedside table, and the sight of it sends a flush of lust right through you.

he's so beautiful. and he's yours.

“hi, darling,” matty starts as he sets the phone down, still not looking at you. “d'you find the- fuck me.”

you giggle as your husband looks at you and your outfit for the first time - half because of his swift change in conversation, half because the way he's looking at you is so overwhelming.

those eyes of his are filled with nothing short of wonder. it's like you've entranced him, actually. matty makes no attempt to move, or speak, or even blink until you've wandered over to stand in front of him; only when you softly cup his jaw does he move - to smile - and speak. “i am, without a doubt, the luckiest fucker on the planet. look at you, sweetheart.”

“you like my outfit, then?”

“like?!” matty scoffs. he brings his hands to your hips, sighing happily when you card your fingers through his hair. “it's beautiful. and it's so sexy. you look like fuckin, i don't know, aphrodite or something.”

you chuckle, leaning down to kiss his head. “thanks, baby,” you straighten up, and matty's gaze doesn't leave your chest for a second as you do. “oi, healy, my eyes are up here.”

he goes bright red - god, you love that you still have the ability to fluster him - and grins. “sorry, healy - fuck, i love saying that to you - but they were right there! what else was i meant to do? you know i'm obsessed with them.”

“well, do you want to see them now?” you say, hands moving to the ribbons on your shoulders.

matty laughs. “you're eager tonight, wanting to take your pretty outfit off as soon as you put it on.”

“mmm,” you kiss him, pulling back just as his tongue starts to swipe at your lower lip. “just been thinking about having sex with you all day. m'needy.”

“believe me, i know - two orgasms already today, and you want more?” matty tuts, but he can't keep the smile from his face. “don't worry, gorgeous, you'll get them. gonna give you everything you want, my love.”

“everything?”

you don't specify exactly what you mean, but matty nods slowly in understanding anyway, a small smile on his pretty face. without breaking eye contact, he lifts the skirt of your dress up and kisses your bare stomach. “gonna put a baby in there tonight, sweetheart.”

fuck.

“promise?” you say, shakily, breathily, legs on the verge of giving way from the plentiful desire striking between them.

“promise,” matty nods, still pressing gentle kisses to your belly. his hands move to the backs of your knees, tugging you forward to straddle him. “but i think we should do it again tomorrow, just to make sure. and the day after that, and so on, etc etc. you'll be flying home pregnant, i'll make sure of that, sweetheart.”

“hope that won't be too much of an effort for you,” you tease, giggling when he blows a raspberry into your neck - it turns to a full-on cackle when matty leans back and rolls you both over, caging your body into the mattress and continuing to blow raspberries into the bits of your exposed skin that he knows are ticklish.

“nah, it's a treat when you've got a wife as beautiful as i have,” your husband pulls himself up slightly to look in your eyes. there's nothing but love in his gaze, and you know yours is the same. “can i tell you a secret?”

“ooh, yeah.”

matty kisses you deeply, a proper head-spinner of a kiss, before murmuring against your lips. “i love making you cum.”

“that has got to be the worst-kept secret of all time.”

“well, let me tell you another one, then.”

“alright.”

another kiss, less gentle than the last; matty takes your lip between his teeth, dragging it to release as slowly as honey dripping from a spoon. “i really want to make you cum now.”

“again, obvious,” you pant out, body tingling with want. “can feel how hard you are, baby.”

matty laughs breathily, rolling his hips into yours almost as slowly as he released your lip. “and i can feel how wet you are. maybe we should take that pretty underwear off before you ruin it, yeah?”

“and then you'll ruin me?”

“of course, darling,” matty giggles, kissing your nose. “will you shuffle back and get comfy on those pillows, please?”

you nod. “d'you want me to take off my dress first, or…?”

your husband thinks for a second. “may i?”

“of course,” you smile. “just pull the end of the bows on my shoulders, and…”

“obsessed with that. you're like a little gift i get to unwrap,” matty beams. “well, you're already a gift. but you know what i mean. anyway,” he giggles excitedly as he undoes the straps of your lingerie, then moans softly when it falls down enough to reveal your chest. “fuck, you're so hot.”

“back at you, gorgeous,” you wink. “now - please get me naked and get inside me, baby.”

“as you wish, my love. what is it they say, again?” matty’s brow furrows in thought as he carefully pulls your dress and thong down - tapping your hip so you can raise it and he can slide them off - and lays them at the bottom of the bed. “happy wife, happy life?”

“yeah, think so.”

“well, mrs healy,” matty grins, leaning down to make out with you again and wrap your legs around him. “i'm about to make us both really bloody happy.”

you moan when he slides the head of his dick through your folds, gathering the abundant wetness. “sounds good- oh.”

“christ,” matty hisses as he slowly pushes into you, your body rearranging to welcome him home. he smiles down at you once he's bottomed out. “feel fucking perfect, as always.”

“shhhhh,” you giggle, hiding your face in his neck. “you know i can't take compliments. but,” you smirk. “i can take you.”

matty laughs, throwing his head back before kissing yours. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“well, in that case,” your husband pulls his hips back, almost fully leaving you, before thrusting quickly back in. you sigh happily at the feeling, and matty smiles. “feel good, my love?”

“perfect,” you breathe out, dopamine clouding your brain more and more with each precise thrust of matty's hips. a particularly pointed one has you keening. “oh, do that again, please.”

“this?” matty repeats the movement, over and over, groaning when you cry out and clench around him. “fuck, sweetheart, m'gonna cum if you keep doing that.”

“good.”

he smiles. “no, not yet, it isn't. wanna get my sweet girl off again first before i fill her up.”

there's another gush to your core. matty notices, of course, and laughs slightly deliriously. still fucking you borderline-animalistic, he leans down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, dragging his tongue up your chest and neck so he can talk directly in your ear. “you like me talking about that, darling? how i'm gonna pump you full of me, get you all sticky and dripping, with a baby in your belly? my baby? our baby?”

every muscle in your body is taut with pleasure; your throat is so constricted that you can barely speak, but you manage a whimper. “please. want…”

your brain is too cloudy to finish the rest of the sentence. somewhere in its recesses, you worry that matty will give in to his slight sadistic streak and make you finish it, but luckily, today, he understands. of course, that might be because he's just as fucked out as you are - he certainly looks it, eyes black and heavy, jaw slack, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pretty face. he's gorgeous, though, and he smiles shyly when you tell him as much. “i love you, my girl. gonna make you cum soon, yeah?”

you nod enthusiastically, softly reaching up to caress his face with your left hand. matty turns his head slightly, still fucking you, and kisses your rings, those pretty signifiers of the two of you belonging together and to each other; you smile as he does. “love you.”

“you're so fucking cute,” matty kisses you passionately. his leaning forward lets him thrust deeper inside you, and he moans into your mouth when you suddenly jolt and clench like a vice around him. “that the spot?”

“yeah.”

“in that case, then…” matty leans even further forward, quickly detaching your legs from his waist and resting his elbows beside your head. incongruous with the feral way he's driving his hips into your own and hitting that spot inside you, your husband tenderly brushes your hair from your face and smiles. “feeling good, darling?”

“so good,” you lift your head to kiss him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip in reaction to a particular thrust sending shockwaves through your nervous system. “m'getting close, baby.”

“good girl.”

shit. your eyes roll back in ecstasy at the phrase, and you cling to matty in a wordless plea for him not to stop. wordless, because your jaw is shaking too uncontrollably from the electric pleasure in every nerve ending on your body for you to talk. he knows, though.

and he knows exactly how to blow the fuse. “taking me so fucking well, sweetheart. will you cum for me?” matty coos, fucking you impossibly faster and deeper, dragging whines from your lips. “need to feel you, darling, need you to cum on my dick like a good girl and make me cum, make me fill you up with our baby. you'll do that for me, won't you? cum for me, so i can get you pregnant?”

you will. and you do, so quickly after the words leave his mouth that it would be embarrassing if you weren't so in love; your entire body tenses, so hard your muscles will surely ache tomorrow, and then releases. your limbs quiver, flailing wildly against the mattress, and your chest heaves as you cry out your husband's name. he cries out yours in reply, before crashing his lips onto yours, still erratically fucking into you even as you feel him spurt hot cum deep in your cunt.

matty all but falls on top of you once he's finished, your sweaty, satisfied bodies breathing heavily in rhythm. neither of you make any attempts to move for a while, aside from you gently stroking the back of his head and him pressing soft kisses to your collarbone - neither of you dare, lest you let any cum spill out of you instead of doing what it's designed for. you like being like this with matty, anyway, as physically and emotionally connected to him as possible, and you know he loves it too.

he's the first to move, though, lifting his head to kiss you softly before sitting back up onto his knees as best he can without slipping out of you. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you smile sleepily, stretching your arms with a yawn. “loved that. i think babymaking is my new favourite kind of sex.”

your husband laughs. “same, definitely,” he smiles, manoeuvring your legs so they're at a 90° angle to the rest of your body. “can i stretch your legs back a little bit, sweetheart? think it'll be the best way to pull out but still keep my cum in you.”

you nod, pulling your legs back enough so your backside lifts off the bed, while matty sucks air in through his teeth and pulls out. he grins. “that actually worked! god, i am so smart. right, let me just run and clean myself up

“ok, baby,” you smile as he speeds to the ensuite, sliding your hands under your backside to keep it up. giggling, you push it up and rest on your elbows in a sort-of shoulder stand. “feel like this is also quite smart, actually.”

matty peers around the doorframe and cackles. “you are literally doing gymnastics to keep my cum inside you, you weirdo.”

“your weirdo,” you tease, as matty comes over and carefully wipes the wetness from your entrance. he flops on the bed beside you, kissing your cheek. “but what can i say? i just really want to have your baby.”

matty rolls onto his side, stroking your cheek. “i want that too, darling,” he murmurs softly. “i really hope it happens soon.”

“i think it will,” you kiss him sweetly, then smirk. “if it's a boy, are we still naming him after you?”

“oh, fuck off.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #into the birthday partyverse #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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dedeinthewild · 8 months ago

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I feel so bad 'cause I just deleted the request, and I really really really liked it so I had so much fun writing and imagining it.

Thank you very much to whoever submitted it (and if you recognize your request I'm really sorry that I accidentally deleted your post) <3

arvid lindblad x reader, established relationship

~ "you're a guy, you just don't get it"

summary : A playful driver and his sweet, chaotic girl navigate life with laughter, mischief, and heartfelt surprises. From silly vlogs to thoughtful gifts, their love sparkles in all the little moments.

“Hey everyone, welcome to a day in my messy life,” the girl smiled into her phone camera, with a few bags of flour and a baking pan in front of her.

“Today I’ll decide as I bake if I want to make cinnamon rolls or focaccia. We’ll see.”

“You might be wondering when and why I’ll decide? Well, let’s call it the creative process.”

“Is that what you’d say in English? I have to admit, it sounds pretty cool.”

She always made these silly but sweet videos, filling her gallery with little clips where she smiled and chatted about her day while doing what she loved. It wasn’t about being glued to her phone, nor a desperate attempt to become an influencer, since all those vlogs stayed on her phone.

She and Arvid shared an iCloud, so every time she saved one of those videos, his phone lit up with a notification, telling him she’d stolen more space again. He didn’t see the point of filming himself cooking, drawing, or maybe taking the family dog for a walk when he was home, just to keep the video. For him, being in Prema had made video cameras and filming a way to connect with fans and do fun challenges, all with a clear purpose—something he couldn’t quite understand about the casual clips she recorded.

“You’re a guy; you just don’t get it.”

“And? Should I throw on a dress and wander around complaining about my hair?”

“That’s you to a T, dumbass,” she laughed, tossing one of her stuffed animals from the bed at him.

“Ouch.” Arvid pretended to rub his arm as if she’d actually hurt him.

“Direct hit,” she grinned.

Arvid flopped onto the bed, only his feet visible in the frame, still wearing his old plaid slippers that he used at home. His face was buried in the pillow, one arm wrapped around her torso, holding her close.

The London summer meant he could wear short sleeves and keep the window slightly open to catch the sounds of the street below. As the sun set on that late afternoon, he thought about how she’d never been the kind to like taking pictures or having her picture taken. So it was even stranger for her to make videos so casually, narrating little things as if she were the star of a teen TV show.

“You’ve got a nice smile in those,” he observed.

She often filmed horizontally when walking, from above, or from precarious spots where the phone was bound to fall—as evidenced by her battered and worn case. She turned to look at him with a playful scrunch of her nose, gazing into his dark eyes.

“Let’s talk serious matters,” she said, sitting up on the bed and crossing her legs under her.

“Oh god,” he sighed, teasing her.

“Where are you gonna be next week?”

“Here.”

Arvid was always so concise, so sure, it made her shake her head every time.

“No deals or meetings?”

“I hope not; it’s my birthday.”

“You say that as if I don’t already know!”

He laughed into the pillow, turning over to get a better look at her as the light from the window highlighted her and her accent thickened as she spoke.

“Did you know?”

“I’d kill you if I could.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I absolutely would.”

The driver raised his eyebrows, with a few defined curls falling over his forehead.

“Maybe I wouldn’t,” she smiled.

A week after that conversation would be his birthday, which he would celebrate, as he did every year, at his favorite restaurant with close family and a few chosen friends. As always, no one ever knew what to get him because he was one of those guys who was nearly impossible to buy for—he either had everything he wanted or was impossible to read. Not because he was picky, but because he was mysterious about what he truly liked. Still, she knew that beneath his sarcasm and confidence, he was soft-hearted.

“So, always the same?”

“Good steak and chips,” he said, arms crossed over his chest with one of the stuffed animals he’d given her tucked in his arms.

“I never thought you’d be a creature of habit.”

“That doesn’t sound nice.”

“I just looked it up in the dictionary.”

Arvid burst out laughing, his brilliant smile flashing, his laugh filling the room.

She spent the following week perfecting her gift, hiding with her laptop wherever she could while he wandered around the house when not on video calls with his team. Since she was little, she had always loved making things by hand, creating little cards and trinkets for the people she cared about most. This time, to go along with the gift she’d gotten him, she’d had the best idea.

On Arvid’s birthday evening, as they were getting ready to go out to dinner with his family and friends, she pulled out her laptop, calling him over just as he was putting on a sweater.

“What?” he asked, stepping out of the bathroom with his cologne bottle in hand.

“I want you to see something before we go.” She smiled shyly, setting the laptop on the desk.

When she hit play, the opening screen showed Arvid’s face, looking suspicious yet amused, while she blended some ricotta with an egg to make some type of cake she’d seen online.

“That’s not it, that’s so not it,” she said, smiling.

The real Arvid, the one watching the video, furrowed his brows for a second, recognizing the scene and wondering what it had to do with that evening.

“Don’t trust her, whatever she does,” he said to the camera, making a quick appearance before probably dashing off to his simulator upstairs.

The rest of the video was perfectly edited, showing every appearance Arvid had made in her vlogs, from a little laugh behind her as she made coffee to a quick glance as he passed in the frame. She added some playful captions and memes throughout, and as she watched, she giggled to herself, noticing how often he wandered into her videos with one of his classic lines.

“Sift the flour?” one of the Arvids in the video asked, holding a wooden spoon and glancing at the recipe she was showing him, realizing they’d missed a step.

“Who sifts flour, duh,” the real Arvid shook his head, curls bouncing.

He glanced at her as the clips played and felt warmth spreading through him, realizing what she’d done for him. He knew, deep down, that she understood his true love language. Memories. Of him, of her youth, and the carefree life they tried to live between pit stops, ice cream runs, and metro trains making them pull strange faces.

He rested his chin on her head, watching the final part of the video, where she, bundled in a huge scarf, walked around London searching for the perfect gift for him, documenting each piece.

“Arvid’s a tough one, I have to be honest,” she smiled at the camera, with a light in her eyes that only travel seemed to bring.

“On our third date, we joked about the guy sitting next to us who was wearing…”

“A watch with a duck dressed like a police officer on it,” they said in unison, echoing the words from the video.

“And, well, that same night the police stopped me,” Arvid laughed, listening to her. “It was just a quick question, but God, it was scary.”

She raised a bag both in the video and in real life, smiling two different smiles but both so sweet and real they reflected onto him.

“You didn’t,” he said, sitting on the edge of the couch.

“Open it.”

Arvid slowly opened the brown bag from a small Camden Town shop, revealing a black box that contained exactly what he suspected: a watch with a duck dressed as a police officer on the face.

“It’s not one of those fancy Rolexes.”

“I don’t care,” he hugged her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“I should tell you something,” the birthday boy said, smiling as he looked at her from his height.

She nodded, feeling his fingertips run through her hair.

“I always watch them.”

“You thought I didn’t know?”

Arvid raised his eyebrows, amused.

“Ollie sent me a picture of you smiling at one of them.”

And she was happy about it. Because if she loved his confident, playful side, he loved her clumsy, chaotic, and fun side, too. She’d given him a watch and spent hours editing all his little appearances in her vlogs, even though he’d always been sarcastic and skeptical about them.

Arvid was close to very few. But for those few, he was a completely different person than what the fans saw.

~ not proofread, I want to apologize again 'cause I'm clumsy and dumb lol

hope you like it :)

#f2 #f1 #motorsports #prema racing #f3 #arvid lindblad #formula racing #arvid lindblad x reader

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kokabeeeel · 1 year ago

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"do you remember our first kiss?" sam asks one day; the two of them curled up together on one of the reading chairs in the library.

he doesn't expect dean to remember his first kiss, but theirs must mean something at least.

"sure i do." and sam hates the way that he's surprised; hates that after all this time he still finds things to doubt his brother on.

he plays it smoothly: tightening his grip on dean's hip - the good one even though he will pinch dean's bad one when he's getting on everyones nerves - and pressing his head further into his shoulder. "that's cool."

"did you really think i wouldn't?"

sam knows every part of dean; all his mannerisms and quirks, how there is no fooling him because dean knows sam just the same.

sam still shrugs his shoulders though.

"sammy." he can't find himself to look dean in the eye, even when dean tilts his chin to face him, he closes his eyes. "look at me, please baby."

he caves, because he always caves when it comes to dean. he's weak.

"it was the middle of summer in 'nighty-nine; you had been sixteen for two months." it was; he had been, it had all felt like a late birthday present. "dad was working some case, so you and i were stuck in some motel in hermann missouri."

sam scrunched his nose up as he recalled the mysterious stain on one of the beds, and the way the entire town stunk of sausage twenty-four seven.

"it was pretty bad, wasn't it?" he's glad that dean feels the same way about that small town. thinking about it, sam doesn't think they've ever gone back there.

"we were sitting on one of the beds, you were complaining about how your bed was the one with the stain, how we should swap - which then turned into how we should share." dean shakes his head but sam can see the fond smile on his face. "you were so dramatic; throwing yourself onto my lap, hands over your eyes, kicking your legs-"

"i was not kicking my legs!"

"oh, yes- yes you were, sammy, almost hand to grab them to keep you steady." sam groans, because yes whilst he was being dramatic and throwing a tantrum only a teenager can throw, he certainly wasn't doing that. "oh, i'm sorry, i thought we were going down memory lane."

he feels the kiss dean leaves in his hair; tiny fourteen-year-old sam who just discovered his feelings for his brother swears to never wash his hair again. "you can skip that part."

"fine, fine, princess." we warms with the nickname. "as i was saying, you had thrown yourself onto my lap, and although your hands were over your eyes, i could've sworn you had started to cry." he had been.

"i felt bad, you know, felt as if i wasn't doing a good job at being an older brother."

"you called me annoying."

he felt dean chuckle before he heard it. "well, if the shoe fits, sammy."

"just carry on with the story, jerk."

"you interrupted me, bitch." and sam supposes dean has a point. "can i continue, or are there other points that need correcting?"

"you were skipping details, de, i thought you said you remembered it." sam can tell by dean's hold on him tightening that he knows sam's being a tease.

"i'll show you remembering."

sam stops him before their lips can meet. "i was promised a story, de." it almost gives sam whiplash how much it reminds him of being five and begging dean to read him to sleep.

"tease." dean whispers against his lips and sam only smiles. "blah blah, thought you were crying, yada yada yada, i pulled your hands away from your eyes and i just- i can't explain it, sammy, but it was like all those moments in romance movies where: time slows, the people around them begin to blur until it's just the two lovers, that filter comes into play... it was all that and so much more, squashed into one feeling."

sam recalls the butterflies that entered his stomach as he peered up at his brother, only to see him looking down at him.

eye contact.

"i called out to you, i said: 'sammy' and you nodded." dean's voice had been so soft back then. "you nodded and then i asked you-"

"have you kissed anyone before."

dean nodded his head. "and when you said no, i asked: 'would you mind if i was your first?' and you just smiled at me."

"well, i had been in love with you for two years at that point." because he had been; at least two years he had been conscious of that love.

"i didn't know that, though, so i asked you again- i kept asking you."

"until i pulled you down by your collar and shut you up."

"yeah, yeah you did."

"the fact i still have to do that."

"now hang on a min-"

gripping dean by his collar, sam turned his head so he could connect their lips.

feeling dean smile, sam returned it; it made it hard to kiss but there were plenty of other times they could get hot and heavy, this was just a simple trip down memory lane.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #samdean #wincest #weecest

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butchjackabbot · 22 days ago

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i do have a bit of a guilty pleasure for those "character's social media" posts but i never actually rb any because i always feel like theyre so unrealistically curated that it takes me out djshdjhdkjsk so it got me to thinking about the pitt character's social media usage. um. here's some thoughts. enjoy

i only wrote about the characters i felt like writing about, but if u want to hear my thoughts on other characters just shoot me an ask lol

mohan

has an instagram page, but not the app, she deleted it sometime in med school. sometimes re-downloads it, but seeing everybody she knew and having to update on her life fills her with so much anxiety that she deletes it again. icon is her childhood cat and her page has a handful of random posts from high school and undergrad w/ minimal captions, but that's it.

linkedin warrior. she loved linkedin, huge linkedin advocate. fell off after she started residency, and has a sort of hatred towards it that makes her feel like she's betrayed herself.

pinterest where she keeps boards that make her feel inspired. quotes, imagery of who she wants to be and what the space she wants around her to look like.

storygraph, not goodreads because she doesn't want to support amazon. always sets her yearly reading goal so high that she cannot possibly reach it - i.e. she reads 5 books one year, that means she should be able to read 20 the next. disappoints herself and ends up avoiding reading altogether because of it. needs to delete storygraph or stop setting a goal.

santos

instagram is sporadically updated, aims to look sarcastic and cute. posts only reach back to the end of medical school, she archived everything before that.

tumblr. absolutely a tumblr user. account was made when she was in middle school, and i'm gonna say it was for the purpose of posing about xena warrior princess, buffy and supernatural. now is kind of just an aesthetic blog, for the most part. can go months without posting then will reappear, post like 30 unfiltered thoughts in a row, and disappear.

private twitter she made in undergrad, yaps and yaps and yaps. way to stay connected with both irl and online friends.

tiktok addict... she goes to sleep doomscrolling.

DOES have a linkedin she was forced to make for a class in undergrad. no profile picture, no information besides her name, and her only post says "balls" (mohan is scandalized bc "trinity! this is going to show up when people search your name" "(shrug) hasn't been a problem")

ellis

active on both instagram and tiktok, sporadically posts fit checks. has a pretty good amount of people following her. feed curated so she can look mysterious and cool, captions often quotes or song lyrics. posts photo dumps and random thoughts on her close friends story a lot.

fitness tracker apps - loves myfitnesspal. she does, in fact, track her food each day to make sure that she's eating enough. finds it to be a really helpful reminder with a busy schedule.

linkedin casual. it's professional, it works. it exists, but she doesn't like posting on it. tries to post once every few months or so - maybe about publications or job updates.

still uses snapchat, got into the habit in high school and some of her friends are still pretty active w it

private twitter where she occasionally posts, mostly just retweets stuff that makes her laugh. santos and ellis follow each other, ellis absolutely terrorizes santos in her replies.

abbot

you will find nothing except a facebook that hasn't had consistent posts since his spouse died (~2013?). a lot of it is posts of them, from them. some shares of memes or interesting news, in between. since they died, there's a sporadic photos from his life but it's maybe a handful of posts. he only started posting again in 2015, and hasn't posted since 2018. every year on his birthday, a splatter of people still wish him a happy birthday.

somewhere out there, there is a twitter he made in 2008 under a handle that has nothing to do with his name. he has noooo clue what the username or password is. my omniscient self says there's a few retweets and maybe a tweet making a stupid joke before he abandoned it almost immediately.

not exactly social media but: huge physical media advocate, only has some music on his phone as like. "commute music." but otherwise likes collecting vinyl and CDs. refuses to subscribe to streaming services. knows how to torrent and will only watch tv/film that way, besides going to the cinema or finding stuff on places like the internet archive/going to the library.

collins

has an instagram she sporadically posts on, posts go back to 2012. mostly posts scenery pics. her profile photo is a candid that robby took when they went on a trip somewhere pretty and scenic together. she hasn't really posted as much since they broke up (~2021, heather starts residency at ptmc next year) because every time she looks at that profile picture, it stings. she hasn't really had time to think about changing it with finishing up med school at the time and starting residency, and she's at a point where she doesn't really want to change it. it was a fond memory. anyway... hasn't made a post since 2022, but sometimes opens it up and reposts something in her story.

linkedin that used to be more active in her undergrad and finance days, keeps it updated.

facebook she posts on a few times a year, probably. just has it for family, at this point. photos from important events, comments on family's posts, some reposts of stuff she found interesting/funny.

robby

younger robby was a punk and he was active on forums specific to his interests - focusing on different bands, world & american politics, the punk scene specifically.

made a twitter in 2008, still sporadically active. likes to post "witty" commentary and mostly retweets things he finds funny or politics.

has a facebook that he used to be extremely active on when he made it (adhd farmville addict). has not posted in a few years.

instagram with maybe about 5 posts from 2012-2014. has some tags from heather, posts that he logged in only to like and comment on. profile picture is also him from around that time, trying to look cool with sunglasses on. bio is some quote from a classic book.

goodreads - reads a lot, actually, and wants to catalog and review each book. sets a goal of about 20 books per year, and often exceeds it. pretentious commentary is his fav thing to add to a goodreads book's review section.

#this was a character study actually #i say spouse for abbot bc i knooow he likely had a wife. but i like the idea that he had a husband sm. so u can imagine how u want #pittposting #tagging charas for my blog purposes #mohan #santos #ellis #abbot #collins #robby

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thecolddeathfic · 4 months ago

Text

Part 6

WinterIron, E, 4k - Horror, Body Horror, Gore, Weird sex

see blog's pinned post for a list of tags and warnings for the full fic

Happy birthday to me, I'm finally happy with the end of this fic. Only one more chapter after this!

Wake up, Anthony.

The voice is familiar-

But it’s so far away-

Come back-

If he focuses-

"Anthony."

Tony’s eyes snap open.

The cave- The soldier still standing inches from him-

One cold hand cupping Tony’s jaw and the other resting on Tony’s stomach, still so close to the open hole in his chest-

He still can’t breathe-

The Soldier’s eyes are a bright, cold blue, but there’s also-

There’s also something warm about them.

Or maybe Tony is just losing his mind- Imaging things as he slowly bleeds out-

Bleeds in, he’s pretty sure he can feel it running down the sides of his lungs, pooling among his organs-

Blood is still trailing sluggishly down his stomach, almost cool compared to his flushed skin- running over the Soldier’s fingers-

Slipping out from between his own fingers as they sink deeper into the raw meat of his chest-

“Anthony,” The Soldier says again, softer, and he almost sounds concerned.

Tony is definitely losing his mind.

"Wh-what?" Tony tries to snap, but the word is more choked out than anything as his lungs refuse to fill.

”You’re almost out of time,” the Soldier says again, and Tony makes another annoyed noise.

“I- know-“ Tony grits out, even though the words tear at his throat-

It feels wet when he wheezes for air, but Tony can’t taste blood anymore and he’s-

He’s too exhausted to be scared anymore.

He’s-

He’s dying, right here, right now, one way or another. There’s no reason to be afraid, this probably isn’t even real-

The Soldier is still watching him, close enough that they’re sharing freezing cold air.

“What do you want?” The Soldier asks him this time, head tipping slightly to the side and he looks like-

Like it matters.

Tony would laugh if he could, but he’s pretty sure the effort would have his rib cage collapsing in on itself and impaling what’s left of his lungs- shards of bone joining the shrapnel in his heart-

What he wants is to not fucking die here-

He wants- He wanted to get Yinsen out of here, to make up for his mistakes to at least one fucking person-

He wants a lot more, wants to fix all of his many, many mistakes- wants to finally do something good, fix the legacy that he’s been painstakingly maintaining all of his life and make it something he could really be proud of-

But he would have settled for saving Yinsen.

Tony doesn’t have the air to say any of that, though. He’s not sure he’d be able to put the words in the right order if he did-

Even thinking is- It’s so much effort-

His brain is on fire-

Every inch of him is burning with infection, blood scorching its way through his veins-

He can’t even feel the chill of the Soldier’s hand against his jaw anymore- He can’t feel anything but the heat and the pain-

The shards of metal in his chest make him agonizingly aware of his own pulse, every beat more painful than the last-

And the beats are getting slower.

It- It’s a relief.

Tony just wants it to stop- The burning pain and the guilt and-

He wants the dark back-

The cold-

He-

He wants to do one single fucking good thing before he-

Tony forces his eyes open.

The Soldier is still watching him.

Waiting.

“I-” Tony struggles to say-

Choking on the thick foam filling his throat-

His eyes won’t focus-

He wavers on his feet, legs threatening to buckle- The Soldier holds him upright- pinned firm against the door-

"I w-want," Tony gurgles out and that’s it- that’s all he can manage-

The Soldier’s grip on his chin is the only thing holding him upright-

“Then open the door,” the Soldier says, and Tony wants to sob.

He can’t- The door is locked-

He’s dying, he doesn’t have time-

He just wants to-

“Come back to me, Anthony,” the Soldier says and his voice echoes more than ever, almost hard to understand.

It feels like Tony is falling and he can’t be sure- he can’t feel anything around him-

Can’t see-

“Let me in.”

The apartment is completely frozen over.

It looks smaller with a fine layer of frost over everything, icicles hanging from the open doorways and snow piling gently in the corners. There’s even fat flakes of it falling from the ceiling, drifting lazily in the still air.

Even with the way he’s burning, Tony can feel the cold sinking through the layers of course fabric they gave him in the cave, making him shiver.

The door at the end of the hall is still closed, a chair still braced beneath the doorknob. The light still shines from beneath it, reflecting off the frost so even the air seems to glow, and broken in two places by someone standing on the other side of the door.

Waiting.

Tony is at other end of the hall, and its not that far but-

He can’t.

His brain is still on fire with the fever and he’s been holding his breath, knowing that when he tries to inhale it’ll- It’ll feel like being torn apart- his ribs will burst open and everything inside him will come spilling out-

But-

His vision is starting to go dark around the edges and he- He can feel the reflex building-

Tony reluctantly gasps in the tiniest breath he can and-

And it actually works.

His lungs actually fill- It’s agonizing, the cold air like knives against his throat, against his insides as it slips between his fingers still clutched over his chest-

But he manages a tiny inhale, and his vision clears, and he propels himself down the hall.

Tony’s footsteps are disjointed, more stumbling than walking, but he’s moving-

He’s getting closer to the office door.

The photo of him and Ty is still laying on the ground, the glass within the frame cracked right up the middle. Tony steps on it as he passes and the crunch of glass and ice is even more satisfying than he expected.

“Anthony-”

That haunting voice sends a fresh wave of shivers through Tony, and he stumbles again.

His heart pounds harder in his chest and he swears his can feel the swiss-cheese surface of it against his palm with every beat.

There are deep grooves in the tile floor from where the chair legs are braced against it, like someone has been pounding on the door from the other side hard enough to make the chair drag in place-

“Open the door.”

The chair is wedged so tightly against the door that it’s a struggle to get it free- Leaves Tony panting for tiny, careful lungfuls of air-

Sweat freezes in his eyebrow, on the curve of his nose-

He always hated this fucking chair-

The heavy chair finally comes free, and Tony lets it fall to the ground with a muffled crash. His quick breaths hang in the air, making it hard to see, but Tony keeps moving.

The doorknob is ice cold beneath his fingers, clinging to his skin-

All he has to do is turn it- Pull the door open-

Ice cracks as he starts to turn the knob, falling away from the metal-

He’s so close now-

But Tony’s strength is failing- Cold air is pouring into Tony’s chest without his hand over the rotting hole, freezing him from the inside-

Moving is so difficult-

And there’s ice layered around the door, creaking in protest as Tony tries to yank it open.

He throws his weight into it, feet slipping against the frost-covered tile-

The door begins to crack, cold blue light spilling through-

Tony stumbles when the door finally opens, off balance and after the dark of the apartment the light is so bright-

His office looks exactly the way it used to, right before he threw out all of his research- Untouched by the frost covering the rest of the apartment, lit by the warm lamp on his desk and absolutely covered in papers- He can’t believe that he forgot about this-

That he managed to make himself forget-

The Soldier is standing beside Tony’s desk, amid all the papers about his own legend, and the sight is-

It’s so familiar-

The memories are rushing back to him faster than he can process, the late nights pouring through archives and the endless printing, the dreams-

How many times in the final weeks did Tony see the man standing right there in the dark, or catch a glimpse of the Soldier’s distinct shadow, and just tell himself that he hadn’t? That he must have been imagining things?

Tony isn’t completely convinced that he’s not still imagining this- Clinging to anything as he dies alone-

“Hello, Anthony,” The Soldier says in greeting, and his voice is-

It sounds normal. Still low and rough, like the man doesn’t speak often, but it also sounds real in a way it never has before. Like for the first time, Tony isn’t hearing it from the other end of an impossibly long tunnel.

He can’t seem to think of a damn thing to say in return. He’s still struggling just to breathe, his lungs feel wrung out, pressed flat- His heart is weak, stuck through with metal-

Fading-

The Soldier slowly lifts one hand, holding it out to him- the flesh hand-

“You have to come in,” the Soldier says and there’s emotion in his voice now-

But Tony can’t sort it out- His mind is burning-

“You’re so close now, Anthony.”

He wants- He has to move-

Tony stumbles forward, grabbing the doorframe to keep himself upright as his legs try to crumble. His muscles are freezing, locking up- His every limb so heavy-

As he passes over the threshold into the office it gets noticeably warmer and Tony can breathe a little deeper, the air doesn’t rip at his lungs quite as sharply-

But it also makes him all the more aware of the fever still raging its way through his veins, trying to burn him alive.

His vision swims and when he stumbles again, tipping forward, it feels like everything inside him is going to come spilling out of his chest -

But Tony doesn’t think to cover the hole in his sternum. Instead he reaches out with both hands, towards the Soldier-

He finds the cold, outstretched fingers and clings, trying to catch himself-

The room spins.

The edge of his old desk presses into the small of Tony’s back as the Soldier braces him against it, then presses himself against Tony to pin him there- Firm and broad and every inch of the man so cold-

It’s a harsh contrast against Tony’s flushed skin, a relief from the oppressive heat even as it makes Tony whine in discomfort, squirming.

The Soldier’s hand cups his jaw, tipping his head back to meet the man’s eyes, and Tony lets out a breathless sound. The chilling touch is clearing the fevered haze from his mind, enough that he can wonder for the first time if this was a bad fucking idea-

“I’ve been waiting for you,” the Soldier says softly, almost mournfully-

His cold breath washes over Tony’s face, momentarily obscuring Tony’s view of his face-

There are millions of questions running through Tony’s restarting brain, but he doesn’t need to sort through them.

“Why?” Tony asks in a rush, his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, still shredding- shredding-

“You were looking for me,” the Soldier says simply, “looking at me.”

His thumb strokes along Tony’s cheek and then over his parted lips, lingering when Tony’s already unsteady breath hitches. His skin tingles in the wake of the Soldier’s touch, electric and almost painful.

“So I looked back, and I saw you,” The Soldier continues, his voice dropping lower as his thumb dips into Tony’s mouth, "touched by death and so alone, so beautiful. "

Tony’s breath is coming too fast now, speeding up as the Soldier gently tugs his mouth open further. Now that he’s adjusted to the chill of the man pressed against him Tony just wants more- more of that relief from the heat-

His hands find their way to the man’s hips to pull him impossibly closer, their thighs slotting together-

"But you ran away," the Soldier says, his voice hardening and his grip tightening on Tony’s jaw.

Tony sucks in a sharp, frigid breath- His heart stuttering in his chest-

“I th’ght-” Tony tries to defend, the words garbled until the Soldier’s thumb slips out of his mouth to rest, wet and cold, against his chin. "I thought I was losing my mind- "

But what had really terrified him was what it would mean if he wasn’t-

If he isn’t now-

“You- You can’t be real,” Tony says weakly. His hands flex against the Soldier’s waist, unsure if he should let go or not- if he wants to.

The Soldier responds with a laugh, low and rumbling and deadly. He tips Tony’s head further back and leans in until his mask brushes against Tony’s cheek, his breath sending shivers down Tony’s spine.

“I am real,” the Soldier says slowly, like a promise.

It should be a threat, it should be terrifying-

But Tony lets out a sigh of relief. If- At least he isn’t imagining this-

At least he isn’t alone.

Tony finds himself relaxing, despite everything, and when he shifts their hips fit together-

“Oh,” Tony gasps-

The Soldier is hard against him, the thick line of his cock obvious even through both of their pants, and Tony’s head spins as a heat floods through him that has nothing to do with the fever.

“Anthony,” the Soldier sighs and his hand leaves Tony’s chin to grab for his thigh instead, hitching it up a little-

And when the Soldier rocks against him the sudden wave of pleasure that rushes through Tony is overpowering, it overrides everything- The heat and the cold and the pain- Even the minor discomfort of the desk jammed into the small of his back is gone-

All he can feel is sharp sparks dancing along his every nerve, overwhelming- Heated arousal pooling in his core and his cock filling so quickly that everything spins-

His head falls forward against the Soldier’s firm, holster-covered shoulder as he pants for air, his hips bucking to meet the steady roll- His hands slide around the man’s waist, up his wide back, mind reeling even though-

Tony remembers this-

The feeling of the Soldier’s cold fingers on him- That freezing breath against his skin, making him shiver- oversensitive-

“Let me in,” the Soldier whispers, his mask the only thing keeping the words from being spoken directly into Tony’s ear-

Tony groans, shaking harder as his cock throbs- his fingers scrabbling at strong shoulder blades-

His hips continue to buck and he wraps his leg a little higher around the man’s waist-

With all the logic of a dream, Tony finds himself abruptly naked as the Soldier pushes him down flat against the desk, and it is a relief to be out of that uncomfortable fabric, but-

But if he’s dreaming- If this isn’t real-

Panic spikes through him, bringing with it the pain-

The papers littering the desk cling to the fever sweat still coating Tony’s skin as he squirms- If this isn’t real-

“Are you going to run away again?” the Soldier asks lowly, looming over him as his hands find the insides of Tony’s thighs- pushing them apart-

The touch of those frozen metal fingers makes Tony gasps- his hips jerking again-

His cock bobbing obviously against his stomach-

“Will you leave me alone, again?” The Soldier demands and presses his way between Tony’s spread thighs, shoving them wider-

Tony whines breathlessly, arousal overwhelming him again as the Soldier’s cock slides against his own- still separated by the man’s thick pants-

Dream or not-

He wants this to be real.

“I won’t,” Tony promises, shaking his head weakly- Grabbing for the Soldier’s hips and pulling him in closer so Tony can grind against him. “I won’t r-run-” he gasps, "I o-opened the door- oh! "

“You did,” The Soldier agrees, the sound practically a purr, his mask rumbling against Tony’s jaw. “Now let me in.”

Tony groans as the man thrusts against him, hands sliding cold and electric up Tony’s sides-

Without thought Tony’s own hands find their way to the man’s belt, undoing it with trembling fingers- Something clatters loudly to the ground as the buckle comes free, but Tony doesn’t care.

He wants-

He shoves the Soldier’s pants down enough that he can free the man’s cock and wrap his hand around it- thick and hard and throbbing in his grip- Slick with precum and still so cold-

The Soldier’s freezing breath is unsteady against his throat and it- it feels real-

Strong hands cup Tony’s jaw, tipping his head up, and the Soldier’s mask brushes his lips as the men shifts-

Tony’s head spins as he hitches his legs higher around the man’s waist and helps to line up his thick cock- Arousal burning through him so hot that he can’t think-

He can’t catch his breath-

“Let me in,” the Soldier growls and pushes his hips forward-

Pushes into Tony-

It should hurt. Tony knows it should hurt, but all he feels is-

Pressure and pleasure and a deep chill that spreads quickly- deeper-

Soothing the feverish heat that’s been burning Tony alive- somehow without touching the flame of arousal-

“Ohh,” Tony moans as the Soldier’s cock presses deeper, splitting him open and its- its so- “Oh- f-fuck-”

His fingers find the Soldier’s wild hair, holding the man in place as Tony gasps for breath against the mask, lips moving thoughtlessly over the hard material-

The Soldier growls again and starts thrusting into him-

Starts fucking him-

Pressing deeper with every roll of his hips and making Tony writhe with the contrast of heated pleasure and cold skin- Impossibly good-

"Yes, yes," Tony hisses as everything else is wiped from his mind in the face of the overwhelming sensations- He forgets guilt and fear and pain-

Any stupid worries about reality-

All he knows is the sharp pleasure of the Soldier’s cock moving inside him, hyper aware of every chilled inch as it withdraws and then shoves back into him- rocking Tony against the desk and sending papers fluttering to the ground.

Tony groans and arches, his cock bouncing and leaking against his stomach-

He drags his tongue up the front of the Soldiers mask and then kisses it messily, chasing the taste of the men’s cold breath past the metal polycarb-

The Soldier snarls, the sound echoing, and presses into the contact of Tony’s lips- fucks into him harder as his frozen hand slides from Tony’s jaw down to his chest and Tony-

He wants-

“More,” Tony gasps brokenly, clinging to the man as his cock throbs, his gut clenching, “more-”

Ice-cold fingers slide down Tony’s chest- then press into his chest-The touch freezing his lungs-

Tony jerks his chin down as his breath catches, eyes going wide and he-

He actually forgot for a moment-

The hole in his chest looks bigger than ever and Tony’s stomach churns-

The edges of it are nearly black, rotting with infection and swollen-

And he’s- he’s so dark inside- dark and red with glimpses of white bone- A pit of raw meat that rises up to meet the Soldier’s fingers- wrapping around them-

The Soldier presses his fingers deeper, thrusting his cock back into Tony at the same time, and Tony half-gags out a moan- Conflicted-

Horrified-

But the Soldier is still fucking him, deep and perfect and- And pleasure is still rocketing along his nerves-

"Nn- mmm- Ah!" Tony gasps, nearly a sob- his thighs clenching around the man’s waist and despite everything he-

He can’t look away-

There’s a fine layer of frost spreading across his skin from where the Soldier’s fingers sink inside him, wrapping around the blistered edges and spreading deeper- He can feel it against his lungs and deeper- washing away the uncomfortable heat of the internal bleeding and infection-

The shredded edges of his organs-

When the Soldier starts pull his fingers free Tony finds himself whining in complaint, shoulders pulling tight to arch his chest up-

Fresh blood slips from empty cavity as he moves and freezes to his skin halfway down his side- Tony hadn’t realized he was so cold-

"Good," the Soldier purrs and rolls his hips forward to shove his cock hard into Tony again- shoves his hand into Tony’s chest up to the knuckles-

Tony cries out raggedly, jerking- his head thrown back-

He remembers-

It feels-

The Soldier’s hand moves with the same rhythm as his hips, fingers moving deeper with every press- Until Tony can feel them stroking along his heart- That thick cock still spreading him wide and it’s-

So fucking good-

It shouldn’t- The wet sound of fingers moving inside his chest should be revolting- But tension is still building in Tony’s core, he cock swelling and his balls pulling tight- He’s-

“I knew I had to wait for you,” the Soldier says, his voice unearthly again and Tony shakes-

He looks down at the man, struggling to follow the words as the Soldier continues climbing inside him- His blue eyes so dark-

"I felt this," he says and works his hand deeper, cupping Tony’s heart in his icy palm- His cold breath on Tony’s face again-

“Guh-” Tony gasps-

"So broken and brave, so good," the Soldier continues, his voice interspaced with groans and his thrusts disjointed. "I had to have you."

Tony kisses him again, lips moving over the mask- All the times he thought he was alone, that he always would be- That he would die that way-

The Soldier was waiting-

“I let you in,” Tony sighs and it comes out like a promise- Arching and moaning again as his gut winds tighter- Still sloppily dragging his lips and tongue over the Soldier’s mask-

He’s so-

"Mine," the Solder snarls and squeezes Tony’s heart before releasing it-

He starts working his fingers in Tony’s chest again- Fucking him quicker- Touching him everywhere-

“Fu-uck,” Tony groans as his balls clench, his head falling back again-

He’s so close-

“Anthony,” The Soldier growls, his voice vibrating through the air- through Tony-

"Oh- Ahh-" Tony cries out as he finally tumbles over the edge, clenching around the Soldier’s cock and yanking at his hair-

Writhing-

Twitching-

His heart pounding in the man’s palm and he’s falling-

He’s-

-falling-

The back of Tony’s head hits the metal door with a thud that rings in his ears-

He barely registers the rough stone ceiling above him- Or the fact that he’s dressed again-

The Soldier is still pressed against him, hand still buried in Tony’s chest up to the wrist- Cold fingers still curled around Tony’s heart so gently-

When his heart beats- so slowly now- Tony can feel it pressing against the man’s palm, filling it- All the bloody edges where the shrapnel pierced it freezing closed.

“Wha-” Tony gasps and jerks in reflex, his feet slipping in the blood pooling beneath him-

His fingers scramble at the smooth metal door behind him and then jump up to the Soldier’s wrist, but-

He’s not sure if he’s trying to pull the man away or just holding on-

His heart beats-

The Soldier’s other hand slides from Tony’s jaw to the back of his head, cradling and protecting it from the solid door-

Then he tightens his grip on Tony’s heart.

Tony jerks again, crying out ragged and breathless, but his head doesn’t smash against the door.

“Last chance to run,” the Soldier says, low and rumbling and undeniably a threat, but-

But there are so many other emotions in the words, too- Longing and fear and loneliness-

His grip is still tightening.

Tony doesn’t need the warning. He knows-

His heart beats, weakly-

He’s out of time. But he still has things to do-

Death has finally found him.

And he’s already opened the door-

“Will you let me in?” The Soldier asks for the final time, his voice barely a haunting breath of air.

His heart-

Tony can’t make a sound to reply, so he nods haltingly- Uses his grip on the Soldier’s wrist to pull the man’s hand a little deeper into into his chest-

Tips his head up to press his lips to the front of the Soldier’s mask-

And the cold fingers wrapped around his heart sink in- Easily breaking through the frozen walls of muscle like thin sheets of ice- chambers collapsing into shards until-

His heart is-

Gone-

#my fic #winteriron #bucky/tony #starkbucks #bucky x tony #riot writes

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coff-in · 1 year ago

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heyhey!! may i req ashley with a fem reader? i may ramble here so please bear with me (reader and ashley are the same age)

reader and ashley were basically childhood friends, reader being the only person to actually give ashley a chance to actually be her friend rather than befriend her to try to get to andrew (which ashley was very wary of reader right from the get-go)

reader is basically known for being perfect and even "pure" by her peers back in highschool (and being a part of student council is no help) mostly due to her mother forcing her to excel and reader never really having much of an identity because of it

so it would be pretty scandalous for rumors of reader and ashley dating to go out, right? well, ashley fuels those rumors meanwhile reader tries to shut them down because reader isn't even out when it comes to liking girls

reader's mother is pretty disapproving of reader's and ashley's friend/relationship but the two usually sneak around to hang out anyways, mostly ashley

in the current game setting, reader is quarantined with the graves siblings since at that point, her mother stopped caring and viewed her daughter as a lost cause and is practically an accomplice in everything that happened

of course, with the quarantine, ashley and reader have gotten closer than ever before to the point that reader is questioning herself and her attraction to ashley

the relationship will be relatively toxic especially with reader likely being more of a doormat than andrew (somehow) and ashley's nature in isolating reader from friends and even her peers in general

notes from coff-in: this is actually such a cool idea, 'nonnie! i don't know to like, add on to this because it's just... it's so fucking good. you really cooked here :D still i tried my best, please enjoy!

[fem] reader-insert, homophobia(?)

holy shit, i think leyley would actually be so happy if [reader] actually came over to celebrate her birthday. even if [reader] wasn't able to bring her a gift, just her showing up to say "happy birthday, leyley!" would cause leyley to break out into a huge adorable smile!! the fact that [reader] actually takes the time and makes the effort to be there for leyley would make her like [reader]. [reader] is there for her, she likes to be friends with her. even having her sneak out of the house to hang out with ashley is so heart touching to her and enforces the idea that [reader] likes her. it also builds up that attachment to [reader] in ashley character.

i'm not too entirely sure how people in the neighborhood the graves' lived at react to gay people but... i'm sure it would be some sort of struggle being "outed" as gay when you yourself aren't even sure if you're gay or not. [reader] would definitely panic when ashley teases her about the rumors. "didn't you hear about them? everyone's talking about us~ about our relationship~"

"what?! what no! ashley, they can't-- they're lying!! we're not dating-- i don't even--"

"you don't what, [reader]? you don't like me? aren't we friends?? you're MY friend!!" omg the back and fourth the two go through of ashley pushing the boundaries of their relationship and [reader] calming her down after she (purposely) misconstrues her words turning ashley down. and it's so hard trying to dispel the rumors because yeah, they always hang out with each other (because ashley gets mad when [reader] tries to hang out with other people) and yeah, [reader] doesn't have many other friends outside of ashley (because ashley doesn't like to share :3c) AND NO, SHE'S NOT JUST FRIENDS WITH ASHLEY TO GET TO ANDREW!!

and GOD ONCE [READER]'S MOTHER FINDS OUT???? ashley knows all about shitty mothers, this is just another factor that she could use to keep [reader] close. it's an aspect that they can bond over!! they're both disappointing daughters to their mothers... kinda romantic, isn't it? it's like the only other that can relate is right next to them huh? (ashley's giving her smug bedroom eyes to [reader] while [reader] is like "haha... ha yeah, so true ashley canwetalkabout somethingelse?") THIS CONFLATES OR LIKE COMBINES WHEN THE QUARANTINE HAPPENS LIKE "WOWIE YOUR MOM DOESN'T WANT SHIT TO DO WITH YOU EITHER!!! we should kiss rn"

biggest question i have is whether or not andrew would like it or not? he's used to being ashley's rock, her anchor, the only one who loves her. and now [reader] comes along and... well, not steals her but makes her less reliant on andrew. ashley's always going to andy so it's not like andrew's leaving her (not like he wants to do so either) but there must be some tension or competition between him and [reader]. especially since [reader]'s taking his spot as "doormat extraordinaire" like bro!!! what the fuck!!! honestly such a fun idea to explore.

[reader] has nothing left but ashley. ashley drove away her friends in middle/high school, her mother abandoned her due to rumors of her dating ashley, and now she's stuck with ashley (and andrew) for three months. no one is calling the phone to talk to her, no one is trying to break her out, and no one is missing her. it's only [reader] and ashley (and andrew)

fucking love this idea, come here. let me kiss that wonderful brain of yours 'nonnie. MWAH MWAH MWAH!!!

----

coff-in

#cobweb in the coffin #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #tcoaal x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley x reader #ashley graves x reader #sorry for the late response btw #got the wifi back

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winndycakes · 6 months ago

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It's my dad's birthday today. He would have been 85. Last year me, my bro and my dad went out for Indian food for his birthday. None of us thought he'd be dead in about a month. Then end of February, it'll be a year since he passed.

There's a lot I can share about my dad. He was born during the height of WWII. He was a Vietnam vet, having even earned a pretty prominent award for his services (he rarely talked much about his time in the army, I never asked. I have various military family members and there's just... you don't ask them about some things. You just don't.) He was a traveler, having been around the world numerous times, and I was fortunate enough to get to travel with him in his twilight years, getting to see places I never thought I really would, that they were just pipe dreams. He was a sailor, a writer, loved animals and has had numerous pets and of course a parent, but not just to me, but to my brothers whom never really had much of a positive father figure in their lives until him.

Growing up, I admittedly had a disconnect with my dad which with adult hindsight, I think was our undiagnosed autisms clashing (that and he was old to be a dad). I didn't hate him, but I didn't get along with him like I could have. Thank fuck he recognized that I was just a kid/bratty teen at times and didn't hold anything personally.

When my mom died not long after I finished high school I knew I had a choice to make. I could continue to shun my dad like some lil shit when he had done NOTHING wrong and his worst crime was being... a little quirky autistic dude, or get over myself and try to form a proper relationship with him. I chose the latter.

My dad helped me with numerous things in the last decade. Getting to be on my own and my own place, managing money, helping me with rent here and there so I wouldn't wind up on the streets. He also helped with me with... many, many other loved ones that passed in that time, some he shouldn't have had to outlive himself either.

As I mentioned earlier, I was lucky to get to travel with him. I had some funds to be able to do so, and a few years ago he mentioned wanting to see Japan again. He had seen the country in like... 50 years ha ha. I had been wanting to see Japan since I was like, 11, so nearly 20 years. I asked if I could come. He agreed. So we planned it all out and eventually went. It was great. It was my first time over seas and to a totally new country. Sure there were some things I missed out on I wanted to experience (and we experienced a couple of typhoons) but in all, the trip was fabulous and a great experience.

Another couple years later and we take another trip. Seeing Greece, spending time in Paris and a day trip to Iceland. I mainly wanted to see Greece (and we were on a cruise for this, which was actually a cool experience) and neither Paris nor Iceland were high on my list. But they were important to my dad, so I went along with it. I'm glad I did. I had a wonderful time not just with the Greek cruise, but in Paris and our brief time in Iceland. I even got to see the Palais Garnier in Paris, the setting for Phantom of the Opera (and box 5!).

Our last trip together was the fall of 2023. I mentioned before I wanted to see Venice before it makes the way of Atlantis. Venice was my dad's favorite, favorite, FAVORITE city in the world. When he heard that, he asked if we could go together. I said of course. So we once again planned a trip. 10 days in Venice, 5 days in Florence (I wanted to see Florence but he also insisted he HAD to make sure I saw the city, as an artist). ...I think about that trip a lot. Perhaps in part it is not melancholy because it was mine and my dad's last trip together, but even when he was still alive I was deeply affected (positively) by the trip. I happened to look up prices for living in Florence (what I saw was a lot cheaper than I expected, or even close to what I pay for my own place now), Dad mentioned I could live in Florence, and he'd then always have an excuse for him to come to Italy.

There's so much I think about still with my dad. Those trips, the vacations I had with him as a kid. Going camping. Christmas's. Just going on a drive together, having some coffee or lunch.

I mentioned it before, but it cannot be overstated how much you really need to take the time to spend with loved ones and appreciate them. I've lost a lot of people. A lot of people (I even lost another just this week, an old coworker).

There's so much stupid bullshit people prioritize in this world that just doesn't matter. Of course we all get angry over petty things, but that isn't what we should hold onto. The time with our loved ones is what matters, and making the most of it. Take it from someone who has lost 1 or 2 people a year for the last 14-ish years.

Do things you love. Spend time with those you love.

#winndy serious

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hall0wedwyrm · 1 year ago

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Minecraft Headcanons for the anniversary

Happy birthday to the biggest brainrot ive ever had.

I wanna share my own hcs for the Block People!! because I haven't escaped them in all of my conscious existance. I am required by law to also include Herobrine. Okay here you go <3

Steve is ancient. As the first mortal being, he's been around for a very long time and watched the world change countless times. They still find exploring very rewarding, as they're always finding new things.

think of the world as like... when you update the game and the unexplored chunks have the new content... its just like that.

Alex is not as old... but they are still very very old. As the second mortal being, they are not as experienced but they know a lot about the world. They're a thrill seeker, and they looove danger.

Steve still panics when they jump into danger, even though they have been together for centuries at this point.

Alex is a free spirit, but they also have their own comfort in their base and being in familiar territory

They're very much the kind of player who has the huuuuge main base with all of their mob farms and projects being close by or easily accessible, where Steve would just have their one home and expand accordingly (a room for... basically everything)

Now... Herobrine is like. THE Oldest Being. He literally made the Nether, and Mobs, which were already around when Steve first appeared.

I have this headcanon that Herobrine is the sibling of the End Poem entities? Where hes their cast out brother because he was 'messing with their perfect world' and they decided to put him in the world. He wanted there to be a challenge but they were having NONE of it

If you know Narinder from Cult of the Lamb... like that.

He got assigned as the ruler of monsters after the individual monarchs had acknowledged him as their Creator. He lives in the Nether.

He's currently working on his Overworld Mansion (i.e. Herobrine's Mansion if you remember) since his siblings presence has faded away, and hes jumping at the chance to adventure into the overworld. He's picked a spot thats nicely tucked away in a deep forest

Herobrine originally believed that Steve was made to be a mockery of his new form, but ended up getting attached to them instead.

He then met Alex and they unintentionally swept him off his feet. They were a very fresh breath of air in his life and he appreciates them greatly.

He thinks Steve is okay (Hes obsessed with them).

Yeah... i'm a Hero/Steve/Alex shipper. I'm also the enjoyer of Steve/Herobrine and Alex/Herobrine as stand alone items too... basically im very open to any variation of this ship i just love them together lmao.

Herosteve enemies to lovers

Hero is Pan, Alex is genderfluid bi and Steve is demiboy bi there you go

I love masc Alex... but i do also like Alex being buff and fem.

Although i do love they them Steve a lot too... maybe at somepoint Steve tried just they them and was like 'this is kinda cool and also i dont mind either'

The newer characters (Noor, Sunny, Ari, Zuri, Makena, Kai and Efe) have built a community spot together. They're like a smp server where they announce "hey guys I'm heading to the mines anyone wanna join?" and there ends up being a little team who heads out.

Alex and Steve are the cool mentors who visit sometimes and help out. Alex brings cool trinkets and rarer items while Steve provides extra blocks and food.

Steve's advice is shit but Alex is actually pretty good at it???

"You just gotta go find it" vs "Oh heres a detailed explanation of how to find what youre looking for"

Herobrine is the 'creature that hangs around in the shadows sometimes' and watches over them. He's not malevolent towards them, so they assume he's somekind of protective force

Ari and Sunny saw him first, and Kai n Zuri did not believe them when they told them. Efe though it was cool though, but Makena didn't leave their safe area for like a week until Noor reasoned with her and said it was probably nothing.

okay yeah im doing part 2 for this with world building headcanons and for the other guys because i made basic ideas for my interpretations of them but this is kinda long already

#also guys... i caved and bought Legends...#I think im the target audience... i was watching gameplay and... Its basically Minecraft Pikmin #So im excited to start playing teehee #ALSO IF YOU SEE THIS YOU SHOULD TOTALLY PLAY MINECRAFT DUNGEONS ITS REALLY GOOD!!!!!!#i beat it all 100% with my sister and it was so much fun!!!!!#My special power is connecting all of the Minecraft games together which is what I will be doing when I finish Legends #ALSO LEARNING THAT MINECRAFT LEGENDS IS A PARALLEL UNIVERSE??? EXCUSE ME??#the cutscene revealing this just.. being shots of minecraft is HILARIOUS #minecraft #minecraft steve #minecraft alex #minecraft herobrine

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