#but i never got around to posting this here
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rafeswhre · 2 days ago
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orrrr rafe having to deal with a tipsy reader but lowkey being overwhelmed at the whole situation cuz she’s being so lovey dovey and clingy but they’re not dating? 😭
rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol, suggestive comments
a/n: this is my first time posting i’m so scared loll hope you like it, thanks for sending it🫶🏼 btw english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.
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“I don’t know, Top!” You laughed loudly while talking to Topper, who, to be honest, wasn’t actually funny. It was probably just the number of drinks you’d already had.
“Girl, you’re tipsy!” Topper laughed at you while sipping from his whiskey glass.
“I’m not.” You rolled your eyes and tried to take another shot—at least, you tried.
“You’re done.” Rafe took the shot from your hand and moved it away from you. By the way, who knows where he had come from; you hadn’t seen him since the party started.
“What do you mean I’m done? I’m just starting.” You gave the guy in front of you a funny look.
“I mean you’re done, princess. Let’s go.” Rafe took your arm and started guiding you through the crowd.
“Baby, you’re soooo boring.” You pouted at him once you arrived in the parking lot.
“Baby?” He raised his eyebrows, looking at you.
“What’s wrong? You call me princess all the damn time, I don’t say shit to ya, big boy.” You rolled your eyes.
“Watch that mouth of yours.” He leaned back against his car.
“Why are you so grumpy all the time?” You slowly got closer to him, resting your hands on his shoulders and giving them a little squeeze.
Rafe looked closely at your hands moving down his arms. “I’m not grumpy all the time.”
“I’m not grumpy all the time.” You imitated him in a funny voice and burst out laughing before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “’Course you are.” You whispered in his ear.
Rafe cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at your eyes. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He tried to escape your little grip.
“I don’t wanna go home, Ray!” You pouted again. “Let’s stay here; we could have so much fun! More fun than we’d have in your car, let me tell ya.”
“Why are you so complicated?” He rolled his eyes.
“Why are you so boring?” You teased him, poking his arms. “Although I can think of ways to have fun in your car too.” You got close to him, giving him a significant look.
“Stop saying stuff like that.” He opened his eyes wide, feeling out of place.
“Are you freaking out, Rafey?” you asked, teasing.
“Don’t call me that.” He frowned.
“Why not? That’s what all your bitches call you.”
“No! Just- just get in the car, kay?” He opened the passenger door so you could get in.
“We adore a gentleman.” You said as you climbed into the car. He closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver’s seat.
The atmosphere filled with an overwhelming silence; Rafe hadn’t even started the car. You felt a little guilty.
While it was true that you weren’t entirely sober, you weren’t drunk either. You knew what you were doing; it was just that the bit of alcohol had given you the confidence to tell him things you wouldn’t say when fully sober.
“Rafe?” you asked nervously.
“Mmh?” He didn’t even look at you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—I know we’re friends; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad—” Suddenly, you felt like the alcohol in your body had disappeared.
“Hey, hey.” He looked at you. “It’s alright, it’s not that, kay?” He buried his head in his hands.
“So? What is it?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.
He sighed. “You know, all your attitudes and shit.” He waved his hand in the air, trying to make you understand. “You’re getting all touchy and clingy.”
“Oh—” You looked away.
“No, no, hey.” He gently took your face and made you look at him. “Look at me, baby. It’s not a bad thing; it’s alright—it’s just—you’re kinda cold all the time. I’ve never seen you this way, it freaked me out.”
“You’ve never been with a tipsy girl?” You giggled.
“Nah, yeah, I have. I said I’ve never seen you this way. It’s different.” He turned on the car.
“What do you mean? Why would it be?”
He turned on the radio.
“Are you ignoring me, Rafe?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” You frowned.
“Nah, I’m not.” He said while steering with one hand on the wheel.
You sighed and rolled your eyes.
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kyri45 · 1 day ago
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Hello Kyri i just wanted to say your shadowpeach parent au has been a huge comfort to me and i love your art alot. ive actually been around since the first post you made about them, and your comics make me want to keep on working on my own comics and indie games so thank you for sharing your art here and making my day.
also i redrew that one page of the last update, since both Macaque and MK got to take off their glamours i thought id draw Wukong taking off his aswell here
BRUH THE COLORS??? CAN WE ALL STOP FOR A SECOND AND TAKE A LOOK AT THE COLORS??? GOOD SHIT RIGHT THERE.
but other than that I'm happy to hear you got to work on you own project!! Never stop doing what you love, remember!
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akira-sss · 1 day ago
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I just had a thought about ZoSopp that I can't get out of my head
Before Water 7, we got Zoro drinking from Usopp's thermos and giving him affectionate head bonks, and maybe other stuff I can't remember right now
After Water 7 and the timeskip, we get barely anything. It's the Sahara Desert for us parched ZoSopp fans. We still get ZoSopp moments when Usopp clings onto Zoro etc. but Zoro just tolerates him at best? He never initiates anything with Usopp anymore and I'm losing braincells (and currently, sleep) over why that might be. These could be the reasons why Zoro isn't as affectionate anymore:
1. Maybe Water 7 did affect Zoro and Usopp's relationship
2. The writers of the show practically ship ZoSan (maybe they also realised that ZoSan's really popular amongst fans) and that's why they promote ZoSan a lot post-timeskip. (I'm not trying to ZoSan here btw, just saying that the show's focusing a lot on ZoSan, some SanLu during WCI, maybe a little ZoLu, but we don't really see SanUso and ZoSopp much anymore — maybe...maybe Usopp's not as marketable as the Monster Trio (TT^TT)
3. Post-timeskip Zoro isn't as carefree as pre-timeskip Zoro. The mf doesn't smile, laugh, and joke around like he used to, poor boy (I'm begging the show's writers...please bring back Zoro and his goofy ass Tarzan shout from the Skypiea arc)
The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that it's Reason 2 and 3 being why Zoro doesn't do anything with Usopp anymore. The man's not the type to hold grudges. But yeah that's it for my rant, if you made it this far, thanks for entertaining my bullshit and I love you
they don't make this kind of thing anymore 😔
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loudclan-clangen · 3 days ago
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So, here is the pitch:
AU where Siltsplash finds out they are pregnant around the same moon that Eklutna gives birth to the boys. (Rather than an AU where Owl doesn’t cheat because then we wouldn’t have Song, Dance, or Dash and that won’t do)
It makes the betrayal even worse because it’s even more pointless since they were going to give Owl an heir.
Anyway, meet Spindlekit
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She will eventually go blind I imagine, but if Owlstar suggest she retire she tells him that he should retire for being old lmao.
Warrior name is open to suggestion
I love her and I’m so mad that she doesn’t exist now.
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The fact that Song doesn’t have a little sister is a CRIME. This is what he was born to do.
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Not only am I okay with it, I would love to see it!
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You are so right, here's a flashback that was cut for time from Moon 28:
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Erminepaw has had a crush on Songpaw since they were in the nursery together, he just never called attention to it. He honestly probably doesn't even register that it is a crush, he's doing that thing that kids do where they're like this is my best friend, of course I want to marry him that's how everyone feels about their best friend. Nothing out of the ordinary here! Just my best friend that I must be holding hands with at all times for best friend reasons!
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Yes! This is Fox----, he has been causing problems since the literal day he was born. You've met both of his parents, but I would be a little bit surprised if you guessed them correctly. Parental drama is kinda part of his whole deal. He's one of the first 3rd generation cats born in Loudclan.
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I have SO much advice, about the images, the recommended size is 1280 x 1920 pixels, that's always a little too short for my panels, so I try to aim for 1280 x 2000 - 3000. It still deteriorates them a little bit, but people can always click on them for better quality. Bigger text and variation in values also help for readability regardless of size. (value meaning how light or dark a color is. if you want something to stand out it's more important to change the value than it is to change the hue generally speaking.) As for grabbing attention, I would recommend making sure that the image you're trying to show is visible above the cut off for longer posts, posts with only text visible are a lot less likely to get interaction. That being said, the most important thing for the longevity of your blog is making sure that it's something you are doing for yourself. There's nothing wrong with liking when your posts get attention, but it's not likely to happen for a long while (I think moon 5 was the first time I got double digit likes which was three months after I started.) I appreciate all of the love that Loudclan gets now, but if I had started with that as the goal I never would have been able to reach the point of it happening. (I actually started posting Loudclan with the intention of proving to myself once and for all that posting art was not a viable endeavor for me, so... I'll consider that a successful failure!)
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You CANNOT DO THIS to me anon- "the canadian city"- YOU MEAN JUNEAU? YOU MEAN THE CAPITAL OF ALASKA JUNEAU?!?! JUNEAU?!?! CANADIAN?!?! When I catch you anon- anon when I catch you-
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Come here, anon. I just want to talk. I just want to have a word with you.
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dreamertf · 1 day ago
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Follow the Instructions
/hello! Hope you enjoy this one, im gonna start tagging ai as #ai tf so if you dont want to see any ai images in your tfs you can block that tag. Ill also be putting a disclaimer at the top of each post that has ai.
/contains ai images & video
/includes; muscle growth, suggestion tf, straight to gay tf
"Yeah, Im feeling fine!"
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Jason was tired of how weak and scrawny his best friend Max stayed throughout their time in high school and now, college. So he had given Max a new black market roid that promised to "make him a bro." He crushed up a few of the pills without looking at the instructions and baked it into a cookie he gave Max.
Jason wasn't so bad himself, 6'4" and muscular, with a charming face. Little did he know that his height that he had since he was a sophmore in highschool would be changing.
Jason stared at Max as his skin started to ripple and shift.
"Are you sure?"
"Never better, bro."
Max ripped his shirt off as his muscles swelled. A deep canyon of rippling abs leading up to two giant slabs of muscle. He flexed and stretched as his biceps filled out.
"Sorry, im feeling a little hot." Max said non chalantly. His muscles continued to grow as he flexed them.
"Oh my god it worked"
"What worked?"
"Oh nothing, dont worry about it."
"Ok brah"
Their surrounds changed from school as it turned into a living room, a living room Jason had been in so many times before, Max's living room. All of a sudden, Jason felt a pull towards Max. He couldn't stop looking at him, like literally. He traced Max's outline as each muscle became more prominent. He stared at the giant as he grew taller and taller, but something wasn't right. It was like everything around Jason was getting taller too.
Unfortunately, Jason hadn't looked into how the roid actually worked. On the back of the small blue box, it read ;
Are you tired of being weak and nerdy? We got you covered. We believe the human mind is a powerful tool, and our Bro Pill helps you to use it to your full potential! Not only does it shift your mindset to be more focused on sports and the bros, but it also changes various other aspects of your life in order to fit your new you! We recommend taking one pill weekly until desired affects.
WARNING: taking more than one pill a week may intensify the effect you have on other people
Jason panicked as he felt himself losing muscle and height. His features softened as he turned from a rugged man into a young 20 something twink. It looks like the god of Jason's creation has type cast him as his twinky boyfriend. Making Max a jock apparently didn't override his sexuality.
"What are you doing to me?"
His voice was still deep, too deep for someone like him.
"Make that voice a little higher, and can you please quit being so worried brah? Be like me, stop thinkin as much little guy huhuhu."
A wave of relief came over Jason as he collapsed onto the couch. His body continued to shrink as he lost his height, becoming about 5'6" compared to Max's new 6'8". His musculature toned down more, not as defined anymore.
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"Whatever you say babe" Jason giggled, his voice much higher and more flamboyant.
"Thats my pretty boy." Conversely, Max's voice became much deeper and demanding. Jason felt himself starting to get hornier.
"I'm so happy i couldfind you. Your ass was like made for my dick huhuhu" Max said as he spread his legs wide as his pouch grew bigger. He had one more explosive growth as his shoulder broadened and his pecs filled out more. Jason shifted in his seat as his ass grew more plump and muscular.
"What do you mean?" Jason feigned innocence, turning the ditziness all the way up.
"Come here and I'll show you, slut."
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rafesbangs · 3 days ago
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౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ rafe putting brat!lamb!reader in her place after she makes him leave golf for the millionth time
warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! dom!rafe (duh), mean!rafe ? kinda, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of a vibrator, use of the nicknames 'baby' and 'rafey', multiple orgasms, overstimulation, language, basically zero plot just smut. wc: 2.1k
a/n: i swear i'll start writing more, i currently have like 5 other fics all either just started or halfway through writing but ill finish them and start posting moreeee also this is my longest fic as of rn and its entirely smut lmfao
you always got your way, and today was no different. rafe and you had been at the country club all day and the instant you got bored of watching your boyfriend and his friends play golf, you whined until rafe obliged and you hopped in his mercedes to head home.
you sat in his car with your arms crossed, the wind whipped your white mini skirt and hair every which way but you ignored it. you were waiting for rafe to apologise for subjecting you to such boredom.
but he wasn't having it either. you always had to stop a game of golf just as it was getting good, but he never disobeyed you, he loved you. he also loved drinking beer and playing golf with his friends though, so today he had enough.
he sat there in the driver's seat, firm expression on his face as he drove the two of you back to his condo, one of his gloved hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.
you glanced at the veins bulging out of his forearm as he vigurously steered the car but reminded yourself that he didn't deserve anything fun tonight for putting you through another several hour golf session with no one and nothing to entertain you.
as soon as rafe pulled up to his condo he hopped out and slammed his door shut. you could tell he was really angry now too, but what did he have to be mad for? you were out there for hours upon hours before you'd even began to tell him you wanted to leave.
he rounded the car to the passenger's side and swung the door open. "inside, now." he said gruffly, not even looking at you. his head turned towards the front door. you narrowed your eyes at him, arms still crossed as you sat there, irritated.
"get out of the fucking car brat" he calmly, but sternly said. your jaw weakened and you opened your mouth, only to snap it shut again when he looked at you with his piercing gaze.
you grabbed your little purse and stepped out of the car, stepping out of the way before rafe also slammed your door shut. he didn't bother to wait for you, just stalked into his place leaving you to trudge across the gravel driveway in your kitten heels after him.
you were still irked, for sure, but now rafe was angry. the two of you always made the impression that you had him at your knees, you'd say something and he would listen without question. topper and kelce often laughed at him, calling him 'pussy whipped' and he'd roll his eyes, telling them if they had pussy as good they'd be the same way. he never had a bad word to say about you.
however, behind closed doors... specifically his bedroom door, he was in charge. he could tell you to drop to your knees as he fucked with his belt and you'd have your eyes wide and tongue ready. as soon as the two of you were in his house, you turned into whatever he wanted you to be, tonight was no different.
you closed the front door behind you and turned around to find rafe standing there with his arms crossed, same stern look still on his face. you tilted your head down, attempting to give him the puppydog eyes so he wouldn't be so mad, you hated upsetting him.
he walked over to the couch without a word and sat down, the fireplace crackled in front of him sending a spark of light to illuminate the living room a little more, all of the other lights were off. you took your shoes off and placed your bag down.
"come here." he said before deeply breathing in and out. you walked over to the living room and stood in front of him as he sat there, looking up at you with pursed lips. "yes rafey...?" you said quietly.
"sit" he curtly said, and you immediately obeyed, sitting right on his lap. you swallowed the lump in your throat slowly, looking into his mean blue eyes.
his gloved hand connected with your throat harshly, "you think you can just interrupt my golf games like that, every fuckin' time?" he breathed. you whimpered a little, not because he was scaring you in any way but simply because you could feel his bulge under you rising and he knew how his strong arm around your throat turned you on.
his grip softened a little so you could talk, "i just missed you rafey... i got bored-" you protested, your voice quiet. his other hand quickly grabbed at your hip, squeezing roughly even through the glove.
"you bitched 'nd whined n'front of my friends for the last time baby," he pulled your face closer to his until he was breathing at your neck and he lowered his voice, "you can't be doing that shit, hm?"
you nodded vigorously, one of your manicured hands now gently grabbing the hand that is connected to your throat.
"good" he smiled sinisterly, "but baby, m'gonna have to teach you a lesson yeah? i can't just let that shit slide."
"i'm sorry rafey..." you whimpered, his bulge was twitching right under your now soaked panties, the mini skirt left absolutely no fabric in between.
he pulled your face even closer so your lips were almost touching, "i know, you'll show me how sorry you are" he whispered with a grin before releasing your throat and moving your thigh so you were now straddling him. he swiped his fingers under your skirt against your wet pussy and scoffed with a grin, "fuuck, you wanna be punished don't you? you're already so wet and all i did was tell you off"
you looked away to the side brazenly, nearly rolling your eyes because you both knew that rafe knew exactly what he was doing.
"ay, what was that hmm?" he snapped, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him. he adjusted himself underneath you like it was nothing, pushing his ranging boner into your wet cunt even more.
you squirmed a little at the feeling, "your hand on my throat? and we both know i can feel your dick..." you declared with a little sigh. one of his eyebrows raised slightly and he cocked his head to the side before ripping his gloves from his hands, all while holding your gaze on him.
"mmm, i know you like being punished," he reached his hand up to cup the side of your face gently, "and you love it when i punish you with my dick. so please baby, don't act all mad."
you nervously licked your lips, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter on top of him, you knew he could feel it too. it would be a miracle if there wasn't a huge wet patch on his pants where your pussy met his dick by now. his hands rested on your hips now, "good girl."
without a word he flipped you over onto your back with a grin, one hand holding you at your waist while the other was already pulling the wet fabric to the side and rubbing your slit slowly.
"rafe.." you said, breathless, you didn't think you could handle being teased for any longer now. he just grinned as he kept torturing your clit and began palming at your tits, your hips starting to buck while he kept going before finally plunging two fingers deep into your pussy.
you whined in pleasure as he pumped them in and out, his pace growing faster and faster while you just got increasingly wetter. he was getting painfully hard at the sweet sound your wet pussy was making as he fingered you. "ugh fuck, rafe please-" you moaned, all he did was smile in satisfaction at how he was making his girl feel.
he finally relented and pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, but then brought a tie from the floor and grabbed your wrists, tying them together above your head. "punishment's not done baby, i'm still angry with you..." he said lowly, looking at how wet he made you as you dripped down onto the leather couch.
he then reached for the floor again and brought out a vibrator with a smirk. your eyes went wide and you tried to sit up, but he just pushed you back down onto the couch again. "i just want your dick, please rafey" you begged but he just shook his head, still smiling as he switched it on and brought it down to your clit.
you immediately yelped at the sensation and couldn't help but become a moaning mess. rafe was having fun, stroking it up and down your wet folds as he torturously fucked you with a single finger, slowly.
"f-fuck you," you moaned, writhing against his finger and the vibrator, going through possibly your forth or fifth orgasm. rafe just continued to play with your pussy, now using his tongue on you which only made you lose your mind more. he was moving the vibrator across your nipples now, eating you out sloppily like a man starved.
"i hate you, oh god... rafe stop! please" you groaned, your entire body twitching. you had lost count of how many times this man had made you cum at this point, you'd actually lost all sense of thought. he just sat there, still simulating you.
a pornographic moan easily bounced off the walls and rafe grinned up at you proudly, pleasepleasepleaseimsorryitwonthappenagain" you beg, tears pecking at your eyes from the overstimulation. rafe just shook his head, watching you cum on his fingers again, "what're you talkin' about baby? you can clearly keep going..."
"rafe! fuck- please just fuck me" you whined, your body tensing up, awaiting yet another orgasm when he finally tears the vibrator away from your swollen clit.
he scoffs at the sight of you, all fucked out and heaving, "okay." he unties your hands and pulls you to sit you up, you nearly go limp and fold over but he holds you up, cupping your face. you were stained with tears but he thought he'd never seen you look so sexy, in an instant his lips were connected with yours.
he was hungrily kissing you, finally pulling your bunched up clothes off of you and palming at every part of your body, just completely feeling you up which only made your pussy ache again. you pulled his shirt off of him and continued kissing him, now pushing his back down onto the couch as you devoured him under you.
his hands slid off of your body and onto his pants as he started pulling them off. now in his boxers you couldn't help but mischievously smile, straddling him as you continued to kiss him but rutting against his aching bulge. you thought he must be in so much pain, having been completely clothed and untouched for the entire duration of your punishment.
he groaned as you grinded against him and gripped at your hips so ferociously you knew you'd have bruises there in the morining, but you kept going. he parted from your lips and pulled his cock out of his boxers, the tip all red and swollen, leaking precum. you licked your lips as you measured his huge dick against your stomach, it very clearly going to the top of your belly button.
you wasted no time in lowering yourself onto him. the feeling of him slipping into your tight pussy nearly caused him to cum right there and then but he held back.
"holy fuck... holy fuck y/n." he breathed deep, furrowing his brows as he grunted with every minor move until he was entirely inside you to the hilt. you began rocking back and forth and his body was shaking from the amount of force it took to hold back cumming inside your tight pussy immediately.
you moaned as you moved, "so big, god, so so big."
"fuck- baby... ah shit, m'gonna cum-" he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. you grinned mischievously as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to handle the pleasure. "cum inside me rafey" you whispered, leaning down in his ear. he immediately obeyed, thick hot ropes of cum filled your insides as you continued to rock back and forth. feeling his entire cock drained by your pussy made his head spin, he was moaning louder than he had before, breathing heavily.
you whined in pleasure as you rode him through your final orgasm as well, crumpling on top of him.
"good girl" he grinned, panting as he tucked stray hair behind your ear.
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gilbertscurls · 2 days ago
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heyy girl first of alll your writing is the best and best writer here and your fluff is just AHHHH i really wait everyday for u to post so i got a request fans edit Chris and reader to no.1 party anthem sing by artic monkey mybe its edit of chris talking about her or anything ANDILOVEYOUU
omg you're so nice, i love you!!!! i hope you like it <3
Yapping ➵ Chris Sturniolo
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The low hum of the city filtered through the cracked window, mingling with the faint sound of cars drifting up from the street below. You leaned back against the couch, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok as Chris's voice carried from the kitchen. He was rummaging through cupboards, probably looking for the last pack of his favorite snack, his faint mutterings punctuating the quiet.
It was the kind of lazy day where time seemed to slip away unnoticed. Your thumb swiped up the screen, passing by dance trends, funny memes, and cooking hacks, until something familiar caught your eye.
A video with the hashtag #SturnioloTriplets popped up on your For You page. It was one of those fan-made edits that you occasionally found yourself watching—clips of Chris, Nick, and Matt in their usual chaotic, fun-loving glory. You tapped on it, expecting a montage of their latest shenanigans.
But what you saw made your heart skip a beat.
The video opened with Chris sitting in front of the camera, a familiar setting that looked like the triplets' car. His usual animated self was present—his hands gesturing wildly, his face full of that vibrant energy he was known for. It was one of his “yapping” sessions, where he rambled on about anything that popped into his head. But today, instead of talking about a meme or some funny moment with his brothers, he was talking about you.
"Man, I don’t even know how to explain it," Chris was saying, his voice soft but filled with affection. "She just… she’s everything. Every day, she makes me feel like the luckiest guy alive. I mean, I never believed in fate or anything like that, but the second we met? It was like… I don’t know. It just clicked." He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression shifting to something far more sincere than his usual joking demeanor. "She makes me want to be better, you know? I’m just—I'm so in love with her."
Your heart melted at the sound of his voice, the raw sincerity in his words taking you by surprise. You had heard him say it before, but this… this felt different. As the clip played on, his face softened even more as he continued, "I don’t think she realizes how much she means to me. I could talk about her all day, but she’d probably just roll her eyes at me."
The screen flickered, and then, instead of just his words, the video transitioned into an edit. It was a soft montage of moments—your moments together. A collection of clips pulled from the triplets’ vlogs, his social media posts, and those little private, candid shots that had somehow made it into the public eye. There was a shot of you laughing together in the kitchen, your head thrown back, eyes sparkling as Chris pulled a goofy face. Another was of the two of you walking hand-in-hand, your fingers intertwined in a way that made everything around you feel quiet and still, just the two of you in your own world. There was a shot of you sitting next to him during one of their live streams, both of you leaning in close as he whispered something funny in your ear, making you laugh so hard you almost snorted.
The song lyrics echoed in the background, making the edit even more heartfelt.
It was a perfect blend of those little moments that spoke volumes—subtle, intimate, and filled with love. The video cut back to Chris, a soft smile on his face as he looked into the camera. "I don't think she knows it, but she’s my everything. And I’ll never stop saying that."
The look of love, the rush of blood
The "She's with me"'s, the Gallic shrug
The shutterbugs, the Camera Plus
The black & white and the color dodge
The good time girls, the cubicles
The house of fun, the number one
Party anthem
The video ended with his smiling face and a caption: “Chris Sturniolo, everyone’s favorite yapping sweetheart.” You sat there for a moment, staring at the screen, your heart doing flips in your chest. You had always known how much Chris loved you, but seeing it in this way? It made your chest tighten, a flood of affection and warmth rushing over you.
You looked up just in time to see Chris saunter back into the room, a mischievous grin on his lips.
“What’s got you so smiley?” he asked, collapsing next to you on the couch, his arm slipping behind your shoulders. The scent of him—faint cologne and warmth—enveloped you.
“Just this,” you said, turning your phone towards him, the last frame of the edit paused on his face, mid-laugh.
Chris’s eyebrows shot up, and then that familiar, teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Oh, so you found it, huh? Yeah, I might’ve gone a little overboard that day.”
“No,” you whispered, leaning into him, feeling the beat of your pulse against his. “It was perfect.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, there was no screen, no city noise, no world outside the two of you. Just the number one party anthem playing between heartbeats.
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ladyloveandjustice · 2 days ago
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I finally got around to posting the rest of the fic here! It's finished! I've included an a03 link of the whole thing at the end. @schrodingersauthorii gave me an idea for this part in the comments to this very post!
Part 2
The atmosphere of the meet was a lot nicer than he expected. The other students were kind to him, many complementing them on his sports day performance. The team members and Coach Sakuragi were less, well, mean to each other than the team he’d briefly been part of, cheering each on rather than acting sullen when anyone outperformed them. The coach at his old school had always responded to any mistake with a torrent of frustrated criticism that made Natsume tremble in shame. But Sakuragi never acted disappointed or angry. She came off like she was giving friendly suggestions, and she pointed out what they were doing well at lot too. The team responded to her advice eagerly, rather than fearing her.
It was nice, and Natsume almost wished he was the kind of person who could be a part of this. But he knew himself too well. He’d feel terrible each time he missed out due to being sick or waylaid by yokai. And that would happen a lot. The nicer these people were, the worse he’d feel about letting them down. It didn’t matter if they were fine with it, he wouldn’t be. And to be honest, even if he liked his teammates, he didn’t like thinking about huge crowds watching him, he didn’t like the idea of watching other people cry in frustration when he beat them, any of it.
So when Sakuragi asked him if he wanted to do a practice run with the others, he agreed, all while planning to run much slower than usual. He’d explain to her after that the performance on sports day was a fluke, and he usually wasn’t that fast, and there was no way he’d be able to pull it off consistently. Sakuragi would hopefully stop wanting him to join the team, and even if she still asked him, she and the others wouldn’t feel bad when he turned her down.
He took a deep breath, as he stood at the starting line, closing his eyes and blocking the gaze of Sakuragi and the other students out. If he didn’t imagine a yokai was chasing him, running slower was pretty manageable, and he was experienced enough with doing it in Phys Ed that he knew he could pull it off without looking like he was holding back. It would be fine. He’d be fine.
He got himself into position, taking off when Coach blasted the whistle. He lagged way behind the others, while doing his best to look like he was really giving his all. It was going pretty well, he thought, until he looped around on the track and saw a yokai directly in his path.
It wasn’t a big one, not even coming up to Natsume’s knee. It was black, so it had blended in well with the track. It was sort of blobby and shapeless in form, like an inkstain, with beady eyes and a wiggly head.
Natsume’s heart raced and his mouth went dry. It might look small, but he knew better than anyone not to trust a yokai’s appearance. It could be dangerous. Was it here to get the Book of Friends, or was it trying to do something to the people here? It didn’t matter. He had to do something. He couldn’t just slow down, that would give it time to attack.
Instead, he vaulted over the creature. His ankle twisted under him when he landed. He fell, knees and hands scraping the ground. He immediately sprang to his feet and ran as fast he could. He had to lead it away from everyone else.
His sneakers pounded on the rubber and intense vibrations raced through him with each step. It felt like his bones were shuddering. Somone was calling his name, but it was muffled and distant, everything was. He has no room in his brain for anything but his goal. I have to protect the people here. I have to protect the Book of Friends. He crossed the finish line and veered into the grass, ready to grab his bag and sprint out of school grounds. But he looked over his shoulder, he saw the blobby yokai hadn’t moved after him at all. It had simply flattened and spread out on the ground. It’s eyes were closed.
Was it…taking a nap?
Relief filled Natsume as he skidded to a stop. Yes, it was sleeping. Its breathing was even, and as sounds came back to him, he could hear some faint snoring. But he also heard something else, which was Coach Sakuragi screaming at him.
“NATSUME! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? WHY WOULD YOU RUN ON A SPRAINED ANKLE?” She shouted while running toward him.
Sprained…? Natsume looked down and saw his ankle was swelling. Suddenly, intense pain shot through his leg, his ankle folded under him, and he crumpled. Sakuragi caught him under his arms before he could hit the ground. She lifted him up easily.
 Wow, she’s strong, Natsume thought dazedly. Bet I look pretty pathetic right now. He could see students had gathered around to stare at him, expressions worried or shocked. One girl called “Are you okay??”
“Y-yeah,” he said as his mind screamed in humiliation.
Sakuragi could have probably carried him, but thankfully she chose to simply pull his arm over shoulder. “Don’t stand on that ankle, keep it raised.” She commanded. She turned to the cluster of team members. “We need the chairs, the ice bag from the cooler, and the first aid kit. Go get them.”
The student’s responded quickly, three of them running off.
Soon they all came back with all the supplies, including two folding chairs. Sakuragi eased him into a chair. Natsume couldn’t help groaning in pain when a student propped up his leg on the chair in front of him, resting his ankle on a folded towel. Sakuragi quickly cleaned out the minor scrapes on his hands and knees with some medicine.
Natsume hated that he was disrupting the entire track meet and making so many people fuss over him, but he knew protesting would be ungrateful, so he softly thanked the other students instead. They smiled back at him.
Sakuragi placed the ice bag on his ankle. Natsume sighed in relief as the numbing cold broke through the pain.
 Sakuragi bent down to examine his foot. “It don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to need to check it with a hospital. It’s badly sprained because of all the weight you put on it. Hopefully you didn’t tear the ligament completely.”
“A-a hospital?” Natsume’s stomach dropped. That was really going to worry Touko and Shigeru. He felt so stupid, putting them through all this because a harmless yokai was taking a nap.
Sakuragi straightened up and clapped her hands. “Okay, this isn’t a show, people. Give us some space and get back to practice.”
The team dispersed, and Sakuragi crossed her arms, frowning down at him. Natsume winced, thinking she was going to yell again. Instead, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “Natsume.” she said calmly. “I don’t understand what you were thinking. This was just a practice run. Your first one, too.  I’ve seen students try to run on injuries before, but this wasn’t even an actual race!”
Natsume’s looked at his ankle, which was rapidly turning purple, burning with shame. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
“You don’t have to apologize. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you run on that ankle?”
“I-I didn’t do it on purpose. It was just kind of…instinct?” Natsume said. He instantly realized that how weird that sounded, and so, apparently, did Sakuragi.
“Instinct?” Her frown deepened and her eyebrows drew together. “Your instinct is to keep running even when you’re hurt?”
“No, no, it’s not like that, I’m just used to—!” He snapped his mouth shut.
What was wrong with him? He was usually better at covering things up. He’d almost said he was used to having to run while injured. He’d twisted his ankle running from yokai plenty of times, and at some point he’d learned to just block out the pain until he got to safety. But obviously he couldn’t tell the coach that.  He desperately searched for another way to end the sentence, but before he could, the coach bent over, looking him directly in the eye.
“Natsume, you looked very frightened when that “instinct” kicked in. Like you were being chased down. Are you used to being chased? Is it something that happens a lot?”
Natsume’s blood froze. Did she know? Why? How? What was going on? His ankle was throbbing so badly now, it was hard to think the haze of pain. His breathing got faster, his ears buzzed… He had to say something, anything to throw her off…
 Sakuragi put her hand gently on his shoulder, “Natsume, you can tell me anything. Is it someone who goes to this school? Or even more than one person? Have they been hurting you? I know it’s scary to talk about it, but I promise I can help–”
Natsume’s shoulders slumped as relief flooded him. She’d was asking if people were chasing him. Obviously she’d meant people.  What was wrong with him? Sure, his ankle felt like it was being hit repeatedly with a giant hammer, but that was no excuse to lose his head.
Doing his best to come off as relaxed, he said “Oh, It’s not like that, Sensei, you don’t need to worry. People don’t chase me at all anymore.”
Sakuragi narrowed her eyes. “Anymore?”
He clearly should just stop talking forever. Maybe he’d sprained his brain along with his ankle.
Yes, he’d been chased by people, of course he had. And not just enthusiastic track coaches. He’d had to run away from plenty of classmates looking to teach the liar a lesson. Running from bullies was usually a lot easier than running from most yokai though, since people eventually tired out. He’d only been caught a few times.
At least this slip up didn’t put his secret in danger, it just made every inch of him cringe. He didn’t want to talk about any of this with her. But he had to make her understand everything was okay. Even if it meant embarrassing himself.
“Sensei, ever since I moved here, things have been so much better. People are so kind to me, my friends are amazing, the Fujiwaras are so warm and giving…” He ducked his head, unable to meet her eyes. “I feel like I belong here. Actually belong. I’m happier than I ever thought I could be….”
Sakuragi was listening to him intently, and when he trailed off, she smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that. Sorry for the interrogation.”
She took some bandages out of the first aid kit and started wrapping his ankle with a steady practiced hand. “It sounds running is really connected to some… difficult experiences for you. I’m a teacher who’s supposed to look out for you. I shouldn’t have pressured you to run. I should have listened and understood your feelings. I apologize.”
“No no, it’s not your fault Sensei, you’re honestly the nicest track coach I’ve ever—"
But his reassurance was cut off by a shout, “Natsume! What happened?!”
Natsume looked over his shoulder, and saw Nishimura, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Sasada all coming around the corner of school building
 What the heck are they doing here? His stomach dropped at the expressions of worry on their faces. Nishimura led the pack as they rushed toward him.
“How did you get hurt already?!” Nishimura exploded the second he was within talking range. “It’s been fifteen minutes since school let out! Fifteen! I bet you were doing some kind of crazy thing again, don’t you realize-?”
“Nishimura, calm down,” Kitamoto said, smacking his arm. “But seriously, Natsume, what happened?”
“I—"
“Did somebody trip you?” Sasada asked, fixing the scattered team members with a hawklike glare while they looked baffled in response.  “Are there bullies here?”
“No—”
“It’s not broken, is it?” Nishimura was wincing as he looked at the ankle. “It looks so swollen—”
“Guys!” Taki cut him off. “Why don’t we stop freaking out and let Natsume get a word in edgewise?”
“Well said. I know you’re worried, give him the chance to explain,” Sakuragi said in a slightly amused tone.
Nishimura, Sasada, and Kitamoro jolted, like they hadn’t noticed the teacher before.
“Sorry, Sensei,” Sasada said immediately, bowing her head,
“I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to yell at you, Natsume,” Nishimura mumbled.
Tanuma, who’d been quietly watching, stepped up and put his hand on Natsume’s shoulder. It was a timid, gentle touch, but Natsume could feel the weight of Tanuma’s concern through it. He smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked at the others.
“I just tripped, guys, that’s really all. I was doing a practice run and I stumbled and twisted my ankle. Though I, uh, also…” He was going to freak them out if he told them he’d kept running on it, and he wasn’t sure how he’d explain it, but—
“He also bumped it a bit while I was guiding him to his chair,” Sakuragi cut him off, giving him a small smile. “That one was my fault.”
Natsume blinked at her, shocked she’d covered for him. She shook her head at him slightly as if to say ‘Just this once’.
“See, Nishimura?” Kitamoto elbowed him. “You of all people can’t be mad at him for tripping!”
“Yeah…” Nishimura said sheepishly.
“No, I’m really sorry for worrying you all,” Natsume said, guilt racing through him. “But, uh, what are you guys even doing here?
“We wanted to support you. The plan was just to meet you when you were done and walk home together,” Taki said.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before,” Tanuma squeezed Natsume’s shoulder slightly, looking bashful. “You just seemed kind of stressed about it, and I was a little… It was a last minute decision. I was thinking if you wanted to, we could even hang out at my place. I probably overstepped.”
‘It was one of those times his friends’ kindness and care filled him up so much he thought he would burst. Those times where he  wondered how he’d found people like them after all these years. When he ached to give them even a fragment of what they’re given him.
“No…” Natsume said, hoping he didn’t sound choked up, “No, I would have liked that, thanks.”
“That’s really sweet,” Sakuragi said with a grin, resuming with wrapping Natsume’s ankle. But then her grin dropped, and she looked at Nishimura questioningly. “Does he get hurt a lot?”
“Kind of. It’s all because he’s reckless, Sensei. He doesn’t think things through!”
“A lot of time he’s trying to help someone, though,” Tanuma said hastily. “It’s not his fault, really.”
 “You always go way too easy on him, Tanuma. But yeah, he’ll do things like shove a girl out of the way when a bunch of heavy boxes are falling on her and get conked in the head. He’s too good a guy—"
“Come on, you’re embarrassing him,” Taki admonished, which immediately silenced Nishimura.
Sakuragi seemed to relax at this, and she finished up wrapping Natsume’s ankle. “Okay! Now, can one of you go fetch crutches from the nurse’s office?” Sakuragi took a key out of the first aid box and tossed at Nishimura, who caught it with a startled expression. Kitamoto went with him. Sasada looked around awkwardly, and then did a double take.
“Chiyo, what are you doing here?” Sasada’s hand immediately jumped to her hair, and she started twirling a lock around her finger.
The short-haired girl walked up, wiping her neck with a towel and flashing Sasada a crooked grin. “The track team lets me practice with them sometimes. Gotta train to beat you next time. What this I hear about you threatening everyone and calling them bullies?”
“I didn’t—”
“Oh, now I remember, Natsume, that’s your friend, no wonder you were all aggro!”  Chiyo waved at Natsume, who waved awkwardly back. “Sorry she’s so overprotective, man. She means well.”
“You—come on!” Sasada grabbed the other girl’s hand and dragged her away. Chiyo looked unreasonably happy about this.
Sakuragi had stepped away to chat with some other students too. Taki squatted next to Natsume and Tanuma leaned closer to him.
“Was there yokai trouble?” Tanuma whispered.
Natsume shook his head. “Not really. I basically overreacted. I saw a little yokai on the track, freaked out because I thought it was dangerous, and tripped. It’s harmless, though. It was just napping. I feel pretty stupid.”
“Did anyone notice anything?”
“Yeah, they noticed I was acting really weird. Especially Coach Sakuragi. She’s…intense.”
“Oh, I should have warned you about that,” Taki sighed. “It’s really hard to keep a secret from her, especially if she thinks you’re struggling. Her heart’s in the right place, though.”
Natsume nodded. “I can tell. I feel bad that I worried her. I ended up saying some bizarre things while I was trying to throw her off. I think she thinks I’m traumatized from my childhood or something now.”
Tanuma cleared his throat and looked away. Taki studied her shoes carefully.
“Uh, what’s wrong?” Natsume asked, trying to figure out if he’s said anything strange.
“Nothing,” Taki said quickly. “Hey, what does the little yokai look like?”  She looked off in the wrong direction.
 “Oh, uh…kind of blob-like…” he squinted at the sleeping yokai, examining it more closely. “Oh wow, I couldn’t pick it out before but it has ears actually, Oh, they’re kind of shaped like cat ears…”
Takis gasped excitedly “Is it cute?”
“Uh…maybe ugly cute?”
“Then it’s cute,” Taki said firmly. “I wish I could see it.”
Natsume suddenly realized that it was probably for the best Taki couldn’t see yokai, otherwise she’d be terrorizing every weird looking little monster non-stop.
Tanuma looked around at the team members looping the track, as others chatted and laughed on the sidelines. “Were you having a good time with everyone? You know, before everything happened?”
“Yeah…it was nice. Everyone was really great. I feel bad I ruined things.”
“You didn’t—"
“We’re back!” Kitamoto and Nishimura arrived carrying the crutches.
A shock of pain went up Natsume’s leg like lightning when Tanuma and Sakuragi eased him onto his crutches, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out. He couldn’t worry everyone even more.
“Okay, you’re good to go now,“ Sakuragi said to him. "But make sure your parents to get you checked at the hospital right away. I will be asking Ms. Fujiwara about that our weekly grocery store chats.”
Natsume nodded meekly, filled with dread at the thought of Touko’s panic and distress. At the same time, he noticed she’d called the Fujiwaras his parents…not foster parents or guardians…just parents. It kind of felt nice. Really nice.
Sasada was still talking with Chiyo, laughing and swatting at her playfully. She noticed that Natsume was up, and reluctantly pulled away, giving Chiyo’s hand a quick squeeze before she left.
Sakuragi smiled as Sasada rejoined the group, observing all of Natsume’s friends clustered around him. “Take care of him, all right?”
“Don’t worry, Sensei, we won’t let anything happen to him,” Nishimura said confidently.
“We’ve got his back!” Kitamoto assured her.
“He helps us a lot. It’s the least we can do.” Tanuma chimed in unexpectedly.
“Of course!” Sasada and Taki finished things off.
Natsume stared at the ground, hoping nobody could see the expression on his face. Taki patted him on the back.
“You’re right, you do have good friends.” Sakuragi ruffled Natsume’s hair. “Do you need me to get you a ride home? Or can your parents come get you?”
“Oh, it’s fine, I can just walk.”
“You’re seriously going to try to hobble all the way to the Fujiwaras?” Taki asked severely.
“Okay, maybe to the bus stop…”
“That’s not coming for another hour.” Sasada tapped her watch. “You can’t wait that long.”
“The Fujiwaras don’t have a car, right?” Nishimura said. “My parents have a car, and Mom should be home. I’ll call her to pick us up.” He pulled out his cellphone, glaring at it. “If I can ever get service in this stupid town…can’t believe I begged for a phone and it’s useless…”
“Nishimura, no, I don’t want to drag your Mom into this…” Natsume said in a panic. “I really can just—”
“Natsume.” Tanuma said quietly but firmly, holding out his arm in front of him before he could hobble away. Natsume’s voice died in his throat.
“My Mom would be mad at me if I didn’t call her about this” Nishimura held his phone high in the air, face screwed up in concentration.
“Oh yeah, that’s right, you get your nosiness from her,” Kitamoto said lightly.
“Man, shut up. Aha! I got some bars!”  And just like that, Nishimura was on the phone with his Mom, and Natsume could do nothing to protest it.
Sakuragi laughed and started to turn away. “Great, I’ll see you—”
“Sensei, wait,” Natsume called quickly.
 She stopped, looking at him questioningly.
“I just wanted I wanted to say, I did have fun here. And, well, I don’t think I can join the team but…would it be all right if I came here once in a while? Just to practice, or I could help with whatever… unless that’s…"
Sakuragi’s face split into a huge grin. “Of course, Natsume! Just having someone like you to race against is a huge help! But are you sure you–?”
Natsume nodded. “I want to.”
“Well then, do your best to heal up and we’ll look forward to seeing you.”
Nishimura got off the phone. “Mom said to wait out front. We’ll head to the bench just outside the entrance.”
Waving goodbye to Sakuragi, Natsume’s friends flanked him as he slowly made his way around the school building.
“I’m happy for you, Natsume,” Taki said.
“Yeah, that’s cool that you’ll have a place to practice!” Kitamoto agreed.
Thanks,” Natsume said. “I’m sorry I ruined the plans to get snacks and hang out…but maybe we could do it another time? Touko would probably be okay with you all coming over.”
“Of course!”
They all busied themselves planning  the get-together until they reached the bench out front, though Nishimura was oddly quiet.
After Natsume sat down, his friends gave their well wishes and reminded him to check in with them after the hospital, before dispersing to walk home. Taki caught up with Sasada and as they walked away, Natsume heard her say “So you and that Chiyo girl, huh? Do I detect some romance?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sasada said primly.
“Come on, it’s me. Come over to my place and tell me all about it.
“Fiiiine, if I must.”
Natsume laughed slightly. He looked over at Nishimura to see his reaction, but for once in his life, he didn’t seem interested in what Taki was doing. He was staring stonily into the distance.
“Nishimura, is something wrong–?”
“I’m sorry, Natsume,” he said abruptly, still not really looking at him.
“Huh? What are you sorry about?” He wondered if Nishimura was still feeling guilty about yelling earlier, and was prepared to reassure him, but—
“You’re hurt because of me.”
“What? What are you even talking about?” Natsume couldn’t help but laugh but stopped when Nishimura glared at him.
“It’s because of me. You don’t like  running in front of people, I know that, but then you had to because I screwed up. And when you were talking to the coach, I could tell you were nervous, I could tell you didn’t want to go. And instead of returning the favor and helping you, I pushed you to do it anyway.” He put his head in his hands. “It was such shitty thing to do.”
“Nishimura, come on, you didn’t–
“I did. You were trying to say no, you can’t pretend you weren’t.” He dragged his hands down his face. “I just…got carried away because you were so cool when you won the race! And you’re kind of down on yourself sometimes,…so I thought maybe if you joined the track team, you’d see how amazing what you can do is and people would see you’re…ugh, it was stupid.”
Natsume’s cheeks burned. “That’s.. it sounds like you were really thinking of me, Nishimura, thank you—"
“No, don’t thank me!” Nishimura said fiercely. “I wasn’t looking out for you or your feelings at all, I just decided what I wanted for you without asking you. And God, I didn’t even think about injuries!”
Natsume stared at him in bafflement. “Why would you need to think about injuries? It’s not like I need special protection. I knew what I was getting into. People get hurt in sports all the time. It’s normal.”
“No, it’s different with you.” Nishimura slammed his hands down on knees, red blotches spreading on his face. “Because when you get hurt, you downplay it or try to hide it, and if you do that in track, it can mess you up for life!” Nishimura was talking faster and faster, the words just pouring out of his mouth. “It’s dangerous because you act like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter, and that you don’t get why we all care so much, and I know it’s because you’ve been through a lot and I don’t want to pry, but it makes me so—“
He stopped short, blanching. “Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say all that. U-uh, sorry, just forget it, It’s none of my business…”
A lump formed in Natsume’s throat as shame welled up, hot and bitter on his tongue. “No, I’m sorry, Nishimura,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t realize you were thinking all that, that you were worried. I never wanted to—”
“Natsume, no, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I know it’s not on purpose, I know it’s not your fault.” Nishimura pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is about me saying sorry, not you. I really am sorry. And I know you told Sakuragi you wanted to come back once in a while because you didn’t want to disappoint her, but you don’t have to go back there, I’ll talk to her—”
“You don’t have to talk to her.” Natsume swallowed his shame for now, determined to set things straight. “I liked the team. I really do want to come back.”
“You don’t have to pretend, I told you, don’t lie if you don’t have to—”
“Nishimura,” Natsume interjected gently, putting his hand on the other boy’s shoulder. Nishimura finally looked over at him, eyes downcast. “It made me really happy. When we won, and everyone was cheering, and I saw how excited you were…I don’t know. Running is just something I do sometimes, and I don’t think it’s special or particularly like it. But being able to help you was the first time I felt like it was something…more.” More than survival. More than something I’m forced to do.
“Really…?” Nishimura hesitated, looking disbelieving.
“Really. And I really am glad I came here. I enjoyed it, you know, until I tripped. But even then, everyone was nice and helped me. It made me want to come back.”
Nishimura stared at him for a while, expression unreadable. Then he sighed and leaned back. “Okay, well, good.” Natsume could see Nishimura’s shoulders slump as the tension drained out of him. “But I still pushed you. You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m just sorry I did it and I won’t do it again.”
“Okay, apology accepted.”
Nishimura looked startled, like he’d expected Natsume to keep fighting him on this, then his face broke into a grin. “Thanks, man.”
“You don’t have to make excuses for me either. I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you guys out when I get hurt. I’ll stop hiding it or trying to downplay it. I mean, I do want all of you to understand I…” Natsume knew better than to say he was “used to it” now, so he searched around for a less alarming but still honest way to phrase it. “I have a high pain tolerance, so sometimes it really doesn’t seem like a big deal.
“Dude, that doesn’t make me feel better.” He could tell from how Nishimura looked at him he’d heard the “I’m used to it” even though Natsume hadn’t said it out loud.
“No, I know. Look, from now on, I’ll admit when something hurts.” He looked down at his ankle, wincing. “Like my ankle really hurts right now. I don’t want to go to the hospital but I’m kind of looking forward to getting painkillers.” He looked over at Nishimura. “Did that work? Or did it just sound whiney?”
“Nah, you need to whine a little more, man.” Nishimura punched him lightly on the arm. “I’m telling you, it feels good. When I sprained my ankle a couple years ago, I whined to everyone I knew. That whine was weak. Try harder.”
“It’s…uh, agony. I…might die? Was that good.”
“You need to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.”
They both laughed. Just laughing soothed something in Natsume, his stomach unknotted, and his racing heartbeat slowed. His ankle even hurt a little less.
When the laughter settled, Natsume looked down, twisting his fingers in his lap. “Look, I know I… kind of lie and hide things as reflex a lot. But I’ve been trying to be more open with the people I care about.”
Nishimura shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean, Kitamoto and I aren’t that stupid, we know there’s something going on with you, but you can take as much time as you need. I know you must have your reasons.”
“Thanks.”
Nishimura chuckled suddenly, looking past Natsume.
“Uh oh, here comes your cat. He looks mad! It’s almost like he knows something happened.”
Nyanko-sensei was indeed stomping towards them, his eyes narrowed.
“Agh, I’m really in trouble this time,” Natsume said. Nyanko-sensei jumped into his lap, making sure to throw his heavy weight around as he landed. “Oof.”
“Oh, your troubles have just begun. Don’t forget Touko!” Nishimura said cheerfully.
“Like I could.”
“I wouldn’t use the “I could die” line on her, she might believe you.”
“Amazing advice, thank you.”
Nishimura smirked. “I’d tell you to run, but, you know.”
Mmm…” Natsume said, stroking Nyanko-sensei, who was making faint, irritated noises. “That’s okay. There are some things I don’t want to run away from.
---
I hope you enjoyed this! It was way longer than I thought it would be. And I wish I could have made it funnier. But I had a fun time with my first Natsume fic!
I often think about how incredibly fit Natsume must be, yokai-induced sickliness aside. He spends 75% of his life running from yokai, through forests and mountains and all kinds of shit. Every day is a marathon for him, he arguably gets too much exercise (which might contribute to collapsing from exhaustion a lot. over exercising isn't good for you).
But imagine what a fast runner he must be. He's able to sometimes lose yokai despite their supernatural speed etc. And he's been doing this since he's a child? I just want an episode where it's time for track in gym class and everyone's expecting the kid who's constantly sick and exhausted to be the slowest one, but instead he just passes them all at warp speed. WHEN did he have time to get this in shape, isn't he always inches away from keeling over, his class in chaos. Nishimura and Kitamoto are the least surprised since they've seen him running before, but even they didn't think he was THIS fast., wow, what natural talent.
Actually, there should be a running gag where one of the many stressors Natsume faced over the years is track team coaches trying to constantly recruit him in most of the schools he goes to, so he's constantly trying to hide how fast he is because he can't be a burden and have the people he's living with PAY SPORTS EXPENSES omg :(( and also he wouldn't be able to show up for most of the meetings, so. And also he doesn't like most team sports (the real reason).
He's managed to keep it mostly under wraps in Yatsuhara, but then one day it's the sports day episode and Nishimura trips while carrying the baton as they always do and starts crying so Natsume's like "siiiiiiiigh fine don't worry Nishimura I've got this" and suddenly he's at the finish line. Thus his hellish lot of being hounded by the track coach begins anew, thanks a lot Nishimura.
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muntitled · 2 days ago
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Rich Boyfriend Chronicles
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Pairings: Zhong Chenle x Fem!Reader
Summary: You know how Chenle got when it comes to money. You know how he got when you spent it. More specifically, when you spent his money.
Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, So Slight!Toxic relationship, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Slight Angst, Jealousy (Weaponizing Jisung (sorry Jiji)), HighMaintenance!Reader, Hyperfem!Reader, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, Ownership kink, Needy!Chenle, Unprotected Sex, Premature Orgasm, Dom/Sub Themes, Dubious Consent, Drunk!Chenle, Dirty Talk, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Subspace
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He wonders when you’ll arrive…
You were supposed to be here already. To save him from his friends and their incessant banter.
As Chenle watches the rain droplets running down the restaurant window, he suddenly wishes he never told you to go ahead and have your shopping day alone in the district. He brought you to his city and yet, you weren't even here to enjoy it with him.
But you had pleaded so prettily…
“It's not like I’m going away for good Chenle, I promise I'm just going to shop in the district for the day,” You were already interlocking your van cleef bracelet around your wrist (a bracelet that he bought) and Chenle had watched from his post sitting at the desk. The hotel room was already littered with Chenle's wires from the various gadgets he had set up. His PlayStation was plugged in the moment you two checked in.
“Besides, I'm sure you'll want to enjoy your day off before you're tied down with schedules for the rest of our stay here. Mark said promo in China would be no joke.”
Chenle had spent the morning of his day off consumed by a new video game, but at the sound of your departure, he lowered his headsets and swivelled in his chair to watch you. His eyes glazed over the sundress that hugged your body with my trepidation and much suspicion. His headphones hung lazily from his neck.
“Who’s taking you shopping?” He hoped his inquiry sounded less like a crazed control freak and more like innocent questioning.
A knowing kind of smile had blossomed across your face then as you stalked towards him with your hands behind your back.
“Why?” you tucked a stray braid behind your ear as you neared him, “You jealous?”
Chenle's body immediately tensed when you plopped yourself on your lap.
“Don't be stupid,” he hid behind his usual snark but you could feel his tense muscles shift underneath you. "We have dinner tonight with the others." He was significantly smaller in stature compared to the volume that accentuated your curves but his hands wrapped tentatively around your waist all the same. Chenle's eyes were wide as he looked up at you and his hands held a slight tremor as they rubbed feather light circles on your hips.
“Where did you even buy this bracelet?”
You froze on top of him. “uh, church-”
“They sell van cleef necklaces at church?”
“W-Well..." you swallow thickly, your arms encircling around his neck. "It was a sale! Yes, a church sale, the money's going to charity! Praise the lord-”
“The only charity my money is going to is to you.” he buries his face into your neck and you squirm when he wiggles his finger into your side, eliciting a wave of giggles.
“Who's taking you shopping?” He asked again.
“Well, you are, Chenle,” Your words barely registered in his fogged up bain because you were bending down now, and your lips were tickling the side of his ear as your left hand drifted down his clothed torso, “This is my first time in Beijing,” Your whispers sent the boy hurtling into that very primal part of his brain that was only filled with one thought and one thought alone.
“You want me to have a good time, don't you? That's why you invited me?” Chenle's brain had been reduced to mush and his grip on reality was fumbling by the minute. All he could think about was your hand lining his boxers.
“Yea-” his voice cracks and he lifts his hips ever so slightly, trying to steer your hand to the right place, “You want me to have a good time on this trip right?”
You were absolutely diabolical. Watching his eyes flutter shut as the Beijing sun drifted through the curtains, extenuating every needy twitch along his visage.
In complete vulnerablility he said, “Yeah,” he whispered again, “Fuck, I’ll give you anything, I’ll do anything, just… carry on-” The smirk on your face grew until you were swiping your palm over the hard bulge in his sweatpants only momentarily before you drifted your hand to his left pocket. The little amount of contact was enough to have Chenle raggedly exhaling as his hips stuttered and a rash shiver wracked through his spine.
You sit back up again, on your haunches, still seated on his lap with his wallet dangling from your fingers.
“Shopping allowance, please and thank you,” You hand him the wallet with a cheeky smile and a bowed head.
Chenle rolls his eyes, turning his head to stare out at the Beijing metropolitan beyond. His whisper is starkly incredulous as he mumbles a quiet “This Girl…”
“Quick,” you had urged, now bouncing in silent anticipation as you waited for him to hand over what it is you needed. In that very second, Chenle's hand digs into your hip. “Don't do that,” his fingers dug into your hips, immediately stopping your excited bounce, “Or you’re really not going shopping,”
In hindsight, Chenle should have perhaps withheld his card and forced you on this dinner with friends. However, he also couldn't deny the very suspicious ache in his gut that curled and coiled during these times when you needed him. It makes his head dizzy with lust.
He wished he didn't let you go.
Despite the hushed cacophony filling the Dim Sum restaurant, Chenle cannot help but think his table is the loudest of them all. Haechan and Jeno’s back-and-forth does nothing to allay that slight trickle of embarrassment that crawls up the back of Chenle's neck and he lightly rubs his face with both hands, wanting nothing more than to sink into the restaurant's leather seats. He raises his phone, perfectly content with tapping away at his social media while they bickered around him.
"You're gonna cover our bill.” Jeno says very sternly as the bottom of his beer glass hits the wooden table. His lips are pursed as he swallows his drink, but his eyes are dead serious. “Jaemin covered it in Copenhagen.” Jeno's finger prods at his chest hidden under a thick fleece sweater, “I did Rotterdam. You're covering the bill, Haechan.” Jeno rarely had to say anything above an unreasonable volume, and Chenle was much the same in that regard. When Jeno said something the first time, people usually listened. He rarely had to speak up for a second time but Chenle supposed that was why God made Haechan. To infuriate Jeno.
Chenle sinks further in his seat as he immediately scrolls into your chat. He types his ‘Where are you?’ with the urgency of a broken man and he frowns when you don't respond within the immediate minute.
Chenle did not like that.
He much preferred you when you were messaging him compulsively, especially when the two of you found yourselves apart.
Your text arrives, but not soon enough.
[17:21, You] Are you having a good time, baby?
[17:22, Chenle] No, Haechan and Jeno are acting like hooligans in front of everyone and Jisung thinks I don't notice him leaning over my shoulder to read this text.
Chenle looks up at the boy next to him, a very unimpressed deadpan painted across his face.
[17:30, You] Tell Jiji I say hi
[17:30, Chenle] No.
“Tell her I said Hi back,” Jisung whispers. He winces, not even a second later, grabbing his arm and lightly cradling the spot where Chenle just shoved him.
“Ah!” Haechan hollers from across the table, “Kids, no fighting-”
“Focus on paying the bill.” Jeno mumbles.
Chenle doesn't look up from your chat as his hands suffocate the little digital box. He's breathing heavily, suddenly uncomfortable with this little hypothetical crush you have on Jisung. He knew you were joking to piss him off. You knew that he knew you were joking to piss him off, but Chenle still rolls his eyes anyway. He tucks his chin into his hoodie as he grumbles.
[17:39, Chenle] I'd seriously rather be here with you
[17:40, You] Aww babe I miss you too
[17:40, Chenle] How much?
[17:41,You] Like… Alot, Idk?
[17:42, Chenle] Show me
[17:42, You] Show you what?
[17:43, Chenle] How much you miss me
[17:44, You] i'm still trying on dresses if you wanna see
Almost immediately, a Facetime call lights up his screen and Chenle immediately rises from his seat, scooting out of the booth and heading straight for the bathroom.
Chenle's eyes widen slightly as a zap of excitement strikes through his stomach. He quenches his dry mouth with his beer.
Meanwhile, this round has continued to go unpaid with Haechan, ever the stubborn bull.
"Okay, well I don't feel like paying for anyone's food," Haechan folds his arms in defiance and juts his nose up to the sky, all while turning his head very smugly.
It's the last thing Chenle hears before he's answering your facetime as he slinks into one of the bathroom stalls.
His phone is lowered, his brows furrowed in frustration. All of that eases away however, the second your face is projected onto his screen. From the mess in the background he can see you're back at the hotel.
The way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you should've been incredibly embarrassing but Chenle doesn't care, because you've propped the phone on a shelf, giving him a more-than-perfect view of the dress you were trying on.
“How’s my little monster doing?” You ask distractedly as you zipped up the dress. Chenle wishes he was there to help you zip it back down. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend wasn't in the business of appearing like a lovesick puppy. He only leans his back against the stall as he says, “Where are you? I thought you'd be here by now?”
“You actually believed I'd willingly want to have dinner with your friends?” You give him an unimpressed look as you throw your braids over your shoulder, admiring the cocktail dress in the mirror.
“There's only so much flirting from Jaemin I can handle, Chenle-”
“Jaemin's the reason you ditched m- wait.” Chenle murmurs distractedly as he brings the phone closer to his face. You watch with a smirk as he says, “Turn around.” You do as he says, turning slowly to show him how this particular design snuggly around your curves. His breathing is heavy.
“I look good, right?”
In classic Chenle fashion, he skirts past your fishing for a compliment to directly say, “That looks expensive.”
“But I look so pretty.”
“Take it off-” there's an urgency in his voice that fuels you with an immense sense of power. You knew it was a good dress. It's better than good. The manner in which the sweetheart neckline dipped was anything but innocent, and you knew Chenle would like it.
“Why don't you come take it off for me?”
A wispy curse drifts out of his mouth as he throws his head back against the wall before he says. “I'll be there soon.”
Chenle is rushing out the bathroom as he pockets his phone, carelessly swerving past the other tables in search of his own.
The bickering has yet to cease. He's so happy you're saving him.
“And where are you going?” Renjun asks with a frown on his face.
“The hotel.” Is all Chenle says as he slips on his letterman jacket. Below him, Jisung blushes a deep red, Having clearly understood the implication of Chenle's words.
"You're a child."
"I'll be a child." Comes Haechan's rebuttal, "A child that's not covering the bill-"
Chenle observes this as he stands before the table, ready to head out.
"Jesus, stop being kids!" Chenle finds his voice somewhere amongst the rubble of the conversation. "'I’ll cover this round, just stop fighting, God-”
Chenle's hand is already reaching into his denim jeans, patting idly for his wallet.
“Would you look at that,” Jeno says, sending Haechan the deadliest glare he could muster, “An actual adult.”
“Doesn't Chenle's dad like… Own the city?” Haechan deadpans, “So I expected him to pay anyway-”
This statement only brought about a fresh conflict, which Chenle disrupts with his slightly deflated interjection.
“Uh… guys…” One by one, they all snap their eyes towards him and Chenle's shoulders sag. A sheepish kind of smile crinkles Chenle's eyes.
“One of you are gonna have to cover the bill- I don't have my card,”
“Why don't you have your card?” comes Jisung's interjection before Mark slips in, “That's very irresponsible of you-”
Chenle was already giving them a farewell salute before turning his back on the table.
He's typing hurriedly across the screen of his phone, already ordering an Uber.
“Just charge the bill to my room,” he tells the man stationed at the front of the house. They exchanged the necessary details before he's off.
-
You know how Chenle got when it comes to money. You know how he got when you spent it. More specifically, when you spent his. You're not sure where that kind of desire came from, perhaps from some part of his brain that wanted to take care of you.
Since you last spoke, you've been seated idly on the bed with jittery nerves, your nails tapping against the water bottle. The relics of your shopping spree sit idly in the corner and you watch yourself idly in the mirror. It's a floor-to-ceiling that sat directly adjacent to the bed.
You're nervous. That much is clear. Bubbling just beneath the surface, however, is sheer excitement.
The ice cold water flowing down your throat had done little in quelling the heat that had ignited along the expanse of your skin. Everything feels too tight suddenly. This tiny cocktail you had slipped into, suddenly feels like a fucking torture chamber. Even your braids feel tight in their high ponytail. You need to get rid of it.
[18:03, Chenle] Open the door
You've already zipped the dress down when his notification flashes across your screen. Your feet are muted against the carpet as you open the door.
Your boyfriend stands on the other side of the threshold, dressed in his simple grey sweatpants and letterman jacket. A single gold chain glimmers from the fluorescents.
“We answer the door naked now?” He raises his eyebrows, hair damp with rain as he asses you in nothing but your lace underwear.
“Well I was undressing when you arrived-” Your words immediately drown under the weight of the kiss that Chenle crashes against your lips. He immediately crowds you by the doorway, pushing the door shut with his foot as he pushes you up against the wall, his tall frame hunching over yours. His hands greedily sink into your hips and his jaw is tight as he peppers kisses everywhere.
He kisses you desperately, and fervently, it barely registers when he's pulling away.
“Thought I told you to keep the dress on.” He's rubbing dizzying circles against your cheek as you look up at him with hazy eyes.
He wanted to fucking eat you alive.
“You were taking too long,” you pat his hand still firmly on your cheek, “Take your shoes off.” You lightly coax him out of his sneakers before smiling up at him with your lopsided swollen lips and smeared lipstick. Your hand interlocks into his as you lead him deeper into the apartment and he follows like a limp piece of skin, a helpless puppy with no sense of direction other than your safe navigation. “You have lipstick on your face,” You giggle before leading you both deeper into the hotel suite.
“I don't care-” Chenle says, before immediately setting his eyes on the myriad bags sitting idly in a corner. All sorts of labels were affirmed on the cardboard faces of each bag and Chenle looked back at you. You at least had the gall to appear sheepish, wrapping your arms around your exposed stomach like a child awaiting her scolding.
“Who possibly needs this many clothes?” There's a scolding edge to Chenle's voice as he shakes off his letterman jacket. He walks closer towards you. Your heart rate picks up as you avoid eye contact. Choosing instead to keep your gaze on Chenle's chest, which, almost far more harrowing, is being covered by a thin compression shirt. He looked borderline edible.
Your panties are drenched at the very sight of him.
The frown on Chenle's face is teasing, as he locks his hands behind his back, only waltzing closer and closer. His eyes narrow.
You're tripping backwards onto the bed, appearing even smaller underneath a looming, Chenle. He must be drunk.
You're tilting your head up at him, “How much did you and your friends have to dri-”
“Are you already wet?” That sentence alone allows you to conclude quite quickly that Chenle and his friend did, in fact, have a lot to drink. He licks his lips before descending on you until he's hovering slightly above you with his single chain dangling just above your head. There was no concrete way to deal with confident, drunk Chenle, you just sort of, had to take it all in stride until he was sober enough to be embarrassed about his forwardness.
You try to wiggle yourself out from under his frame but Chenle was already beginning to leave wet kisses on your neck, licking and sucking at the skin while producing the most obscene sounds known to man. He groans when he slots his hips between your steepeled legs. He lowers his hips to yours, dragging his clothed dick along the surface of your cunt and you moan involuntarily.
"Greedy, Greedy girl," he whispers, still burying his head between your neck as he humps against your clothed core. Your hips stutter upwards on their own accord, your jaw locked far too tight.
"Spending all my money like that-" he scolds, shaking his head in dismay.
"M'sorry," his snickers has your lips forming into a small pout.
"You're not sorry," his lips are inches from yours, "You're just gonna do it again-"
"-and again, and again..." you bio at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.
Chenle's arms grow weak. "Shit-" he lets his hand slip between your legs as he continues with his face buried in your collarbone, exposing you to the fresh, oceanic scent of his shampoo as his lips begin to lick over your clothed breasts.
“I need you wet-” he mumbles, “Don't think I can waste time on foreplay tonight, pretty girl.”
You unconsciously lift your hips higher, immediately mystified by his ministrations. A slight gasp wrenches itself from your throat when your cunt meets his spindly fingers.
“Chenle-”
You're lying supine on the Clarifornia king bed and Chenle hovers above you. Fully clothed while you're almost naked. His hand is digging into the sheets beside your head as he hovers over you. Chenle's body acts as a great big shield, hiding you away from the city lights bleeding through the floor to ceiling windows.
“Condom,” you begin to say but your words are already escaping you and you're drifting off into fuzzy, foggy subspace. “Le- we needa-”
He shuts you up with a small peck on the lips, unbeknownst to you, he's already pulling his cock out and positioning the head right at your weeping entrance. “It'll be quick.” he says with a second kiss, “I'll pull out, I promise.” He's already swiping away your panties, exposing your weeping cunt to the warm air.
“B-But you're intoxicated- holy fuck!” He slowly eases the head of his cock through your folds and the lubrication from both your arousal aids in making the process less painful but certainly not less uncomfortable. “F-Fuck-’
“I'm your boyfriend,” Chenle breathes out as he pushes his cock further in, “You're not exactly taking advantage of me.”
Unable to stop himself from slamming his cock in, Chenle winces at the tight grip your cunt has him in. He needed this so fucking badly. He needed your warmth, your presence. The world seemed completely and utterly meaningless when you were there to provide meaning for him.
“Fuck, you're so tight, you're so tight, so, so tight-”
You're a whimpering drooling mess underneath him, with your head rolled to the side, eyes half lidded in ecstasy as Chenle made avid use of your body with his deep strokes that only grew more and more rough. “Fucking, fuck-”
“J-Just like that, - please don't stop-'' your breath is knocked out of you the deeper he goes and the discomfort quickly bleeds into pleasure. A pleasure so profound you're arching your back for him, forcing his cock deeper. Chenle's grunts turn into a slew of tiny, pathetic whimpers and you unconsciously squeeze around him as he bullies his cock further and further into your soaking cunt.
“You're making such a big mess, you know that?” You could feel it. Your wetness was seeping into the linen underneath you and all you could do was whimper silently, bottom lip protruding as you took every bit of everything he had to give.
“Quick,” he keeps whispering in his light-as-a-feather voice, “Y-You want me to fill you up, huh?” Chenle's mind is completely clouded with lust and ruts into you deeper and deeper, his pelvis brushing against your puffy clit.
“You wanna sit here with my cum leaking out of your cunt baby-” You're gasping, trying to wriggle your torso up.
“Chenle! You said you wouldnt-”
“For the fantasy, baby,” he places a reassuring kiss against your lips before parting those lips as he hits a particularly deep spot inside. “I-Its for the fantasy baby, relax.” You're both breathing into each other’s mouth. The coldness of his chains hits your chin in intervals and you're both sure that you might die of overstimulation. “You're so much work, you know that? So much fucking work-”
“Chenle I'm gonna cum-” You could feel your orgasm wanting to snap and your words only spurred him on quicker, “Fuck, me too-”
“Oh God, you feel so good,” His eyes were squeezed shut, so completely lost in his own pleasure that he barely registered you slipping into your own orgasm. All Chenle could feel was your cunt tightening around him before he nearly spilled inside of you.
“Fuck! Oh- fuck-” Chenle's clumsily grabs ahold of his cock already spurting cum before he's milking the rest out over your stomach “Jesus- FUCK!” it was the loudest you ever heard him and your chest rises and falls as you watch Chenle make a complete mess of you as if you truly were nothing more than an object. His object
“F-Fuck,” Chenle slumps over beside you but not before dragging you in by his side. It's like he wanted to live in your skin.
“I can't believe you came inside me.”
“didn't mean it,” He says, before nuzzling into your neck, already drifting off to a land where you never ever left him, even for a moment.
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nanenna · 8 hours ago
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Jeez Louise This is a Mess
Sleepy King (Nenna edition) Master Post
Apologies in advance, I'm not very familiar with John Constantine, trying to do anything from his perspective is definitely an unwise decision. I have chosen it anyway. He's almost definitely OOC.
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John watched the Fentons and the mayor just saunter through the brand new hole in the mayor’s wall like this was just a normal Friday for them. Considering how weird the town was as a whole, it probably was. And he meant that by the old meaning of the word and as literal as one could possibly interpret it. He’d never been anywhere where the veil was so thin over such a large area, with æther so thick in the air of course it was affecting the locals. Probably had something to do with whoever or whatever had cloaked the whole town.
John turned to Tall Dark and Broody, “So, what happened to all the bugs and trackers you put on them originally?”
Batsy frowned, “Danny’s are still in the Fenton residence, expected since he clearly changed his clothes. His parents’ trackers and bugs all went offline not long after arriving home, the ones I placed inside the residence are malfunctioning.”
“And that’s not the least bit suspicious?” John asked.
“It’s incredibly suspicious,” Batsy said with a completely straight face before turning and also walking right out the brand new hole. “I suggest you actually use the comm I gave you earlier, they’re explaining the situation to Masters.”
Unfortunately Mr. Gargles Gravel for Breakfast had a point, John sighed and did put in the comm, though he knew it would be spotty with the use of magic to follow the group. Batsy and Wonder Woman could follow however they liked, John did not have the energy for that.
The comms were staticky, cutting in and out even without John’s abuse of the thin veil to quick step around town. Not surprising, the amount of pure death magic radiating off the two dead-alive people in that tank would be enough to mess with most electronics even if the veil weren’t practically non-existent.
“Somehow this place feels cozy,” Boston commented as he followed John.
“You would think so.”
The conversation on the comm was getting worse, the bugs were clearly slowly giving up the ghost. John only caught a few words here and there, and those were only because they were Ghost Speak, something that shouldn’t be possible for flesh and blood mouths to speak. It’s just bits and pieces, names and titles mostly, but if he’s understanding this right…
“Huh, that may change the situation a bit.”
“What are you going on about?” Boston asked.
“It sounds like Pariah isn’t the Ghost King anymore. But Batsy’s bugs are losing the war against æther, so when we get there you’re gonna need to go spy on them.”
“Will that work?”
“Try to keep out of sight, but even if you get caught the worst they’ll do is kick you out. Undead solidarity.”
Boston grumbled, but when John met back up with Batsy and Wonder Woman staring through a window right to where the group was talking, Boston did as he was asked and slipped right through the wall and inside. John cast a quick spell to spy through Boston.
Boston floated slowly into the room, seemingly becoming braver as the Fentons looked right past him without reacting. Unfortunately, he got a little too close to the one person in the room that could definitely see him. The kid jumped out of his seat in surprise.
“Don't sneak up on me like that!” The kid whined as he picked himself up off the floor. Then he froze, eyes glaring at Boston. “How did you sneak up on me? You didn't activate my ghost sense at all.”
“Oh, you can see me? And ghost sense?”
“You don't know who I am?”
“Uh… Daniel Fenton?”
“Well yes, but ghosts don't usually call me that.”
“Then what do they call you?”
“How about you tell me your name first?”
“I’m Deadman.”
The kid burst into laughter. “Are you for real?”
“Danny, is it Youngblood?” The sister asked.
“Huh?” The kid looked to his older sister, then back to Boston. He gestured, “You can't see him?”
The Fentons all shook their heads.
The creepy mayor came back into the room holding a cardboard box, knocking a thin layer of dust from the top. “Here it is!” He looked up and frowned. “Who are you, and why are you in my home?”
“I’m Deadman and I’m uh… lost?”
“He didn't set off my ghost sense,” the kid added. He turned back to Boston, “Are you even a ghost?”
Batman, who’d spent the last few minutes getting into the perfect position while he waited for the most dramatic moment chose then to crash through the window. John started cursing as he rushed to climb in after the loon, already prepping a spell. The moment he had a clear line of sight he shot off the revelation spell at the kid.
It did… well not much.
Really about all it did was give the kid a couple extra accessories. He expected them, but he also expected it to somehow reveal the kid’s undead status too. Make him look all glowy and ghostly like he had when he’d first arrived last night, because John was pretty sure the kid hadn’t been kidnapped after all. Or at least not how they originally assumed, he was pretty sure some spirits considered an unwilling summons a kidnapping.
Still, there the crown was. Just floating over the kid’s head, toxic green æther flames around it like a death energy aurora. And like any teenager the kid seemed completely oblivious, having to be told the crown was even there. Once he got a hand on it though he said something odd, “Okay, crown retrieved.”
John just tucked his hands in his pockets, waiting to see what they were doing. Why did they think they needed to find the crown?
“We may have a problem,” The creepy mayor said as he pulled an identical crown from his cardboard box.
“What.” The kid looked back and forth between the crown in his hand and the one in the creeper’s. “Why are there two?”
And, well, John agreed. Why the fuck were there two? He already started muttering an identification spell as the kid turned to him.
“What did you do?!”
“I didn't do anything,” John protested, “that was purely an identification spell, it can't duplicate things!”
“Well clearly you did something wrong,” The kid’s mom said while glaring at the him.
Of course things got dicey after that, the kid and the creepy mayor got into a fight over the second crown, things turned into a right mess, and John was quite content to let them squabble among themselves. He moved to go stand next to Batsy and Wonder Woman, Boston with him, waiting to see how this went.
Of course the tussle then turned into fighting over the ring on the kid’s finger, still blaming John for just revealing the crown and ring the kid had apparently had this whole time.
“Alright, that’s enough. Shut up!” John may have put a bit of intent into that, and it worked beautifully. The whole group stopped and stared at him, finally shutting up. The parents managed to get between the kid and the creeper, each one still with one of the crowns.
The crowns he now knew were both, somehow, legitimate.
John pointed at the kid, “Just call the crown, it’ll listen.”
The kid gave him a disbelieving look. “Oh sure, I’ll just,” he hunched forward a little bit, clapped his hands, and whistled like he was calling a dog, “here Crowny, Crowny, Crowny.”
For a brief moment nothing happened, then the creeper mayor jerked forward as the crown yanked itself from his hand. It went to go join the other crown floating over the kid’s head, one of them grew wider so the other could nestle inside it, both spinning in place but in opposite directions.
Everyone was staring at the display.
“What uh… what are they doing?” The kid asked nervously.
“They… like each other?” The sister asked skeptically.
“Great, wonderful, fabulous, just what I need in my life.” The kid sighed and turned to glare at John. “What. Did. You. DO?!”
“I didn’t do shit,” John replied, much to the parents’ combined horror. “Looks like somehow they’re both legit, my best guess is one of them isn’t from this timeline.”
“Oh,” the sister said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “The Nasty Burger explosion happened after the fight with the king, right?”
“The what?” the kid’s parents asked.
“Oh,” the kid responded, “I’m starting to see why the council of eyeballs hates my guts.”
And wasn’t that a concerning sentence. John desperately needed a drink, thankfully he had a flask on him and chose that moment to take a swig. “Alright, so there should be a second ring too, no point leaving that on Dark’s finger in case he gets out again.”
“Vlad did it,” the kid said while pointing at the creeper.
“Excuse me!” Creeper actually put a hand to his neck, like some fainting Victorian lady.
“Vlad tried to steal the ring and crown, so he let Dark out of the sarcophagus and I had to go clean up his mess, like always.” The kid glared at the creeper, it was starting to paint a really concerning picture.
“I’m sure Vladdie was just trying to keep these powerful artifacts safe,” the kid’s dad said loudly and happily. Yeah, there was the concerning picture again.
“I’d believe it if all he took was the ring, but the crown was safely sealed away with Pariah and he let the guy out to steal it.”
“Just call the ring,” John said gruffly.
“Here Ragey, Ragey, Ragey.” The kid whistled and clapped his hands again. The ring showing up on the kid’s other hand was expected, the glowing green hell hound that came sprinting through the wall and practically tackled the kid wasn’t. “Cujo! Hi! Who’s a good puppy?!”
Keeriest, John needed a stiffer drink.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago
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Family Matters
Inspired by this post; in the same universe as this
Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Thor Odinson
Summary: your new husband's brother surprises you with a visit.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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The doorbell rings again and you barrel so quickly down the stairs, you nearly topple off the bottom step. You catch your breath and grab the post at the bottom of the banister to steady yourself. It’s a splendid house but you told Loki it’s too big for just the two of you. He didn’t like that so you didn’t mention it again, even though it feels empty with how much he’s not around. 
You let those worries slake off of you and hurry to the door. It could be another surprise! Loki hates leaving you for so long so he tries to fill the void with gifts. Sometimes, they make you feel better, other times, you’re just sad. You’d rather have him there. 
It’s not a courier but a familiar face. Your brother-in-law. It’s official as of one month ago. You’re family. 
“Oh, hi,” you deflate, trying not to show your disappointment. You’re not upset it’s him, you just hate being the one to say, “Loki’s not in.” 
Thor smiles. He’s rarely unhappy. “Ah, that’s unfortunate. Where is off to, then?” 
“Work,” you grumble the repetitive explanation. “Important project or something.” 
“Important enough to leave you alone?” He wonders. 
“I... guess,” you try not to mope. Loki says it make you look childish. 
“Well, I am much in the same boat. Alone,” he laughs hollowly. 
“Oh, yes, I... how are you doing?” You ask. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming to the wedding. Really, I know it must’ve been difficult.” 
“I couldn’t miss my brother’s special day,” he shakes his head. “It was a day for love. Wasn’t your fault mine decided to leave...” 
Your heart breaks for him. The day you were married, Frigga told you what happened. A hug fight right after your rehearsal dinner. Jane left before the morning. Despite all that, Thor didn’t show a hint of grief at the wedding. 
“It’s too bad. I liked Jane.” 
“Needless to say, I did too,” he smiles thinly. “Well, I hope I didn’t disturb you very much. I suppose I could come calling tomorrow and hope my brother isn’t too busy for the likes of me.” 
Your heart rents for him. Here you are, a new marriage, a husband to long for, and he lost his girlfriend of five years. You don’t have much else going on, it would be nice to have someone there. 
“Did you wanna hang around for a bit?” You ask. “Not much going on but... this place is eerie when you’re all alone.” 
“Hm, did Loki say when he would return? Wouldn’t mind waiting around a bit,” he suggests. 
“I hope soon but he didn’t say,” you shrug. “Yesterday he wasn’t home until midnight.” 
“Midnight? He would make you wait so long? A lovely young wife like you?” He scoffs. “Well, that is just terrible. I will not commit the same crime as my brother. I’d love to come in.” 
“Alright,” you smile. “I... we could put something on? I was going to watch the new season of the true crime show.” 
“Ha,” he enters as you step back to let you through. “That wouldn’t help being alone, would it?” 
“I guess not,” you giggle. “We could watch something else. A comedy. I’ve been rewatching Friends. For the hundredth time.” 
“Whatever you like,” he slips his shoes off and puts them on the mat. “The only words a woman like you needs to hear, eh?” 
You laugh again, “do you want snacks? I got some caramel corn and gummy bears.” 
“My brother let you bring those in his house?” He wonders. 
“It’s our house,” you face him with a pout as you stand in the broad archway to the front room. 
“Yes, you are correct. My apologies,” he follows. “You know, he only hates those sugary treats because he is weak to them. Be sure to hide them well or you might find some missing.” 
“No, he never wants any,” you continue into the front room. 
“So he wants you to believe,” Thor counters. 
“How about drinks? We got a bunch of wine from the wedding. Some scotch?” 
“I only really indulge in lager and I'm not of the mood for it,” he assures. “I could help with the snacks.” 
“No, no, sit,” you grab the remote and hold it out to him. “Find something to watch. I’m so indecisive I just flick through the menu for an hour.” 
“I will do my best,” he accepts it. His hand dwarfs you own as his fingers brush across yours. Loki’s hands are long, but not as thick. 
You push your shoulders up and spin around to flit off to the kitchen. You scurry away and slide into the kitchen. You go to the cupboard and take down the bag of caramel corn. You pour some in a bowl then grab the package of gummy bears and a box of cream cookies. 
As you come back to the living room, Thor leans forward to set the down the remote. You put the treats on the glass table and sit on the other end of the couch. You only realise then how awkward it is. You’ve never really been alone with him. 
“Thank you. So sweet of you to have me,” he says as he twines his fingers together. “I feel as if everyone has been avoiding me since Jane. I fear I might be a bit... melancholy.” 
“Oh, uh, yeah,” you glance at the TV as it plays an intro to a show you don’t know, “well, how can anyone blame you? You’re going through so much.” 
“I’m an adult, these things happen,” he says. 
“Sure, they do, but I mean, it still hurts. It’s not easy,” you insist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.” 
“Ugh,” he puts his elbows on his legs and cradles his head. “I don’t mean to bring my dark cloud in here.” He rubs his temple. “Truly, I think I’ve been trying to outrun it but... what else can I think of with only an empty home to go to?” 
“Oh, Thor,” you sidle closer on the cushions. You gently touch his arm. His bicep is a lot bigger against your hand. “It’s okay. You can’t hold it in forever. It's good to feel these things. Once you get through that, you can move on and I’m sure you’ll find the right one.” 
He sniffles and you flinch. He quakes against your touch and your chest knots. You never imagined him crying. Especially not a man his size. You don’t know what else to do but comfort him. You rub his shoulder and he huddles over further and wipes his face. 
His long blond locks conceal his tears as he mops his sadness away with his knuckles. You hum and get even closer, your hand trailing up his back. 
“Thor, I'm sorry. It feels so cruel, I know. Especially the timing of it--” 
He startles you as he leans against you. You let out an ‘oop’ as he turns to embrace you, curling his shoulders and hunching to put his head on your shoulder. You have no choice but to let him. 
“Oh, it’s been awful,” he snivels. “I’ve been so lonely.” 
“Shhh, let it out, that’s okay,” you rub his back and stare at the wall. You certainly didn’t expect the night to go like this. 
He holds you tight as he cries against you, his body heaving. You know Loki isn’t the best for these sorts of things so you’re happy at least he trusts you enough to listen. That’s about as much as you can do. 
“You won’t believe how cruel she was,” Thor rasps. “She just yelled and yelled. She shoved me and—she just kept accusing me.” 
“Accusing you? Of what?” 
He’s quiet for a moment. He lifts his head to look at you, his arm across your back. “Of wanting another.” 
“Oh?” You blink in surprise. 
“I told her no, no, I did not, but she kept saying “I see it! I see it in your face!” And I swore to her, no, no,” He wipes his face with his other hand, “but now I’m afraid she might have been right.” 
“She... who?” You frown. 
His arm wraps around you, his fingers dipping into your side and in a moment, the couch shifts beneath you. You cannot resist as surprise paralyses you. Thor lifts you easily onto his lap, turning you and sliding you to sit on his thighs. 
“Woah, uh, whaat--” You press your hand to his chest. “Please, Thor, you’re emotional--” 
“She was right, kitten, you are so soft, so gentle, and I could not look away. She caught me--” 
“No, no, you can’t-- Loki--” 
“Loki leaves you alone. He would rather work than stay and adore his precious wife,” He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. “He would abandon you...” he leans in as his eyes fall to your lips, “and leave you unkissed.” 
You try to pull back but you’re trapped in his embrace. He squeezes you close and crushes his lips to yours. You squeal and struggle against him, finally turning your head so his mouth smears across your cheek. 
“Untouched,” his hand trails down your neck and you clasp onto two of his fingers, straining to keep him from going lower. “Unloved--” 
“Thor, stop, let me go--” 
He leans over so your back is on the cushion, his arm beneath you as your legs are folded up over his. He is on his side next to you. His large hand comes back to frame your face and he squeezes to keep you from squirming. You tug as his shirt and whine. 
“Thor, please, stop. We can forget--” 
“I can’t forget,” he growls and nuzzles your nose. You whimper and push against his chest again. He is stone, he is unmoving, and you know you cannot stop him. “I will never forget how you feel against me, kitten.” 
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eph3merall · 2 days ago
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toxic!ex!matt + a sprinkle of mean!matt . . .
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cw ; slapping
matt is a... nice person. you know this, he knows this. he doesn't get mad too easily, keeping his calm almost all the time when anyone ticks him off. at least, that's what you thought. it never occurred to you how toxic the man was, leaving him after finding girls' contacts on his phone and some of the toxic shit he's done.
but, it always confused you how matt never seemed to care when you officially announced to him you two were done. it was like he just didn't care at all, after it took you so long to muster up the courage to even confront him about it. matt was shrugging and chewing on the toothpick in his mouth, as you huff in frustration and throw a few more curses in his direction.
you eventually got all your stuff and ended up crashing at your friends' house for a little. she was happy to have you anyways, not having seen eachother in awhile as you talked to her for hours about everything. in the end, she wasn't surprised that matt was a douche bag. maybe you aren't exactly surprised either—but he was a good boyfriend... kind of. but, if everything else wasn't good with him, the sex definitely was.
maybe it's why you find yourself outside matt's door. you're upset. pissed off and annoyed. matt always knew how to calm that storm down, and maybe you just needed him without realizing. your first instinct was to just go to him, yet you weren't even sure why. he was an asshole in the relationship.
when you find yourself in his room, matt is rolling his eyes when you start rambling on and on about whatever the fuck. you always talked a shit ton. that never really did change about you—but you looked.. more glowy. like you were doing better. a lot better.
when you kept droning on about something probably about him, matt is just sighing and sliding his hand into your hair. patting your head and then his hand comes up to pat your cheek a few times. "shut up." before his hand slapped your cheek gently—shock forming across your features as the sting starts from the harsh impact. you blink and turn your head to glare at matt, even though it did distract you from everything you were so worried about.
it's why matt has you on your knees between his legs, a hand cradling your face as you whine gently. he knows you. god, he knows you so well that he knows just how to get you to stop yapping your ass off. maybe you needed it too, with how much anxiety had wrapped around your entire body.
"shh, y'got it. doin' real good, baby," matt is cooing at you so gently, you forget that he's your ex. that you probably shouldn't even be here right now, for both of your sakes. but you can't help the way your cheek leans into the palm of his hand, warm and inviting. his eyes glance at your pitiful fucking expression, his free hand slapping you across the face gently.
sometimes, matt doesn't feel like making you suck his dick when you get too pissed off. so, he'll settle on this, or some other tactic to get you to shut your mouth. even after you two have broken off, some things just never change. and, in some way, matt kind of hates how well he knows you as he lands another slap across your pretty lil' face. "i got you, baby. i always got ya. don't gotta worry that head off anymore."
inspired from a thought i posted idk how long ago
@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita
©eph3merall 2024
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mm-lurking · 3 days ago
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Malfunction: Heart Mode - Boothill
Based on this post. fem reader. Praying this is not ooc. Writing is kinda choppy, I tried my best. 1.6k words. tag: @nvuy hope you like it -- Boothill is one strong muddle-fudger. He does not give a rat's behind when it comes to romantic love, affection, and all that fudging nonsense. Even if it has crossed his mind, he's too busy dealing with the forking problems of the cosmos and most importantly trying to find that son of a nice lady who is responsible for killing his sweet angel and destroying his planet.
Yet here he is, standing in front of you at the bar with a drink in his hand as he hears his machine heart starting to whir. You both were regulars at the bar and often ran into each other from time to time. Your encounters were akin to something like being seatmates; there was enough information exchanged to know about each other yet it was nothing personal. While you didn't quite understand why he would disappear for long periods before returning like nothing happened, you never questioned it and were simply happy to see him again.
He too liked meeting up with you. He couldn't help but flash his razor-sharp teeth whenever he saw you; calling you “partner!” out loud before greeting you and asking how you had been. The little interactions you both had were always a pleasure and as time passed, he seemed to grow more attached to seeing you.
Today was a little different. Compared to your usual outfit, you were dressed up all fancy and the more he looked at you, the louder the whirring of his heart got.
"Fudge."
He mutters under his breath. You look at him inquisitively as he turns his head sideways and sighs.
"Something the matter Boothill?" "It's nothing partner."
You watch as he chugs down his glass and sets the empty vessel down on the bar counter before ordering more.
"I haven't even finished my first drink yet and you're already done?"
You laugh a little as you take a sip of your drink. The dim lights of the bar made your jewellery glow and alongside the reflections of other shiny things, you looked heavenly in his eyes. He doesn’t answer so you look over and find him dazed.
"Boothill...? Um, do you need some space?" "Fudge!"
He can't help but say it out loud this time, covering his face as he scrunches his eyebrows and frowns. This was not how he normally behaved. What in the hot diggity fudge was going on with him?
"Yes- I mean no, ugh fork me!"
You stand there confused (and slightly amused) at how he seems to be fighting himself like a madman. He almost looked possessed from how he kept going back and forth with himself as if he was surprised at what he was saying. Like his tongue wasn't his own.
"I'll give you some space."
The last thing you wanted was for him to hurt himself or those around him. You finally decide to leave just to make sure everything's alright only for him to grab your arm and then quickly let go in shock.
"Sorry 'bout that partner.”
Boothill awkwardly apologises for his unusual behaviour. Before you can reply, a drunk accidentally pushes you from behind and you lose your balance causing you to fall straight into his arms.
“I-!?” “Um…?!”
Both of you are speechless. He swiftly holds your waist with one hand while the other firmly holds onto malt juice. Your hands are tightly gripping his shoulders from the fear of falling. No coherent thought is spoken but the flustered look on your faces has got some of the bar regulars around you giggling.
You don’t even hear the apology of the one who accidentally pushed you. It's as if time has slowed down and nothing exists outside you both. Strangely, he doesn’t let you go and you don’t move either making things even more awkward.
The strong alcohol you were sipping on makes you tipsy and somehow gives you the courage to lift your head and gaze into Boothill's unique eyes. You've always admired how dashing he looks; from his physique to his dressing style and even his interesting way of speaking. And now here you were up close, staring disrespectfully at his face and how handsome he looked.
Boothill is no different either, he's gazing at you hesitantly as he tries to find something to say but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is-
“Fudge me…” “I'm sure the ladies at the ranch think about that regularly.”
You mumble without thinking and he tenses up.
“I- what?!”
He stutters as his cheeks turn slightly red and his eyes widen.
“Uh?! Nothing!”
You mentally slap yourself for blurting that out loud. Even if it was true, why did you have to say it and make things awkward? Come on! You both were having a somewhat endearingly awkward time together! 
You attempt to conjure up something to smooth things over but your thinking is disrupted by a strangely loud machine sound that seems to be coming from nearby. The whoosh is accompanied by irregular beeping sounds, almost like one of those technology things Boothill had told you about. 
You glance around to see if you can find the source only to realise-
It’s coming from Boothill.
“Oh.” You whisper under your breath but the cyborg (who still doesn't let you go nor drinks his beverage and is as still as a statue for some reason) hears you loud and clear.
“Something the matter, pretty lady?” “Yes. Do you plan on us staying in this position until the bar closes?”
Instead of answering his question, you deflect it with another. He turns red again and stammers badly which makes you giggle and further confirms your theory.
“Gotcha.”
Before Boothill can ask what you’re doing, you slowly drag your hands down his shoulders until they rest on his chest. You feel the rapid whirring of his heart through the vibrations it emits through your fingertips. A tiny smirk spreads on your face and you look back at him.
“You’re pretty cute.”
You flirtatiously speak. The look of confusion and embarrassment on his face makes you laugh harder.
“What- hey what- I-”
Boothill’s stammering only gets worse alongside the overheating of his heart. He tries to reply with a snarky comment but the only thing he’s capable of doing is squeezing your waist harder and propping himself up with the bar counter to avoid falling. You, being the woman you are, do not stop the teasing.
“You can’t handle affection, can you? Look at you sweet thing, your heart is overworking and your synesthesia beacon has already overheated.” “Shut…” “I barely said anything and you’re malfunctioning already? How amusing.” “Son of a nice lady…” “I am indeed the daughter of a nice lady.”
“You-!”
He is bewildered at your unexpected behaviour but that painfully obvious blush on his cheek tells you he's not mad about it.
“Oh dear,” you chuckle and pry yourself off his metal chest, “I should stop or else your…eccentric friends…will hold me responsible for any severe malfunctions.”
This was enough teasing from you today. If it were up to you, you would go on and on but you feared any dire consequences that would affect Boothill. You lift and steady yourself up nonchalantly as if you just didn't cause the ranger to nearly pass out from your shenanigans.
Despite the cold metal exterior, he feels the loss of warmth from you moving your body away. His hand slowly retracts from your waist but lingers as if he hesitates to let go. The overheating of his system rapidly starts to decrease, however, he is unable to calm his emotions down completely. He turns his attention away from his mechanical heart and gazes at you curiously while you fix your wrinkled dress.
“You are one hell of a woman.”
A long sigh leaves his mouth as he speaks as if still processing your chaos. A sly smile appears on your face when you (finally) hear him speak properly.
“Took you a while to get talking didn't it mister?”
That grin on your face screams ‘this wasn’t even my best attempt’ but he shrugs it off. He unknowingly takes a step closer to you as if wanting your presence as close to him as possible. The (welcomed) intrusion into your personal space causes you to sharply inhale. He simply places his hand over the rim of your filled glass and whispers gently.
“You think I'd let any lady come close like that?”
Your mouth practically foams as you try to formulate a response. Eventhough you're not looking him, you can feel his gaze on you which makes you nervous.
“I'll tell you something sweetheart. I've got some fudging business to attend to in a bit but the next time we meet, I'll finish what you started.”
His voice is low and rumbly as he subtly warns you of the consequences of your actions. He follows it with a tight squeeze of your hand and then steps away from you. Your mind protests his leave but you're too stunned to speak; had you put yourself on his wanted list now? 
There is a devilish smile on his face as he checks his gun and locks it before walking away with it casually. Next time, he'd show you what a cowboy is capable of.
Hey, at least you were living out the dreams of those ranch ladies. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.
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hunter470 · 2 days ago
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My 9-1-1 RANT
Ok, I don’t normally do these types of posts, but I can’t move on until I get some things out. These are just my thoughts about the latest episodes of 9-1-1 as well as overall comments on the Buck/Tommy relationship. These opinions are mine and are based on the countless hours of TV I’ve watched in my 54 years on this planet, as well as my knowledge of writing and how Hollywood operates. I’m not confirming that any of this is true or are the real intentions of anyone involved with the show. Just my opinions. So, you can agree with me or not. I’m not trying to persuade anyone in any way. Also, I’m not going to get into endless arguments about my opinions but feel free to comment if you want, I just don’t promise I’ll reply. 
Ok, here we go. Sorry it’s so long. Like I said earlier, I just needed to get it out. So many wasted opportunities.
If you think TM cares what the fans want, you’re seriously kidding yourself. If he did, Buddie would have been canon a long time ago. The only thing he cares about is ratings and his vision for the show, which can change at a moment’s notice with no rhyme or reason as we’ve seen. 
Although I loved Buck and Tommy together, I knew the show wouldn’t do their story justice. So, no matter what TM or OS have said, the bi story was only to garner publicity, draw in new viewers, and increase ratings especially with the show moving to a new network. There was no altruistic reason behind it so don’t kid yourself. They knew there was an audience for the story because of all the Buddie shippers. Just remember, it’s called show business, not show friends for a reason.
Do you think OS really cares about bi representation? Based on his latest comments and non-apology it’s obvious he only cares about getting the stories that garner him the most screen time and press. Seriously, read his latest interviews. He’s excited to get to have fun now. So, congrats OS, Buck gets to F around. Just shows how most, if not all, actors are ego driven no matter what they say. Sorry not sorry.
TM has commented that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. In fact, I recall him saying to Buddie fans if they don’t like it, read fanfiction. If that didn’t clue you in, then you weren’t reading the room. Kinda reminds me of another show runner…for those who watched H50 you know who I’m talking about. That’s why I don’t get heavily invested in these shows. I’ll watch but I never expect anything I like to last…especially if it has to do with gay relationships.
It says a lot that the show remained completely silent about the bullying and death threats Lou received just for playing a role he was happy to play. Again, they really didn’t care because they knew he wasn’t going to be there after episode six. What a great message for all the bullies…just keep bullying and you’ll get what you want. 
Again, reread OS’s interviews. He was doing the Hollywood double speak. Says just enough to keep you hooked with hope to get you to watch even when he knew all along it wasn’t lasting. It really was as clear as day if you go back and read what he said. 
Also, if you thought Buck was going to get into a meaningful long-term relationship, then you didn’t watch the video from the You Tuber “Call Me Chato” that TM posted on his Facebook. The video was all about characters and how they should always stay fundamentally the same with minimal development - I’m paraphrasing. However, Buck is the golden retriever, heart so big it gets broken, character who will remain on a hamster wheel and unlucky in love because that’s who he is. If he changes too much it shifts the dynamic, which only happens if the show was ending. 
If you thought the writers would do justice to a bisexual story, then you haven’t been watching the show closely. There’s been minimal Buck/Tommy relationship development on screen. Taylor got more. Viewers were lucky to get crumbs in the limited screen time Buck and Tommy got. Then, a breakup out of left field? One minute Buck is saying Tommy is it for him and he wants him to move in, and then it’s over? If he truly felt deeply for Tommy, why not fight to keep him? Why give up so easily and let him walk away? What’s the point? Also, to end it on a terrible stereotype is yet another clue. Horrible writing and another sign that TM and OS had zero investment in the relationship. The whole break up was rushed and made no sense. Essentially, it was just used to draw people in and to get Buck single and sleeping around again because that’s who he is. I for one won’t care for any of Buck’s future relationships. I mean, why would I when they never last. 
Also, writers that give you a 66-year-old police sergeant and a 10 y/o boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA with no prior training, and sorry playing video game flight simulators is not training, is some Sharknado level writing, which is not a compliment. Oh, and that whole story was truly the shows “jumping the shark” moment. If you don’t know what the term “jumping the shark” means, look it up and try to tell me I’m wrong. 
Not having Tommy involved in the three part premier episodes, other than a few minutes at a birthday party, was so obvious as to the show’s intent. I mean, the fake captain from Hotshots got more screen time. 
They claim they wanted someone for Buck that was connected to him and the 118 and then you don’t use the character at all. You wanted Buck off the hamster wheel? What a crock! Such a wasted opportunity.
Since it’s been confirmed episode 6 was filmed before 5, Tim’s just playing god with peoples’ feelings and crushing their hearts at this point. I mean, how do you have such a great episode (5) and a wonderful speech by Josh (6) just to break them up? Plus, having Tommy break up after six months? That man was all in, which was obvious in episode 5.
Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that’s how TM would handle things after that horrible Tarlos breakup. At least on Lone Star we knew Rafa (Carlos) was a main cast member so there was hope. Lou was a guest star so it seems kinda final based on his interviews. Again, what was the point? They could have had Buck's bi revelation be with a random character. So, building up the Buck/Tommy relationship just to take it away was to inflict the most pain. Good job. 
Do I think the show will make Buddie canon? Who knows…one thing I do know is I wouldn’t trust them if they did. Also, even if Tommy somehow returns, I don’t trust TM with anything related to this story. Sure, hope he’s happy with ruining the show for so many people. Again, like another show runner I mentioned in item 4 above. Honestly, I can’t believe the Buddie fans have stayed for so long. That’s commitment, I guess. 
Do I think Lou should go back to 9-1-1? Hell no! He was screwed over by both TM and OS. Prove it to me otherwise. However, it’s up to him and of course, he loves acting so I wouldn’t blame him.
Finally, even though I’ve watched the show since the beginning, it no longer brings me joy. There are too many other TV shows to stick with one I no longer enjoy. So yes, I’m announcing my departure, and I don’t give an F what OS, you, or anyone else thinks about it. Not that any of this matters any way…
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lovegalor333 · 5 hours ago
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˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
woman crush wednesday pt 2 (previous part)
summary: you and paige finally go on the long awaited date
content warnings: none!
It had been three weeks since your first phone call with Paige and since then, it has become a nightly occurrence. Talking and giggling into the early hours until sleep eventually takes over. You have fallen asleep on FaceTime a few times too, waking in the morning to Paige silently getting ready for her day.
You both had busy schedules but they had finally aligned and Paige was coming into the city to see you for the first time. Even though you felt like you knew Paige decently well after hours of calls, you were still nervous. Meeting someone for the first time spiked your fight or flight. What if you wasn’t how Paige had imagined you? What if seeing you in real life made her feel differently?
You settled your nerves with a small glass of wine as you got yourself ready. It was a crisp autumnal evening in New York City and you both had decided on getting a coffee from your favourite place and walking around Central Park would be perfect for your first date.
You and Paige were similar in the sense, you were both really simple girls. You enjoyed being home and didn’t care for the lavish things in life. You were looking forward to just spending time with Paige, talking to her and being able to look in her eyes as she stood in front of you, rather than through a screen.
Paige was getting to your apartment at 5PM and it was almost that time so you applied a final layer of lip balm, a few spritz of your favourite perfume and readied yourself to leave.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket, Paige was here.
Your stomach fluttered as you rode the elevator down, you took in a few deep breaths and checked your reflection in the mirror. You had kept your outfit simple and makeup to a minimum. Paige was used to seeing you on stage or red carpets, you wanted her to see the real you today.
The elevator opened and there she was, in all her glory. She looked even better in person if that was possible, she looked like a goddess through the FaceTime camera but the way her eyes shone and skin glistened while she was just metres away from you had you lost for words. Her hair was down and straight, tucked behind her ears and she was wearing khaki pants with matching trainers and a pink and brown shirt. Why were you already imagining yourself wearing it? It would hang on your body oversized and it would probably smell like her.
“Hello Y/N.” Paige breaks your daydream, a smile spreading on her face as you walk towards her.
“Hi Paige.” You say shyly and she opens her arms for a hug and you step into it so naturally any nerves you had vanish within seconds.
“You look gorgeous.” She complements as you pull apart and you feel your cheeks heat up even though she’s said that every time you’ve been on video call even when your half asleep with messy hair and in your pyjamas.
“Thank you. You look great. I’m not used to seeing you wear a shirt.” You joke as most of the time, Paige calls you post practice and she’s almost always in her sports bra.
“I can take this off but let’s get that coffee first.” She says cheekily and her hand falls to the small of your back as she leads you out of the apartment building.
You and Paige argue over who’s paying for your drinks as the barista watches you both grapple to reach the card reader.
“It was my suggestion. Let me pay.” You state.
“I’m taking you on a date. Let me pay.” Paige quips back.
“But you traveled into the city. Let me.”
“Y/N put the damn card away. I’m paying.” Her voice is assertive and dominant and her arm stretches over you to tap her card.
“Thank you.” You say as you collect the drink, “You’re welcome but never do that again. As long as you’re with me, everythings on me.”
“Paige-“
“No arguememts, gorgeous.”
Yes ma’am.
The walk to Central Park is quick and filled with lighthearted chatter, between you and Paige. She reaches out to touch you multiple times. Her hand grazing your cheek to move a piece of hair, a protective arm around your waist as you cross the road and each time you felt your skin tingle and then a sense of longing once the moment was over.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You say as you find a secluded bench to sit on together. You sit so close, your legs are touching and Paige places a hand on your thigh, “I am too. Sorry it told so long for me to figure out.”
“It’s OK, I know you’re busy. I am too. But what do they say? Distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that.” The last bit comes out of your mouth without you realising.
“Your heart is fond of me?” Paige asks, the corners of her mouth curving up slightly and you feel a blush creeping onto your face.
“I didn’t- I don’t-“ You stutter out, unsure of how it would make Paige feel.
“No. Don’t backtrack. My heart is fond of you too. I wouldn’t spend every night speaking to you or I wouldn’t have drove three hours here if it wasn’t.”
“Really?” You ask, averting your gaze because it felt weird hearing that from someone. You weren’t a relationship girl, in fact you’d only ever been in one relationship and it was so far from perfect, you didn’t think people like Paige existed.
“Yes really, gorgeous.” Paige confirms, lifting your chin so you’re looking at her again.
“I thought maybe I was being too full on. I know people don’t like that.” You say, now looking into her eyes. Her blue, blue eyes.
“I’m not people. I’m Paige and you could never be too full on with me.”
“In that case…my heart is definitely fond of you.” You admit, now mirroring Paiges soft smile.
The air is charged as you sit looking into each others eyes, Paiges hand still firmly rested on your thigh. She glances down and your lips and you glance down at hers. Her tongue pokes out to run across them and your breathing hitches at the way they look, so plump and wet, slightly apart and you begin to lean in as she does the same.
Paiges hand leaves your thigh and finds your neck as your lips meet in a needy but gentle kiss. She pushes into it, her tongue slipping into your mouth and you moan at the sensation. You’ve thought about this moment, dreamed about it so many times but nothing could have prepared you for how it felt. Her fingers tangling into the back of your hair, her soft skin under your fingertips, her scent the only thing you can smell.
You’re both left red cheeked and slightly breathless and you can’t help but giggle at each other and as you do, the heavens open and rain begins to pour. You gasp at the feeling of water already seeping through your clothes and wetting your skin.
“Typical.” Paige laughs and she grabs your hand pulling you up from the bench and you both start running.
“Where are we going?” You ask trying your best to match Paiges strides.
The rain was heavy, already dripping down your face, blurring your vision and you kept a tight grip on Paiges hand hoping that she would lead the way.
“To find shelter…so I can kiss you again.” Paige breathes out and she looks to you, her hair so wet, it looks a few shades darker.
“We’re already drenched.” You say, her shirt is stuck to her skin, outlining her muscular physique and you can feel rain leaking into your shoes with every step you take.
Paige stops running but you can’t stop fast enough so you bump into her and she grabs your waist, balancing you, “You’re right. We are drenched so we might as well stay right here.” She says and she crashes her lips to yours again. It’s hungrier this time, her hand is firm on your waist as the rain batters down on you both, you grip onto her shirt, pulling her closer, wanting more, needing more.
You don’t care that you’re in the middle of Central Park, in the pouring rain. You care that you’re with Paige, finally and it’s better than you ever expected.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
a/n: hi i actually hate this 😖 i didn’t write for a few days while i was moving house and i feel like i’ve forgotten how to…
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nyc-pizza-rat · 3 days ago
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saw @bloodydeanwinchester's tags on this post so
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*TW: SUICIDE IDEATION TYPICALLY DISCUSSED IN RELATION TO THIS EPISODE PLS TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES*
dean's always hated being stabbed. god, he'd have taken a bullet to his head over this any day. what's one last thing that doesn't go his way, he thinks.
it's uncomfortable, is the thing. the hurt, he'll take it. it's nothing he doesn't deserve, nothing he hasn't had before. but the feeling of metal slicing your innards, it's a bitch of a thing. you can never get used to it.
Atleast, he thinks, Sam's here. Atleast, he's able to say goodbye. Atleast he's not alone.
His nerves are all alight, pain painting him bright from the inside, but dean can feel the finality of this burst. it's all too fast and too slow, all at once. dean thinks about being four and the sharp sunlight waking him in his room, his sheets with hot wheels on them. he thinks about baby's headlights shining through thin motel curtains. thinks about....about angels and gods and all that blue light behind his own eyes. he thinks if this is how.. how cas felt, when dean had been stupid and cowardly , when he'd let Lucifer get to him, that night in Washington. he wonders if his soul feels like this too, all sharp angels and live current. he wonders what cas ever saw in him, why he ever tried to save him, even in hell. wishes he could see him, one last time. that wouldn't have been all that terrible.
Still, he thinks. Sam's here. Sam's here. Sam's okay.
he jolts into himself, and realizes that he's been talking, that he's been saying something to sam. he doesn't even know. dean is unraveling. he can feel his body emptying, the slickness of blood at his back.
he grabs at his brother, fists a hand in his chest. Sam's face is twisted in sorrow. Fuck. I love you, little guy, he thinks. then, fuck, don't let me go. i don't want to go. shit's never happened the way he wanted it to, but this is something else. Atleast. well, atleast he's gonna end up in the empty. that's what Billie promised him, right? Atleast he'll be with cas.
Still, Still. he's only human, and he's drowning in his own blood, can smell it, can taste it, it's everywhere, it's —
"I need you to.... to tell me... that it's okay," he says, and his voice comes out trembling, panicked. terrified. God. "I need you to tell me that it's okay."
his brother turns away from him, and dean can't hear him over the ringing in his ears, but he knows the stubborn bastard, the way his shoulders lift. God. God. Cas.
"Look at me," he pleads. "I need... I need..." he can't breathe. god, he can't breathe. "Please, Sam. I need you to tell me that it's okay."
Sam's face swims to the front of his line of sight, all warped like it's on the other side of a fishbowl. dean clutches at his brother harder. tries to, anyway. he's so tired. he's so fucking tired.
his fingers slip.
Something warm, and sam holds him in place.
"Dean...," and in another world, dean would've made fun of the blubbering mess he's become. would've teased him for caring so much about his stupid older brother. "it's okay. It's okay. i— I got you."
it's crazy, dean thinks, that it helps. the tone of his brother's voice. his face, even warped and cracking open with grief. dean raised this kid, and it was a bitch of a job, and man, did he hate it at times, but look at sam now. he did good. he did so good. he did —
dean goes under like he's being put to sleep. almost easy, almost soft. Thanks, he thinks, the last coherent thought in his head. Thanks, kid.
~
He wakes up on a road. The sun shines down bright like it's the start of summer, and there's this pleasant warmth in the air. the world around him is golden, stretching into the horizon on flat land where it meets the brown mounds of the black hills. dean blinks up at the mountains, a strange chill crawling down his spine.
"You're here early," a familiar voice says, and dean turns to find himself standing in front of Bobby's porch. light's drenched this whole place, too, making the wood panelling look blond. Bobby's fucking smiling. Shit. Shit.
dean's starting to feel disoriented, almost.
"And what's 'here' supposed to be, exactly?"
Bobby frowns, his smile slipping. he looks at dean like he's a right fool. "Heaven, dean," he says. "where else'd you think you'd go?"
dean thought.... Fuck. there's a strange emptiness pushing at the inside of dean's skin. he feels like he's been put together upside down. Billie.... Billie....
Billie's in the empty, and fuck. maybe grudges don't get passed down to the new death. fuck. fuck.
Dean stumbles to the porch steps, crumples on them when he can't go further. Absently, he's aware of Bobby moving behind him, the creaking of his rocking chair, his footsteps on the wood.
he stares out at the grass, the outline of the mountains, the clear blue sky. it's beautiful. it's nothing. it's empty. fuck. fuck. what the hell is dean supposed to do now. without — what the hell is he supposed to do?!
Bobby's hand is warm on his shoulder. dean feels small, the way he leans into it, the way he kinda wants to cry.
"what's wrong, dean?" Bobby asks, and his voice is all wrong , like he's tried to scrape the gruffness out of it and badly. dean could laugh. but. fuck. fuck.
why the hell is he here? why is he here?!
he swallows. shit's never really gone his way in life, so why would it in death? he swallows again. says, "i don't know, Bobby."
Me, he thinks. I'm what's wrong.
"i don't know."
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