#i just love them so so much. i need to visit more

[will-0-w]

Sticky Situation

Summary: After your relationship with Sylus has reached a more shared bond, he allows you to visit him anytime in the N109 Zone, even giving you a spare key to his home. So what happens when you turn up unexpectedly after his mission had gone slightly against his favours and an aphrodisiac was slipped into his drink? One night will change it all between you two.

Warnings: smut! 18+ mdni, male masturbation, unprotected pinv, desperate and needy Sylus, aphrodisiacs, pet names, he is lowkey feral, face sitting, riding, lowkey this whole thing feels like word vomit, word count: 1.6k, not proof read

author’s note: apologies for the super late post on this fic, motivation has been down the drain lately and i wrote this while half awake :’) but i hope you lovelies enjoy<3

Sylus was at yet, another boring weapons auction but this time he had decided to go alone on a mission to retrieve a pair of black market revolvers for his ever growing collection back home. The whole auction was smooth sailing from the moment he entered the place. What seemed like endless hours of conversations and mingling was only three hours. And also the point where it all began to go downhill for him.

That exact point was where Sylus had taken some time to check out the bar, nursing some bourbon. His guard was slightly down, a mistake he only realised later when an old time friend had approached him for a long overdue conversation. In fact his guard was lowered so much during that conversation, glass abandoned on the counter that he failed to notice the shady man slowly moving unto his location.

The man had left a respectable amount of distance between himself and Sylus, swiftly and discreetly pouring something into his drink and disappearing as quickly as he had previously arrived.

Which is how he had ended up stumbling through his bedroom door an hour later, his skin on fire, flushed and warm. His dark, crimson eyes glowing more intensely than usual, pupils dilated. Sylus fumbled with his tie, grasping at it, pulling at it until it finally came off. The first few buttons undone on his shirt as he collapsed onto the silk sheets of the large bed. A primal need for release was rooted into his veins and he cursed himself for being so careless at the auction.

Sylus’s breathing was heavy and laboured with each intake of air he took, chest rising and falling rapidly. After a couple seconds of toying with his belt and zipper he managed to undo them and slip his trousers, along with his boxers down just enough to free his aching, hard cock. Pre cum already oozing down from his tip and down the pulsating length, trailing along a deliciously prominent vein.

Griping the base of his length with his large hand, the warmth from his palm felt like a heater against the skin. Slowly, he began to jerk himself, hand squeezing his cock-head every time his hand went up causing him to pant and groan shamelessly like some animal in heat, which is how he felt right now. With his head thrown back against the headboard, eyes squeezed tightly shut continuing his ministrations. His hips lifting occasionally to match the pace of his hand.

So lost in pleasure and failing to notice your presence standing by the doorway, Sylus let out more moans which bordered on pornographic. You were frozen on the spot, eyes drinking in the sight of him. The room suddenly felt so hot and your throat was as dry as a desert, heat started in pool in your lower belly and you subconsciously squeezed your thighs together. A soft plea of your name fell from his lips, so tantalising and sinful making the apples of your cheeks warm up and flush a soft pink.

As if right on cue, Sylus’s gaze fell upon you and everything in his brain was screaming at him to half his actions but nothing could bring him to stop. Sure, your unexpected drop in was a surprise but the raw and primal need coursing through his entire being was consuming every moral thought. His mind was fuzzy, a complete blur and then—there was you. Looking like a deer caught in headlights and he thought how cute you looked, so flushed, fiddling with your hands, trying to avert his hot gaze.

“Kitten, I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” He all but purred that sentence causing you to stutter slightly.

Clearing your throat, “Luke and Kieran had informed me that you were at an auction today.” That simple statement earned a soft hum followed by a nod from Sylus. “So you thought you could just drop by? Perhaps snoop through my things?” He was teasing you, obviously enjoying the reactions that he could get out of you.

Before you could even reply Sylus had risen from the bed and swiftly made his way over to you, moving like a panther stalking its prey. Once in front of you, you could now very clearly see that his breathing was heavy and laboured, skin flushed and emanating warmth. “Well anyways how did the auction go?”

“Swimmingly.” He all but scoffed, red eyes piercing into your very soul. As you reached a hand to inspect his forehead Sylus flinched slightly and let out a soft hiss. “Are you ill? Did you catch something while you were gone?” The concern was evident in your tone, expression softening .

“Does it look like I’m ill, sweetie?” Sylus still managed to keep up his smug facade even while going through the effects of the aphrodisiac. “Well you just look—“

Your words were cut short as he leaned forward, caging you in against the now closed door of the bedroom. It was like something snapped within him as your perfume filled his nose, the scent so intoxicating and strong. “mm, your scent..i want it, i want you..” Sylus nuzzled his face into the softness of your neck.

‘He’s clearly lost it.’ You thought to yourself, begrudgingly.

“We should get you to bed, you need to sleep this off.” You mumbled against his ear as his warm breath fanned against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“No.” Was the response that immediately followed.

Sylus' hands found yours, pinning them up against the wall on either side of your head. He pressed down against you, his body moulding against yours. You could feel the hard lines and unyielding planes of his lean physique, the heat of his skin against yours setting your body aflame. "I don't want to sleep," he whispered into your ear, his voice a ragged murmur. Trying to talk some sense into him was practically impossible at this moment, his mind clouded with only the thoughts of your body against his.

That’s how you both ended up on his bed in a tangle of limbs, clawing off each other’s clothes desperately. Lips attached with one another in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues. Easily gripping your hips, fingers digging eagerly into your skin as Sylus manoeuvred you onto his lap above his aching member, begging to be buried inside your warm walls.

As the kiss broke a single strand of saliva that connected your mouths was enough evidence of the atmosphere and tension between the both of you. As you straddled his lap, hovering just above the leaking tip you slowly eased yourself down his impressively large length, greedy pussy sucking him in just begging for more.

A soft, breathy andbarely audible “fuuuckk” fell from his soft, plump lips. His head falling back against the headboard as you settled comfortably down on his lap, his cock snuggly buried inside your wet cunt. You stayed like that for a few moments, hands resting against his broad shoulders. The way he looked at you almost made you shy away, Sylus’s gaze was full of desire and need, the need for you to start moving as he was slowly loosing sanity.

The moment your hips started to move, rising and falling again and again was the moment Sylus finally lost himself. Down right pornographic moans spilling from his mouth with absolutely no shame whatsoever. Large hands roaming your body as he reached the mounds of your breasts, giving them a firm squeeze and occasionally pinching the hardened buds causing a few mewls of your own to slip out.

As you continued bouncing on his cock, Sylus felt like he was on cloud nine. Leaning forward he captured one of your nipples in his mouth, warm and wet. Tongue circling, teeth scraping against the sensitive bud which encouraged you to move faster, to chase that high you both so dearly ached for. With a couple more sloppy movements and occasional jerky snaps of Sylus’s hips, you felt the impending waves of your orgasm crash over you, eyes rolling back and mouth falling into an ‘O’ shape as you came down. The feel of your juices gushing and coating his length was enough for Sylus to also let go, warm ropes of his sticky cum shooting up into your pussy.

The effects of the aphrodisiac had seemed to lessen but Sylus wasn’t fully satisfied yet. And just as you were about to collapse against his solid, comforting chest Sylus had other plans in mind and swiftly lifted you off of his softening cock, pulling you up near his face as he laid back. “Sylus.. what are you doing? I’m still—“

“I know sweetie, but just let me clean you up, yeah?” Seeming as you didn’t protest any further he managed to make you hover above his face, your pussy all on display for him.

“Wait Sylus are you sure that—“ You moaned softly as your pussy made contact with his tongue, hands reaching down to tangle in his silky strands of hair. His tongue was merciless as it lapped up your shared release, the taste of himself filled his mouth causing a soft groan sending small vibrations to your core.

You were so overstimulated and felt another wave of release crashing over you, releasing that sweet nectar for Sylus to greedily lap up, not daring to waste a drop. With a final suck, he let you collapse next to him on the sheets. Your body was so sore and tired as you curled up against him.

As gently and softly as he could, Sylus brought the covers up to shield both your bodies, wrapping his strong arms in a protective embrace. Slumber taking over your minds.

taglist: @whimsiecat @luxmere @madam8 @fava-boi @sylus-crow @ikesimpleton @coldhologramcrown @holdmyravioli @babygirl-panda19 @mianeryh @sinsodom @caramelizedpopcirn @ineffableperception @amywright @chillycheem @lowkeyabby2229 @goddexxluv @alyyylog @depressedbearblogs @for-hearthand-home

unfortunately it wouldn’t let me tag some of you, so apologies for that!

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[hanafubukki]

Can be seen as a continuation for this fic and this one.

Riddle never thought he would be the type of father who would show off photos of his child to his colleagues when given the chance. If someone from Heartslabyul were the type to proudly show off pictures, most would guess Cater or Deuce, or even Trey. It doesn’t take much for Riddle to take out his phone or his wallet where he kept them.

The ones on his phone ranged from cute and proper photos to those taken candidly, angled and blurred in some and others of a face too close to the camera or only of a wide smile seen.

The ones in his wallet weren’t much different. Some were crisp-cut photos, freshly printed. While others are worn with age and many folds and some with cute stickers and decor.

If one were to visit his home, they would see a house filled with frames; of smiles tender and sweet.

Riddle kept every photo ever taken.

He wanted to blame you for the mess in the kitchen caused from baking, but Riddle knew he was just as guilty.

Flour settled on the counter after floating in the air from being flickered at each other.

Giggles heard as the little one drew smiles on the counter from where they stood on the stool.

He blew at the stray strands stuck to his face that were now coated in white.

Smiling at the squeal as he picked up his child and placed them on the counter. He placed the bowl on the little one’s lap and covered their hand with his.

This mess will need to be cleaned up later.

For now, the strawberry tart took precedence.

He lightly nudged you away with his hip and scrunched his nose at you when you asked if he wanted the oyster sauce.

Riddle would watch whenever his mother visited.

His relationship with her was cordial at best.

He respected her for her achievements, but even he knew she wasn’t the mother of the year.

She would make comments about his little one’s studies and development in magic. How they should have their unique magic by now.

Riddle maintained his child would develop it in their own time. Every child’s milestone is different and he felt no need to push his.

It was always a tense affair with her. More of a formal meeting with a boss than meeting a parent.

But she treated her grandchild well enough and with no incidents, he made sure of it.

If one were to ask him what his favorite time of the day was, he would reply nighttime.

Riddle loves reading books. He loves it even more when he reads to his little one.

Reclining on a softly worn leather chair, a blanket wrapped around him and his child as they read a book.

Riddle would let them pick a book and he would read to them. His child would join in at times or question a passage he didn’t understand. He would patiently explain it every time. He would wait as they would try to pronounce a word and gently correct them at times.

He loved to watch as his little one would yawn and curl into him as the activity of the day got to them. His voice would gradually quieten as their breathing deepened.

He would pick them up and carry them to their room. Too old to sleep in his bed but he made sure to tell them they’re always welcome to come in, his door unlocked for them always.

Riddle tucks them into bed, laying a kiss on their head, before leaving.

He joins you in bed.

His world is at peace.

Been in a Riddle feels lately, and then the newest JP twst update came for my throat and inspired this. Riddle doing everything he ever wanted with his family. 🥹💞💚 Never denying his child that love and comfort. He’s at peace 💞🥰🥹

Ngl I debated about Mrs. Rosehearts and her role in his life, and I think I like how I portrayed it here. Despite everything he went through, he still respect her and her achievements. Feelings and relationships are complex after all. But, I also believe he wouldn’t allow history to repeat itself with his child. 🥺🫶

I also thought of the whole parents who are strict becoming less so with grandchildren route but…honestly, that always irked me and gives me mixed feelings. Even irl, it’s like?? You put your child through so much? And suddenly think everything is okay? Or can be changed because you’re older? What about the hurt you caused?

Besides, I see Mrs. Rosehearts stubborn even in her old age lolol 🤣😆

I hope you enjoyed the fic 💞💚 I was probably a bit too telling with my notes but…it’s okay, I feel most of us Riddle fans have similar experiences and can relate to these emotions. 🙏🥺

[more-mara]

NO WAIT please talk more about WAG!Carlos because I actually REALLY LOVE WAG!Carlos and it's been on my mind for a long time and I felt like I'm alone in this. I really like the established relationship idea of Oscar looking mighty walking alone in the paddock, but once Carlos is there, walking alongside Oscar and holding his hand, everyone can see who's the dom and who's the babygirl 😂 not that dom dom but like who tops and bottoms.

In my mind Carlos is a man in finance or consulting. Because, damn, everytime I picture him in fitted shirts and dark coloured slacks my mind goes brrr. They share an apartment in London and Oscar always goes back home after races to him. Carlos visits Oscar for races everytime he can (but he always makes time for Silverstone), and everytime he visits, the journalists and social media literally go very crazy about "Piastri's very hot, sculpted by the God himself, Spanish boyfriend". Oh and Oscar claiming the Spain GP as his home race because "my partner is Spanish and he lives and breathes Real Madrid and I'm very sure I'll marry him so".

I can't picture of the announcement of Oscar coming out, but I think I like the idea of soft launching first through his instagram or maybe Estrella Galicia makes Oscar and Lando talk Spanish slangs and Oscar aces all the questions and be like "My boyfriend is Spanish and he likes to teach me Spanish terms" something like that. Then boom Carlos coming to a race with him.

Eventhough Carlos is the one who tops and is very good in bed, but him also being soft and fluffy and calls Oscar with pet names in Spanish (tesoro, cariño, mi amor, etc) and cooks for him everytime Oscar's back home.

I can picture Oscar on break, dumping holiday pictures on his instagram and everyone goes crazy of Carlos shirtless and flaunting his abs and his super fit body in one (or many) of the pictures. Carlos having his instagram private and everyone will be asking Oscar to let his boyfriend open his instagram for public lol.

I'm going to stop because if I continue, I'll literally dump my thoughts (including the NSFW ones) and this ask will be very long lol thank you for reading my rants!

Oh, you’ve been THINKING about this lol. Anon I love this please continue. Side note, I had written an entire response to this once already but tumblr deleted it 🤡 I can’t remember half the shit I originally said but here we go lmao

I 100% see the man in finance vibes I just wanted to go against the grain and say something else lol but I absolutely imagine him in some white collar job. He constantly wears tailored suits, even in hot weather which Oscar will complain to no end about but ultimately it won’t change Carlos’ mind because it’s his brand.

Oscar gets a little irked by it because he’s supposed to be the celebrity, yet he give off so much just a guy energy when he’s walking hand in hand with Carlos. Oscar highkey loves the attention which is why it bothers him so much when Carlos steals it from him.

In comes the Spanish gp and Carlos is in yet another equivalent price of a mortgage suit. Osc saying it’s “basically my home gp now, I guess,” with a giggle as he eyes the screen where Carlos is clapping and smirking when he notices the attention on him- sending a little wink towards the camera that has Oscar stumbling over his words.

The media always goads Oscar for being “the girlfriend” in the relationship (let’s be real, media love to heteroify queer relationships and would 100% do it to them) but it’s always water off Oscar’s back as he redirects the conversation to how sexy and successful his boyfie is, “He’s just bought a new property in New York 🙂,”

Regarding coming out, Oscar is absolutely of the “I don’t need to come out, I’m just gonna live my life,” stance. He probably drops a “my partner is opening a new business back in London, he’d definitely know better than me if that’s a good idea,” when an interviewer asks about whether he’d buy a house in Monaco. Twitter goes crazy “DID OSCAR JUST SAY HE???!!” and that’s that, now Carlos shows up everywhere he can to show off who Oscar managed to pull.

Oscar loves the pet names but can’t stand it when Carlos uses them in public- goes beet red when Carlos calls him ‘mi amor’ when speaking with a journalist.

NSFW because I can’t help myself- Carlos always refuses to fuck Oscar on a race weekend because “I cannot affect your performance,” and Oscar fucking hates it. Oscar is lowkey needy in bed and can be a little insatiable at times, especially during a stressful week (e.g. a race week) so he goes out of his way to tease Carlos every chance he gets- even in public to see how long it will take for Carlos to snap. Except Carlos never does and remains firm in his stance which Oscar whines and complains about constantly until Sunday night when Carlos finally touches him and fucks the weeks brattiness out of him

Side note, Carlos is good in bed, like- really good, to the point where Oscar can’t even think about anything except for Carlos’ insane dick game. Carlos is experienced in so many ways that Oscar gets insanely jealous every time he thinks about it- getting angry at the thought of Carlos fucking anyone besides him. It’s a funny contrast because Oscar was basically celibate when he and Carlos first met and their first time in bed had Oscar experiencing pleasures he never though possible.

And yeah, Oscar just fully posting thirst traps of Carlos to make everyone jealous that only he gets to see it on a daily basis.

[sugarbbgrl]

biker!141 are big, mean looking men. they’ve done things the average human could never even begin to imagine. they answer to no one but themselves.

but when it came to you, these fearsome men caved almost instantly.

“what’s a pretty girl like you working at a place like this?” the man with dark hair and muttonchops, the name ‘price’ patched into his cut. “you don’t seem like the type to want to interact with sweaty men all night.”

“oh is that right?” you snort, wiping down a few of the freshly cleaned glasses. “and what type of girl do i seem like?”

“you belong in a museum,” the man with a a faux hawk and scottish accent begins, presumably ‘soap’ from his dingy patch. “you’re quite the sight for sore eyes, lass.”

you shake your head with a bright smile, the attention being solely on you at this point isn’t necessarily a bad thing; you’ve got nothing better to do.

“right you are, soap, i could look at you all day." the boyish one, 'gaz', rests his chin in his palm.

"although the flattery is much appreciated, i still have a job to do." you lean over the counter. "what'll it be, boys?"

"you, of course." price winks at you, resting his forearms against the bar. "but i guess i'll have to settle for the next best thing: a pint of your finest."

while pouring their drinks, the one who hides behind a skull balaclava, 'ghost', speaks up. "you never answered the question, love. what's with being a bar maid?"

"well, if you must know," you slide the full glasses toward the men. "i run the place. it pays the bills and i meet interesting characters to fill my time."

"love me a working woman. when we getting married?" soap asks after skulling his drink. you smile and shake your head, taking the empty glass from him.

"need a ring first, hon."

the weeks following the first interaction, they'd made it apparent they were making this their new hangout. they'd bring you all sorts of gifts: namely homemade meals from gaz, a new cut from price with the word 'birdie' patched on, a golden necklace with a small motorcycle pendant from soap, and an assortment of flowers from ghost.

"i know it's not a ring, but you seem more like a necklace girl if i do say so myself." soap pointed to his gift hanging from your neck as you put ghost's flowers in a vase.

"very observant, soap. gold star for you." you pour them their usuals, sliding their glasses to them.

"didn't know what flowers were your favorite so just got the ones that reminded me of your beauty." ghost grunts, a small smile seen under the mask.

"yeah, and i didn't know what you like to eat, made some simple spaghetti because who doesn't like spaghetti?" gaz eyed the tupperware container you set in the mini fridge behind you.

"you four are too much, y'know that?" you snickered and shook your head, shrugging on the leather cut.

"ay, but who wouldn't want the spoils, birdie?" price winked at you, admiring his gift fitted on you.

the most important thing was you felt safe around them. they'd take time out of their visit to escort a rowdy patron, taking their place as your own personal bodyguards. they made sure no one messed with their old lady, most would be too scared to try just by the sight of the four big men surrounding you.

idk how much i like this but i haven't written in a while and had this drafted for a bit. enjoy babes!

[sunrisecaminus]

Hi I hope you having a wonderful day

May I request some sfw optimus x reader?

Message - I am having a great day actually! Also of course! Got to love the Prime once in a great while! I didn't know what to put as a story so I just made the human have a job.

Optimus x Mechanic Reader SFW

Summary - Optimus having a cute hang out at the human's store!

Warning - Very adorable!

Type of fic - Fluff

You have never had to fix so many vehicles before, until you met the Autobots. You never wanted to tell them, but Cybertronian anatomy was actually easy to learn to help Ratchet with the minor injuries these idiots get from missions. You own your very own Mechanic shop and the bots just make it less boring when they come to visit. Optimus was very respectful to you and rarely visits, but after some deep discussions you both have with each other, he will come by to see you a lot more now a days.

Right now you are giving an oil change for someone when you see from the corner of your eye the red, white and blue truck pulling up. The smile that grew on your face said it all and you finished the guys truck, got paid, and let him leave your garage. Walking outside with your o/c overalls (overall color), you pat the front of the hood and greet your big truck friend. "Hi big guy! What you in for?" You wait patiently as he transforms and looks around. "Hello y/n. I came to drop off some parts for your work. Agent Fowler said it's for Bumblebee when he comes in."

You have lifted so much weight off Ratchet's back by giving the mechs their own check ups and basic plating care routines. You have noticed that you haven't given Optimus a full check yet, but you figured it was because the man was very private about his body. You heard from a lot of his friends that he rarely likes to be touched and they blame it on him being a Prime. It didn't matter to you though, you just wanted him to feel comfortable around his new environments and relax. "Well why don't you come in? I closed for the night so no one is coming around anytime soon." Your shop close really late and it's in the middle of no where. Just outside of Jasper was just your mechanic shop, a mini gas station, and the desert. You liked how peaceful it was here, and the autobot base is actually close by, so anytime the kids need a place to stay they could always come to you for a sleep over. You lived in the back of your shop, but you didn't mind. It was like a cozy apartment inside your home with a tv, kitchen, bedroom, and your own bathroom so you didn't need to use the shops public restroom. It wasn't much, but the quiet nature of it made it feel like a luxury to you. Anyway Optimus walks over and sits just outside of the garage as you pull up a chair and grab your microwaved dinner. "So, any new stories you need to tell me? How are the kids?"

You both talk for what seemed like hours. It was so nice to get to be with him again, but what you didn't know is he felt the same way about you. You listened to everything he said and gave such good advice. What he loved most about humans was their empathy, and you had a lot of it. You played a lot of music with your vintage record player and he loved to just close his eyes and listen to the sweet music…made him forget about the war for a few hours. You NEVER talked about the war with him, unless he talked about it first. Being the person you were, you never wanted to talk to someone about deep things unless they initiated it first, a lot of people find dark topics to be uncomfortable to talk about and you knew Optimus was an awkward person. "Hey, thanks for the shipment. Speaking of, I have some new tires for you if you ever wanted to get some new ones yourself. Treat yourself and get something good once in a while to make you feel better." You eat your food, waiting for an answer as he got quiet to think about it. "I don't want to bother you about it y/n. It's very late." He spoke to you like he was such a nuisance. You wanted to change that ever since this man met you. Standing up, you grab your tool box and throw your empty container into the trash. "Transform and come on in, I can hook you up with some good classic black tires! Nothing flashy I promise."

He obeyed and did just that, transforming, and driving inside your garage. He has never done this before, so he may be a little nervous doing this with a human mechanic. It's not that he didn't trust you personally, he was just worried a human wouldn't know how to change Cybertronian tires. What Optimus didn't know, was that you have been taking classes from Ratchet and reading books in translation to help yourself understand how to do everything. You already practice changing tired on Bumblebee and Arcee, so this was going to be a piece of cake for you. Opening the tool box you walk over and hook him onto the big machine. He didn't know what it was for at first until his entire body gets lifted a few feet off the ground. "Are you sure this will hold?" You chuckle from how anxious he was and pat his bumper. "You'll be fine I promise, Fowler hooked me up with some expensive tech so this baby can hold a plane." You put on gloves and start to get to work.

After about two hours, you clean off the last tire and lower him to the ground. He was a big mech so you made sure you lowered him slowly and you see the tires pressing against the shops floors. "Aaaaaand we are done! Now I already sprayed them and put some air in them so you won't have to come back for another check up in-" You interrupt yourself when you heard nothing coming out of him. You could sense that he wasn't listening so you press your hand on his door. "Hey, you ok? Optimus?" That was when you heard a soft noise coming out of his engine…he was asleep. You smiled from the cute moment that is happening right now and you grab a tarp from the back. It was a nice giant blue tarp that is used to protect vehicles from weather conditions as you draped it over his entire body. Going inside the kitchen, you make yourself a cup of hot chocolate as you go back outside into the garage to sit yourself by the desk you have. You take a sip of the mug and place it on the table, grabbing a pen to start drawing for your next blueprint idea. You look back at the sleeping prime that was in your garage. "Sweet dreams Optimus…love you." You go back to work as what you don't see is him flustered on the inside. He woke up when you gave him the blanket…and now he plans to visit you everyday from now on.

[the-owl-tree]

Please tell me about Foxtrot!!!

I briefly mentioned Fogstep and Ozzy here, but some more on them:

Fogstep and Bearstar, then apprentices, grew up in an interesting time for MustangClan. The Clan was living in an era of prosperity and honor, having not only 'won' against CoyoteClan, but also using that massive win to strong arm other Clans into doing as they needed.

A lot of the Clan was itching to show off, to gain another victory.

The town fire gave them just that, burning the nearby Clan's territories and causing tension to heighten rapidly as the other Clans were forced to either expand or shrink their territory to account for the damaged woods. Not to mention, the amount of town cats fleeing the damage.

Fogstep and Bearclaw were Warriors during what many would remark as MustangClan's true show of resilience, though nearby have fond memories from the era. It was brutal and bloody, both worked harder and harder as Bearclaw went into battle after battle and Fogstep had more patients than she could help.

She'd often 'run away' for periods of time to escape the stress, something that hurt her social standing, but gave her a necessary break. It was on one of these escapades that she met Ozzy and stayed with him in town, getting to know the cats there.

From there, their relationship flourished and, well...Foxkit happened.

They initially debated on where to keep her, with Ozzy not wanting her to grow up in MustangClan's batlte-hungry environment but also not having the resources to care for a kitten in the town. They briefly considered Fogstep moving in with him or him going with her, but neither really wanted to leave their homes.

So they opted to compromise: Fogstep would raise Foxkit in MustangClan where she'd be given safety and food, but also be allowed to visit him in the town. When she was older, she could decide where she wanted to live.

MustangClan doesn't have any rules against Medic's having kits, the main concern Fogstep had was them having issues with the father. She opted to keep it quiet, though Bearstar did find out after catching them once. He keeps it a secret for his old friend but quietly disapproves.

More on Foxtrot:

Mischievous and sneaky, she, much like her father, is very set in her ways. If she doesn't want to do something, she won't do it. This made her warrior training absolute agony for her old mentor, who would just straight up lose her whenever she snuck off to find something that appealed to her.

She trained with Duskpaw and Branchpaw before switching, and did miss getting to be with her friends during lessons. The three of them would get really excited when Foxpaw would rejoin them for the occasional battle training.

Growing up visiting the town and often hanging out there for days at a time, Foxtrot doesn't hold much interest in maintaining MustangClan values of battle and honor. She doesn't want pointless battles, even if the glory of victory makes her Clanmates happy.

She's faked a few omens to get her Clan out of a potential fight, usually when the herb store is running low and no one will listen when Fogstep is telling them they shouldn't do it. Duskclaw catches her the first time she does it and sternly tells her not to do it again (Foxtrot then proceeds to just get sneakier at it).

Met her older half-sisters as an apprentice and bonded with 'em real quick. Marble is the eldest of them all and one of the defenders of the town while Hijinks is considered a troublemaker.

She meets Blightspirit while out herb gathering, curiously entering a cave to find a starving, matted flea-ridden mop of a cat who hasn't moved in ages. Taking pity on what she thinks is a senile old cat on their deathbed, she's surprised to find out he's only a little older than her.

Keeps visiting out of curiosity, the two of them have a shared love of history and she helps him learn the true story of the fire and the Clans that live at the bottom of the mountains. Once he trusts her, he opens up about TempestClan and their beliefs. Doesn't tell her who he is or who he was until one night when they're stargazing together.

She finds him cute, if a little annoying in how negative he can be. She manages to get him to cut the self-loathing a little with some sharp comments.

When he approaches her to help take down TempestClan, she agrees. While she can't get all of the MustangClan cats to help, she gathers a small group to help aid Wolf's rebellion.

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter 6: Pink Camellias - Longing For You

Summary: Andy stops by on a particularly stressful day, and a different favorite customer gives you a bit of a rude awakening.

Word Count: 2442

Author's Note: Hey my lovelies! Thank you all so much for the positive feedback I've received from so many of you since the last chapter. Enjoy this chapter, this one and the next one are going to be on the shorter side to prepare for an upcoming behemoth i have planned ;)

tag list: @celery-grace @gayandfairycore @deathmybride @harry-bowie-mercury @hodgepodge-musings @blue-eyed-bug @secretttytttttttttt @dinner-n-dxatribes @wub-wub-wub-wub-wub @padfootblackswh0r3 @axel-the-boy-witch

fic under the cut <3

So far, your day was terrible, which meant it was on par with the rest of your week.

Everything you had detailed on that late night phone call to Andy a few weeks ago had only gotten worse. The date for foreclosure was slowly approaching, your debt nearly canceled out by the sheer amount of customers you were getting recently. You could only imagine it had just become an online trend to… be nice to your partner? Whatever the incentive was, it was helping out the business, but not so much your wallet.

You often brought your frustrations to Andy, and he was so supportive it made your heart ache. Even though he’d explicitly stated often that it was completely fine for you to vent to him like this, you apologized profusely every time. This is how talking to him would start, though after a few minutes they diverged to a million other topics.

This was exactly the kind of conversation you were planning on having when he visited you today. And you couldn't wait. A countdown of the seconds until he walked in was playing in your brain.

One, two, three.

You needed the break from your life that talking to Andy offered you.

_Four, five, six._

You craved the stability, how even if your life was crumbling before you, you would always be able to find him in the rubble.

Seven, eight, nine.

He wasn't your sole motivator to keep going, but he definitely helped.

Ten—

"Hey there.”

Uncharacteristically perfect timing.

You pulled your attention away from the clock on the wall to catch your first glimpse of him for the day. For the first time since you’d met him, he was wearing a hat, a black baseball cap with some logo on it you didn't recognize. His hair was tied back into a bun. Though he had his attempts at being stylish from time to time, today was not one of them, his zip-up hoodie and jeans making it evident that today was not a day where he felt like trying. Maybe he was having as crappy of a day as you were. Just in case he was, you greeted him with more enthusiasm in your voice than usual.

“Hi! How's it going?”

“Pretty alright, actually,” he started, before continuing his sentence with a question that seemed to give you a headache simply by hearing it. “How are you?”

You sighed before you spoke, grimacing just at the thought of your emotions.

“I am so stressed that talking about how stressed I am will only make me more stressed. I need a change of pace. And topic.”

He picked up what you were putting down immediately, something that had become almost like second nature to him. A good distraction.

“There was something I’ve been meaning to ask you, now that you've reminded me.”

Oh no.

The thoughts of what he could possibly have to ask you began to cloud your mind, and some of the various possibilities made your heart beat much faster than it should. When he started so say something again, there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. Unusual for you, since you’d grown so accustomed to him being more confident in your presence, but you let him speak.

“So… ehm… my birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks. To celebrate, some of my friends and I are gonna go to the pub and I was wondering if you'd like to come along.”

To say you were relieved was an understatement. The wide smile on your face was an answer in itself, but you responded anyway.

“Andy, I’d love to.”

“Great! Grand. I’ll mark you down as saying ‘yes’.”

“There’s no way I’d say no. Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

A smile, almost the same as your own, grew on his lips.

“By the way, this will be a genuine get-together. You’ll get to meet some of my other friends, as well.”

You feigned shock.

“So it's not just me and this Alex fellow you talk about?”

“No. Contrary to popular belief, I do have more than just two friends.”

You both let out your own laughs, almost in unison with one another. To be joking around with someone you trusted and kept so close… for a moment, it helped you believe everything was alright.

“I’m excited to celebrate with everyone,” you said, sincerity returning to your tone. “Get ready for a present for the ages. For the history books, even.”

He shook his head in denial, stopping your excitement in its tracks.

“Y/N, you don't have to get me anything . I’m a grown man, I’ll live if I don't get a birthday present.”

“Well, I’m a grown woman and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't get you anything. So let me-”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of the bell above the door ringing.

You peeked behind him at who had just walked in. You had to look down to meet her gaze, and when you realized you recognized her weathered face, you smiled.

“Violet! Great to see you! I’ll be right with you.”

Andy tilted his head at your exclamation.

“Violet?”

“Remember when I said you were tied for the title of my favorite customer with a little old lady? I wasn't joking. Meet your competitor.”

You watched as he looked over his shoulder, his head turning to be met with a small, older woman with gray hair and possibly the warmest smile you’d ever seen. Clutching onto purse with one hand like her life depended on it, she gave him a small wave.

“I think I’ll shut myself up for now. You have actual clients to get to.”

“Alright. I’ll come by your work tomorrow. Oh, and about your birthday. Just text me the time and the address and I’ll be there. With an amazing present because you can't stop me.”

A small smile, the kind that barely showed his teeth, spread across his face.

“Thank you. I will see you then.”

He waved goodbye, and you could’ve sworn you saw ink smudged on the side of his hands.

Both of you watched as he left, though with different intentions behind your gazes. You pulled your eyes away when he left, almost afraid to keep your gaze on him. Violet's eyes, however, seemed to linger, from shock more than anything else. Once he was out of both of your fields of vision, you returned to facing each other.

Violet had become part of your routine, and you slowly became part of each other's lives. Every time she came in, she talked to you about anything on her mind. Yet for the chatterbox that she was, she managed to be an enigma for you. She came in monthly, on the first day of the month, always ordering flowers as a centerpiece for when her “group of ladies” came around. You couldn't tell if she was in a book club or a coven, but neither answer would surprise you. In as sweet a tone as ever, she initiated your conversation.

“I’ve been here a thousand times, but I don't think I’ve ever seen that man before. Who was that?”

“Oh, that's Andy. He's my…”

You couldn't quite find the words to complete that sentence. Andy was your friend, obviously, but the word felt so odd, almost bitter on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it. To save yourself any pain, you tiptoed around it.

“He works at the tattoo parlor a few blocks away. He visits me sometimes.”

“He seems like such a sweet young man.”

“He is! He really is.” You nodded.

Violet, despite her years of living and likely unlimited wisdom, found nothing wrong with her next sentence.

“I don't mean to pry, but I had no idea you were dating someone! How long have you two been together?"

Your eyes widened so much you were afraid they would pop out of your skull. What in the world could have made her ask that? Why did your palms get so clammy? Had someone turned up the heat?

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “No, no, no. Andrew and I… we aren't dating. We're just friends.”

The older woman raised a quizzical brow, as if she didn't believe you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Violet. I’d know if I was in a relationship.”

“Then, is he sure?”

“He's sure. too. We're not dating. We're friends. Friends.”

Were you trying to convince her or yourself?

She shook her head, accompanied by a tsk, tsk, tsk.

“What is it?”

“Dear, I’ve been around for… I’m not even sure how many years. I know a look filled with love when I see it. And the way that boy looks at you is the same look I’ve seen in loves that last lifetimes. It's the same look my wife gives me every single day. One of you should do something about that look.”

Her thorough analysis left you stunned. You attempted to put the pieces together in your brain, trying to mask your confusion as you did so.

“I’d never noticed that before.”

“Youth is wasted on the young. What’s the point of eyesight if you're not going to use it?”

You chuckled at that, though you also used it as a way to ignore the truth behind the statement. Did he look at you a certain way? Were you so deep into your oblivion that you just never noticed before? Or so deep into your own infatuation, too busy staring at him through your own eyes, to pay attention to how you might look through his? With all your newfound. overthinking all you could do was reply with a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you for that. I appreciate the advice.”

Violet was capricious in her conversation, easily distracted if you could get her back on the right track. In this moment, you utilized her fickleness to steer her back on track. Or at least, get the conversation back on the track you were comfortable with.

“Do you have a bouquet request?”

She thought for a moment, giving you a slow nod before she verbalized her answer.

“Well, it is starting to be spring time, and the girls and I just finished reading a Jane Austen novel, so love is in the air. Maybe focus on pink. I’ll let you handle the rest. I’ll be back later on to pick it up."

She placed the same vase she used monthly on the counter. It bounced back and forth between you two, exchanged each time you created a new arrangement. The only thing that changed was the color of the bow on the exterior.

“Sounds like a plan. Have a lovely day.”

“You too, dear.”

One last warm smile crossed her face before she went to leave. She shuffled her way out the door, leaving you room to get started.

Violet’s lenient instructions were perfect; it gave you a guideline, but mostly the creative control was in your hands. The only thing you had to keep in mind was pink.

The first idea your mind went to was pink camellias. They were in season, and with spring on the horizon, they were perfect. And you couldn't turn down adding them in when their meaning was so poetic. Longing for you. It tugged at your heartstrings just to think about it — how people from hundreds of years ago felt the same emotions, the same deep want or need for a person, as people do today. A feeling so strong they couldn't put it in words, or didn't trust themselves to say it. So they let a flower take its place.

Pink camellias had to be the focus.

Using the vase Violet had left behind, you worked the rest of your suggestions, mixing and matching until both beauty and semantics aligned. Pink roses, perfect happiness. Magenta zinnia, lasting affection. Mix in some white carnations for sweetness and innocence to break it up, and it was finished. The ladies were sure to love it, whether they were casting a spell or reading Jane Eyre.

For the first time in a few days, you wanted to feel calm. You had been too many things going on in your life for you to focus on being present.

There was so much stress looming over you recently. You were unsure just how much longer you would have your place of work. Your family and your friends all seemingly wanted you to be more ahead in your life than you were. You had a huge, almost debilitating crush on Andy, and he probably didn't reciprocate.

Andy. He had been there for you whenever you need to talk about all that was on your mind, his kindness never wavering. Even though he was receptive to you, there was still a sense of guilt for spilling your guts to him like that. You were there for him as well, of course, though he didn't have as many complaints about his daily life as you did. All his kindness and his attention only made you like him even more, only making you more nervous and stressed about liking him. It was a downward spiral, and an exceedingly dizzying one at that.

The flower shop was the only refuge you could have. When you weren't in a state of worry over orders or foreclosure, it was the part of your day that provided you the most comfort. You had the opportunity to make these beautiful works and showcase your creativity and here you were, taking it for granted. You needed to ground yourself, to take a breather, to be in the moment.

So in your moment of desperation, you turned to your flowers for comfort.

Being so exposed to the scent of the flowers every day for years meant you got used to them over time. You slowly got accustomed until you eventually couldn't even detect the unique aroma of your workplace.

You took a pause, and leaning over the arrangement, you took a deep breath.

You had literally stopped to smell the roses.

The more shocking part was that it worked. You had successfully grounded yourself by stopping to appreciate your surroundings. Surely that had to be a metaphor for something.

You were snapped out of your tranquility. Of course you were.

You heard a voice, slightly judgmental and maybe a bit concerned, from the other side of the room.

“What was that?”

You perked up at the sound of the bell above the door, and quickly pulled yourself away from the flowers.

“Nothing! How can I help you?”

[blackynsupremacy]

MISSING YOU

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!reader

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

summary: your good friend, clark kent, is there for you after you experience a major loss.

contains: fluff, sensitive topics, heavy angst, mention of cancer, mention of death, coping mechanisms, based on true events, crying, self insert, grief, sadness, hugging, a kiss on the cheek, you can imagine this with any comfort character tbh.

a/n: hey, guys! i just want to say thank you all for the love, support, and condolences. it means a lot. this blurb does contain material that has happened to me irl and i’m writing as a way to cope with the recent loss of a family member that i was really close with, so please be kind. fun fact: my grandma actually used to play pac-man dowwwn and win. it was a memory that popped up while people were visiting after she died. if this is a sensitive topic for you, please DO NOT READ! requests are coming in slower than usual, so that’s why they’re closed. btw, fuck cancer.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @v3n1ce-bxtch @iamsebastiansstan @stargirl-mayaa @miguelspvssy @oliviaambs @artyandink @dulcescorderitas @ellethespaceunicorn

“thank you so much for coming, martha.” your mother commended with a sad smile as she took the dessert plate from martha kent’s hands who then brings her in for a warm, sympathetic embrace. clark and jonathan stood behind the women before their gaze shifted to the rest of your relatives and friends that were gathered at your grandmother’s house.

“i’m so sorry for your loss, dear.” martha whispered, her hand rubbing your mother’s back in a comforting caress. with a soft “thank you”, her and your mother pulled away from the hug before she’s greeted with hugs and condolences from the rest of the kent family. after she invites them all inside, she holds clark back by the front door.

“if you need to find y/n, she’s upstairs in my mama’s room—she’s been in there for a while. you’re her good friend, clark. perhaps, you can talk to her?” your mother’s pleading brown gaze matched his sincere baby blues. your mother was right after all, ever since you were kids, you and clark had been thick as thieves by hanging out in the loft, studying at the talon, solving the bizarre mysteries of smallville, and so much more, but things started to shift when your grandmother’s cancer had returned. her declining health condition rendered you distracted from your studies and friends as you made as much time as you could help take care of her while she was in hospice care. you spent time and took care of her as she did for you and others for most of your life. it all came crashing down when your aunt and cousin were watching her, assuming she was sleeping before she opened her eyes and took five shallow deep breaths until there was no more left to let go.

it was your responsibility to call the nurse, your hands and voice quivering as you informed her that your grandmother was unresponsive. your heart pounded in your chest, uncertain whether hers had stopped as well. thirty agonizing minutes had passed as your relatives, such as your brother, aunt, and uncle, came to assess the situation. the nurse had arrived, performed the standard procedure, and to your shattering disappointment, officially called the time of your grandmother’s death. It was a gut punch to say the least. all of the emotional and mental preparation couldn’t have really meant that you were ready to see her pass in real time. it couldn’t have meant that you were ready to live life without her. it certainly couldn’t have meant that she wouldn’t see you get married or have a family of your own like she did for your siblings and cousins. you walked out into the dark, windy night and you just screamed as the stream of hot tears ran down your face, your mother promptly came to console your doubled-over body. as you saw the funeral home take your grandmother away in a pristine hearse, that night made you sick to your stomach.

it all happened over the weekend, so you decided to take a few days off from school to process your loss. through small town word of mouth, clark and the rest of your friends heard of the news. lana, chloe, and pete each would send you emails or calls to offer their condolences as their schedules were too getting hectic to visit you in person. your mother, aunt, and uncle had arranged for one day where your other family and loved ones could gather to eat and converse of fond memories concerning your lost loved one at her home. you decided to wander off from the crowd and sneak off to your grandmother’s bedroom, a place of sanctuary that you’ve always known as a child.

clark was concerned for your well-being and he wanted to see you since you haven’t been at school. it hurt him to see you in any type of negative mood. it hurt him to see you so devastated. if clark was anything, he was a good friend— a good friend who wanted to be more, but was too cowardly to say anything. he brushed it off because this wasn’t the place nor the time, that could wait. right now, you needed a friend and he was going to be that. your mother pointed him in the direction of your location before he went on his way. he was a few feet away from the door until his heightened hearing picked up on a sound that resembled a quick, rhythmic "wakka wakka" noise with a somber, descending tone following shortly after.

clark deliberately stepped closer to follow the first sound he heard, pondering what you could possibly be doing in your grandmother’s room at an event like this. the door was cracked open, and he peered through to see that you were sitting on the edge of the bed, engrossed in a light blue cubed-shaped console with a silver joystick on top. your intense focus on the video game you were playing didn’t register his arrival. he glanced at the screen to see that you were playing none other than the iconic arcade classic, ms. pac-man. with a gentle touch, he tapped your shoulder, causing your hand to slip and mess up, resulting in your character to be defeated by the ghosts as you were on your last life.

“ugh, what!? look i just wanna be alo—“ your sentence was cut short when your brown eyes met with his blue ones that were full of the kindness and charm you always knew.

“clark? what—what are you doing here?” you asked, puzzled as you paused the game, not letting the console out of your grip. you didn’t mean to come off as brash as his presence did do you some relief. it’s just been a long week of bereavement for you. the farm boy stuffed his hands in his pockets, a sympathetic smile graced his lips.

“y’know i wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world.” your heart flutters at his words as he gestures towards the empty space next to you.

“may i?” he inquired. you nodded and scooted over to give him a good amount of space to sit next to you. before you knew it, he wrapped his arms around you in a amicable embrace.

“i’m so sorry for your loss.” he compassionately uttered into your ear. with one hand still on the console, your other arm reached to reciprocate the hug. the sound of his voice caused you to release a sigh and enough strength to verbally thank him before pulling away, a somber smile etched on your earth-toned face.

“lemme guess, my mom put you up to this, huh?” you quip, clark chuckled as he shook his head.

“partly, yes, but i’ve been wanting to see you and not just to bore you on all of the homework you’ve missed—it seems you’ve been preoccupied as it is.” clark comments, his eyes pointing towards the console in your hand. your eyes follow suit to the same item that you looked at with such sentiment.

“this was grandma’s. i remembered when she used to play this all the time and let me tell you— she was a badass!” at your words, you and clark laugh as you continued to explain how you went to her room to just think about her in solitude. that’s when the memories of her playing the game plagued your mind before you began to snoop through her closet. that’s when you found the familiar blue console of ms. pac-man. you crossed your fingers as you worked to hook it up to her old television. who knew that after a decade and some years, it worked as if it were brand new! from that point, you wanted to play and win the game as you never got to do so as a kid. you watched your grandmother play countless times and she let you give it a go, but you always ended up losing. it would discourage you because you really wanted to impress her, but she would always encourage you to keep going, reminding you that winning isn’t always everything in life.

“god, i wish i could just win this damn thing!” you exasperatedly sigh and sniffle, your thumb ghosting over the red button that would resume the game. clark’s eyes never pulled away from your profile, a few strands of your freshly braided hair fell in front of your face, he gingerly reached to push the braids back behind your ear only to see that your face was stained with tears. he called out your name.

“hey, hey—look at me. do you want to talk? y’know i’m always here to listen.” clark softly affirmed by placing his hand on your shoulder which relaxed under his touch. you turned your head towards him, sniffling as more tears rained down your now blushed cheeks.

“clark—it’s like i’ve seen this coming, but—“ you swallowed. “i can’t believe she’s not here. just six months ago, she was completely healthy. it’s just not fair!” the gut punch returned as her kind face flashed into your mind, the same face that would gaze at you with such content as she watched you grow from a baby to a young woman, even in her ailment. god, how you missed her so. you missed her style, her love, her kisses, her funny nicknames for you, her cooking, her laughter, but most of all, her presence. the reality of saying your final goodbye was biting at you. you sobbed, dropping the console to the floor as your arms found their place around clark’s torso.

not hesitating to wrap his arms around you, he rubbed circles on your back as you nuzzled your face within his signature flannel.

“i’ve got you. it’s going to be okay.” he reassured, cradling you in his embrace, his shirt getting so

he didn’t mind, he was going to be right here whenever you needed him and for that, you loved him immensely for it. in some situations, you always thought of clark as your hero, but even heroes have their limits, and in that moment, all you wanted was a piece of the past. you pulled away from him, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you glanced at the console still in your hands. it was a relic from your grandmother's joy and your youth. although the game was paused, the bright colors of the ms. pac-man screen flickered like a beacon of nostalgia. you pursed your lips, cutting your puffy eyes to clark before clearing your throat to articulate the words.

“do you think—do you think I could still play, clark?” you questioned, your voice still trembling.

your best friend nodded, a gentle smile spreading across his handsome face.

“of course! she would’ve wanted you to play.” he reassured again, patting your shoulder. that was his own special signal of nudging to step into something that you would’ve seen as impossible.

with a deep breath, you picked up the console again, your fingers trembling as you pressed the start button to resume the game. the familiar sounds filled the room, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of your grandmother’s spirit and drive beside you as your hand began to move on the joystick. you were focused, determined to beat her high score, to feel that connection as you felt it all those years ago.

as the ghosts chased your ms. pac-man across the screen, you could almost hear your grandmother's infectious laughter encouraging you, urging you to keep going. you didn’t stop. with a furrowed gaze and a steady hand every single white dot was disappearing into your grasp as you effortlessly dodged the ghosts. each time you consumed a fruit power-up, clark kent was there as your personal cheerleader.

“c’mon, y/n! you can do it!” clark encouraged, his voice an enthusiastic tone as he leaned forward to watch you move the pac-man like clockwork on the television screen. with each dot you devoured, the weight on your heart began to lift, and you found yourself grinning despite the warm tears still lingering in your eyes. finally, with one last maneuver, you cleared the maze of the white dots with no lives lost, the screen flashing in celebration. you had done it! you won the game for the first time in your life. your grandmother had been there for recitals, birthdays, and graduations, but this had to be one of your biggest achievements yet and she wasn’t here to see it happen.

“i—i did it! i really did it!” you exclaimed, laughter bubbling up through your tears. an array of emotions spread through you like they never did before, you couldn’t even describe how it felt in that moment. clark beamed at you, pride shining in his ocean eyes.

“i knew you could. i know that she’s so proud of you.”

overwhelmed with emotion, you turned to him, gratitude swelling within you, so you did the unthinkable, but not the impossible. you leaned in, wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and landed a lingering, tender kiss on his cheek.

“oooh! thank you, thank you, thank you, clark! for everything. you’re the best person a girl could ever wish for.”

it was slow at first, but nonetheless he smiled. to your amusement, the once pale skin of his cheeks were now painted a faint crimson as his gaze was awestruck for a second until you called his name to return him back to earth.

“a-anytime. y’know i’m always here for you.” clark stammered, but you both could tell he was sincere.” his palm reached out as a warm invitation for you to take.

“i have no doubt about that and i’d do the same for you in a heartbeat, clark.” you return the sentiment by taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. a sudden warm tingle surged through you, which was strange as you’ve held clark’s hand on other occasions—platonically of course. what was this feeling? you were dealing with so much, it was difficult to even pinpoint it. his tenor voice broke you out of your daze.

“now, let’s go back to your family. i’m sure they need you just as much as you need them.” you nod at his statement. this was going to be hard, but you were grateful to have someone like clark kent in your corner. like the gentleman he was, he carefully tugged you up from your seat on your grandmother’s bed, careful that you wouldn’t stumble.

hand in hand, you walked back into the warmth of your family downstairs, carrying a piece of your grandmother with you, and the strength of your connection with clark lighting the way for the funeral, burial, and whatever dark days may be ahead.

[onceinamillionposter]

Rafayel x Black!Reader Headcannons

a/n: In honor of black history month!(this is just me projecting)

Rafayel loves you to pieces, your his muse. He paints stuff for you, specifically portraits of you in golden sunlight- he adores those tiny moments to pieces , so much that he has his own little room of just paintings of you.

He learnt how to do acrylics just for you- if not learnt he developed on his skills to be able to add charms. What better way of bonding time than holding hands with you to make you feel even more beautiful than you already are!

He funds all your braids and wing installs, you need 100 for some boho braids? Say less! Cornrows expensive as hell- for who cause I know your not paying for it? His wallets yours for when you need to get them done but as an act of repayment you better sit and pose! But he loves when you change up your look, more inspiration (more excuses for a fun time in bed) but in general it’s just so fun to see you with new things in!

If you guys are going out, you have to stop at one hair care shop, it’s expected in fact the law every-time you guys go out. Also he most definitely picks up things that would work on his much more straight hair but wants to feel involved with you. He makes you guys have matching bonnets (as ridiculous as the idea was) but still sleeping in is always fun with little bonnets on and watching the tv.

He is not shy about trying cultural food, regardless of spice levels (he has the spice tolerance of a demon) but either way he puts an effort in to learn about your culture that means including culinary dishes. Especially when it includes fish!

Aunties love him, Uncles hate him, kids 8 and up have friendly banter with him and babies scream when they’re in his hands making him scared. I am so convinced aunties love him to pieces, any woman in your family is a fan because he practically butters them up to a ridiculous amounts while Uncles feel threatened. Anyway kids bully him and he bullies them back , but when asked who you would rather drive to an event with - “I call dibs on uncle Rafayel!” There would be whole fights about it, I kid you not. Anyway the baby one is self explanatory, those babies hate him and he hates them (he just feels sad they don’t like him, although he hates them)

If he goes to church with you, he helps out in the kitchen here and there. He likes the stressful environment and takes extra food home but do not tell anyone that! But everyone’s used to him helping out in the kitchen and learning how to cook to both make food at home and help those in the kitchen.

He also loves learning about black Art, he obviously dabbled in it because he’s literally an artist- even before you! But now he’s involved with it more, taking inspiration (with credit of course) and just visiting more museums for the African corners, noting things down like hues, depictions and perspective.

He loves you, for you and all of you and that shall never change. Easy to say and that he follows for the rest of his life!

(Extra : hums along to church choirs a lot and almost gets convinced to join but he decides it’s not his vibe and will hum along in the audience)

Happy black history month! 😭 This is kinda corny but I feel the need.

[kazamasthings]

How Lee Chaolan, Jin Kazama, Hwoarang React When Reader Says She's Pregnant

thank you so much, anon! i'm so sorry for the delayed response. i've been struggling with depression, which led me to neglect this blog for a while. I withdrew from many things I enjoy and unfortunately, fell into a period of deep sadness. however, my love for tekken remains strong, and I'm eager to get back to writing about it. 🥺 so, here we go!

How would Lee Chaolan, Jin Kazama, and Hwoarang react when reader says she is pregnant?

and a little bonus!

Lee Chaolan

You already knew you were pregnant and now you needed to tell your fiancé. You wanted to do it in a grand way, since everything you did together was grand. After all, Lee Chaolan wasn't just a man, he was the man in your life. And he deserved the best surprise in the world.

You dressed meticulously for dinner that night, choosing a dress that subtly highlighted your growing belly, but without being too obvious. The big reveal would be the cherry on top of your anniversary celebration. Lee's driver arrived punctually to whisk you away to the most elegant restaurant in town. Your heart pounded with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

When you arrived, Lee was waiting for you, his warm smile radiating pure love. He looked absolutely stunning in his impeccably tailored suit. He approached you with feline grace, kissed your hand with a touch as delicate as silk, and pulled out your chair with the effortless charm of a true gentleman.

The dinner was a delight, both for the exquisite food and the engaging conversation. Lee was especially charming that night, his eyes shining with boyish enthusiasm as he talked about his robotics projects. It warmed your heart to see him share his passions with you. You felt like the luckiest woman in the world to have such an intelligent, charming, and romantic man by your side.

When it was time to exchange gifts, Lee presented you with an envelope filled with photos of breathtaking landscapes from around the globe. "Choose a place, my love," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "or perhaps we can visit them all!" You laughed, marveling at his generosity.

Then it was your turn. You took a deep breath, trying to still the tremor in your hands, and offered the gift box to Lee. He accepted it with curiosity, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. Upon opening it, he first saw a pair of tiny baby shoes. A flicker of confusion crossed his face before his eyes widened as he noticed a neatly folded baby outfit nestled beneath the shoes.

You could practically see the gears turning in your fiancé's brilliant mind as he processed the information. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes.

"My love..." he began, his voice thick with emotion, "...Don't tell me we're going to have an heir?!"

"Yes, Lee!" you replied, your own eyes brimming with happy tears, "I'm pregnant! We're going to have a baby!"

"That's...Excellent!" he exclaimed, before gently pulling you into a passionate kiss. It was a kiss overflowing with love, desire, and pure happiness. No more words were needed. That kiss said everything. Lee was ecstatic. And so were you.

During pregnancy:

Lee Chaolan would become the epitome of the devoted husband during your pregnancy. If you craved an authentic Argentine barbecue at 3 AM in Tokyo, he would move heaven and earth (and draw upon his considerable resources) to magically transport a Buenos Aires steakhouse to your dining room. Literally any whim you expressed would be met with swift and decisive action, no questions asked.

His staff, quite accustomed to their boss's... particularities, would develop a comprehensive manual on "How to Pamper the Expectant Mother" and accumulate a hefty number of frequent flyer miles as they jet-setted around the world fulfilling your every craving.

Lee would transform into a connoisseur of out-of-season exotic fruits, a patron of renowned chefs for personalized cooking lessons, and even a collector of miniature robot sculptures for the baby's crib (because, naturally, the nursery needed a touch of his genius, wouldn't it?).

On fatherhood:

Fatherhood would deepen Lee's devotion and amplify his protectiveness. He would leverage his intelligence and resources to ensure his child enjoys every possible advantage, from a top-tier education to opportunities to explore diverse cultures.

You know the kind of father who lives by the mantra "My child, my rules"? Lee would embody that, but with an added layer of sophistication. He might even design a robotic nanny capable of teaching the baby Mandarin while simultaneously rocking the cradle.

He would be the kind of father who proudly displays a family photo in his wallet. He would meticulously document every milestone, from first steps to first words, capturing high-quality photos and videos that would be carefully archived and shared with loved ones.

Lee would likely want more than one child, believing his firstborn deserves the companionship of siblings. He would also envision his children as extensions of his legacy, individuals to nurture, guide, and eventually entrust with his empire and vast knowledge.

Above all else, Lee's loyalty to his family would be unwavering. He would be a devoted and present father, striving to maintain a healthy balance between his demanding career and his family life. He would prioritize attending every important event in his children's lives, from school plays to sports matches.

Lee would be a father who inspires his children to reach their full potential, encouraging them to cultivate their talents and pursue their passions. He would be a role model of discipline, intelligence, and dedication.

Jin Kazama

You were sitting on the bathroom floor, hands trembling as you stared at the positive pregnancy test. You knew the dangers of being romantically involved with Jin Kazama. The threats you’d already received for being close to him were a stark reminder that the world wasn't a safe haven for your love. And now, with a baby on the way, the risks seemed to multiply exponentially.

"Have courage," you whispered to yourself, trying to quell the rising tide of fear. "You are strong... You will take care of this." But the words felt hollow and inadequate against the wave of doubts crashing over you. How would Jin react?

Later that day, when Jin arrived home, he immediately sensed that something was amiss. The sadness etched on your face worried him deeply. He approached you, his expression a mixture of affection and concern, and asked softly, "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk," you replied, your voice trembling.

You sat side by side on the couch, your bodies tense and unyielding. You took a shaky breath, searching for the right words to articulate the storm raging within you.

"I've been experiencing some changes... and I took a test today... I... I don't know how it happened, we were so careful, but... I'm pregnant," you confessed, tears streaming down your face.

Jin's reaction was exactly what you had dreaded: silence. He didn't shout, he didn't cry, he didn't express any emotion whatsoever. He simply sat there, frozen, his gaze fixed on some distant point. In his mind, a whirlwind of thoughts collided in a matter of seconds.

He thought of you, your safety, the ever-present danger you faced simply by being with him. He thought of his child, the potential for them to inherit the Devil Gene, the difficult life that could await them. He remembered his own childhood, how he was manipulated and used by the very people who were supposed to care for him: his father and grandfather. How could he possibly be a good father? It was his fault, his love for you had placed you both in jeopardy.

But then, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a memory surfaced: his mother. The strong, resilient woman who raised him alone, who fought to protect him.

In one swift movement, Jin pulled you into a warm, comforting embrace. With your head resting against his chest, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart.

"Jin... What are we going to do?" you asked, your voice choked with tears.

"Darling..." he replied, his words filled with love and unwavering conviction. "You've just given me one more reason to live and fight."

Those words, spoken by Jin, who was usually so reserved and guarded with his feelings, were a powerful declaration of love.

"Don't worry," he continued, "You're strong and brave. We'll face this together."

In that moment, Jin's only thought was protecting his new family. He held you close, as if trying to shield you from all the evils of the world. A single tear escaped his eye as he realized this was his chance to break the cycle, to do things differently, to avoid the mistakes of his father and grandfather. He would give everything he had to his family. In his heart, he wished his mother could be there to share the joyous news.

During pregnancy:

Jin Kazama, with his naturally reserved and protective nature, would become your personal guardian during your pregnancy. He would feel an overwhelming sense of responsibility and would stop at nothing to ensure your safety and well-being. The memories of his own troubled childhood, the absence of a father, would fuel his determination to provide the opposite experience for his own child.

He would likely compile a detailed dossier on every doctor's appointment, every test, every stage of the baby's development. He would become a self-taught expert on prenatal nutrition, creating balanced and personalized meal plans for you. And, of course, he would ensure your utmost comfort, arranging for relaxing massages, providing extra pillows, and anticipating your every need.

Jin would be a "24/7 husband" during your pregnancy. He would be constantly attentive, observing your every move, every expression, every flicker of discomfort. His protective instincts would intensify to the point where he might install security cameras throughout the house and hire personal security to accompany you on outings.

And, as mentioned before, Jin's love language is acts of service. He would happily embrace the role of "malewife", taking care of all household chores, from dishes to laundry, allowing you to rest and focus on nurturing the baby. This was a side of Jin that only you knew.

At the slightest hint of fatigue, Jin would mobilize his extensive network of contacts to secure the most qualified medical professionals in the country, ensuring you receive VIP treatment throughout your pregnancy.

On fatherhood:

Jin would be a devoted and loving father, determined to break the cycle of violence and abandonment that defined his own upbringing. He would want his child to feel loved, protected, and secure, and would dedicate himself to providing that unconditionally.

You can be certain he would never, under any circumstances, even consider throwing his child off a cliff! Instead, he would commit himself to instilling in his heir the values he holds dear: respect, compassion for all living beings, altruism, and unwavering integrity.

And, naturally, Jin would teach his kid self-defense. After all, a Kazama must be able to protect themselves. But he would do so responsibly, imparting self-defense techniques and martial arts skills with the explicit purpose of protection, not aggression.

Jin would likely want only one child, at least initially. He would be deeply concerned about the possibility of passing on the Devil Gene and would want to focus all his attention and love on a single child. Perhaps, after confirming his child is free of the cursed gene, he might consider expanding his family.

He would strive to be his son's best friend, a present and involved father who actively participates in his child's development and education. He would always be there to listen, to play, to offer guidance and unwavering support. Jin would be a father who inspires his son to become the best version of himself, encouraging him to pursue his dreams and fight for what he believes in.

Hwoarang

Your boyfriend should have been home by now. You sent him a message hours ago, but he hadn't replied. "Ugh! I'm so excited to tell him the news!", you muttered to yourself, pacing your apartment. Today was the day you'd finally reveal you were pregnant. Only Master Baek knew so far.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Master Baek Doo San. He said Hwoarang was training late at the dojo again and that he was practically begging you to come get him. He even added a pleading face emoji, a sight you never thought you'd see from Master Baek.

You rolled your eyes playfully, a smile tugging at your lips. Hwoarang and his dedication to training... it was a constant source of amusement and sometimes, mild exasperation, but you secretly admired his passion.

"Okay, Master Baek," you texted back. "I'm on my way. And I'm going to give him a piece of my mind for not answering my messages!"

Grabbing your keys, you left the apartment, a playful scolding already forming in your mind. "He's going to get an earful," you thought, "I have big news, and he's busy beating up a punching bag!"

Arriving at the dojo, you found it mostly dark, save for a single light glowing from within. Hwoarang's motorcycle was parked out front, confirming your suspicions.

You quietly opened the dojo door and peeked inside. There he was, training with Master Baek, completely engrossed in their sparring. They were so focused they didn't even hear you enter.

You bowed respectfully to Master Baek, who returned the gesture with a nod and a warm smile. Then you turned your attention to Hwoarang, who still hadn't noticed you.

"Hwoarang!", you called out, feigning annoyance. "Why haven't you answered my texts? I've been waiting for you!"

Hwoarang stopped mid-kick and turned, flashing you a sheepish grin. "Honey, I totally lost track of time! I'm so sorry!", he apologized, but you sensed he was holding something back.

"Hwoarang!!! I was so excited, you should be more considerate!", you scolded, trying to keep a straight face in front of Master Baek, who was watching with amusement. This was definitely a familiar scene for him.

Your words finally snapped Hwoarang out of his training trance. He looked at you curiously and then, a little nervously, said he had something to tell you too.

Your expression softened instantly. You looked at him with a mix of affection and confusion, suggesting you should both just say whatever it was at the same time. You were certain your news would be the bigger bombshell.

He hesitated for a moment, then excused himself. He went to the locker room and returned a few seconds later, his hands clasped behind his back.

Finally, you both counted to three and…

"I'm pregnant!", "Will you marry me?", you exclaimed in unison.

A stunned silence filled the dojo. You both froze, staring at each other in disbelief.

In the next three seconds, Hwoarang was down on one knee, a small velvet box open in his hand, revealing a beautiful ring. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of shock and overwhelming joy. You were equally speechless, your mind struggling to process everything.

The next moment, you were both embracing, laughing and crying, the initial shock giving way to pure elation. "Are you serious?", "I can't believe it!", you both kept repeating, tears streaming down your faces.

Your now fiancé swept you into his arms and twirled you around, a romantic and joyful celebration. Hwoarang, still beaming, explained he’d been planning to propose for months, saving up for the perfect ring. He then added that Master Baek had suggested proposing at the dojo, where you first met.

Master Baek, his smile radiating fatherly pride, approached you both. He would have normally chided you for the commotion in his dojo, but this time, he simply couldn't resist beaming with happiness for his two beloved students.

"Master, I'm going to be a father and I'm getting married!", Hwoarang announced, his voice overflowing with happiness. "You're going to be a grandpa!"

Hwoarang, typically impulsive and driven by his passion for fighting, would undergo a remarkable transformation during your pregnancy. The news of impending fatherhood would hit him like a lightning bolt, awakening a previously unseen side of his personality.

Baek Doo San, who was both a mentor and a father figure to Hwoarang, and also the respected master of his soon-to-be wife, felt deeply touched. He knew this was a momentous occasion in their lives, and he felt honored to be a part of it.

During pregnancy:

It would take some time for it to fully sink in. Initially, he might still get into the occasional street brawl, but gradually, the reality of his new responsibility would dawn on him. The man who once lived for the thrill of combat would now be a familiar sight at the local supermarket and pharmacy, carrying bags of groceries and prenatal vitamins with a goofy grin.

The once-enticing allure of dangerous street fights would diminish, replaced by a deep sense of responsibility. "My girl's pregnant and waiting for me, I ain't got time for this," he'd declare with newfound maturity, turning down any invitations to trouble.

Hwoarang would immerse himself in the world of pregnancy, devouring books, articles, and websites on prenatal care. He'd pepper doctors and nurses with questions, and might even join online parenting forums, eager to learn everything he could.

The days of forgotten texts and late-night training sessions would be a distant memory. He'd become your unwavering support system, attending every prenatal appointment, every ultrasound, every crucial moment.

He'd transform into an expert on remedies for morning sickness, a masseur for aching backs, and a connoisseur of comfortable sleeping positions. He'd ensure you were always well-nourished, stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables, and gently encourage you to stay active with prenatal exercises.

On fatherhood:

When the baby arrives, Hwoarang's transformation would be complete. The occasional impatience he sometimes displayed would melt away, replaced by an endless well of patience, especially when it came to his little girl.

He'd become the epitome of the cool, present father, attending every school event, teaching her how to ride a bike, and taking her on fishing trips. He'd be bursting with pride, showing off pictures of his daughter to anyone who'd listen.

Hwoarang would radiate the energy of a doting dad, showering his little princess with affection and spoiling her (within reason, of course). He'd take her shopping, buy her adorable clothes and toys, and maybe even let her give him a makeover. Think Gru from "Despicable Me," but with more style and less villainy.

He wouldn't hesitate to shower his daughter with love, showering her with hugs! He'd be a fun-loving dad, playing games, telling stories, and making silly faces just to see her smile.

And, naturally, his little girl would be a regular at the dojo from a young age. Hwoarang would teach her self-defense, instilling in her not only physical skills but also discipline, respect, and perseverance. He'd be a puddle of mush the first time he saw her in a mini kimono, throwing her first (adorable) kicks.

[soul-meister]

slight pete dinunzio x fem!alternative!reader : the eltingville club

not beta read

cw: misogyny, slight sexual harassment(reader gets called tits), a crumb of pete and reader interaction

summary: you, being used to the attention of others, visit a rundown comic book shop in your friend's place

note: this does involve "geek girl" from the comics but I rearranged it so this takes place before the comic book shop incident. also, this is really short but I don't care

Your friend, Rebecca or Becca[1] as you called her, was a geek in her own right and you loved that about her. You found delight in seeing others enjoy their own hobbies without a care for other people's opinions as you did exactly that yourself, from your hobbies to your unusual appearance.

So, when she told you about what happened yesterday afternoon, this morning before school, you were a mix of disgust and annoyance. Did no one ever teach those boys it's just plain weird to take pictures of people you don't know without asking, especially underage girls?

Well, anyways- That's why you're here, Joe's Fantasy World, after school to find this comic book Becca was looking for, Saga[2], in trade paperback or whatever she called it. While you two did have similar interests in anime and manga, you weren't much for comics and such, focusing yourself on other things.

Opening the door to the little rundown shop, you step inside and just like Becca described, there was young and middle-aged boys mingling around the store, some reading through comics and others discussing god knows what.

"A girl?!"

At the random boy's voice, it was like a domino effect as each pair of beady eyes turned in your direction. Creepy. Even creepier was that it took only a few seconds for them to have their phones out and directed at you, the clicking of the picture button popping up around the store.

You stood there, eyes darting around as you thought over your next actions, trying to figure out what would work best to keep their leering gazes to themselves, or at least turn the observing into something more fearful.

You smirked to yourself as your eyes set on a shorter boy who held his phone out like the others, a bucked tooth grin spread on his face. You kept your gaze set on him as you walked up, your smirk turning into something meeker, hoping to make you seem more approachable despite your piercings and dead-appearing makeup. "Can I borrow this? I need to make a call and my phone's dead."

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure," the kid hesitated, his smile twitching out of nervousness.

"Thanks," grabbing it from his hand, you make your way out of the shop, making it seem like you were taking your call in private. You then pulled your arm back and launched it as far you could, watching as a motorcycle drove over it once it hit the ground, leading to the person crashing.

Walking back inside the boy ran up to you, his face morphed in distress at your action, "my-my phone! Why would you do that?!"

You stared down at him, the smile you had given him earlier gone, before bending down enough to scream in his face for a few seconds before stopping and turning away from him, making your way up to the man behind the counter.

"Do you have the new Saga trade?"

"Over there," the balding man pointed to a corner of the store with apprehension, and you followed his directions, ignoring the whispers that slowly started around the store at your little outburst.

Grabbing the book that Becca had shown you earlier on her phone, you glanced over briefly to find a recognizable title and image from a movie you've been recently obsessed with.

"Oh, shit. You have Tank Girl[3]. I didn't even know there were comics about her." Not finding any numbers on the spines of the comics, you shrug to yourself and grab a few with different titles. Once back at the counter, you set Becca and yours stuff down before reaching into your backpack riddled with keychains and pins to pull out your wallet.

"Can I do two separate transactions?" You separated the two comics, glancing up at the man who was still staring at you.

"Sure."

『••✎••』

As you were about to exit the building with your purchases in hand, an accented voice came from your left, "nice shirt, tits."

Glancing down, you took remembered the House of 1000 Corpses[4] graphic tee you wore before turning your attention to the boy, who you recognized from around school. His name was Pete something. "Aww, thanks, pimples."

[1] Rebecca is the name I gave to "Geek Girl" from "This Fan...This Monster"

[2] Saga is the comic Rebecca was looking for in "This Fan...This Monster"

[3] Tank Girl is mentioned in "Bring me the Head of Boba Fett" in the comics so I'm assuming Joe sells the comics, though they might be talking about the movie instead

[4] House of 1000 Corpses is the first movie in a horror trilogy made by Rob Zombie

[wrenkenstein]

CLONE X OC WEEK

DAY 2: QUALITY TIME

Ya girl is a bit early today - college calls, and I need to go to bed early tonight. But... why not indulge in some cute clone content before I sleep? ;) And even better, I get to spotlight some of my favorite artists who've drawn Juntech before as well!

As usual, here are some important links:

Juno's bio website

Juntech informational hub (outdated!)

And the tag! @clonexocweek

Without further ado, here's todays content!

What does 'quality time' look like for Tech and Juno?

For two braniacs of similar prestige, Tech and Juno have a lot of ways they like to spend time together. But quality time for them isn't always just working on shared projects!... Even if that's something they enjoy doing to wind down. No, Tech and Juno have multiple ways of sharing each others space...

Museum hopping

Art by my beloved @cloned-eyes

It makes perfect sense that two nerds would enjoy such activities - a perfect excuse to be in eachothers company, AND one where they can engage their minds? Museum's are a favorite place for Juno and Tech to visit whenever they stumble upon civilized planets, and they always make an excuse to take a "Rsearch venture" to the local museum, if possible. But the trips to the museum do more than just give them an excuse to be learning on-the-go; there's quite a bit to be said about how such an excursion is made even more enjoyable by having the right company around. Tech and Juno adore being able to have an excuse to just... talk to one another about their interests. Not that they needed one beforehand, but being surrounded by so much intrigue prompts discussion, and they indulge hours of informational exchange - and cute comments sprinkled in, where Juno will compare Tech to a particularly strange bug, and Tech will feel his cheeks flare a bit.

Shared invention

Art by my perfect @echojedis

Working together on shared projects might seem like a chore, but to these two, it's something they adore. Being able to throw themselves into invention and work together offers them great alone time, and keeps them engaged and constantly bouncing around better and better ideas together. Tech is happy to have someone so invested in building like he is, and Juno is happy to be able to assist however she can - even if her expertise lies more in science and experimentation than it does engineering and assembly. Tech uses this time to actually teach Juno how to be a better and more informed engineer, which has already proved to pay off, as Juno is rapidly growing more and more fluent in the art of inventions and design - and she's already capable of keeping up with Tech. And Tech? Well, he feels adored just having someone around who cares enough to learn.

Discussions... long, long discussions

MORE @echojedis ART

What did you expect out of the two chattiest people around? It seems fitting that the other has finally met their verbal match, as Juno and Tech love to talk. Either jumps at the excuse to continue in-depth discussion about various topics of interest - astral engineering, planetary biology, diversity between biological fauna, you name it. These two will never shut up. Crosshair wants to kick them both in the mouth for how often they keep him up at night, chattering away like two eager birds. But nobody has the heart to stop them - this is the first time in their lives they've had someone else willingly engage in thoughtful dialouge with them about their interests. Who wouldn't want to spend hours talking with their favorite person?

Sleep

Art by bloodbroox

Sleep is a touchy thing for Juno, who has never allowed herself to sleep near another living soul. During missions, she'd stay up all night keeping watch, using it as an excuse to never fall into the vulnerable state of sleep - and this was a habit she intended to continue abiding by... until Tech showed up. Tech figured out pretty quickly that the level of vulnerability and saftey sleep required made it something Juno rarely sought out, to the point it was affected her abilities. So? Under the guise of research and improved efficiency, Tech suggested they start napping together. (linked is a fic, if you want a detailed read of how it happened. ;))

And it didn't just work. Juno became addicted to the feeling of another warm body, and soon, she became dependent on needing Tech around to sleep properly.

Tech is more than happy to accomodate - he can sleep anywhere at any time, and it just seemed logical to help Juno break her clans destructive habits and embrace sleep. It's a test of trust, one of their unbreakable bond, and Juno tests that trust every day whenever she sleeps with Tech... and Tech has no intention of breaking that promise to keep her safe.

[veilosdaigoa]

Daily Writing Challenge February 2025 Day 2 - Power

TW: Abuse, Violence, Eye Horror

A soft knock rapped on the door before the youthful face of Zynia peeked through the crack, keeping her voice low: “Maira, that asshole is back. Smells like the back alley of Murder Row too. You want me to get rid of him?” 

Maira paused the gentle glide of her paintbrush over top of the canvas and glanced over towards ten year old Veilos, and then towards the door. “No, I’ll get rid of him this time. Can you take Veil into your room? I’ll make it quick.”

“Course! I got no clients coming in tonight. I can keep him as long as you need.” Zynia pushed the door open and extended a hand towards Maira’s young son, beckoning him over, “C’mon cutie, I’ve got a stash of that candy your mom doesn’t want me giving you.” She gave a playful wink towards Maira, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Go on with Miss Zynia, hun. We’ll get back to painting in a few.” She wiped her hands on her artist apron before pulling it off over her head and setting it, and their still wet canvases, aside.

“Thanks mom!” Veilos bounced onto his feet and hurried to the door, eagerly taking Zynia’s hand. She was his favorite at the bordello, always spoiling him with treats and never afraid to swear in front of him. She had been with Rose Manor for about a year and a half now after she had left her abusive husband. Maira and she became fast friends during that time, although later in life Veil would realize that they had always been a little more than just friends.

Zynia and Veilos scooted down the hallway to her room, catching a glimpse of that stumbling asshole downstairs. Veil knew a drunk when he saw one these days, and the pang of worry sat heavily in the pit of his stomach. He was much larger than his mom and could easily overpower her - and he was pretty sure he had in the past. She always had a few extra bruises after his visits but she would tell him that was normal. Veil disliked him, but he knew they needed the gold and that’s why mom did what she did.

Zynia shut the door behind them and immediately rewarded him with a few of the sugary cinnamon candies he loved. She tried to distract him with conversation as the muffled voice of his mother called out to the man and his heavy boots thudded up the stairs. The yelling started almost immediately as the door slammed shut behind them, Veilos couldn’t quite make out what was being said, so he pressed his ear against the shared wall in an attempt to better hear their conversation.

“Veilos. It’s her business, leave them alone.” Zynia motioned for him to come join her at the small table in the center of her room. Although a loud *THUMP*, followed by the sound of glass breaking caused her to shoot to her feet as the two shared a worried look. Maybe it wasn’t just her business anymore.

“I have to make sure she’s okay.” Veil reached for the door, only to have his hand swatted away by Zynia.

“No, I’ll go. You stay here.” Fingers curled around the wooden bat she kept next to her bed and slipped out of the door, walking on tiptoes until she stood just outside of Maira’s room. Zynia was the brave one, she always said that someone needed to stand up to these jerks and things had improved vastly at the bordello since her arrival.

Veil watched her from the doorway, and they both startled when another loud *THUD* rattled the closed door. He ran from the room and gave his mother’s door a try, only to discover it had been locked. “MOM!! MOM, ARE YOU OKAY? WHAT’S HAPPENING!?”

Zynia pulled him back and gently pushed him off to the side as she pointed towards her room and made a shooing motion while giving him an exasperated look.

There was a moment of silence before boots stomped towards the door and Zynia white-knuckled her bat in both hands. It flung open, the husky man now occupying the entire doorway as he glared down at the much smaller Zynia. “What? We’re in the middle of something, fuck off. The both of ya.”

Veil’s gaze darted in the small gaps between the man and the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of his mother. “MOM!” He could see her cowering at the back of the room, clutching an arm against her chest, hair disheveled, and what looked like blood trickling down her face. He immediately darted for the room, only to be met with a grimy hand to the face shoving him backwards. He landed on his rear and was about to jump up and try again when Zynia quickly waved him off.

She mustered up as much courage as she could manage and stood her ground, “You have to leave. NOW! Guards are on their way. You’re not welcome here anymore!” Guards were definitely not on their way, staffing had been low for a while now and neither had time to call in any city guards.

“And what are you gonna do if I say no?”

Zynia raised the bat, gritting her teeth, “You’ll be arrested an–” She didn’t have a chance to finish that statement as the drunken man grabbed the bat and yanked it out of her grip before she even had a chance to use it. Before he could do anything, she delivered a swift kick to his crotch, and then another to his knee. He howled in pain and stumbled backwards into the room, and Zynia followed him inside.

Veilos stood off to the side, unable to see what was happening and almost afraid to look. A cacophony of fighting sounds echoed through the small space for what felt like an eternity, but in reality was only a matter of seconds: Breaking glass, cracking furniture, feminine screams, and masculine growls and yelps.  Eventually his mother bounced the side of her skull against the door frame and fell partially into the hallway, attempting to crawl out to safety.

“Mom!” Before he had much time to think about what he was doing, Veil rushed over and crouched next to her to see if she was still conscious. 

“Veil, please, go get help.” Her voice was raspy, weak.

It was too late at that point, the large man was already looming over them with dagger in hand and before it could be driven down into his mother, Veilos blocked the blow with his left arm. Not even the adrenaline could dampen the excruciating pain as the blade lodged halfway into his forearm. It was such a surreal experience to stare at this weapon now stuck in his own flesh and bone, and the tidal wave of pain and nausea hit all at once as he tripped backwards over his mother’s outstretched arm.

This was it. He was going to watch his mother and Zynia get killed, and then he was going to die. They had put up a good fight, but that man was just too strong and there was nothing he could do to stop this from happening. He watched in horror as the man clamped his meaty fingers around his mother’s neck, and time almost seemed to slow as Veilos clambered over, beating his small fists against him only to be shoved away repeatedly.

The frustration in him swelled.  He hated being so small and so helpless.  He hated seeing these women and men taken advantage of repeatedly. He hated seeing them brush off bruises and pain and suffering they didn’t deserve. He HATED this man with a fiery, burning passion he had never felt before. And with all of that anger boiling up within, it eventually spilled over into one echoing, bellowing shriek of rage:

“S̷̛̗͎̝͕̔͊̋̎͘T̷͖̰̑̃̓̓̏̚O̷̰͓̥̍͂̓͠P̵̨̻͉̰̰̭̈̄͆͗̊!”

The man immediately stopped what he had been doing and looked over towards Veilos with a bewildered expression.

Veilos stood up and wiped the tears clouding his eyes, and pointed to a shard from a nearby window.

“P̵̧̮̆́͝I̵͉͛C̶͚̺͚̟̲̩̏́̎̋K̸̬̟̩͚̂̃̌̅̑͝ ̵̖̺̯̱̼́͆̀̅̕Ụ̸̡̫̲͚̾̊̄̉͑̚ͅP̵͇̖̙̻̆̌͊͘͠ ̸̟̼͙̩̞̝̊͌̓̅̕Ṭ̴̬̗̞͇͊̊̅̏H̶̯̚̚͜A̴͚̒̔T̵͕̦͌̅̈̄͘ ̷̛̞͖͚̯P̴̡͚̀̃̔I̶̢̩̗̰͈͈̓͊̕E̷̝̩̐̍̓̄͋̕C̷͉̭͔̣̥̞̄̐͑͝Ë̶͖̳͚́̎͑͌̈͑͜ ̵̱̯̂͠Ő̴̟̎̋͌͝F̴͇̦̘̦͉̙͆̈ ̴̯̆̊̀̈́̾͘G̵̠͇͌L̴͚̈́̊A̷̢̜̦̯͌̇̎͋͝͝S̸̭͋͝S̷͙͉̖̱͛͝.̴̗̽̅”

The man removed himself from atop Maira and picked up the shard of glass as requested. His movements suggested he was doing this of free will, but his expression did not.

“S̴̬͈͂̓̀Ṭ̸̨̛̛̼̌̑Ǎ̸̡͕̈́̅́̕͝B̷̢͓̯͍͌̃́̒͒̓ ̴̱̈́͒O̴̟̱͕̺̣͌̎̔̿̈́͝U̷̩̾̏̈́͑̓͛Ṫ̷̝̦̮̣͊̍ ̷̢̨̺̼̬̂̒̅́͋̇Ỳ̸̡̡͙̬̝͊͑͠O̷̬͔͕͆͋̋̚U̶̩̰̗̟̱͂́̔͐̚R̸̨̦̱͔͕̤̈́ ̸̺̲͓͑̂̓̃̏͗Ḙ̸̡̥̊̊̒̉Y̸̥͙̹̩̼̘̒̓̀͝͝È̶̘̟́͝͝͠S̴̛͓̖͖̙͒͜.̶̯̮̆̋͋͘”

Maira gasped and covered her mouth, turning to look towards her son as the drunk man did just that. Veilos never once looked away, nor did he even blink until the man’s cries of pain and racking sobs had ceased and he lay dead on the ground. 

Eventually whatever trance he had been in faded and he looked to his mother, who briefly shared a look with Zynia before scooting herself over to her son and taking him into her arms, “Ohhh my boy. My sweet boy. You did so good, I’m so proud of you.” She eyed him over, tenderly touching his face and neck, lip quivering as she saw the dagger still protruding from his arm, “Come on, let's get ourselves fixed up.” She waved Zynia over to join them, “Someone else can take care of all this.” 

The bordello was family and they always looked out for their own.

@daily-writing-challenge

[starkspondwater]

Peer Pressure- Kyle Broflovski x Shy!Reader (fluff)

Part 1 x, Part 2 x, Part 3 x

Summary: You and Kyle have been going steady for a while, and it's been wonderful. But it seems like everyone else is doing much more than you two, is that a problem?

A/n: I originally wasn't going to write more for this series but had a wonderful request to continue it from @gaaraismyboyfriend! I wanted to time skip a bit since they're kind of already established. I also may have written this to make up for my own shitty boyfriends in hs

Warnings: none? Mention of sex and tits I guess but not smut.

Kyle was the perfect boyfriend. You were absolutely, without a doubt, sure of that.

It had been months of sweet dates, long walks, study sessions, and visits to the local park. Three lovely months where you got to know him, everything that made him the boy that gave you butterflies and so much more.

Kindness seemed to radiate from him when it came to you, always checking in and ensuring that you were doing alright. He was sweet and polite at first, just as nervous and tentative as you were, but over time began to show some of his silliness, cracking you open and loosening you up.

Small, stolen moments, a brush of the lips between classes, kisses shared grew between the two of you as you found comfort in one another. Back then you had never once imagined the two of you tangled onto his bed, lips and tongues seeking solace with each other. Of course, you still became embarrassed as whimpers and other sounds made their way out of your mouth, but Kyle only seemed to love them, pushing harder against your lips.

There was something about the way he looked at you when he pulled away, the need to breathe becoming too great to ignore. Green eyes intensely peering at you, taking in every inch of your face, so filled with affection that you felt nothing but warmth bloom.

Unfortunately, these sessions never lasted long. Steps stomp up the stairs eventually banging into Kyle’s room, revealing Ike Broflovski equipped with a wide grin.

“Ike! Out!” Kyle was always exasperated with the kid. From weird new slang to just being an annoying little boy in general, he was always at his limit. He had often told you how Ike was lucky he had you as otherwise he’d resurrect his little game of ‘don’t kick the baby.’

“Sheesh, no need to be so quick!” with a wicked glint in his eyes, Ike laughed. “It’s not like you’re getting any anyway, loser!” Slapping the door he left, leaving Kyle to flip the bird at empty space. The whole interaction wasn’t unusual, as you came to find out. It honestly would've been funny had you not already had that particular activity on your mind.

The more you got to know Kyle, the more you spent time with him, the more you were aware that he was a boy. The smell, the voice, his laughter, these things you had already known about, but always being in close proximity to him made them more distracting. 

You had heard girls in Gym talking about boyfriends and hookups, giggling filling the locker room. Stories of steamy nights in cars and love filled rendezvous had you blushing into your own little locker, little ears listening eagerly. Boys, from their talks, always seemed interested in one thing for the most part - sex. The thought of that terrified you. 

The past few weeks, the idea of it had been bouncing around in your head. Was Kyle thinking about that sort of thing? Has he already done that? What if you weren’t ready? It went on and on, filling your brain with anxiety.

Kyle never once pushed you. Never asked for anything more, or tried to sneakily maneuver his hands anywhere else. Even in the middle of making out, his hands stayed respectful, not once straying from your hips or face. You had no issue with that at all, but a small part of you wondered if maybe he did want those sorts of things…just not with you. 

___

“...and then she flashed me those nipple rings!” Kenny held up his hands, mimicking a camera shot. “I’m telling you boys, it was bee-aye-yew-ti-full!”

“I a-a-always wondered if that w-was true or just a rumor,” Jimmy snickered.  “Gotta say, you are a l-l-lucky man, Ken.”

“What can I say, tits love me!”

Kyle laughed with the rest of them, shaking his head at his close friend’s antics. Kenny’s storytelling was always prime entertainment. Out of all the guys, he seemed to have the most stories to tell, each different and full of excitement. Feeling a nudge to his side, Kyle turned.

“So, what about you and your girl, Broflovski? You’ve been going for a while now, I assume you’ve copped a feel or two.” Clyde winked at the redhead.

“Nah, we’ve been taking it slow,” which Kyle had no issue with. Once he really met you, not just the cute little version of you that gained his interest, he was hooked. Line and sinker. Hell, probably the whole boat too.

“Really? Like not even second base?” Kenny chimed in. The rest of the guys leaned in, eyes on Kyle.

“Second base? What is this, 6th grade?” Kyle gave him an incredulous look. “And you guys know her, she’s a little shy. I don’t want to rush her or anything.”

“If she’s giving you blue balls, I know Nelly’s blind enough to let you take her out.” Cartman’s voice grated his ears, anger instantaneously blossoming. 

“Shut your goddamn mouth, fat ass! I don’t have blue balls!” Stan was up in a matter of seconds, quick to intervene between the two. “And what we do is none of your business anyway!”

“Hey man, we’re not trying to start anything,” Kenny held up a hand in surrender. “You know Cartman likes to start shit. We’re all good here. Let’s just dial it back a bit. Anyway…Tolkein, how’s that one gig going?”

With the subject change, Kyle’s rage simmered. It was just like Cartman to do this, as he did with every little relationship he had growing up. Well, he liked his relationship with you just fine, he didn’t need anyone, much less fat boy, nitpicking it.

Kyle could admit that he wanted to do more with you, he was a teenage boy after all. You were soft and fit so wonderfully into him that it would be impossible not to wonder about what more you both could do. He knew exactly all the things he’d like to do, that is. However, at the end of the day he was just happy to be around you. That in and of itself made him feel luckier than any other boy at that table.

___

“Are you alright?” The worried tone Kyle’s voice took on had you quickly looking up at him. 

“Of course, why?” You knew you had been a little off lately, but around Kyle you tried your hardest to hide it. You thought you had even been doing a good job of it until now.

“Just…if something was wrong, you’d tell me?” A featherlight touch on your shoulder guided you into his bedroom as he talked.

“Of course I would.” looking into his eyes you felt nervous. Here he was being so sweet and attentive, and you couldn’t even talk to him properly about this one thing. The worry that had cemented itself inside your heart kept growing and growing, and it was getting harder to ignore.

It took no time at all for you two to tangle together, lips moving and hearts beating together. Normally your head felt fuzzy during this, the whole world going out of focus as you lost yourself in everything that was Kyle, but today you could only focus on his still hand at your hip. As if he could sense the change in you, Kyle pulled back.

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?” He squeezed your hip lightly before you felt his thumb rubbing soothing circles. “You know you can tell me anything right? You can trust me.”

You bit your lip, thinking about the weight that had been building in your chest for weeks. Hesitantly, you asked the one question that continuously had been on your mind.

“Do you…Do you not want to have sex with me?” Kyle’s eyes shot wide open.

“What do you mean? Why on earth would you even think that?” In one motion, Kyle had you both upright once more.

“It’s just, you never really push for more…I thought that meant that you…” You could feel your throat closing, emotions choking your words.

“You thought I didn’t want to.” He finished for you. With a sigh, Kyle thought for a moment. “Is that something you want to do? Because I was under the impression you were more comfortable taking things slow.”

You glanced away as heat erupted on your face. Just bringing up the subject itself made you feel strange, and to actually talk about it was worse! Gentle hands cradle your head, bringing your gaze back up.

“You know I’m fine with that, yes? I’ll go any speed you need here. I don’t care how quickly we do things, or how far we go.” Green eyes searched yours for a second, as though gauging your reaction. “I’ll tell you right now, it’s not that I don’t want to do anything, because my god I do. Please don’t doubt that. But I need you to be comfortable with the steps we take.”

“I’m not very experienced Kyle, with anything. You were my first kiss, you know?”

“Neither am I! I haven’t done much more than this.” Kyle smiled, lightly caressing your cheeks. “We can take those steps together when you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere. I just want you.” A small kiss to your nose punctuated his sentence as he finally let go of your face.

A slam of the door alerted you to the arrival of Ike, his feet already stomping up the stairs. Kyle reached over, grabbing both of your backpacks and bringing them close as he resettled himself on the bed.

“Well, it’s about time we actually do that homework,” he chuckled, looking back at you. “Are we okay?”

Everything from the past weeks seemed to melt away, making way for relief. Kyle just had a way of making you feel seen and cared for, making you feel safe. You loved him, truly loved him, and were falling more and more every time he spoke.

“I love you.” Those three words slipped past your lips before you could stop them. Kyle’s eyes were on you, wide in surprise before a grin began to overtake his features. Quick as a whip he pulled you over to him, arms wrapped around you nice and snug. Pressing his lips to your hair, he inhaled.

“I love you, so so much.” Pressing another kiss onto you, he laughed. “I’ve been thinking it for a while, but thought you might find it too soon.”

“Really?” You strained to look up at him from your position on his chest.

“Really really. Stan’s been teasing me about it for weeks.” He recalled Stan walking in on him scrolling through photos of the two of you on his phone. Kyle had been so captivated he didn’t even notice the boy looking right over his shoulder until Stan loudly proclaimed that he was ‘whipped.’

“I mean…is it too soon, you think?”

“Nuh uh, we already said it, and I plan on saying it every moment I can.” Kyle smirked to himself a bit, knowing how flustered you could get. “Starting now. I love you, I love you, I-”

“Kyle!” You buried your head into his chest, hiding the flush against him. 

_

“This is so goddamn gay you guys.” Ike lightly kicked open the door, a bag of chips crinkling in his hands.

“Ike! Out now! You should be thankful I can’t get to you you little-” Kyle jolted a bit but stayed where he was, hands cradling your sides. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the whole situation. Oh how lucky you felt at this moment, even with this small interruption.

[shipper4everships]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Day 10

~Sleepy cuddles~

Tommy returned to the break room on the second night of his 72-hour shift. This was far from his first shift, and he was used to them, but this one felt especially tough. A few unforeseen circumstances had disrupted both his and Buck’s schedules, and now they hadn’t shared a single day off together for several weeks.

All they managed to get were a few minutes for conversations when one of them was heading to their shift while the other was just returning.

With each passing day, the separation became harder. Tommy missed Evan terribly, and he knew the feeling was mutual, but there was nothing they could do about it. He also knew they would have to keep living on this schedule for a while longer, and that thought weighed heavily on his chest.

Tommy lay down on his bunk by the wall, hoping there wouldn’t be another call for at least a couple of hours so he could get some rest - just a short nap where he wouldn’t have to think about how difficult it was to fall asleep and wake up without feeling the warmth of his loved one beside him.

Buck parked the jeep near Station 217 and climbed out. He moved inside quietly, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to himself, when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice.

- Buckley? What are you doing here?!

It was Lucy, appearing out of nowhere and speaking way too loudly for nighttime, in his opinion.

- Shhh, be quiet! I don’t need you waking up the whole team. - Buck hushed her carefully.

- You didn’t answer my question. - Lucy whispered now, though she still looked extremely curious.

- Where is he? - Was all Buck responded with.

Lucy rolled her eyes and nodded toward the couches.

- In the break area. He just went there about 20 minutes ago.

Buck gave her a polite nod of thanks and walked in the indicated direction.

Lucy watched him leave and giggled. There was no way she wasn’t teasing Kinard about this later.

Buck stepped inside the room, and his gaze immediately landed on the bunk by the wall, where Tommy was peacefully sleeping. The man was lying with his back to the entrance, and Buck could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Buck quietly approached the bunk, slipping off his jacket and boots as he went. There was a little space left at the edge of the bed, so Buck carefully lowered himself down, slid under Tommy’s blanket, and gently moved closer, making sure not to wake his boyfriend.

Eventually, he even managed to wrap an arm around Tommy’s waist, pressing his chest against man’s back. Holding Tommy close, Buck closed his eyes and matched his breathing to his partner’s.

For a while, Tommy remained still, but when he tried to turn over and felt an arm on his side and the warmth of another body behind him, he woke up with a start.

- What- ?!

- Baby, it’s me, don’t worry. - Buck answered in a voice still hoarse from sleep.

- Evan? But… what are you doing here? - Tommy whispered in a groggy voice, his breath not cooperating after sleeping.

- Just finished my shift and decided to visit you. - Buck murmured into Tommy’s hair, sending light shivers across his skin. - I missed you too much.

Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. He felt the same way.

- But Cap…

- Bobby talked to your Captain - consider my visit approved. - Buck cut him off. - We’re fine as long as I don’t distract you from a call.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he let out a happy sigh. He couldn’t believe they finally had some time together.

In the darkness, Tommy found Buck’s hand and pressed it to his heart, pulling Evan even closer. Buck was more than happy to oblige.

They fell asleep peacefully, holding onto each other and listening to each other’s breathing.

Tommy managed to steal a few precious hours wrapped up in Buck’s arms before the next call came.

He couldn’t have felt better. @bucktommyfluffebruary ❤️️