#scott’s not a good person i don’t care and i’m not gonna go out of my way to go ‘oh i KNOW he’s SO HORRIBLE’ every time i talk about this

[comfycozycrossfox]

the scott pilgrim anime is dumb as fuck. i’m into it

[cupcakeslushie]

I know that Hamatos are all really confused about what happened to Donnie, but I can see April getting legitimately pissed and starting down every lead she can find to dig up the truth detective style. Because messing with people and being a bully is one thing, but manipulating and abusing someone enough to change their personality is another. And she messed with HER family. And “you’ve done it now- when I get you I swear to god-“

Not sure if April would find anything but I can see her initial reaction being frustration rather than confusion.

@starrobot96 @snipersiniora

I’m honestly leaning more towards Raph and April having the most intense reactions to what’s been done to Donnie. Raph, because he’s still dealing with his own Krang trauma. So Kendra messing with his little brother, similar to what was done to him. That’s gonna make him want to rip her apart. I don’t think he’d kill her. But Kendra is definitely not getting out of this Scott free.

Raph will more than likely be leading the charge in Donnie’s rescue, because I don’t think he would go with them willingly, and Raph’s not about to make Leo or Mikey be the one to drag Don away while he’s screaming and resisting. Raph would take that role solely onto himself.

Leo is way out of his comfort zone. During the actual search, he’s more serious than he’s been since the invasion. Thinking that everything will be okay once they can just get Donnie home. But when they do, one desperate, good-natured joke has Donnie terrified of even looking at Leo. From then on, Leo makes that distance bigger, by avoiding Donnie, scared of setting of another panic attack. Even when Donnie starts to reach out, Leo is now hesitant to say anything. That was their whole type of sibling dynamic, ribbing and joking with each other. But now Donnie is like a stranger.

Mikey really hammers away with the toxic positivity. It’s not his fault. He’s just so out of his depth. He’s not a baby, but this is intense stuff. Trauma that he always steered away from in his Dr. Feeling research. But now that knowledge is necessary…looking into it really takes a toll on his own mental well being, bad enough that Splinter sees and puts a stop to it.

April is frustrated with her own investigative ability, and feels guilty, because Kendra wouldn’t have even known about Donnie, if she hadn’t asked him to come by her school. We know, that’s more than likely NOT true, as the boys run into criminals all the time, but April isn’t thinking logically.

Im still not sure about the exact how’s of Donnie’s rescue, but April will probably be the one he latches onto most in the aftermath. The fake simulations with her, were never as bad as the ones with his brothers (ie physically painful) so even though he would be scared to talk to her, and be seen as annoying, Donnie will let her get the closest to help him. He goes from trying to desperately please Kendra, to trying to desperately please April, and it makes her insanely uncomfortable. But she doesn’t want to scare him off when he’s not giving any of them many openings to help. She has to be very careful with walking that line between helping Donnie recover, and making things worse by enabling all of Kendra’s programming.

April’s really gonna carry the brunt of Donnie’s recovery.

[hedwig221b]

“Where is he?” Stiles rumbled, glancing at each member of the pack in front of him, before settling his incinerating gaze on one person he once considered a brother. “Tell me, Scott, where is my husband?”

Stiles knew the moment it happened that something was terribly wrong. It was the middle of the night when he was woken up by a scorching hot fire, running up his entire body. It took him a full minute of panicked breathing to realize it wasn’t a nightmare, but the pain of his mate he felt through their bond. It stopped rather abruptly, but that did little to calm him.

He didn’t feel Derek. On the other end of the bond, blessedly still existing, there was no usual warmth and steady presence. There was nothing but agonizing emptiness.

Stiles knew, he felt that it was wrong to let Derek pick up their son from Beacon Hills alone. Eli whined all week that he missed his grandpa and Derek, who couldn’t for his life say ‘no’ to their son, volunteered to drive him over for a mini-vacation.

Stiles should have listened to his gut, tell his boss to fuck off and go with them.

It took one wave of a shaking hand to open the portal. He didn’t care about the magic exhaustion. He wanted his husband.

To say that BH residents were shocked to see the empty space in front of them tearing apart in a strobe of lightning…

“I couldn’t do anything,” Scott shook his head, looking up at him remorsefully. Stiles learnt long ago not to believe him.

“Papa!”

Eli.

Stiles raced to his son, who was sitting on the cold ground, reaching with both of his hands towards him. His entire face was red and wet from tears, though his eyes shined beautiful gold.

“Oh, pup,” he murmured, taking Eli into his arms. The boy put his forehead on his shoulder and sniffed silent tears. It was obvious he was in too much of a shock to tell anything — Eli clutched at his father’s back, digging into the skin with the claws, but Stiles paid them no mind.

As Stiles shushed his pup, scratching the back of his head, he looked up at Scott with murder in his eyes.

“Where is he?”

“Nogitsune,” Stiles’ father rasped. He looked almost as awful as his grandson.

“He sacrificed himself,” Scott interrupted him, clenching his jaw. “For the greater good. For the pa—“

Stiles shut him up with a growl he learnt from his husband.

“We have our own pack!”

“He helped kill the nogitsune,” Scott insisted, stepping closer, but then immediately flinching backwards at Stiles’ glare. “He died as a hero.”

Eli’s anxious and terrified breathing grew heavier.

“Shh,” Stiles muttered in his messy hair. “He didn’t die, pup, it’s alright.”

He didn’t know what the fuck happened that brought the fucking thing back, but apparently it had something to do with Derek’s disappearance.

Oh, he would never allow them to take another step in this forsaken place anymore.

“Nogitsune can’t be killed,” he grit out, taking Eli’s hands from him and standing up. “Dad, look after him. Take him to your house, make a mountain ash circle — he’s not in control yet.”

“Stiles…”

“Our bond is alive,” Stiles shouted, making everyone shut up again. “I don’t see a body, and I bet you didn’t scream, either,” he thrust an accusatory finger at the banshee, who just looked away in shame. “If I’m not back in an hour, call Kira.”

---

“Papa?”

“Yes, pup?”

Eli stomped in one place near the bedroom door, glancing nervously at Stiles. He was afraid to look at his dad’s scarred face.

“Is he gonna live?”

Stiles looked up from his husband’s burnt red skin on his torso, but didn’t stop moving his glowing golden-white hands in an intricate pattern of healing magic. Derek already looked better than fifteen minutes ago. By the morning, Derek wouldn’t feel an ounce of pain and all his scars will be gone.

“Of course,” he smiled tiredly. “You know dad’s a tough cookie.”

Eli shuffled towards the bed and fell on his knees in front of it, putting his chin on the bed. He leaned on his side, putting half of his weight on Stiles’ legs. His big eyes didn’t leave his dad’s still body.

Stiles wanted to hug his little boy so much, but it will have to wait. For now he just nudged Eli with his toes, making him look up at him.

“I’m proud of you, Eli,” he said quietly. Eli squeezed his eyes shut and put his temple against Stiles’ knee, breathing harshly. “You shifted. That’s amazing.”

“Lot of good it did,” Eli muttered. “If I was faster…”

“Nuh-uh, the guilt wagon is stopping right now,” Stiles shook his head. “Dad wouldn’t have risked taking you with him back to that inside-out place. None of this is your fault, kiddo.”

Eli sniffed.

Suddenly, Derek grunted something under his breath. All attention instantly zeroed on the wolf, both his mate and his son waiting with bated breath for another sign of consciousness. One of Derek’s hands, lying closest to the edge, moved bit by bit, until it reached Stiles’ knee.

Eli sniffed once again, then carefully took his dad’s hand, mindful of still healing burns, and put it on Stiles’ knee, then laid his head on top. Clever pup, letting his Alpha know his pack was here.

“Eli,” Derek breathed out, his eyelids fluttering.

“Shh,” Stiles shushed immediately, lightly caressing his cheek with his glowing hand. “He’s alright.”

“Stiles.”

“I’m here, love. You’re safe.”

Derek relaxed once again, falling into much needed sleep.

“See,” Stiles said with a relieved smile, looking down at Eli, who finally had some hope in his puppy eyes and a wobbly smile on his lips. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

ao3

[jamneuromain]

Hii!!! I just read A Whiff of Blood and it was amazing!!! Omg its been a while since I read Lloyd being caring without having another motive. This is pure goodness 😍

I was wondering if there could be a scene where y/n asks to leave work early bc she has a date. Lloyd says fine but ends up at the same restaurant as her with Danny to spy🤣 and y/n saw them and this will be the first time she yells at her boss. how would the boss react? falling for her even more or trying to save his dignity and ego 😎

Hi babe! So sorry that this one-shot is taking forever to come out (and I've made a little adjustment to it :3 hope you don't mind

A Rush of Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader, Lloyd is being a (surprisingly) softie(?

Summary: You asked whether you could leave early for a date, while Lloyd decided not to keep his feelings bottled up any more.

W/C: ~4.5k

A/N: This is the final sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love for Mob!Lloyd<333

Lloyd can’t help but look at your empty seat for the fifth time in a row. The boring-ass meeting for the quarterly revenue of his properties drags on, yet you haven’t returned for a while now.

Lloyd checks his watch.

It’s been fucking two minutes and forty-two seconds since you excused yourself with your phone buzzing in hand.

The ticking watch gets him more annoyed and impatient by the second. Two minutes and forty-four seconds, two minutes and forty-five seconds, two minutes and forty-six - where the heck are you?

You pick up the call as soon as you reach your desk, “Allie?”

“Hey hon. Bad news, I’m stuck at the airport. There has been a huge blizzard here in Alaska and all flights are banned from taking off.” Allie remains her chirpy sound, but a hit of restraint peeks from her words.

Allie has been your friend since high school. You’ve bonded over the mutual love of boy bands during your teen years. Though you have moved on from your love of pop singers/bands, Allie maintains her enthusiasm for K-pop idols.

“I’m in the middle of a conference, so, sorry about making this short,” you sigh, “I assume they can’t get any plane in or out for today?”

You scheduled for fine dining with Allie at one of Lloyd’s restaurants later this evening. At this rate, you are no longer surprised if he owns the Hollywood landmark too.

“Not in this damn weather, no.” She curses under her breath, “Not for three days as far as I’m aware.”

“Jesus.” You rub your temple as it is throbbing, “Sorry about the weather. I’ll reschedule the dinner.”

“No… don’t be.” Her hesitation on the phone sounds slightly suspicious.

“Allie?” You raise your voice dangerously, “What did you do?”

“Don’t be mad,” she holds a pregnant pause, “I’ve got this really cute boy – he’s a year behind us, by the way – and he’s working now in LA, Scott McCall – that’s double C in McCall, and I planned to introduce you two during dinner.”

“The fu- Allie!” You whisper-yell in the phone, “You’re gonna dump me and let me have dinner with a completely random person?”

Allie squeezes a few dry laughs over the speaker, “Eh- Sorry?”

“You better pray there’s no plane in three days because I’m going to crawl through the phone lines and strangle you if I have the chance.” You sputter a curse, “And burn all your K-pop albums.”

She gasps, “NOT THE ALBUMS!”

Typical Allie.

“Seriously though, you had the chance of meeting him two months ago... at an exhibition. The gallery downtown near the bakery? The Retro-modern Exhibition? The one you left early? It took him a lot of strength to get to me and then to you, so … just try, okay? If it doesn’t work out, it’s fine.” Allie sounds unlike her usual self, “If it works out … I guess you’d have a great story to tell your kids.” She can’t help but joke at the end.

“Yeah yeah, ha-ha, very funny.” With a sigh, you agree to her match-making plan, “Fine. But I really have to go back to work now, ‘kay?” You roll your eyes instinctively when the other end of the phone passes a squeaky “yes” to your ears, “I’ll be there on time. Dinner, six thirty, he’d better not be late.”

“You’re my life-saver. Mwah! Love ya’ bye!” After blowing a kiss via mid-air, Allie hangs up the phone as if fearing you will regret your decision in less than a second.

You end the call at the same moment the door to the conference room swings open, and out came a few executives for his real estate.

“Sorry, Mr. Hansen,” you put your phone into your pocket, straightening your shirt because you have been leaning on your desk. You know how much Lloyd hates disturbance, and creases on a shirt.

Lloyd purses his lips with a frown, an expression he wears often to indicate he’s not happy.

“If it’s okay for you, Mr. Hansen, I’d like to leave early today.” You request rather boldly.

For three years of your work as a secretary, the only other time you left early was a medical emergency of your mother. She fell down the stairs, hit her head, and had a broken femur. Though it wasn’t much of a big deal when she was transferred to a ward later, it scared the hell out of you to take the call from the local hospital, telling you your mother was sent to the ER in an ambulance.

Lloyd was generous enough to grant you a week of leave, but you got back on Day 5 after making sure your mother was well and taken care of.

“Is your family alright?” He asks, clearly still remembering the last time when you got kidnapped on the street, for which he had to assign Claire – a bright young lady, whom you’ve grown fond of over these past weeks – to act as your bodyguard and occasionally your assistant. Under Lloyd’s orders, she went to oversee the security cam installation at your apartment door.

“They are fine.” You suppose it’s better to tell him the truth regarding your leave, rather than having him meet you in his restaurant a few hours later, “I uh… have a date tonight.”

“A date?” He raises his eyebrows, repeating syllable by syllable, “A date, you say?”

“Yes, a date.” It feels like a betrayal all of a sudden, a betrayal of your work ethic. Your throat tightens, “Ahem, I’ll be leaving at five, if that’s alright with you, Mr. Hansen.”

Lloyd studies you for a moment.

“Okay.” He shrugs, sounding carelessly, “If you finish the work for today.”

You are pretty sure that there’s no more itinerary for either Hansen or you after this meeting, but you still play your role as a dutiful secretary and ask, “Anything else you would like me to do?”

“Call James and tell him to pick up the loan I gave out to the Dawson scum, five mil’ in cash or non-bearer bonds. If Dawson returns even one dime short, I want his arm broken. And deliver the drycleaning to my place by five tonight. Tell my butler, while you’re at it, he can hold off the repair down at the basement, this can wait till January. And,” he pauses, “I want you to tell Dani, head to her place personally, and tell her that I’m cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You pick up the landline straight away, ready to dial James’ number.

“You are not taking any notes whatsoever.” Lloyd narrows his eyes, “What are the tasks I just gave you?”

Lloyd seems extra grumpy today, plus you are not a note-taker anyway. You cover the speaker with your palm, though puzzled as to why he’s moody all of a sudden, but comply with his demands, “Call James, collect the debt from Dawson; get the drycleaning to your house by five, and tell your butler Marlin not to rush on the basement repair; and lastly, tell Dani you’re cancelling the Cuban appointment.” And you have no clue what this “Cuban” appointment is. Darn, Lloyd does keep a whole lot of secrets from you, “Anything else, Mr. Hansen?”

Fuck.

He sounds like fucking Cinderella’s stepmom dumping beans into the fireplace. Since when did he get off on ordering you around doing meaningless chores? He could perfectly do them himself, not to mention some of the biddings he has just told you were unnecessary – the basement repair? It was a damn doorknob getting stuck, not a pipeline that leaks like a faucet.

“Claire’s not here, take Avik with you.” He grumbles, returning to his office and slamming the door shut.

Avik is a silent, tanned man who often acts as Lloyd’s muscle. He emerges from thin air – or probably from some corner, standing rigidly behind you like a statue.

“Hey Avik, mind if I drive?” You put a warm smile on your face, swinging the car key on your finger.

Avik merely nods, gesturing that he’ll walk in front of you.

After picking up Lloyd’s drycleaning and telling Marlin the exact words from Lloyd's mouth, you head off to your next assignment.

Dani.

Dani is a woman approximately your age, speaks fluent Spanish, English, and Italian, probably a couple of other languages that you couldn’t understand too, and rumored to be Lloyd’s ex.

She is a charming lady living in a mansion away from the glamourous nightlife of LA, but not shy of parties. In fact, you’ve accompanied Lloyd to a few that she hosts, and if you ever need a party planner, she would be your No. 1 choice – if you can afford it.

You tap on the steering wheel somewhat anxiously, checking your watch. It’s five to six, and Dani’s residence is halfway across the city, and you have yet to finish the job that Lloyd told you to.

It feels like double standards when you explicitly told Allie that your date cannot be late.

Dani’s lovely butler, Mrs. Santos invited you in, leading you to the guest room.

“To what do I own this honor of having Lloyd’s personal assistant arriving at my place?” Dani flips her hair and giggles.

“Lloyd has sent me to tell you that,” you still remember the strange code phrase word by word, “He’s cancelling the Cuban appointment.”

Dani carefully studies you for a moment, before bursting out laughter, “He… He said that? The Cuban appointment?”

Darn, even when she’s laughing, she’s charming as always.

“Yes.” You answer her question, “If there’s no message you want me to forward to him, I’ll be out of your hair.”

Dani hangs a mysterious smile on the corner of her lips, her honey-toned skin practically gleaming as she speaks, “None. But if you don’t mind me asking, do you have any plans for tonight? I want to borrow you for one of my parties – you know,” she shrugs, “connections and all that.”

Dani’s parties are always filled with delightful cocktails and exquisite people she knows from all over the world. It’s a perfect chance to refresh your connections with all sorts of people – thieves, CEOs, fences, politicians - part of the reason why she asked you to stay.

Yet, you were already booked for tonight.

“Sorry,” you politely rejected, “I’d love to, but I have a date tonight.”

“Well, you-” Dani points at you with her perfectly manicured finger, sounding cheerful, “are welcome at my place, anytime. You can bring your date here even, if you need a place to chill.”

“Thank you, Dani.” You respond, “Have fun at your party.”

Dani cocks her head to the side. The bright flashy diamond earrings peek from under her hair, swaying as if they were about to fall. She hums thoughtfully before wishing you a pleasant evening.

As soon as you step out of her estate, Dani picks up her phone and dials Lloyd’s number, “I recall a certain someone claims that he needs absolutely no help landing a girl,” She twirls her hair around her fingertips, chuckling, “the Cuban appointment, Lloyd? Wow, you must be really desperate. Now, you want me to help you sabotage her date? That I can do...”

With Lady Luck by your side, you’ve successfully reached the restaurant five minutes early with someone already at your table, while Avik sits at a table on the other side of the aisle, keeping an eye on you.

“You must be Scott.” You pull your chair to sit, trying your best to ignore the bulk of muscles on your righthand-side, watching as the young man across the table hastily puts down his water glass and stands abruptly with his face flushed.

“H… Hi.” He can barely stop the grin on his face, “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Allie is right. He is cute.

Scott scratches the back of his head, plopping down on his seat, asking hesitantly, “If this is not too intrusive, how did you get a reservation? My friend has been dying to try this place for a week and the nearest spot available is three months later.”

“My boss is a close friend of the restaurant manager.” Lloyd practically runs this place. The manager gets scared shitless every time he needs to deliver the quarterly books to Lloyd and he asks you to do it in his place. Hence, he’s greatly in your debt. But you are not going to tell Scott you work for the largest gang in the city, so you feign your interest and ask, “What about you? Allie didn’t tell me what you do for a living.”

His face goes flushed pink again, “I uh… I work as an assistant curator,” he adds, “but I paint.”

“Oh really? That sounds fun. What do you paint?”

Scott chats on and on about his love for contemporary art and various ways of making a beautiful moment permanent when you notice Avik stands up and leaves.

“… sorry,” you apologize to Scott, for you have missed the question he asks, having paid too much attention to the bodyguard Avik who doesn’t seem like returning, “what was that again?”

Scott shuts his mouth momentarily before managing a small smile, “I was just thinking that we should get the waiter. Is there anything you like on the menu?”

The food was divine, and the wine was savory too. Though the waiters seemed a little distracted – you guessed it was probably their boss telling them to stay away from your table for you to enjoy your date. After exchanging pleasant conversations, you know it’s time to end this lovely date.

Before getting the check and leaving, you excuse yourself to freshen up.

Scott nods with his curls bouncing.

Scott is nice.

He is smart, funny, and cute with his untamed curls.

You put on a thin layer of lipstick. Looking into the mirror, the polite smile breaks away when you watch your reflection.

Scott is a decent guy. Why don’t you like him?

A vague outline rises in your head, before evaporating.

Stop it. You tell yourself. Scott is a nice guy. You should enjoy this date.

Only when your figure disappears behind a few tables, did someone sit on your spot.

“Evening.” A moustache man traces his finger on the cup from which you drank, crossing his legs, “Scotty, right?”

Scott clenches his hand on the arm of his chair, but Avik appears quietly behind him, grabbing his shoulders to have him sit down. A hard piece of metal is pressed to the back of his head. It doesn’t take much common sense to understand that Avik has a gun pointing at him.

“Don’t get all flustered,” Lloyd pours some wine into both glasses, “I’m just here to… be nice.” A wicked grin creeps up his lips as Lloyd continues, “The woman who you’re dating tonight?”

Scott gulps, squeezing a “yeah” out of his teeth.

“That’s my girl.” Lloyd dead-pans, massaging the light smudge of your lipstick on the glass, “So, if you have any wrong idea, or any thoughts about her…” Lloyd has a cold gleam in his eyes, shakes his head and tuts, “Don’t.”

Poor Scott has his face drained of colors. His lips quivering, “I-I’m not- I don’t want to be part of this…”

“Good.” Lloyd smirks. Drinking from your glass, he licks his lips to savour the sweet honey taste of your lipstick, before giving his final order, “Now be a good boy, say your ‘nighty night’s, and get the fuck out of my turf.”

“Boss.” Avik’s eyes dart to the lavatory, signalling that you are approaching this table.

“Aaaand that’s my cue.” Lloyd stands up from the chair, looking content, “Keep this little interaction between us, will ya’?” He pouts, “I’d hate if she gets upset.”

By the time you reach this table, Scott sweats in buckets like he has just been to a sauna.

“Is everything alright?” You can’t help but ask.

“Yeah… yeah.” Scott could barely mask his trembling voice, or keep his eye contact, “I’m … feeling uncomfortable… right now.”

“Is it the food? Do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“No… I mean, I think so. The asparagus was raw.” Scott wipes the sweat off his pale face, “It’s been lovely, but …”

Your eyes dart to the table where Avik was sitting. Nope, he isn’t there. For a second you thought that Avik might have terrorized Scott into backing out. Such a stupid idea, why would Avik do that? You throw this thought to the back of your head, before suggesting if Scott needs a lift home, or to the hospital.

Scott nearly jumps from his spot upon hearing the offer, which confuses you as he avoids speaking or looking at you, as if you were a plague.

He takes his belongings, bids you good night before sprinting out of the restaurant.

What the fuck have you done???

You trouble yourself with the question when Avik returns to your side without a single sound, “Avik, I was wondering where you’ve been.”

“The backroom where I can observe the surveillance footage, ma’am.” His voice booms, “Shall I drive you home?”

“Yes, I suppose.” You sigh.

Avik gestures for you to walk, but you stop in your tracks.

“Avik?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Did you have any food yet?”

You did not see him ordering anything when he was sitting across the aisle, nor do you believe that he’d risk losing his job over some half-cooked asparagus.

“… No Ma’am.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. The exhaustion of trying to satisfy Lloyd’s tasks and doubting whether he’s being paranoid again takes over you for so long, you seem to lose a little bit of human emotions – neglecting dutiful Avik, as a result.

“Sorry about that, Avik.” You apologize, feeling slightly better that you’ve come to your senses after a long day, “I’ll have them prepare something vegan for takeaway.”

“…thank you, Ma’am.”

Grabbing a waiter passing by, you tell him about your request, before resting on your chair.

Out of sheer boredom, you tap on your glass, scraping the lipstick smudge off the crystal-clear surface with a used napkin.

Avik coughs as if he has just choked on his own spit.

“Everything alright, Avik?”

It seems like you’ve said this for the second time tonight.

“Yes. Ahem. Yes, all is well.” Avik clears his throat uncomfortably.

“Because you can totally have tonight off. I’m more than capable of driving home myself.” You offer sweetly, expecting him to take the suggestion and leave you here.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Avik replies rigidly, his shirt collar tightening around his tanned skin as he speaks, “Thank you, but your safety is my priority.”

You should have known better than to negotiate with Lloyd’s muscle. They follow his orders like workers around a queen bee. Pursing your lips together, you decide not to spend time bargaining with Avik, but scroll on social media to distract yourself.

Avik lets out a long, slow exhale when you are focusing on your phone. He’s great at bodyguarding, but terrible at being a double agent.

The takeaway package arrives shortly – or it could be you are too tied up in the TikTok drama to notice time slipping away from the tip of your fingers. Avik takes the wheel while you sit in the back, trying hard not to think about the sudden change in Scott’s attitude.

It’s not like you don’t enjoy Scott’s company. You do. But Scott’s dashing out of the restaurant leaves a certain impression that you don’t think you’d forget anytime soon. Maybe the food was raw. Or burned. Or he had some pills. Still, it doesn’t explain why he ran out of the place like a bloodhound was chasing him.

Or is there something wrong with you? Something he’d grow repulsive of?

“Stop the car, please.” The thoughts in your head are preventing you from breathing. With Avik’s puzzled frown in the rearview mirror, you shrug, “You can go park the car. I want to have a little walk and some fresh air.”

After what must be an internal debate in Avik’s silence, he slowly stops at the curb, agreeing for you to have your fresh air.

The street is silent, not a living soul in sight. You close your eyes and breathe in the fresh air.

Oh well, maybe the air is not so fresh after all, with the smell of gasoline and dust and … smoke?

You turn around.

Lloyd’s Rolls-Royce follows you like a toddler in small steps, with a hand outstretched from the window that flicks his cigarette stub to the curb.

“Mr. Hansen?” You could’ve been dreaming. Why would Lloyd’s car follow you? Why – “What are you doing here?”

Lloyd steps out of the vehicle, popping a peppermint into his mouth. Crushing the candy with his jaw, he mumbles, “Just having a late-night stroll.”

A ridiculous idea comes into mind, and you ask in disbelief: “Are you following me?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at you straight into your eyes, but you’ve seen him lie better, “This is my turf. And you can’t ban me from patrolling my own territory.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes.

Sure. Patrolling. Very convincing. He just happened to stumble in front of your apartment building among hundreds of thousands of streets.

“Of course.” Maybe it’s the wine, because for crying out loud you would be tongue-tied if you were to say this at work, but the sarcasm drips out of your tone like water out of a broken faucet, because you are not in the mood. At all. “Good night, Mr. Hansen.”

“I had a great night.” Since he counts the scurrying of one horny young man as a win, Lloyd casually drops, “Can’t say the same about you.”

What the heck is wrong with him?

Now it’s definitely the wine that does the talking, as you poke him square in the chest with your index finger, your voice littered with fury, “It’s after-hours, and you don’t own my after-hours, in case you don’t have a watch, okay?”

Lloyd offers his characteristic lop-sided smile, “What - you’re gonna buy me one?”

“No?!” You huff out in disbelief. Has he taken hallucinating drugs? Why on earth is he acting funny? “This is not - look, Mr. Hansen-”

Lloyd steps closer. You get that whiff of smoke from his body, and the musky cologne that he occasionally uses in rare circumstances, and your words somehow get stuck in your throat.

“Lloyd.” He pronounces his name, loud and clear, “C’mon sunshine, lllllloyd.”

Lloyd. The name rolls to the tip of your tongue. It feels natural and soft, unlike Lloyd Hansen himself. But the syllable drives your heartbeat wild. He is your boss. You are obligated to call him Mr. Hansen.

Well, maybe not obligated. But you would feel more comfortable calling him Mr. Hansen. The name Lloyd sounds like an over-step of your work relationship.

Your work. Your beloved secretary job. Which is fine. Which you enjoy, as you handle his affairs with some effort. But the name. He’s asking you to call him Lloyd and that sounds more intimate than what you should be calling your boss.

“I- ” You are at a loss of words. What does he want? Does he want you to be his mistress? Which is ridiculous, because you don’t want to be the type of canary living in a birdcage and sing for him whenever he pleases. More importantly, he cannot be having thoughts about you – or does he want this to be a one-night thing where he could pull up his pants and comment on how long since he had a good fuck?

-stop it. It’s an insane thought. He’s not interested. So are you.

You accidentally look at his eyes, and you recognize the burning desire rooting deep down. It scorches you instantly as your eyes meet, before you lower your head to avoid the demanding gaze.

“You’re my boss…” You mutter weakly, knowing well that this stupid excuse does not prevent you from enjoying (or feeling safe at) Lloyd’s presence – most of the time, when he’s not bloody or throwing punches – or from the plain fact that maybe, just maybe that you feel a little different towards him, and that for the briefest of moments, you wished that he was sitting across the dinner table tonight, taking you out on a date.

Lloyd’s expression goes still for a second.

You can’t tell whether he’s mad or upset.

He sighs, taking a step towards you to close the space between you two, before framing your face in his hands and whispering in frustration, “God, you’re so dumb.”

His lips are soft, contrary to his mean words. They land on you with a bitter taste of burned tobacco, as his tongue swipes the seam of your lips, forcing an embarrassing mewl out of you.

It felt like Lloyd and his roughness. It felt like an iceberg breaking into chucks, whales lifting their head to breathe and the dam that withholds feelings inside your head cracks. It felt … right.

He slowly breaks away the kiss, sighing again, right next to your lips, his moustache making your cheek itch.

“Am I about to get a kick in the balls?” He asks softly, nose gently rubbing on yours.

“No…no.” Not that you don’t want to, because how dares he! Following you and kissing you like that! But because your head turning into a warm mush.

“Good.” He nibbles on your lips, you can feel his lips curving into a smile, “ ’cause I kinda like them.”

“Hmm?”

“Never mind.” He lands another kiss on you before pulling away. The bad-boy grin visible on his face.

You feel like you need to say something. Anything. So, you open your mouth and: “Do you want … a cup of coffee at my place?”

Lloyd cocks his eyebrows in surprise, but there’s no way he’d let slip of this chance, “Sure, why not.”

The mush in your brain refuses to leave. Your body acts on auto-pilot, leading you away from him.

You don’t even notice that he’s not following you this time, until he calls your name out of the blue, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen?”

Lloyd decides to let slip of your poor choice of words this time, simply pointing his thumb in the other direction: “Your home is this way.”

Taglist (Also tagging those who might be interested): @stargazingfangirl18 @sarahdonald87 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @magnificentsaladllama @biteofcherry @petalj @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @thezombieprostitute @yiiiikesmish @warriorblu @vonalyn @notathingjustthere @lokislady82 @irishhappiness @toozmanykids @alicedopey @cakesandtom @universitypenguin @openup-yourmind @helenaeisenhower @wilsons-striped-ties @tittittoee @bean-is-reading @yearningforsappho @esposadomd @salvatoreitmeanssaviour

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[ivysoul]

CHERRY *ੈ✩‧˚ LEON SCOTT KENNEDY — PART I. [3.3k]

༊*·˚ in which your dad leaves you under the watchful eye of his best friend, leon kennedy, when he’s away on vacation.

[♱] series warnings — age gap (38 & 20), sexual themes, arguing, cheating, overbearing father, angst. more warnings to be added.

[♱] individual chapter warnings — afab!reader, leon’s a bit of a perv, smut, dub-con, oral (m), unprotected p n v, rough sex, one spank, praise, creampie, reader has a serious attitude problem lmfao, + might be some i’m missing, so lmk if there is.

[♱] notes — this is my first ever series i am shitting my pants stop. i’m excited tho !!! smut galore btw bc i am a fucking whore !! like i’m talkin smut every chapter type beat. anyways, please give me feedback, i desire it carnally. also not proofread. special dt @ouchvns bc they were probably more excited abt this than i was LMAO.

series masterlist. ୨୧ next.

༊*·˚ You could feel the anger bubbling in your chest as you looked back and forth at your father and his friend, who you knew, of course. Leave it to your dad to get you a babysitter at your grand old age of twenty years old while he’s out on vacation. When he offered to let you stay at the house while he was away, you had no idea it would come with its own terms and conditions—those being Leon Kennedy himself.

You sighed deeply through your nose as your dad went on and on about rules. You were zoning out through the entire thing, utterly wishing you could just go back up to your room and avoid Leon as a whole (and saying goodbye to your dad. Call it petty, you didn’t care. Petty is what you were).

“Oh, and curfew is 12AM.”

Your eyes shot open so fast you were surprised they didn’t end up on the floor. Mouth falling agape, you just stared blankly at him, hoping it was just some joke and he would take it back. But nope! Classic ol’ dad!

“Are you serious? A curfew?” What you hated the most was that he looked confused as to why you were so upset. “Dad, I’m twenty years old. I don’t need a curfew or a damn babysitter,” you groaned, pointing to Leon. To which he muttered a quiet ‘ouch’.

Your dad shook his head and pursed his lips. “I’m not gonna argue with you about this. Leon’s gonna watch you for the three weeks that I’m gone, and I trust that he’ll take good care of you,” he looked to Leon, “right, Leon?”

Leon smiled at the man as he spoke. “Of course,” and then turned his head to you, his smile falling into a small smirk without even meaning to. “I’ll take very good care of her.”

Leon would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you, at least a little bit. The way your hair was long enough to frame your face perfectly, or the way your lips looked when you put your favourite gloss on them. Your clothes always seemed to fit and frame your body perfectly, allowing every curve and dip to be beautifully accentuated. But physical looks aside, Leon also loved how intelligent yet carefree you were. He loved how your personality reminded him so much of the sun—if you weren’t angry, that is. But he also loved your anger. How you made your feelings known and always spoke about what had made you so angry. Everything about you screamed to Leon that you were the most perfect person he’s ever laid his eyes upon, and every time he was around you, it only further proved to be true.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, looking anywhere but the two men in front of you. Your dad smiled and patted Leon on his shoulder before walking up to you, giving you a peck on the cheek, and bidding his farewells. As soon as the door closed behind him, the air grew thick with awkward tension. Your eyes just stared at where his body had disappeared behind the door, as if attempting to summon lasers that drop onto him from above. Leon chuckled airily and shook his head as he looked to the ground.

Your head snapped towards him, eyebrows furrowed and still angry. “What’s so funny?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Oh, nothing, y’know…” Leon looked at you and saw what type of look you had in your eye. He shouldn’t have found it amusing, really, but he did. And he laughed again.

“Yeah, I’m sure you have soooo much to laugh about, Scott,” he cringed at the use of his middle name. “I bet this whole situation is just so funny to you.”

He nodded and puckered his lips, pretending to think for a moment. “It is, yeah. And don’t call me “Scott,” it’s weird.”

“Sure thing, Scott,” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear as you walked away, heading upstairs to do god-knows-what in your room.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few days went by and Leon’s babysitting was still just as unbearable as the first.

Every time you’d go to leave the house, he’d interrogate you on where you were going, who you were going with, when you’d be back (because you had to be back), and if the place you were going to was known to be a safe area. The treatment made you feel like a kid again. You shouldn’t be mad at Leon for it, as he was just following the orders your dad had given him, but you were.

Today though, you had managed to slip out of the house without Leon noticing. Sure he had called you about ten times and left you numerous texts and voicemails, but you weren’t answering any of them. You’d even opted to turn your phone completely off.

Though you could barely even focus on what your friends were saying. Your mind was on you dad and why he would even do this. You knew he was protective of you, but when you turned twenty this year, he calmed down a bit. This was like a whole setback of six years.

“Babe? You okay?”

You turned to your boyfriend, Oliver, who had his arm securely wrapped around your waist, rubbing up and down your side. He had a look of concern on his face.

You smiled sweetly and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

One of your friends, Maeve, placed a french fry in her mouth and hummed at your question. “You looked kind of… zoned out. Like, you’re not really here right now.”

“Yeah, are you alright?” Cora, your other friend since elementary school, asked. Her brows were furrowed and she was looking across your face as if to see any hidden confessions lying underneath. She was always able to, the best out of anyone in your life.

You nodded. Sighed. And then confessed.

“Y’know that guy that my dad hired to look after me while he’s away? Well he’s been like, super overbearing. And I know it’s just because my dad told him what to do and all, but it’s still so fucking annoying. Can’t even leave the house without getting attacked with questions. And it’s—”

“Well isn’t this a surprise.”

You didn’t even have to look behind you to know who it was. Unfortunately, you were pretty well acquainted with the voice by now. How in the hell did he find you? Did he put a damn tracker on you that you were unaware of or something?

“Your dad wants you back home. C’mon.”

Your friends all sighed, Oliver squeezed your waist tighter as if to keep you seated. You turned your head to look at Leon. He had an irritated glint in his eyes, yet his kept his voice surprisingly calm.

“Are you serious? You’re taking me away from my friends now?” You complained, placing a hand on your boyfriend’s one on your side. Leon noticed it and almost let out a laugh.

“It’s not me, it’s your dad,” he said simply. “Now let’s go.”

Groaning, you looked to your friends and apologized. They all looked at you with their own apologetic gazes but said their goodbyes. And you took Oliver’s face in your hands and kissed him warmly. “Love you.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

As soon as you got inside the house, with Leon not too far behind you, you kicked your shoes off and headed for the stairs. However, his voice sternly called you back down.

“D’you know how worried he was?” His angry glare had stayed since you got into the car with him. Etched onto his face like a tattoo the entire time. “How worried I was?”

“Do you know how annoying it is to have you practically sit on me every damn day?! To have you watch my every move?”

“I’m following orders.”

“I’m so fucking sick of that excuse.”

Leon scoffed and shook his head, averting his gaze to the ground as he placed his hands on his hips. He honestly didn’t know what to say. And neither did you. You two had argued about this every day since he first arrived. And every time it would end the same way: you storming up to your room after yelling your throat raw, not to be heard or seen of again until you need to be let out of the house.

Let out. Like you were a fucking dog.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned on your heels and headed up the stairs, making sure to have your frustration shown through your heavy steps.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours went by as you scrolled aimlessly on your phone. You had already finished a book and got caught up on your favourite show, and you were now realizing just how thirsty you were. You checked the time on your phone, the big white numbers that read 3:27AM stared back at you. You weren’t even sure how you weren’t tired yet.

With a sigh, you rolled from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor with little pit-pats every time you took a step. The hallways were dark and quiet, the only light was from your phone’s flashlight as you made your way around the very familiar corners of the house. Being out of the comfort of your warm blankets made you realize just how cold you were in only an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your favourite wine coloured lacy underwear. But you didn’t care much to make your way back to your room as you were now approaching the kitchen.

The kitchen that you noticed was lit up. Turning off your mobile flashlight, you stepped closer to the kitchen cautiously and slowly. Once you saw Leon leaning against the counter, you calmed down, but your anger started to bubble up again at the same time. You weren’t sure how that was possible. He looked up at you, eyes lifting from the glass he had in his hands, and then he tilted his entire head up to look at you properly.

His eyes nearly widen when he takes in your clothes—or lack thereof. Your plush thighs on full display and your obvious lack of a bra had his head spinning. God, he was so weird. For imagining what your tits would look like out of the confines of your shirt, but at the same time he didn’t have to do much thinking. The cold made your nipples hard, and they poked through the shirt. He had to look away and hope that you didn’t notice his lingering gaze.

He cleared his throat. “What’re you doin’ up?”

You dismissed his question entirely, taking note of his glass and the liquid in it. Alcohol, of course. You reached into the cabinet to grab a glass, causing your shirt to rise up to your lower belly. Leon blinked. “Isn’t it bad to drink on the job?”

“Honestly, I think a drink or two kinda helps with your attitude.”

Again, you dismissed him. Leon knew now was probably the best time to say what he had been thinking since your last argument, the words he had been trying to come up with since getting the anger out of him. But even then, he’s not great at this. So it’s not going to be ideal.

He sighed through his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Look, I’m uh— I’m sorry about earlier,” you stopped breathing. “But you have to understand that I’m just doing what your dad told me to do—”

“—Bullshit.”

Leon blinked, unintentionally giving you the silence you needed to continue.

“Last time I checked, my dad’s not even here. You don’t have to do everything he says because he’s not here to reprimand you if you don’t. So I like I said earlier, when you were giving that same, shitty excuse, I’m sick of hearing it.”

Maybe he hadn’t chosen the best words to say, and maybe he shouldn’t be the judge of his own character in this situation, but fuck, he didn’t think he was being that much of an asshole. He could be, but he wasn’t.

“I’m trying to apologize here could you—”

“—No, because it’s just gonna be that same stupid excuse—”

Leon stopped listening then. You rambled on and on and perhaps it may have felt good for you to get things off your chest, and you probably did need it considering who your father was, it’s just that Leon couldn’t, for the life of him, get the image of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock out of his head. No matter how hard he tried.

Leon was a man of self-control. He prided himself on that, in fact. He was able to remain calm in tough situations, he kept his cool when someone was pissing him off. But you. You were a whole other story. A walking pile of anger that wouldn’t dissipate. Your attitude was sickening and the thought of being in a room with you for more than ten minutes was repugnant to him. Yet all he was thinking about right now was stuffing your mouth full. Keeping you from talking for two fucking seconds.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. The echoey sound of your voice raging on as he zoned out with the vulgar image in his mind, the vulgar image being just that; an image.

He wanted it to be a reality.

He needed it to be.

Within seconds Leon was in front of you, roughly grabbing your waist with one hand and a fistful of your hair in the other. His lips were on yours before you could even comprehend what was going on. The taste of alcohol on his tongue and the overwhelming feeling of him took over your mind. Like a dark storm that hovered over the bright fields of good decisions and common sense. It rained down faster than it ever had, and now, all you could think about was Leon.

All the anger, all the detest, it lingered and mixed with need. For Leon, it was the same. The feeling of your chest pressed against his upper abdomen drove him insane. He could feel your pert nipples through both your shirts. He wanted to ravish you right then and there.

His hand on your waist travelled lower to your ass, groping the flesh harshly.

“‘M so—fucking—tired—of—your—attitude,” his sentence was broken into single words because neither of you could keep your mouths apart for long.

Until he finally managed to part from you. Your mouth, at least. Because your neck was the next place to get attacked. He placed wet, open-mouthed kisses from your pulse point to the base of your neck and trailed his tongue across your jawline.

“Leon,” he ignored you. “Leon—”

“—Shut up.” With two of his hands on your shoulders, you were on your knees within a blink of an eye, looking up at him as he looked down at you. The cold smirk he held on his face sent shivers up your spine. “Gonna fill your mouth, fuck the attitude outta you.”

Leon pushed down his sweatpants and boxers swiftly, revealing his hard cock. He grabbed it at the base, tapping his red, leaky tip on your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. Once you did, he didn’t give you time to take things slow as he shoved his cock into your mouth all at once. His tip hit the back of your throat and made you gag momentarily.

He groaned loudly at the feeling and made a makeshift ponytail with his hand at the back of your head, moving your head and using your mouth to his liking.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Y’got such a perfect little mouth. Shame you use more to talk than to do this.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, falling over and running down your flushed cheeks. The noises that were made were obscene but it only spurred you on. You could feel the wetness pooling in your panties pretty quickly.

You could tell Leon was getting close eventually. His breaths picked up and small little whimpers fell over his lips. His cock twitched in your mouth and you prepared yourself to take his cum down your throat, but he pulled you off of him before that could happen.

“‘M gonna fuck you now,” he groaned. “Gonna ruin this little cunt, yeah?”

He lifted you up off your knees before bending you over the counter. You heard a ripping noise and you knew he just ripped your damn underwear off. You wanted to be mad at him for that, but you found the words you were going to say leaving your head when he ran his cock up and down your slit, rubbing briefly against your clit.

Then he pushed in, fully sheathing himself within you in one thrust. You screamed out, the pain and the pleasure mixing together to create something so intoxicating. He was kind this time though, and stayed still so you could adjust to his thick size.

Before long, you were pushing back against him as a way to signal him to move, and of course he obliged. He began a brutal pace right away, completely forgetting to build up to it.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good f’me,” he breathed, delivering a hard smack to your ass and watching the red hand print form in its wake. You yelped at the action.

You loved how he was rougher with you. It’s what you wanted from Oliver in bed, and you’d even brought it up to him, but he was heavily against it. He was too soft with you, but Leon, the only thing soft about him were his words. It was a good balance that had you reeling.

Moan after moan and whine after whine left your mouth as you neared your release embarrassingly quickly. It was almost like Leon knew (he did), because his thrusts got deeper, rougher. The tip of cock reached your cervix and within seconds you were clamping down on him, walls spasming and body shaking uncontrollably.

“There y’go, sweets. Feels good, huh?” He was after his own release now, which wasn’t that far behind. His hips moved quickly and his hands were harshly gripping your hips, sure to leave bruises there by the morning. “I’m so close, baby. Gonna milk me dry, huh? Gonna have me cum in you? Fill you up? Yeah. Yeah, ‘m gonna fill you up nice and full. Send you t’bed with my cum still dripping outta you.”

“Please! P-Please, Leon. Need it s’bad.”

He stayed true to his word. His orgasm crashed through him like a wave, he spilled into you as he shoved himself as deep as he could go. He’s never came as much as he did then, or moaned the way he did. When he pulled out, hissing from the sensitivity, his spend mixed with yours pooled out of you almost immediately, dripping onto the floor.

With a soft chuckle and a shake of his head, he grabbed some paper towel and wet it to clean you up. When he ran it over your cunt, you jolted slightly.

“Just cleanin’ you up, hun. Don’t worry,” he grimaced at your ripped underwear on the floor, now puzzled as to what to put on you, before his mind went to his boxers that sat next to the ripped underwear.

He carried you back to your bed after he got you cleaned up, redressed, and gave you some water. You sleepily smiled up at him with your head on your pillow. “For an asshole, you really know how to make a woman feel good.”

He reciprocated your smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Get some sleep, angel.”

☆ — © saintlulls, 2023 - don’t repost, translate, copy, or claim.

[venear-tmblr]

…. so i’ve had an idea

C!Ven FableSMP In-Character Smash or Pass

Today we reject canon and embrace non-canom ships like it’s the 2000’s-10’s again. Let us begin heheheh (also im sticking to masc leaning characters because c!Ven likes 🅱️oys.)

Aax

5/10: Pass

I don’t think they’d be bad for each other, I just think Ven would feel out of his depth yk? Their communication type wouldn’t clash badly, they’d both be able to argue without killing one another, but they just dont click?

I just think Ven would be intimidated? and that should be a dealbreaker in any relationship.

Caspian

6/10: Smash

Caspian would be the cool ex that you still see sometimes in random places, and you stop for 10-15 min to see how he’s doing, before you both leave and forget about each other again.

Cas would keep Ven’s bossy streak in check, and they’d sort out their problems together well. They have aligning interests in knowledge and writing, and overall they’d work.

they actually seem like the kind of couple to fall out of love with each other? which is very sad to me ;-;

They’d care about each other a lot i think, in a Scott’s Street by Phoebe Bridgers kinda way

Centross

7/10: Smash

… there’s only room for one self-sacrificing idiot in this relationship.

Opposite of Rae; Centross is Ven’s type, personality-wise. Also Centross does the love-bickering thing that Ven and Feng would do. They communicate well, they’d argue healthily, over all they’d be pretty good tbh. The sleep schedule between the two of them would be bad though, Ven would forget to stop work and Centross would do the same, they’d forget to check in with each other.

Rae

3/10: Pass (edit, was 2/10 but i raised it by 1 for Zenni the beloved)

you already know what i’m gonna say about these goobers. they’re terrible for each other

the interesting thing to me; there’s only two reasons for Ven to date Rae. 1) they’re young, and social norms say you should date someone similar to you. So both Vena and Rae would go “he likes what i like” and call it a day. OR 2) Rae would be a rebound for Ven. neither of which can happen in canon. (i love the band au blorbos <3)

Seven

4/10: Pass

they wouldn’t be bad, Ven just wouldn’t know how to approach Seven? Seven has so much going in, and Ven would need to know every detail about Seven’s past in order to feel comfortable in the relationship. Seven can’t really give that, so the relationship is over before it’s begun.

Ulysses

7/10: Smash

Similar to Caspian, they’d get along, they’d be good exes. Ven would learn a lot academically from Ulysses.

bonus point because this fish sounds aussie and that is important to me ok

Will

4/10: Pass

Based on the emotional reactions seen in the spy arc of S2, I don’t think these two would get along. i actually think Ven would get on Will’s nerves in close proximity, if he were to open up and let Will in emotionally. Not that it’d be Will’s fault, they just clash. They would have common interests though, so all wouldn’t be lost.

Will would speak his mind, whilst Ven clams up and avoids conflict, but they’d get around to communicating eventually. (so they’re def not the worst pairing on this list.)

Wolf

…9/10: Smash

ok hear me out, you haven’t seen the half of it in canon yet, but these two work well. They have a lot in common (that i can’t share yet)

they argue so well, maybe even better than Feng and Ven did. Where Feng would speak up with Ven, Wolf sits and listens and waits.

Wolf is Ven’s type physically,tall with long hair and broad shoulders, and comes close to his type in personality.

nodders they should kiss

…So in conclusion; Let Ven join Wolftross, its time for Wolventross throuple takover

[erosmutt]

hi loveee! I don’t know if you currently take requests but I had this idea in my head for quite a long time now. It may be a little bit kinky so I’m just warning you😭 The idea is that Clay (cuz we all love him lets be honest) and Preg!Reader are like all day at home and Clay lays in bed all day cuz he just been thru some surgeries yk and the reader like cares about him obviously and Clay like gets fed up that she keeps wearing these tight short dresses at home cuz its summer and she likes to show off her bump🤗 and one night he has all of these dirty toughts about her colliding. He wakes her up from her dreams with a kiss and its just like nasty disrespectful sex ☺️ I would totally understand if you wouldn’t like to write it and its absolutely alright. Thank you if you write this honey and take your time!💗💗

THIS ASK IS FROM JUNE 28TH. i am SO sorry, i started working on it and it sat in my drafts </3 ugh i fucking love clay, and thankkkkk youuuuu for giving me an ask that's someone other than scott/sam! i adore my boys, but give the others some love! also... the summer dress + baby bump combo... hnnghgh

also i'm saur sorry this sucks. it's because i'm hurriedly writing it (i'm writing this over a span of like a week LMFAO) and i usually have to let the ask marinate in my mental file cabinet before i can really give the person that requested a good drabble they asked for :(

"you've been in here all morning, just what are you making?" your fiance asks, smiling brightly. he comes into the kitchen and sees a shit ton of baking ingredients all over the place. "honey, hey,"

clay stops in his tracks when he sees... muffins. many, many muffins. on the counters, on the kitchen island, and you were spooning batter into a previously used muffin tin. "my love," he says warily, coming up and resting a hand on your lower back, giving a gentle massage to the area. "are we hosting a party i didn't know about? is there a bake sale going on? we don't have to worry about bake sales for awhile, you know. just what are you doing?"

you didn't know, and he didn't know, but you were nesting. not unusual since your due date was just under a month away, but it normally consisted of cleaning and organizing and decorating - not making enough muffins to feed a small town.

"muffins," you say, shaking the batter remnants into the last cup. you turn and look up at him, a bright, stupid smile on your face. "have one!" picking up a muffin and taking the liner off it, you waddle towards clay, and you offer him the baked good. "here!"

clay looks down at the muffin and takes it, then takes a bite and hums happily. "it's good honey, but what's the occasion?" he reaches down and presses his hand to your swollen belly, then gives it some rubs. "just in the mood for muffins, huh?"

you nod eagerly, then lean forward and kiss his cheek. "can you make strawberry muffins the way you make blueberry muffins?" you ask him curiously, not minding the way he pulls you in and turns you around to face the counter. "i'm sure. by the way, you look very cute this morning." he murmurs, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your neck. "thank you." you respond softly, removing the remaining muffins from the tin.

"i never thought you would wear this dress." he continues, coaxing you to bend over the counter. but much to his dismay, you stand straight and make your way over to the fridge to put the container of muffins that had cooled away. clay sighs and rubs his brow, his stiffening cock not calming down for the foreseeable future.

"'m gonna go lay down, my back hurts." you tell him, walking past him to go to the bedroom. once you were out of his sight, he leaned back against the wall and rubbed his palm over his boner. "fuck."

it had been a handful of hours when clay made his way to the bedroom to check on you, your dress ridden up, an indication of your struggle to find a comfortable position to sleep in. "love," he calls softly, his hand coming to gently grip your bicep. "you won't sleep tonight if you keep napping so late my love."

you stir awake, a soft whine leaving you as you turn over (after some struggle, due to your tummy), eyes opening to see clay. "hi." you smile, and he takes your hands, helping you sit up. "you looked peaceful, but you had to get up." he chuckles, then cups your face with one hand and rubs your rosy cheek with his thumb. his eyes flicker down to your chest, then back up to your face. "you looked lovely today."

his poor attempt at seduction was clearly working, since you pressed your thighs together and looked down at his crotch. the tent being pitched surely didn't go ignored. your hand moves to his clothed dick and begins to rub, a smile gracing your lips. "you were trying to tell me this earlier, weren't you?"

clay nods and hurries to undo his slacks, freeing his cock that greeted you with a twitch. "i didn't want to be so desperate," he shudders as you maneuver yourself onto your back, tugging your dress up. he immediately gets between your legs, his tip teasing your clothed pussy. "because you're gonna have this baby any day now," he goes on, pulling your panties aside. "and i don't want to hurt you, love."

he guides his dick into you and moans, eyes rolling back as he bottoms out inside your warm heat. "gods," he whispers. "i don't think i could wait any longer." clay begins rocking his hips, the motion making your full tits bounce, your hands coming to rest on your belly. "clay, you don't have to be so gentle," you whine. "i want you to fuck me."

clay swallows down the paranoia and begins to thrust harder, grunting with each smack of his balls against your ass. "ughn- shit," he curses, much to your surprise. he tried not to, to keep up appearances. "have you always b- hhugh -een this tight?" he asks, nearly in disbelief. you giggle, your gaze fixed on his face, expression displaying immense pleasure. "i guess so."

he leaned down and put his hands on either side of you then began to thrust harder as opposed to faster, brows furrowed. barely five minutes in and he was already about to cum. "love, please," clay falters for a second, his hand going over his chest. right before you could stop him, he came inside you with a drawled moan, eyes fluttering closed. "oh..."

you, as quickly as you can, have him pull out and lay down next to you. "babes, are you okay?!" you put your hand over his, eyes filled with fear. "you shouldn't have-" "i'm fine," he mutters between catching his breath. "it was amazing, my heart was racing." you blink at him, then gently pat his hand. "yeah, it does that when you're excited." you giggle. "rest, clay."

[pyr0man1c]

Obey me reactions to me randomly throwing up at 2 AM (based on true events)

This has actually happened, basically I wasn’t feeling well before bed so I went to sleep hoping it would go away, it definitely went away after I woke up and immediately threw up all over me and my floor!

⚠️emetophobia warning (vomit and sickness mentions, gross shit basically.)⚠️

!Platonic!

Not a reader.

Lucifer

•Well this is great.

•Scott please he can’t handle anymore stressors..

•”What do you mean the “I should’ve gotten the puke bowl”? That’s disgusting.”

•Like the mom older brother he is he knows how to deal with sickness and injury.

•he’d help get clean clothes, and get a shower ready before cleaning the mess, changing the bed sheets and making sure everything is in order.

•10/10 handles it well.

Mammon

•Might throw up too.

•What do you want him to do!?

•”The…the “puke bowl?” What the hell are ya talkin about?”

•Bothers Lucifer for help.

•Probably stands there awkwardly but tries to help with smaller thing like retrieving supplies Lucifer made him get.

•6/10 not the best, not the worst, handled it like a champ.

Leviathan

•What to you-AH WHAT THE FUCK!?

•gags immediately.

•”DONT CARE ABOUT THE PUKE BOWL JUST STAY WHERE YOU ARE!”

•BACK! BACK I SAY!!! stay in that doorway heathen!

•Calls Lucifer in a panic as I’m just kinda 🧍‍♂️“Levi I frew up.”

•doesn’t really do much to help in the cleaning up process but seems like the after help person, like playing games and stuff with me.

•5/10 not the best help wise but games are nice.

Satan

•Well that’s not good.

•One of the calmer one out of his brothers.

•”The puke bowl sounds disgusting can I help you clean up now?”

•Researches how to clean vomit and what I can safely eat or drink.

•Very helpful, just like his mother he is one of the better help options.

•10/10 solid choice.

Asmo

•why are you ruining his beauty sleep?OH MY…OH oh…disgusting..back off let him call Lucifer, one moment.

•”Lucifer help, Scott came into my room with vomit on him while sobbing, help he said he should’ve got a “puke bowl”what even is that?”

•Not touching that, not cleaning it, sorry.

•He’d wait for Lucifer to finish the cleaning and then bring some care stuff into the room to give a late night álef care session.

•6/10 Not helpful cleaning wise but the self care is fun.

Beelzebub

•Is that food..well not from today at least.

•Probably has cared for Belphie while sick before and knows some care stuff, not the best with cleaning it up.

•”the puke bowl?…that’s not good.”

•who ya gonna call?…Lu-ci-fer!

•Lucifer is cleaning up the bed and mess while Beelzebub is cleaning me up and getting some safe snacks to eat.

•10/10 best boy.

Belphie

•it’s 2am what are you doing…now i know what you’re doing.

•stares at you awkwardly as he lays there and I just stand there.

•”The puke bowl sounds horrendous, go bother Lucifer.”

•Won’t do much unless bothered enough for it, even then most he’d do is go bother Lucifer for me and fuck off.

•Not gonna clean shit, do it yourself.

•might chill out in the clean bed while I’m trying to clean myself up.

• 2/10 thanks for getting Lucifer ig.

Diavolo

•what’s the commotion in the guest room?…oh!…

…….

Barbatos help!

•He should’ve noticed the guest wasn’t feeling well! Why didn’t you let him know?

•”puke..bowl? Is that a human tradition?…wait why are you sobbing, please, it’s not a big deal!”

•Hasn’t had to clean up anything really big, mainly had it done for him so he’s feels very unhelpful just making Barbatos do it.

•When Barbatos is busy with something else Diavolo might check up on you or help retrieve clean clothes.

•10/10 absolute sweetheart, handles it like a champ.

Barbatos

•Why are you wandering so late? Oh, no no don’t cry it’s not a bother.

•Immediately starts helping with all he can.

•”The…excuse me the what bowl. That’s not very pleasant sounding.”

•Cleaning, helping, food, everything he’s got it, absolute sweetheart it’s shocking he’s even a demon.

•stays to help making sure everything is comfortable and okay.

•too good for scale.

Simeon

•Why do I hear water running at 2am?…no no no! Don’t cry it’s okay!

•Had helped Luke many times with illness.

•”the puke bowl doesn’t sound too pleasant, will you take this medicine please?”

•Quickly but efficiently grabbing supplies and cleaning up, making sure everything is in order.

•Amazing, best father help ever!

•Also too good for the scale.

Luke

•Why do I hear sobbing out here?

……..

Simeon…help!

•panicky at first, aggressively gently shakes Simeon awake while trying to explain what’s happening.

•”Why are you talking about a puke bowl that sounds really gross..”

•helps Simeon set up clean sheets, clean stuff, get supplies, try to stop me from sobbing because I won’t stop sobbing.

•My amazing son.

•10/10 bestest boy

Solomon(derogatory)

•I just wanted a late night snack:(

•just kinda stands there before fucking off and either getting Simeon or a towel.

•”Your definitely should’ve gotten a puke bowl.”

•Kinda helps? He gets clean sheets and uses wizardry shit or smth so he’s doing something.

•will try and offer food but throwing up my stomach sounds more fun.

•3/10 he did something I guess.

[total-feminism-takes]

Yeah yeah tdi writers when it comes to female characters could be better but can we please focus on the fandom? Y’all have no excuse as to how you treat these characters!!!

Hello some of the best written and intriguing characters are female, some of the best dynamics include females but y’all are too busy with your male characters and male ships and your internalised misogyny I mean what who said that???

But fr to go onto some of my most hated things in the fandom because I’m in a whingey mood and want to complain and this blog is great if it’s okay I’m gonna dump these here;

Courtney haters need to SHUT UPPPPPPP!!!! I don’t care if you think she’s badly written she’s not and especially not for tdi standards y’all just want to complain about an interesting female character there’s sooo much to her you can just dig into it’s delicious I love her!! And yet she’s still antagonised by the fandom??? I’m not gonna act like she did no wrong and wasn’t the villain because hello did we see action but it’s more nuanced that her being annoying and evil! Y’all just need to look at her more!!!

Svetlana is ALWAYS neglected by the tdi fandom hello she’s one of the alters we see the most yet everyone hates her!! Why!! She’s not my favourite sure I prefer Vito, Manitoba and maybe Mal maybe but come on! She’s a part of the gang too stop ignoring her!!!

People who hc male characters as misogynistic are icky stop itttttt!!! It’s not fun!!!! I have more to talk about this later but I hateee when people say that male characters are misogynistic when either they’re clearly not or they make such a deal of it cough Ezekiel. I’m fine with it being a joke once again I will make fun of Ezekiel till the day I die but when people low-key make the male characters misogynistic it’s like why! Especially when it’s male fans sorry had to be said.

Can we please not ignore platonic male and female friendships pretty please!!!!! We saw how many of the male and male friendships were fake and caved in on themselves we saw the downfall of the guys alliance why do we act like it’s only the females?? I swear the male and female friendships are the only normal ones in the show bar like Gwen and Duncan because they had to do that but hello we all love a bit of DJ and Heather why do we act like we don’t???

The way tdi fans treat the male x male relationships compared to the female x female relationships is soo gross leave them alone please! They can be just as good!!! You don’t believe me well gwourtney has just as much potential as any male x male relationship but y’all don’t want to hear that! And they’re all so fun hello?? Mkulia did more for the homosexuals than anything pride ever did (jokes). Also you can have your toxic yuri like you have your toxic yaoi y’all just can’t understand that there isn’t as critical of a difference between females and men as you like to act there is oops sorry

The way y’all treat Dawn… sighs. She’s not some cute little garden fairy especially not after tdi she definitely doxxes people on Reddit if they’ve wronged her she definitely leaked Scott’s ip address after tdi. Like yeah she’s nice and a good person and likes animals but let her have fun too please

The way roti fans treat zoey is despicable. They treat her either likes she’s the devil and evil and poor little Mike zoey is so hypocritical and evil and mean, or they treat her like she’s a two dimensional piece of cardboard. Didn’t want to say this but she had some of if not the funniest lines in roti. Yeah she sucked in AS but everyone did and im predicting people treated her like this before AS even came out.

Uh TL;DR treat the female characters like how you treat the males please they’re not that different you just hate women.

Uh take this all with a pinch of salt if you do any of this you don’t hate women im just being hyperbolic but there is clearly some issues with the way you view women if you do any of this. Sorry it’s true I’m sending anonymously because I fear this will strike a nerve.

❤️

[pattypanini]

Lay All Your Love On Me

Chapter 3- Cockblocked

Josh Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 2,729  (NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE A LONG ONE I PROMISE)

AN: Hi everyone! Here is the third chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! Thank you so much for all the support on our last two chapters. Here is the taglist incase anyone wants to be added to it: TAGLIST. We hope you enjoy chapter 3, Cockblocked.

Next chapter coming Thursday!

Warnings: 18+, Angst, Flirting, Cursing, Hickeys, Masturbation, Nudes, Sexting.

JOSH’S POV

Fucking dammit Jake. He's the stupidest person you've ever met. You ask him to do one thing and he can’t even do that right.

You grab your phone to text Jake to make him aware of the night he just ruined.

9:47pm Josh: You can come back now since you just blew that all up into shit.

9:47pm Jake: I forgot, don’t be an ass. 

You had been so close to getting what you wanted. Since Freshman year you couldn't stop fantasizing about her, and hearing about what she does with other guys just made it worse. It struck a nerve and made you jealous beyond belief.

Shortly after Jake’s text, you hear the door creak open again.

“Are you fucking braindead Jake, I asked you to do one fucking thing and you can’t even remember to do that!”

“I fucking forgot Josh. It's not my problem you can’t make moves on her anywhere else than a secluded room with just her. Maybe man up and try to talk to her for once like a normal fucking person and not act like you hate her or something.” Jake spat back at you.

You sat there and thought about it. You never really did make the effort to reach out before this show. She was just someone you admired from afar, never thinking of the idea of anything more.

“Because once this musical is over she’s no longer ‘yours’ and I’m not wasting any time to get what I want. You’ll be the one to go over to ‘Scott’s’ house, bud.” 

You could kill him. He knows your attraction to her and although you may be considered the more outgoing twin, Jake is persistent and has drive. He’ll do what he needs to to get what he wants.

You get off the couch and furiously walk to your room, slamming the door while you’re at it. You open your phone to see if y/n had texted you, but nothing. 

Did she get home safe? 

You needed to know, but couldn’t seem too desperate for the answer. If the night would have ended right you could have walked her back. 

You consider it for a moment. She’s probably fine, plus why do you care? She probably fucks someone and walks back alone at night all the time. She would definitely text you if something was wrong and she hasn’t texted so…

The night left you unsatisfied, needing more. But you were so angry you didn’t have it in you to finish the job yourself. That didn’t stop you from thinking about everything that had just happened though.

How sexy she looked in those shorts. She knows she gets a rise out of guys everytime she wears them, fucking slut. 

And the nerve to show up with no bra, teasing you knowing that she would get something out of the night. But you didn’t mind, she looked so fucking hot without anything on top. God, you wished everything was off. 

With the feeling of her grinding back and forth on your dick, you wanted to show her how good you could make her feel. Make her cum so hard, like no “one night stand” could ever do. 

That night you fell asleep thinking about her, dreaming about what could have happened. And you'd be damned if you don’t finish the job soon. 

y/n’s POV

“Fuck Josh, yes just like that. Harder!!!” You whine into his ear, nails scratching down his back. 

Josh is standing above you, pounding in and out senselessly. 

“You like that, y/n? Like the little whore you are. You're my slut, my little cum slut aren’t you?”

“OH MY GOD, JOSH I’M GONNA CUM, DON'T STOP!”

You shoot up in your bed with disappointment, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead. That was weird. 

Why are you dreaming about him, especially after last night? You had left his house pissed. Knowing he arranged the entire thing to get Jake out of the house. And for him to not even text to see if you got back?

He was probably too busy scheming the next ‘hangout’ the two of you would have and how Jake would be going to Thomas’s dorm, or would it be Bob’s? It wouldn’t matter because it's bound to change.

When you got back last night your mind was filled with so many mixed emotions. You were pissed, for obvious reasons, but kind of honored? He made up a whole plan to get Jake out of the house so he could have you all to himself. 

I guess that's what pussy deprivation does to a man.

You think about texting him. Letting him know how much of an ass he was last night, but right now all you could think about is how good he made you feel. He was passionate and hot. Something you never thought you’d be admitting about Josh. 

You get up from bed and head to the shower. While walking there you check your phone. 12:17pm? Jeez. You were tired from yesterday so you woke up later than usual.

You close the door and begin to strip from your pajamas. Holy shit. You were covered in hickeys from last night. You hadn't realized how rough he was on you, but you didn’t mind. The dark purple looks good against your skin.

As you step into the shower you replay last night in your mind over and over as you go through your routine. Stepping out of the shower your skin felt hot and looked pink, making you feel a certain way. 

You grab your towel and retreat back into your room. You turn on your lights to your room and close the blinds, filling the room with artificial light. You caught yourself staring in the mirror once again fascinated by the hickeys adorning your neck and chest, that's when it hits you.  

Josh shouldn’t be the only one allowed to play games. You let your towel hit the floor and open the camera app on your phone. You begin posing until you find the perfect pose. You hold your phone horizontally in your left hand, showing off your bare chest and cutting off right below your nose. 

You take your right arm and wrap it in front of your chest, covering your nipples and grabbing your boob in your right hand. You pull your hand in, creating a little extra cleavage, and finishing it off by opening your mouth just slighting. 

You snap a few photos before checking them over to find the perfect one. After selecting it you open your messages and intentionally click on Josh’s name. 

You add the picture along with a little note.

12:48pm y/n: *Attachment:1 image* Been thinking about you lately, can’t wait to see you again😘

You send your text and wait a moment to drive your plan home.

12:49pm y/n: Wasn’t meant for you but you can enjoy it, I guess. 

That was sure to send him into a spiral. Now you sit and wait for it to all unravel. 

JOSH’s POV

You hate doing the fucking dishes, especially when most of them are Jakes. Music helps you get through them though. You were getting tired of the current song that was on so you skipped to the next song, Kiss Me Thru The Phone started playing. As you close out of Apple Music, a notification pops up on your phone.

12:48pm y/n: *Attachment:1 image* Been thinking about you lately, can’t wait to see you again😘

Your eyes widen and jaw drops at the sight of the image. 

It's her, covering her tits, hair wet draping over her collarbones, and mouth slightly open. The sight alone is enough to make you cum. 

There is a second text underneath that you did not see. 

12:49pm y/n: Wasn’t meant for you but you can enjoy it, I guess. 

No fucking way. This has to be a joke. She’s gotta be fucking with you. 

You take a look again. Her hickeys from last night were on full display. She’s a slut, but she's not a big enough slut to be showcasing them to another guy who didn't make them. You know it was for you. 

Your dick was pressing hard against your plaid pajama pants, you knew you needed a release. Between this and last night it was much needed. 

You head to your room down the hall, checking to see if Jake had left yet for his study group, luckily he did. You close the door for safe measures and lay down on your bed. You open your messages to it again, god she's so hot. 

Her mouth, you need her mouth wrapped around your cock. Shoved deep down her throat, leaving her gagging for air. 

You pull your pants down enough to release your length letting it slap against your abs. 

Your tip is shining, glazed with pre-cum. You grab some lotion and begin to pump up and down, picking up the pace slowly. You stare at the photo, imagining what else could have happened if your cock-block of a brother hadn’t forgotten to not be at the house. I bet he did it on purpose, always having to ruin every moment. But you weren’t gonna let him infiltrate your mind during this moment.

You stare at her chest, seeing the marks that you made last night. When she was screaming your name, rocking back and forth on your cock. You pick up the pace, and begin rubbing your tip. You were so close, about to tip over the edge, the only thing it took was one simple thing she said last night that you’ve been thinking about since.

“Want more of a taste?”

With that you came hard, feeling the warm fluids hit your stomach. Breathing heavy you’re brought back to reality. You look down and see the mess you just made. She’s gotta know.

You open your camera and snap a photo, holding your dick up and abs painted with your cum.

1:15pm Josh: *Attachment:1 image* I know it was for me mama, you don’t have to lie. You’ll be the next one to make me cum tho, see you tomorrow. 

With that you left it as it was, and planned on not talking until tomorrow during practice. Leaving her waiting and wanting more.

Y/n’s POV

To your surprise, Josh had caught on to your little game. But you were also left with a little present.

A little larger than most of the guys you’ve been with. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think anything would be sent back. You almost expected it, especially coming from an attention seeking whore like him. 

It made you want more from him. You wanted so badly to suck on his cock and make him cum in your mouth, swallowing down his fluids. You knew you couldn't give him the reaction he was hoping for. So all you did was ‘Heart’ the image. You thought about leaving a ‘HaHa’ on the photo but thought that would be too far.

You throw your phone onto your bed and pick out your clothing for the afternoon, since you and Charlotte would be staying in for the night. Some comfy lounge pants and a tank top were perfect for the occasion. You walk out to the living room to see Charlotte sprawled out on the couch, with Victorious pulled up on the tv. She was scrolling on her phone patiently waiting for you to join her. 

She looks up from her phone. “Finallyyy.” You roll your eyes and smile. You crash onto the couch beside her. 

“What was taking you so long you've been out of the shower for a while now?”

“Uh- umm, just looking for these pants, they were in my laundry pile that I never put away.”

She laughs and grabs the remote to start the next episode but immediately turns to you.

“So tell me everything about last night.” She says with a mischievous smile, wiggling her auburn eyebrows at you that match her thick, curly hair. 

You giggle a little, thinking of maybe not sharing all the details, but fall under pressure to her convincing eyes. 

“Okay, fine. So I went over there, late, because I got caught up talking with you!” You and her snicker to each other.

“But when I went to open the door it was Jake, and there was kind of, I don’t know, tension. Like he winked at me, Char.” Your eyes widen a little, recalling the events of last night. 

“He’s so hot y/n, if things don’t work out with Josh I know which direction you should be heading.” She says with a smirk.

You punch her in the stomach. “Charrrr, stopp! It's not like that, besides I’m probably just overthinking it. Anyways, I went in and Josh was in a shitty mood because I was late. So, we went into the living room and started the movie. As it went on I was kinda stretching out, innocently, but then he kinda grabbed my ankle and was rubbing my leg. Obviously I wasn’t going to stop him, and then he kept going further and further up until he was practically in my shorts.”

“Omg he wants you so bad y/n.” You could tell Charlotte was loving every bit of this, she was such a great friend, always so supportive and interested in what you’ve got going on. 

“Okay well… it only gets worse. He then PICKS up my legs and PLACES them on his thighs. After that I decided that it was time to make a move. So I got up and he pulled me down onto his lap. So I was straddling him and things got a little… you know.” You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. 

“This is crazy, then what happened?”

“Well he was about to go down on me, and then fucking jake WALKS in on us.”

“WHAT, did he see anything?” Her eyes widen, jaw slightly ajar. 

“I don't think so, he turned away and left right after. But the thing is, he said he was going to Ben’s house after Josh said he was going to Scott’s.”

“So? He just messed up the names?”

“No, he didn’t. Josh obviously just wanted him out of the house so it was just him and I. Plus Jake was stuttering and forgetting where he was supposed to be. It was all planned, but it’s okay because I got a little something out of it.”

“Yeah I can see y/n.” She looks down to your chest smirking at your hickeys on full display.

You definitely were going to have to have a real shirt on tomorrow. “Whatever, let’s not think about him right now though, we have all our work done for the week, so let's just open a bottle and have a good night.” You smile at her, grabbing her hands into yours. 

“YES! I’ll go grab the Pinot Noir, your fav!” She jumps up and runs to the small kitchen, hearing glasses being clanked around. “OMG I’m gonna grab some crackers and cheese too!” You hear from the kitchen.

You couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.

As the night went on many glasses of wine were poured, episodes were watched, and lots of girl talk. It's all really fuzzy, but you don't mind. Well you wouldn't, at least until tomorrow afternoon.

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

Taglist:

@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @slut4lando @gvfmarge @peaceloveunitygvf @mar-rein12

[buckets-and-trees]

Good Luck

Fandom: MCU Collection: Buck's Eleven Title: Good Luck Characters/Pairings: Steve and the team Word Count: 620 

Summary: The team gets a double dose of news with less than an hour to go before the big heist.

Logistical Notes: All you need to know is Bucky and Steve put together a team to knock over a casino New Year's Eve 1960. None of the pieces in Buck's Eleven have to be read in order, though they do tie together. You will see some familiar dialogue in here borrowed from Avengers Endgame.

COLLECTION: Buck's Eleven | Bookings and Rings

↠ Aspen's Ask Box | Masterlist | Field Guide to the Forest

“I’m sorry, did I miss something?”

Everyone in the room turns to look at Peter.

“Bucky’s been arrested?”

“Yeah,” Steve responds.

“And you don’t find this concerning?”

“No, why would it be concerning?”

“We’re 45 minutes from call time and you don’t find this concerning?”

The truth is Peter is not the only one who’s got concerns, but the others were split on various levels between alarm and trusting Steve’s calm, and it’s just that Peter was the only one to voice it in the group.

“No. We’re a group of highly competent professionals. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“O…kay.”

“Maybe we should discuss some realignment though,” Sam says.

“Sure, but you’re still with the kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Peter scoffs. “I’m twenty-five.”

“And it’s real cute,” Fury offers from a few feet behind him.

Peter jumps, not knowing the older man had been standing directly behind him. “Torres is only eighteen months older than me.”

Joaquin flashes him an apologetic grin and can only shrug.

“Right,” Steve turns to Joaquin. “You think you can cover Buck’s role?”

He blinks for just one second, then answers, “Sure. Absolutely.”

“And look, Pete,” Steve turns back to their grease man. “I want you to know I appreciate you voicing your concern. It shows a genuine commitment to open communication, and that’s a highly undervalued currency.”

The door to the suite bursts open with Scott tumbling in, a briefcase in his left hand. “I don’t know if you’re going to like this news, but the Prince of Wakanda just touched down at the airport with car service requested for The Riviera.”

“Seems His Royal Highness must be a fan of boxing.”

“Okay, I don’t love Buck arrested, but royalty in town and at The Riv? That puts an additional twenty armed security on the ground, easily,” Clint chimes in.

“Not including his personal guard detail of likely four Dora Milaje,” Tony adds, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looks up at Steve from where he’s preparing a martini at the bar cart.

Steve looks from Tony to Nat, who shrugs an easy shoulder, completely unconcerned.  

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Steve counters. He waits for another moment, his eyes make a concentrated sweep across the room, studying the faces of each of the other nine.

No one says a word.

“Right then, this is it. We have a chance to take down the house. You know your teams, you know your missions. No mistakes, no do-overs. Most of us are going places we know, doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the job of our lives, and we’re gonna win, whatever it takes.” Steve let’s half a second sit comfortably in the air. “Good luck.”

With that, the team disburses - all except Fury, who’s looking at Steve, cigar perched in his left hand, looking at Steve.

Steve sighs and puts his hands on his hips, leaning his weight to his left leg, and cocks his head slightly. “Well?”

“Don’t look at me, you and Buck put this operation together this time, this is your team, I’m just here to play my little part and pay the bills.”

Steve nods. “It’ll work.”

“Course it will. And if it doesn’t, we’ll be surrounded by friends in the state pen.”

Steve cracks a wry smile. “As if you’d stay more than a night.”

“I can’t help that I’m very well connected and richer than the rest of you.”

Steve’s smile turns to a smirk. “But you haven’t got any other friends.”

“Which is why I’d get all of you knuckleheads out pretty quickly. Now let’s go take all of Pierce’s money and put a black mark on his reputation.”

COLLECTION: Buck's Eleven | Bookings and Rings

↠ Aspen's Ask Box | Masterlist | Field Guide to the Forest

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 8.9k

A/N: Holy shit, look at this! One month to finish one chapter, and then I churn out another in 5 days. Who am I?!

Seriously, your response to last chapter blew me away. That's what got me writing so quick. That, and I can't bear our Ralphie being sad, lol. This is a very Ralph-centric chapter, so I hope you enjoy! <3

Also, this chapter introduces what may be my most favourite character yet. I can't wait to write more of her.

Set your alarm to a sound you like, they said. You’ll wake up in a better mood, they said. Guaranteed good start to the day, they said. You don’t even remember putting your phone on charge last night. You remember getting out of the taxi. You remember opening the door. You remember going up the stairs. You remember face-planting into the bed. But you don’t even remember getting your phone back out from where you’d put it.

Something doesn’t feel right about the bed, though. You roll over and notice there’s no other weight pressing down on the mattress. Turning yourself fully, you see that Ralph’s not in the bed with you. Neither are his pillows. His phone is charging on his nightstand, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

Until you see some movement out of the corner of your eye, and look down to see him asleep on the floor. He’s brought his pillows down with him, but he’s only got his coat to cover him. Leaning across the mattress, you reach down over the side of it to prod him. “Hey. Ralph. C’mon, get into bed.” He grunts, shaking his head around until his face is buried into the pillow. You tut and groan, “Fuck’s sake, I’m taking a shower and then going downstairs, so just… Stop being so bloody awkward and get some decent sleep, at least.”

Holding your head as you shake it, you clamber out of the bed and trundle your way into the bathroom. Poking at the remnants of last night’s face, you try and save as much of your skin’s condition as you can by taking a wipe to it before you get into the shower.

The shower takes far longer than usual, as if you’re not already running behind on your own schedule. As you watch the water run down your limbs, words echo in your head. Having you at my ankles 24/7 is fucking exhausting. Tell me the truth already, it’ll hurt less. For fuck’s sake, Ralph, I don’t want you gone! I’m just a -thing now. Tipping your head up, you let every stream of water punch you in the face, cleansing you of all the negativity that last night had left on you. 

Once you’re finally washed, dried and dressed, you don’t even bother checking if Ralph got into the bed before you go back downstairs. The friends that are awake so far greet you gingerly, and you groan, your face wincing. “Do you guys -”

“We’ve already agreed that we’re Switzerland here,” Connor interjects. “We don’t know your side. We barely know Ralph’s, he was a wreck.” You let out another small groan. “And it’s obviously very fresh so we won’t pry,” he holds his hands up.

“But, we are still here for the both of you, however you need us,” Scott nods.

You nod back, “’Preciate it, thanks. I was actually gonna ask if - I’ll happily take back anyone’s bags, to make room, but I was wondering if… Any of you had space, if you could… Take him home for me, I’d be super grateful.”

“He can come back with us,” Anna looks over at Scott and his partner, who both nod back.

“We’ll take care of him. Take the time you need,” Scott comforts you with a warm hug across the shoulders.

Once you hear one more person coming down the stairs, you feel your insides turn to lead in seconds. Grabbing some toast, you sneak your way through the ground floor rooms so that you can get back to the stairs without having to face him again.

Quickly filtering through the clothes in Ralph’s - your suitcase that he’s using, you can tell he’s gotten dressed for the day, so collecting his remainders and packing them, as well as your own, you get to loading up your car. Anna and the boys helpfully take their bags out, too, offering hugs and words of sympathy and gratitude.

“Ralph mentioned something about wanting to go somewhere before we leave, so we’ll probably be a bit late back, okay?” Anna tells you. “You gonna be alright?”

You nod, “I think it’ll do me good to have some me time.”

“I do, too. Just don’t get too angry and do something stupid, ’kay?” Anna makes you promise and gives you one final hug before you head out onto the road.

As you set your phone up to start playing music for the drive home, you notice the notifications on your lock screen:

Missed call (12)

Voicemail (9)

With a heavy sigh, you leave them on the screen, at least until you get to a service station. After filling the car up, getting some snacks and a drink for the journey, and getting back on the road, you finally bite the bullet and start playing the voicemails through your car’s speaker:

“How dare you run out on me?! You didn’t even give me a fighting chance to truly say my piece, I thought that very unfair of you. Need I remind you that all of this is extremely new to me, not to mention completely terrifying?! Life as I know it is gone, and I don’t know when I can go back. How can you not see that from my point of view?!”

“I was only looking out for you, you know. It wasn’t proper, the way he was around you. You didn’t see the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of meat, it was vulgar. And especially while you were under the influence of alcohol, how advantageous for him! What with you being so far from home, I was simply intervening to make sure you were safe!”

“And what on earth made you think that I see you as a replacement for my own mother?! For one thing, Mother never even did any of her own cooking or cleaning. I thought you were a friend. Friends don’t leave their friends stranded in loud places that they don’t know, half a hundred miles away from another place they don’t even know anymore!”

“Don’t you even worry yourself any further. As soon as we get back to London, I’m making it priority number one to go and find that old man and demanding he take me back to my own time again. I don’t care that he told you that it was random, I’ll sleep under the bridge with him for however long is needed if that’s what it takes to get me back to my home. That’s what you want, and so that’s what I’ll do. If I’m going to be an unwanted presence, I may as well do it in a time and a place that I know, where I have enough money to my name that people will at least pretend to like me without ever telling me they don’t!”

“I’ve made a terrible mistake here. I was getting upset and so I went outside for some fresh air, and then I wanted to go home too, but I can’t do that without money and so I started walking in the direction that I thought was the sea, but now I fear I’ve gone too far. I’m going to turn back. I hope I haven’t accidentally made any turns that I’ve forgotten about. Oh, what a fool I am. Stupid, stupid, stupid Ralph. Why am I even on the phone, it’s not like you can help me now. Or that you’d want to.”

“I’ve given up on walking now, I’m just sitting on the edge of the path. People keep dropping coins next to me. Perhaps those can be a consolation fee to you. Or perhaps this is how I earn my keep after all. Everybody pity poor, pathetic Ralph. Not enough to stop his father going through his staff as if our home doubled as a brothel, not enough to save his mother from the heartbreak of Father’s death. Not enough for Victoria to ever even consider me more than the social title we both held together being who we are. Not even enough to keep the only person who ever cared about me to stay.”

“Oh blast, what have I done? I don’t want to lose you. I - Just because I had promised myself that I wouldn’t repea- Gah, don’t do it, Ralph, this isn’t the proper way, stupid -”

“I realise that last message left quite abruptly. Connor found me and took me back to the bar and now we’re waiting for a taxi but I went to the toilet first. And I felt that feeling again when you look at yourself in the mirror and suddenly everything feels all wobbly. And I think I’ve said some very bad things that I can’t remember. But I do know I’m still mad at you, as well. I didn’t want to say any of those things, but you can’t deny you’re not responsible for this fight, too. I hope you’re sleeping well.”

“We are home now. Well, not home home but we are back at the house. I went up to the bedroom but you were already in the middle of the bed, fast asleep. I shan’t wake you, and I suppose I should learn my place at some point. I took the liberty of taking your phone out and putting the charger into it. I couldn’t tell you why I’m still leaving you these messages, I suppose I just… I’m upset with you, but also I want to talk to you, because you know better than anyone how to make me happier again. And I want to talk about all of this, but also I don’t know if that is such a good idea or it’ll just keep dragging this out. But won’t it be worse if we never do? Mother and Father never talked their problems out - not that we’re - oh, I give up.”

You’re not sure how you feel. You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to shake Ralph by his shoulders, but you also want to hug him tightly and let that citrusy scent of his envelop you.

He’s right, though. You want to talk to him, but you also don’t. Because you know that the things you want to say, the things you could say to the Ralph you envision in your head, the real Ralph wouldn’t reply in the same way. He’d probably get defensive and you wouldn’t actually get anywhere because he’d get stubborn and you’d get upset. Or maybe he would hear you out. Maybe you’re just villainising him at the moment because of how fresh the wounds of last night are.

Even so, even if you do start to address every elephant in the room, how far do you allow that to unravel? Do you tell him the truth, that if you don’t spite him for his actions, you’ll only keep forgiving them if only because you can’t bear to think of life without him? Do you stand there and beg for him to never leave the 21st century, consequences be damned? Do you honestly believe your life is some kind of late-2000s rom-com movie?

The closer you get back to London, the more you dwell on certain parts of certain messages. Especially the part about Ralph deciding he’ll live the rest of his days in this era with Homeless Pete. Was he serious about that? You have most of his possessions either with you or back at the flat, but would he come back for them? Would there even be a point? No, you can’t imagine Ralph would last more than twenty minutes out there roughing it. 

But what if he doesn’t come back to you? What if one of your friends agrees to take him in, instead? You’re sure that your relationship with them wouldn’t change in the slightest, but you’re not certain that he would remain neutral. Would he feel too uncomfortable around you? Would there be a home amongst your friends’ that you would no longer be welcome in?

Maybe he is out of your life for good after this. Maybe he is just going to find somewhere else to live until the time machine lift fixes. Maybe going cold turkey is what you need. You were getting too ahead of yourself. And besides, even in a scenario where he really does have no choice but to return, it’s only a matter of time before all of this piles up again, and then you’re right back here. Is it worth putting yourself through this much turmoil time and again for something so fruitless?

But that insinuates that you’ve only ever been helping Ralph for your own ulterior motives. Ralph didn’t come to you seeking anything other than - well, he wasn’t seeking anything out, the poor guy just ended up here. But you happened to find him. And you took him in and gave him the roof over his head that he needed. You kept him fed and comfortable, is that not just something you’d do out of the kindness of your own heart? Is it really fair to turf him out because you can’t keep your feelings in check? Or is it fairer to cut him loose, and let him forge his own path with whomever he wants to, not just the first person he meets?

As you pull into the familiar busy streets of Croydon, you wonder just how far back Anna and the others are. Her last update, and Connor’s, all came at similar times, but where Connor was informing you all that he, Grace and her boyfriend were halfway there, Anna was texting to say they were just leaving Brighton.

Parking your car in its spot, you look up through your windscreen at the towering block of flats, resting your chin against your steering wheel. You know that everything’s just going to remind you of him in there, too. But where else could you go?

~~~

After one final trip to the beachfront, Ralph knew it was time to face the music. No hiding behind false smiles and fake words. Although, maybe he had ruined the chance at fixing things with words, even if they were true. Perhaps you’ll be truly sick of him. The way everyone always is.

Of course, nobody likes a self-pitiful fool. You’d made that abundantly clear last night. But what else is Ralph to do? It’s not wrong. He’s always been second fiddle. Never picked in classes, never favoured by his peers, never favoured by his parents, even the help were always far more charmed by Victoria than they were by him. And Ralph never understood why, he always tried to emulate his sister in every way, but that just wasn’t right, for some reason.

In the car, Anna suggests playing some songs that’ll make Ralph feel better. He agrees, and it does lift his spirits as he hears the familiar voice of his now-favourite singer, but the lyrics bring his mood straight back down again. He frowns, “I thought you said these songs would cheer me up.”

“I said they’d make you feel better,” Anna corrects. “Sometimes when you’re feeling sad, it’s better to just… I dunno, let someone else talk about how you’re feeling. Makes you feel less alone in it all. It’s cathartic.”

And so Ralph spends most of the car journey back in relative silence, forehead pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he argues with himself. What the devil is he supposed to do now?

Yes, he may have told you in the heat of the moment that he'd rather live with that awful man, and yes, in theory that does sound like the perfect solution - it gives you the closure from Ralph that you apparently want, as well as giving him direct access to the only person who can help… put him back. Those words pierce him, etching deeper into his brain every time he thinks them.

But, in reality? Ralph tries to remember the area that you’d taken him to when you’d first talked to that homeless man about how he’d ended up here. He remembers dirty people, dirty mattresses with little to no springs. No place for a Penbury, that’s for sure. Though is Ralph even one at this point?

What does he expect to happen when he goes back in time, back to Penbury House? You’d always encouraged him to tell Victoria to “shove it”, but how well would that be taken? Surely she’d just tell him the same thing and turf him out? She’d have more reason to, it’s been her place of residence and she’d surely have the other four on her side.

And did he want to win Lauren back? DId he want to come back with a bravado that she’d find attractive? Did he really want her to find him attractive anymore? Yes, he’d been drawn to her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, but she certainly made her intentions with him - or lack thereof - very well-known. Ralph looks in the mirror at Scott and his partner in the back seat, both chatting away as they hold hands. Lauren would never love Ralph like that. 

Scott’s reflection catches Ralph’s eye and raises his eyebrows in slight concern. Ralph simply nods with a small smile. He looks over at Anna, who’s singing along with the song that’s currently playing. She notices his gaze and briefly meets it, gesturing encouragingly as her singing becomes more deliberate. Though Ralph has yet to master lyrics to the songs he now likes, his smile does grow a little bigger as he moves his head from side to side in rhythm with the song. Anna, in turn, beams back at him before focusing on the road once again.

This is the sort of love Ralph always dreamt of having someday. Of course, there’s still more that he’d love to have. He’d love someone to wake up to every morning, to embrace and to kiss and to devote every waking moment to. Oh blast, this is his internal monologue, he can say it; he’d love to wake up to you every morning, to embrace you and to kiss you and to devote every waking moment to you. 

But this sort of love is just as important. Friends who check up on him, and who cheer him up. He’ll miss that once he’s back in his own era. Not that he’d be able to keep it up for much longer if he were to stick around. Your friends are loyal creatures, and you’ve known them for far longer. It would only hurt anyway if he were to stay and they were to pick you.

Though, who’s to say that they would? The words you’d told him days ago echo in his mind. If Ralph wants to be their friend, he has to believe that they want to be his friend, too. And they’ve only ever made him feel like he was part of the group, from the day they met him. Perhaps they’d be willing to remain in contact with Ralph even if you didn’t want to. But wouldn’t that split the group up? Or has Ralph been underestimating you, as a part of the friend group as well, and perhaps you would still remain friends with him after all of this. But could he face you after the things that were said?

And how would he explain himself? You’ve obviously got it in your head that Ralph only intervenes because he wants attention. Does he explain that he wants so much more than that? That he wants a whole life with you? What would be the point in disclosing that now, when obviously Ralph’s destiny would doom any sort of relationship between you. If he knew how long he had, perhaps he could simply keep those thoughts where they already remain, in his imagination. For the sake of the group, and for the sake of just getting to spend as much time around you as possible.

Is that self-destructive of Ralph? Maybe. But if he’s on borrowed time, what’s the use in wasting it? Doesn’t he deserve these fleeting moments of happiness, too? Even if he knows they’ll only end in disaster for him, it’s not as though he’s got a lot going for him, anyway

Before Ralph knows it, he’s starting to recognise certain streets. And then Anna’s stopping outside your block of flats. Ralph gets out, with gracious nods of thanks and grateful smiles to everyone in the car, and waves them off as they drive away. He looks up to the ninth floor windows, eyes squinting with the brightly lit clouds that overcast the late November sky.

Ralph takes a deep breath, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He squares his shoulders up. His eyes still trained on the window he knows is yours, he once again inhales deeply, holds it for a second… And promptly turns on his heel and power-walks down the street.

He’s not sure where he’s going, wherever his legs take him, he supposes. He rounds a corner and is suddenly met by a very familiar face. “Ah! Mister… P-Peter, wasn’t it?” The man grunts and waves his hand from side to side. “You’re the one that brought me here, aren’t you?” The man studies Ralph’s face intently for a moment and then realisation dawns. He clicks his fingers as his eyes widen and he nods, and then before he can react, Homeless Pete grabs Ralph by the arm and leads him back to the building Ralph first emerged from almost 3 months ago.

Ralph looks through the open doors, to the carpeted floors that look unchanged from when he last walked them. The lift doors stare back at him ominously. “Are - are you bringing me here because… Is it time?” Despite the inevitability of this moment, a tidal wave of sadness crashes over Ralph. This is it. The man shrugs and nods. 

Ralph looks at him with sorrowful eyes, “Do you think I have time to say my goodbyes, at least?” Another shrug and a wrinkle of the nose bridge. Ralph is perplexed. “Well, how long have I got?” A shrug, a gesture to himself, a gesture to the lift. Until Mr Peter goes in himself, Ralph deduces. 

He ponders for a moment. “Do you - what would happen, would you say, if I were to… To not go back? Would it affect… You know?” Ralph gesticulates wildly around himself. With a fleeting amused smile, Homeless Pete shakes his head. He gestures to himself, then out to the left. Back to himself, and then out to the right. Another shrug. 

As Ralph’s trying to figure it out, Pete then taps his arm, holds up 4 fingers and looks at Ralph expectantly. He then points to the ground, and holds up the four fingers again. “Oh! Do you mean the four that travelled to us? L-Lauren and the rest?” The name still catches in his throat. Pete nods. He looks all around, in all directions. He shrugs at Ralph. “Do you think life is no different with them staying where they are?” Pete shakes his head.

Ralph could practically feel his brain doing somersaults trying to understand it all. So, perhaps there is a chance for him to stay, after all? But how on earth would that be feasible? He can't do anything that requires legal documentation - he could never get a job, or buy a house, or see a doctor, or travel the world, or get married. What if he became horrifically unwell? Which is the worse fate, to die a slow and physically painful death amongst friends, or a slow and emotionally painful death from a broken heart, all alone?

Even that rides upon the illusion that you and your friends would remain with Ralph until the end of his days. What if you never take him back? What if you do, but the cycle repeats itself until you leave him hung out to dry? While his lady friends are all good company, none of those are exactly chomping at the bit to talk to him. He’s usually the one that starts conversations with them. How could he expect any of them to put him up forevermore? He’d have to disclose the true nature of his existence to them eventually, and what if they took it poorly?

“Could I… Have some time to mull this over, please?” Ralph eventually asks. A grunt. Four fingers up. A point to the ground. “You would like to reconvene at 4pm?” A nod. “Very well, I shall return by 4pm promptly.”

Ralph turns away and starts walking in whatever direction he’s stopped at. He keeps walking, hoping to outrun the swarm of conflicting thoughts trying to consume his head, until he hits the high street. At the end of it, another familiar building. Far older than the rest. With a big black sign hanging off of the side wall that has a big white W on it.

Ralph approaches the bookstore as though his legs are moving him there automatically, completely independently from his own volition. He stops himself as he gets close, though - letting someone pass breaks him out of his trance. Watching so many people going in and out of his front door. He recognises a dark plaque by the side of it - it’s much too far away for Ralph to read it, but he doesn’t need to. He knows what it says by heart. Penbury House, est. 1898. It was a wedding present from Ralph’s maternal grandparents so that his parents may start a family. Oh, how his mother’s family loved that she were married to Lord Penbury. She was no lowly peasant herself, of course, but a Lord, no less!

Ralph always resented inheriting that title. It made him just like his father. And it was his father’s penchant for… Whatever he was doing with that young woman, that led to his untimely demise. A real stain on the Penbury name. If not for the twins turning their reputation around to being total carefree socialites, with free rein of a mansion, complete with the family wealth, and no parental guidance, they surely would have had no leg to stand on.

Taking another deep breath, Ralph marches past the old oak doors and into what was once his hallway. Cash registers adorn the hallway, along with a Customer Service desk right up at the front. Ralph approaches it and asks meekly, “Excuse me, do you know much of the history of this building?”

“Uhh, I know some super rich family owned it until the daughter blew all their money and it was repo’ed. Someone made it into a bookstore and then, big capitalism over here,” they gesture wildly with their arms, “Waterstone’s bought it out. As far as I know, they obviously didn’t keep any of the furniture but all of the walls and floors and that are restored as best they can be.”

Of course Victoria wasted all their family’s fortune away. With the help of those four, no doubt. Ralph wonders whether that means he really is needed back in his own era. To keep her from ruining the Penbury name. With a small nod of thanks to the staff member, he slowly starts to walk around the hallowed halls.

The dining area, filled with aisles of jigsaw puzzles and card games, like the ones he was playing with your friends over the past week. What a strangely apt crossover of Ralph’s two worlds, he thinks to himself. In the next room, there are craft supplies and children’s games all around it. Children run laps around their parents. What a strange sight to behold in a kitchen, though now it looks as though there was never a stove in it. The living area is absolutely chock-full of books. Piles and piles. “Best Selling”. “New In Stock”. “Booktok Finds”, whatever that means. There’s a couple on a book cover in a display titled “Modern Romance” who look a lot like a cartoon version of Scott and his partner. If he could, Ralph would have liked to buy them it.

He thinks back to the ukulele that Connor had bought him. Although he’d had no means of paying him back, Ralph had tried to insist on paying Connor back in some way, but he’d shrugged him off, insisting that it was “fine” and “’s just what mates do, innit?” No matter how much he racks his brain, Ralph can’t remember a time when anyone ever bought him a gift. On his birthday, he’d get presents for little boys, but not necessarily for Ralph. Footballs and train sets and toy soldiers. He had far more fun on Victoria’s rocking horse, or even games as simple as a hoop and stick, though running through the house with them always ended with harsh words and a harsher reception from his father’s cane.

The door leading out to the garage has a sign on it that says [Staff Only]. Clerks would walk in empty-handed and come out again with arms full. He assumes that’s where the inventory is kept.

He notices that there are people running up and down the stairs, and asks the very helpful clerk at the front if it’s okay to go up there. They tell him it is, and explain that there is a cordoned off area for staff only, but that there are plenty more books to be found, as well as some toilets if that’s what he’s looking for. He assures them that it isn’t, but he thanks them again regardless. 

Victoria’s quarters are now the staff quarters. The bathroom… Still serves some of its purposes. The master bedroom and his father’s office are all also filled with bookshelves. It almost feels like an invasion of privacy, seeing all these people walk through rooms that even Ralph and Victoria were forbidden from, back in the day.

Which leaves one more room. Taking a moment to compose himself, he steps into what used to be his bedroom and is met with the most amazing smells. Sounds of china clinking against itself as cups find saucers. The gentle chatter of people sitting in what appears to be a small cafe. So many people in his space. Nothing to suggest it was ever the room he grew up in.

He’s stood by a counter, looking around while lost in thought, when the barista behind the counter gets his attention. “Everything okay, sir? Would you like anything?”

Ralph coughs out, “Oh, please, I’m no sir. Um, it’s fine, I haven’t… Brought any money with me or anything. Just here to look around.”

Nodding slowly while frowning, the barista steps away for a moment before returning and sliding a full cup of saucer his way. “Oh, no!” they say in a very deliberate tone. “I seem to have made this all wrong for one of my customers, and I would hate to waste it! Would you mind taking it off my hands, so my boss doesn’t see?”

Ralph looks perplexed. “But I just saw you - and how could you possibly go wrong with tea, you’ve not put any milk in yet or -”

They wave him off. “You look like you need it. Call it my good deed for the day. What milk should I “accidentally” put in?” They make air quotes with their fingers, which makes Ralph chuckle. 

He tells them which milk he’d prefer and they add it to his liking - “accidentally,” Ralph repeats the motions back to the barista who smiles back. “Should I tell others of your good deed, or do you wish for it to remain unknown?”

They grin widely. “Maybe no photos, but you can subtweet me if you like.”

Ralph frowns. “What’s a sub-tweet?”

“You can tweet about it without mentioning any specifics about me,” they explain. “Big fan, by the way.”

Ralph looks elated, but then his face falls. “Would - Are you going to ask me for a photo?”

“Oh god, no, I don’t think either of us are prepared for that! This chat’s been more than enough for me,” they smile at him once more before serving the next customer.

Ralph takes the cup with a warmth in his heart as he finds a free table that, once he’s sat at, is in the exact same placement as though he were sat at his own bed. He rubs his thumb back and forth across the rim of the cup, replaying that little conversation over and over. Being shown such a genuine act of kindness, with the person getting absolutely no personal gain from it, and within the walls of his own home, as well - sure, the people who wanted photos was flattering enough, but for once, someone just wanted to connect with Ralph. To validate that they didn’t think him an annoyance.

That gets him thinking yet again. About all of the times in this building he’s heard, “Not now, Ralph!” “For crying out loud, boy, will you stop?!” “Ugh, what is it now, hm?!” And about how he hasn’t heard a single utterance of any of those phrases since living with you. 

Maybe it was never Ralph that was annoying - you never made him feel that way, even at the beach when he was trying to help you find your rock. Every time Ralph tried to help, you were never unkind. Even when he would get too excited and hand you one that he’d already done before, you telling him, “You’ve already shown me that one!” was accompanied with laughter. What a sweet sound that was. Ralph misses it so. Even when the day’s excursion was unsuccessful because he got distracted playing with a child, you were completely unperturbed by it.

Maybe Ralph isn’t annoying. Maybe you were just the first selfless person out there who had the patience for him. Maybe…

Ralph shoves his hands into his coat pockets and feels around. He feels something large and leaves it be, and then feels something long and smooth. He takes out the photo reel of the two of you and looks at each photo. He’d have never been allowed to pose for any of the Penbury family portraits like this. Not even the soft smiles in the top one. The smile that looks so good on you. How could Ralph ever want to do anything other than make you feel like that all of the time?

As he sips his tea, his thumb absent-mindedly rubs over the bottom photo. Ralph couldn’t believe his luck, to feel your lips on his face. Of course, he had plenty more from the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t the same. How lucky Ralph was on that day. How happy the two of you were. He’d do anything to make sure you were that happy, again.

Anything.

He pockets the photos carefully, before finishing his tea in one big gulp, thanking the barista silently but profusely, and making his way out of Penbury House once more.

He wasn’t exactly expecting Homeless Pete to be waiting outside of the building the whole time, and so it’s a rather charming surprise to see him there still. Ralph stays back for a few moments, figuring out what his next words will be to Pete, since they’ll likely be the last he addresses them with. Once he’s decided, after several minutes of deliberating, he takes a deep breath and strides up to the other man.

“Mister Peter, after thinking long and hard about this, I have decided I wish to stay. I just feel as though I still have -”

Homeless Pete cuts him off with a grunt before turning around and shuffling into the building. Ralph frowns at the sight of the back of him. He was so looking forward to getting certain things off of his chest, and it was such a big decision to make, now it all feels rather anticlimactic. It’s rather underwhelming, if he’s being honest.

Turning back and walking down the high street, he sees what appears to be a costume store of sorts. There’s a suit jacket that Ralph rather likes the look of, but it’s paired with the most hideous colour combination. Looking around at the rest of the window display, he recognises the style of tasselled dress on the second mannequin with great familiarity, though something puzzles him about the display. There’s a board on it that specifically states, “Party like it’s 1922”, but these colours were not in season at all! What an amateur display of affairs. The only thing that remains true to that year are the trousers of the suit, but again, the top half is all wrong.

Ralph does spot something on the rack behind that looks like it would go well, though. And he’s strangely taking this display very personally. Once again working on autopilot, he marches into the store and promptly starts stripping down the suited mannequin. Finding a more appropriate shirt and tie to go along with the outfit he’s designing in his head, he starts muttering nonsensically to himself under his breath. 

He doesn’t notice the store clerk, who’s been watching him with amazed confusion at the sheer audacity of his actions, creeping up to him until they ask, “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, heavens!” Ralph yelps before letting a laugh bubble out from his lips. “Made me jump. No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine as I am!”

“…Right.” They slowly back away into a back room, out of Ralph’s perception. Not that he was watching, anyway, he’s on the lookout for a dress that complements his new suit layout far better.

Just as he’s pulling the dress over the mannequin’s head - blindly, as he has his head turned away from it and his eyes squeezed shut, for good measure - an older woman with a kindly face approaches him. “Hello there, love. Did my employee’s window display offend you, by any chance?” she asks in a Cockney accent.

“Oh!” Another yelp causes him to jump up on the spot. “You’re a sneaky pair, aren’t you! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, it’s awfully rude of me, but you see… The colour palette was all too wrong for the year 1922 anyway, and even then, nothing really complemented each other. I just thought this looked more cohesive, and… Honestly, I’ve no idea what came over me, the more I stand here the more of an utter fool I feel for being so inappropriate, I truly hope you can forgive me but I understand if you can’t, I shall leave immediately,” he hangs his head as he rambles, but the woman pats his arm.

“Chatty li’ul thing, int’cha?” She grins. “Name’s Florence, but don’t call me that, everyone calls me Babs. Always have since I were a kid.” She provides no further context, which Ralph tries not to dwell on as she continues, “Look, ’ere’s the fing, I ain’t the spring chicken I used to be, and I’ve been lookin’ for a fresh pair o’ hands. You seem to have an eye for this sorta fing. Fancy a job ’ere?”

Ralph’s eyes widen. “Oh, I, um, I can’t - I’m not… resgistered with any… Banks, you see,” he scrambles to think of a decent excuse, his eyes squeezing shut and his fingers curling in and stretching out.

Babs, however, screeches out a cackle. “Oh, ain’t you a - ’ere, in’t he a crack-up?” She asks the person behind the counter, who nods without looking up, with the air of someone very used to Babs’ personality. “You and me, darlin’, we’re one and the same. I don’t trust them toffs at the bank, neither! They want my money, they can prise it out me cold, dead hands! That’s why I pay cash in hand, sweed’art, all I ask is you show up a few days a week and I’ll pay ya for ’em. How’s that sound?”

A job with no ties to needing any sort of administration? Sounds too good to be true. But Ralph doesn’t care in this moment. “Oh, Ms. Babs, this really does solve such a gaping issue for me, you have no idea how indebted I am, thank you so very much,” he gushes as he shakes her hand enthusiastically.

She laughs, “Calm it, Kermit, I’ve already ’ad an ’ip replaced, I’d like to keep both me ’ands if I can ’elp it!” Ralph lets go as though she’s electrocuted him, which only makes her laugh more. “Go on, away wiv ya. See ya Monday, 9 sharp! We’ll talk shop more then. And you can drop that Ms malarkey, an’ all!”

Ralph smiles and bows at her, then at the other clerk, then at Babs again, who waves him away with a warm smile. Turning on his heel, Ralph’s filled with a confidence he’s never felt before as he strides back down the high street. Perhaps he could do it all. Perhaps he could even tell you how he truly feels about you.

Or, once the tower block comes into view, he could freeze up entirely at the thought. How presumptuous of him, to assume you’d reciprocate. Ralph would be lucky if you were to talk to him again after last night’s display. And what would he even say to you? Is it worth all of the mental energy to plan a whole monologue in advance, or would you simply repeat the other man’s actions, and slam the door in his face before he got the chance to say his piece?

Taking a deep breath in, squaring his shoulders and balling his fists up, he finally marches his way into the building, pressing the call button for the lift with such force that the arrow imprints in the pad of his thumb. As he’s waiting for it to come down, a familiar sound from behind him surprises him, as he turns to face whoever caused it.

~~~

Once you’re in your flat, wrestling both your bag and the suitcase into the lift with you and practically juggling them as you try to unlock your door, you take Ralph’s stuff and quickly throw it all into the bedroom, shutting the door and metaphorically shutting everything to do with Ralph in there. Except this had been his home for the last 3 months, so everything everywhere reminds you of him. Shaking your head, you go to your bag, throw everything that isn’t clothing out of it and take it out to the launderette with you. Keep out of the house, keep busy. Just until your mind stops swimming.

You watch your clothes spin around in the soapy water and wish you could do the same to your brain. What do you do with Ralph? Do you forgive him? Do you not? Do you seek his forgiveness? What if he doesn’t forgive you? 

You’re still very sure that your anger was valid. But perhaps not all of it was justified. You’ve been putting an awful lot of emotional weight on the idea of Ralph. Imagining him as the perfect boyfriend, and then trying to see the worst in him to combat those feelings. That doesn’t sound like someone with a winning argument in the real world.

Something about not having the security of having Ralph safe at home has you feeling a sense of numbness. Time passes without you even noticing. You’re not doing anything to help it along. Just sitting, staring, pondering.

Once you’re back home, you check the time and frown. Based on the time Anna said she was leaving, she should have been back well before now. You text:

Panicking, you then text the group:

Pacing the flat, your mind races more than ever. What if he’s hurt? Or worse? Or what if H.P’s found him because the time machine’s finally working now? What if he’s just walking the streets because he doesn’t want to return home? What if he really is living with the vagrants? What if he’s just doing all of this to make you panic over him? Truly, anything’s possible. Truly. He’s even in your head, now.

You look out through your window, uselessly from this high up. You know your friends said that you should stay at the flat, and it makes sense, in case he does come back. But what if he doesn’t? What if he’s lost? What if you need to be out there?

No. You’re useless to him and to your friends if your mind’s frazzled. You try asking your Echo if it can play you some music before remembering that a certain someone rendered it useless to you. You try and flick through your TV options but none of them are a worthy distraction.

After some frantic cleaning, you swear you’re starting to hear voices. Who else would be talking out in the hallway? Could it be? But who would he be talking to?

You press your ear to the door and pure relief washes over you as you hear the sweet, familiar tone of a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Running to grab your phone, you hurriedly text them to call off the search before swinging the door open.

“- dunno how the fuck she even got out, let alone all the way down there."

"Must have been the stairs, though it would be rather humorous if she learned how to operate the lift all by herself, wouldn't it?" Ralph chortles. Fuck, you've missed the sound of his laugh, and it's only been a day.

"Alright, look who's here!" Your neighbour cheers as they see you. They're standing in their open doorway, while Ralph is in the hall cradling Cheese the cat. Quickly, while his eyes haven't met yours yet, you snap a picture of Ralph holding his feline friend to send as a quick update to the group.

When Ralph looks around to see you, his eyes immediately fill with delight, then remorse, then excitement, then dejection, finally settling on looking at you with intent to gauge your reaction. Your neighbour, oblivious, continues, "Literally, mate, I owe you so much for finding her. Name your price."

"Oh, nonsense, just knowing she's safe and home is reward enough for me," Ralph scratches her just beneath her jaw as he rocks her like a baby, to which she purrs loud enough for even you to hear. The same cat who you'd had to being out of hiding before by standing in the doorway and throwing ham into your neighbour's flat until she came out to eat it.

"Well, if you think of anything, you let me know. I just hope nobody told the big man that they saw a cat walking around when we're not meant to have them," your neighbour grimaces.

"Ahh, if I catch wind of any grasses, I'll sort them out," you smirk before turning to Ralph again. "Ready to go?"

Ralph's big doe eyes bore into yours as he nods, gently putting the cat down and then quickly making his way back into your flat.

"He's a good'un really, isn't he?" Your neighbour simpers.

Watching him go, your wistful smile remains even as you look back at your neighbour. "Yeah. Remember what I told you when you first met him? Harmless."

"Yeah, yeah. You would think that," they smile knowingly. Narrowing your eyes, confused, you simply wave them off and go back through your door

Ralph seems to have shut himself in your room. You feel as though he's probably got a reason why he wants to avoid you, and there's many a thing you don't want to hear from him, either. But you've felt a fraction of what it would be like to lose him and that alone was torturous. Every time you felt bad all day, you only wanted to talk to Ralph. Now that you finally have the opportunity to, you're not going to waste it. Just remember to rein it in.

You knock on the door. You step back. He opens it. You exchange similar looks of curiosity, but something about him being here and in front of you overpowers you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in to hug him tightly. His arms snake around your sides, and you feel his hands splay out against your back and press into it. It’s a hug that says it all. It apologises and it forgives, a crossover of exchanges between you. He smells like coffee shops and second-hand smoke, but the familiar scent of Ralph still remains as you bury your face into him.

When he pulls away from you, it’s to hold you at arm’s length with a gleeful glint in his eye. “I’ve got some news for you.”

Your heart sinks. Surely, anything that’s good for him that’s happened over the course of today can’t be good for you. But you wouldn’t be a good friend if you weren’t supportive. So you put on a smile and ask, “Oh, yeah?”

“I’ve got a job!” he singsongs, skipping on the spot. You look at him incredulously, and he explains. “It’s a bespoke costume store, run by this… Rather eccentric character, and it pays cash in hand! So I can earn some money and pay you back!”

You rub your face. “Look, Ralph, when I said those things -”

“That was a justified cause for concern, and I wish to rectify it. I, myself, said things that I did mean and things that I didn’t. But I don’t think it’ll do us good to talk about that too much.”

“I don’t either,” you smile back. “I’m glad you’ve found something to keep you occupied. Though, what about when… You know… Lift’s back in service?”

Ralph pauses. Does he tell you that he's willing to take the risk and stay as long as he can? Would you trust Homeless Pete as a reliable source or would you assume Ralph was stupid for doing so? He feels far too fragile to have another argument. And so he simply shrugs, "Then I shall have to do some awful things very quickly to ensure I'd never be welcomed!"

You laugh loudly, "Ralph!" and he grins back at you.

"Oh, and before I take this coat off…" he starts, shoving his fists into his pockets.

"Ah, yeah, we can put that reel on the fridge!” You grin, but Ralph shakes his head.

“Well, yes, but also… Um, well, I had noticed that due to my incessant bothering, you’d, um, forgotten to actually pick out a stone from the beach,” Ralph starts.

You interrupt him with a groan, slapping your forehead with the heel of your hand. “Oh my god, I forgot my cool rock this year!”

“W-well, I went back earlier this morning - goodness, was it only this morning?” Ralph asks under his breath. “Anyway, um, I know this is… Probably… A very easy shape to mistake a rock to be, but I didn’t remember seeing it on the shelf and so…” You look down, and in the palm of Ralph’s hand sits a stone that’s in a near-perfect heart shape.

“Oh, Ralphie,” you gush, pressing your hand to your chest. Even after everything last night, he still went out of his way to find that for you. If he hadn’t clarified that it was merely an easy shape to find, you’d have questioned the nature of it specifically, but he had, so there’s no need to look deeper into it. You have your answer.

“Well, I just thought even though it might not have been worthy enough for you to have picked, you still get to keep your tradition this year,” he explains hurriedly. “I know it’s just a circle with a dent in it, but -”

“But it came from you, and it’s unique to the shelf, so it’s absolutely living there,” you insist, pushing his fingers to curl up around the smooth stone and holding his hand there for a few beats. Not wanting to linger too long, you snap back and clear your throat. “Why not put it on there, I’ll order us a takeaway, and we’ll find something trashy to put on, yeah?” Ralph nods meekly and you practically float over to the sofa, you’re that happy to just have your Ralph back, for however long that may be.

“Oh, hey, good news and bad-ish news on your front,” you shout to him in the other room. “Good news is, everyone seems to be over making their icons the photo of you flapping about microwaving the egg!”

He frowns as he pops back into view. “And the bad?”

You show him the sea of icons, all Ralph, all wearing a polo shirt, all stood behind the painting that hangs on the back wall, all with a rose in his mouth. “I think they’ve found your Tinder.”

Ralph groans as he approaches the sofa to sit down next to you, and you rest your head on his shoulder comfortingly. You don't feel the need to move it as you pick out a movie you think Ralph will like. "Here, this one's good," you point out. "It's another musical, you like those."

"I do!" Ralph lilts excitedly. "What's it all about?"

"Okay, so in the seventies, there was this insanely popular group of singers called ABBA..."

next chapter

[theninth09]

I don’t really know where I’m going with this, it’s kinda just a hunch I had.

There’s a difference between being called hot and being called beautiful.

Liam is beautiful, not hot. He has that classic prince look to him. He has that glow and that energy where you can tell he’s healthy, like he has a good diet and keeps his grooming in check and probably snacks on fruit. Like there’s Lana del Rey playing in the background whenever you look at him. He’s the guy that is so beautiful that he isn’t sexualised. Everyone looks at him from afar as this like being that’s so ethereal and classic that he isn’t on the same level as all of the ‘hot’ Instagram model types. It’s like comparing some guy from today to an actor from the 90s, the latter being Liam. Like he’s too angelic in his facial structure. So delicate like he belongs to an old painting or something. And people notice that and don’t put him in the same light as a guy they’d hook up with on a night out or some hot guy who’s passing on the street. His look is too pure and too beautiful, almost regal for that. He definitely smells very clean as well, like a shower almost. But then when you get him alone, and his hair has that bedhead tousle or he is sleepy in the morning, it’s sinful. Like seeing someone so pure and majestic crack a little.

Theo is hot, not beautiful. This may sound brutal but he’s the kinda guy you’d see and call him hot or sexy like a pornstar but he doesn’t have that regal, princely, from a painting vibe to him at all. He’s the guy you sexualise. His look isn’t pure or ‘beautiful’, it’s hot, and sexy. There’s a big difference. He’s more rugged and has a more dirty vibe, like he isn’t angelic or pure or delicate. He is more dark circles messy hair vibes. His voice is probably a little hoarse from smoking. He has that Instagram model vibe and you can tell his look is more ‘put on’, like he gels his hair and tries with outfits and wears a leather jacket and jeans that are a little tight and definitely oversprays with some dark smoky cologne.

I don’t know if this is a weird post or not, I could be chatting total shit so sorry if I it is but it’s just a hunch I had.

i do kinda see where you were going with this, yeah! i definitely think that there's a difference between how people perceive them. im not gonna go into much detail how they actually look, bc thats kinda just their actors and me personally, im not good at pointing out what people find attractive about them since.. i do not find either of them attractive (they're just random men to me and id say sorry but actually.. im not sorry) anyway!

liam does feel like this, for lack of a better phrase and at the risk of sounding cringe, good boy. like. he isnt very tall nor is he buff (yeah he has muscles but hes not like. Huge or anything bc of it) so at first glance he doesnt feel intimidating at all. i feel like his personality adds to this as well, bc hes very nice and gentle all of the time. and he can be a bit silly, too! i know that ppl often reduce him to his anger issues (the writers, the characters in the show and the fandom...) but we actually see him be sweet a lot. with hayden, with his friends, with his dad. he has this calm presence to him. i do feel like this adds to this aura you described, how people dont look at him and think "hot" but rather just, hey, thats a sweet guy.

and that he takes care of himself makes a lot of sense since hes a lacrosse player. do i think that everyone who plays sports at school automatically has a good diet, etc? no, obviously not. but lacrosse is extremely important to him and hes so fit due to his training, that scott & stiles mistake him for a were-creature. that he'd watch what he eats, gets enough rest, etc would make a lot of sense and we literally see him lifting weights and going on runs in the show. so him having a healthy look to him, definitely.

i do want to add that for me, his introduction plays a role here too. hes so young in s4 like. quite literally a child. and as someone who watched that as an adult, i obviously didnt even consider thinking of him like that. like his appearance quite literally doesnt matter to me bc thats a kid. (this is also the reason i dont feel comfortable writing explicit-rated fics that take place during s4-5. i only feel comfortable doing that for s6/post-canon.) so in my mind, hes automatically not anything even close to "hot" bc of the way he gets introduced.

theo, on the other hand, gets introduced in exactly the opposite way. some of his earliest scenes include malia commenting on his body, calling him "hot", him being naked multiple times... that scene of him undressing in front of malia is literally called "thirsting for theo" on the official youtube account. like. cant get much more obvious than that. and ive talked about theo getting sexualized and even sexualizing himself in another post (here) so i definitely agree with that. he uses his looks like a weapon. he counts on other people finding him attractive, he knows that he has every reason to be confident about it. he uses it to his advantage. and he has to unlearn that he doesnt have to seduce/intimidate people anymore and that hes allowed to be soft and gentle, too. that being vulnerable doesnt have to be scary, etc.

i think that hygiene is probably something hes very particular about. obviously we dont see the full extent of his homelessness, but hes always very put together (i think this is due to lazy writing, but let me pretend that there are canon reasons for it.) despite not having a reliable way to take care of himself, its important to him that the pack doesnt get to see him at his lowest. his hair is always styled, he shaves, he wears different outfits. he doesnt want anyone to notice in what a vulnerable situation hes in. post-canon, when hes not homeless anymore (either living on his own or with liam) i think he'd probably struggle a bit at first. having been homeless 100% had an impact on him, so maybe he'd struggle with being casual about it. always savoring that he has an immediate water source, that there's always enough soap, etc. switching between indulging in getting to always be clean and almost obsessing over it.

about his voice: i personally dont think he smokes, bc im just not a fan of that (if you hc that he does, thats cool!) but i do think that he has a deep voice sometimes. his voice is deeper in comparison to liams already and theres that one interview where tyler posey comments on cody christians voice sounding sexy and cody explains it by saying that hes tired. so. theos voice being hoarse after he wakes up or when hes about to go to sleep is my personal hc.

i think their differences here are very interesting when it comes to their relationship. theo definitely looks up to liam, is impressed by him and maybe almost idolizes him a bit. getting to see liam "crack" as you said, would probably make theo feel a lot of emotions. yeah, he'd find it attractive but also just getting to see liam when hes vulnerable, being allowed to see him when hes raw. that'd mean a lot to theo. and at the same time, liam getting theo to lose his persona and slowly helping him remove those walls, would make liam emotional too. getting to see underneath, getting to see theo when hes soft and not putting on a show.

[pnf-n-mcu-is-life]

Marvel Quotes I liked (gonna gradually add)

Avengers, Age of Ultron:

Strucker: “Keep going.” 

Agent: “But sir, They’re the avengers!”Literally two seconds later: 

Strucker: “No surrender!” *Turns to person* “I will surrender.” 

Nat: Could someone help with the bunker? Hulk: literally runs through the bunker, breaking it

Nat: thanks.

Tony, as the science dork he is: please be a secret door, please be a secret door, please be a secret door, yay! 🎉 

Scott, in Tony’s suit, instructing The Ants tm

Tony: who’s speaking???? 

Scott: it’s your conscience. We don’t talk a lot these days.

WandaVision: 

Ep. 5

Vision, turning back into human Vision: oh, Agnes, I was just fluffing this pillow, with my,….face. 

Ep. 6, Halloween:

Vision: *makes a pose like he’s about to shoot an arrow* I smell crime…

Darcy: Hey, there he is. The guy who almost got murdered by his own murder squad.

Director Hayward: You work for me?

Darcy: I actually don’t know.

Monica: *sighs*

Ep. 7, Breaking the fourth wall/ Wanda is having an existential crisis: 

Wanda: Look, we’ve all been there, right? Letting our fear and anger get the best of us, intentionally expanding the borders of the false world we created.

Billy: Do we have to go, Mom? Someone needs to be here to take care of you.

Agnes: Don’t worry, I don’t bite! 

…I actually did bite a kid once.

Ep. 8, Previously on:

Agnes/atha: C’mon. *Going to see Wandas worst memories*

Wanda: No.

Agnes/atha: Did you forget who’s got your kids locked away in her bewitched basement?

Dr. Strange:

Some bad guy: Mr. Strange…

Stephen: Doctor.

Guy: Mr. Doctor?

Stephen: It’s Strange.

Guy: Yes, I know that it’s strange.

Iron Man 2: 

Coulson, walking in: We need you for something.

Pepper: Oh hi Phil!

Tony: His name is Agent.

Spider-Man, FFH:

Peter: I-I can’t do this! I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

Fury: Bitch, you been to space.

Peter: Wha-no- that was by accident!!

Fury: Too Bad.

Spider-Man, NWH:

Norman Osborn: Where exactly are we?

MJ, to the villains trapped in the sanctum: You’re in a wizard’s basement. 

Otto: What?

MJ: There’s no way to sugarcoat this. You’re trapped in a wizard’s basement.

 Tobey’s Peter: okay, Peter 3.

Andrew’s Peter: What? I thought I was Peter 2.

Tom’s Peter: Okay, okay. You’re Peter 2 (Tobey) and you’re Peter 3 (Andrew).

Green Goblin: *stabs Peter 2*

Peter 3: You okay?

Peter 2: Yeah, I’ve been stabbed before.

Peter 3: Ok, good good good.

[Just-the Peters. They’re so…brother. Y’know? And I live for it.

Also, I have resorted to calling Tom’s Peter Peter-Man.]

Wakanda Forever:

Riri: If we could find a way to dry his ass out, he won’t be as strong.

Shuri: Yo, that’s it.

Deadpool:

Wade, counting the bullets he has left while shooting people: 7, shit. 6, fuck, 5, shit-fuck.

Ant-Man and The Wasp, Quantumania:

Scott: You gotta jump and tap. *Knocks out a few people* See that?

Cassie: No, you were like, this small.

[WHY DOES REALISTIC MODOK LOOK LIKE THAT AhhhHHHHhhHHH]

Hawkeye:

Kate: Hey look, that one’s you. *points to Avenger cosplayers*

Clint: No, that’s Katniss Everdeen. Now, let’s go.

Jack: The secret to a good risotto is to…agitate it. Just enough.

Kate: So, how exactly?

Clint: *flashbacks to explosion after explosion* …

Guy with a thick accent who kiddnapped Clint: Kate Bishop is guy, bro.

Clint: Kate Bishop is not guy.

Guy: Kate BIshop is guy in costume.

Clint, Karen Edition: Can I speak to your manager? This is like talking to furniture.

Gotg Vol. 3

Peter: People on Earth die when they’re like, 50.

Mantis: They die when they’re 50???

P: I dunno, something like that.

M: What’s even the point of being born?

P: Exactly! [You good dude]

M: Are you about to die?

P, shocked: I’m not 50!

Mantis: What colour button did you push?

Peter: Blue, for the blue suit!

Nebula: Blue is the open line for everyone.

Mantis: Orange is for blue. Blue is for orange, Yellow is for green, green is for red, and red is for yellow.

Drax: No, Yellow is for yellow, green is for red, and red is for green.

Mantis: How do you know that?

Drax: Try it then.

Mantis, to Peter: HELLLOOOOO.

Peter, feedback ringing in his ears: How the hell was I supposed to know all of that?

Drax: Seems intuitive.

[teenwolf-confessions]

Liam is a Scorpio although he definitely has Leo placements, his confidence and his charm and his sass is very Leo, but I wouldn’t say it’s his sun sign. Brett, Theo and Hayden all transformed from general assholes to soft lil simps purely from having Liam in their life. Scott changed from a lovesick wolf to a responsible fatherly alpha from having to care for Liam - he’s very transformative and leaves an impact on the people around him. He keeps his emotions locked up tight, stubbornly telling everyone he’s fine (watch the zoo scene with Theo - he says ‘I’m fine’ like 7 times). Even in the car after, he doesn’t actually say why he was so freaked out at the zoo, he is very tight lipped and Theo holds most of the conversation. When we first see him, he also purposely restrains from telling Scott and Stiles that he was kicked out, simply saying he was transferred - very private like a scorpio. he also isn’t opposed to emotional manipulation i.e. crying to get Scott and Stiles to untie him and using Scott’s friendship w Stiles to convince him to let Theo stay. He can also be quite cutting - ‘Should’ve left you in the ground, think you rotting down there….Im not gonna help you or save you, I’m gonna use you as bait’ - knows what to say to hit someone where it hurts. Very observant and smart as well (watch the scene with him sussing out Monroe in S6). His anger is far more long term and lasts, like him holding a grudge against Brett and Theo. Scott tried to talk him down when Liam was trying to kill him but he kept going for ages until Mason, very Scorpio-like anger - very powerful and stubborn. Aries anger is up and down in two seconds hence why he ain’t Aries. His way of tackling things/obstacles far bigger than him through sheer willpower is very Scorpio i.e. taking on a hellhound stronger than Parrish and winning, being thrown through a window and still being able to fight, having his chest slashed open and insisting that he’s fine.

Theo is Pisces for sure. People will be screaming Scorpio but he’s not. Pisces are like chameleons, they morph into and blend in with their environment - the doctors wanted him to be a manipulative murderer and from their personas as well, he became that. And he became what qualities were appealing to the pack to try and fool them - very Pisces-esque deception and manipulation. Scorpios also don’t lie, they value authenticity and honesty a lot so they ain’t gonna be pretending to be someone else - they’ll stab you in the front not the back - which is why it ain’t Theo. Plus, the pack, mostly Liam, were selfless, heroic people and Theo became that from being around them - very Pisces chameleon-esque qualities. Also, Theo is so bloody open and emotional. He was in the tunnels with Stiles for like two seconds and soon enough was going off unleashing all his emotions spiralling like ‘I was nine year old, I also believed a red guy came to deliver presents, do you think I had any idea what was going on’ full on having an outburst. He also does this with Liam in the hospital all like ‘What do you think I was doing down there? Catching up on childhood memories?’, he’s literally the least guarded, most reactive person ever lol. Him crying a million times in his two season timespan, with the Sherriff and with Scott lying about Stiles and the doctors telling he was a failure in S5 and in hell and when Liam told him he was sending him back in S6 is also very Pisces. Him being toyed around by Deucalion and Scott through most of 5B so easily is also very characteristic of Pisces’ gullible nature. Wants to prove he’s not a failure, wants to prove he’s a good person, wants to prove he’s powerful, always wants validation - very Pisces. In Season 6, he shows a lot of compassion, empathy and patience on several occasions which is also characteristic of Pisces. His loneliness and finding company in a spider is very Pisces as well. Pisces are also very attached to their subconscious and the realm of dreams so his trauma from hell showing up as nightmares or when he zones out and when he gets to the hospital because of the trauma - very Pisces.

[leavingdeadgirl]

not a lore ask but since you seem to want to ramble: 1 song you associate with each character and why?

Hi anon ily. I did 2 for the first few sorrgy

Lori:

1. Sin Eater by Penelope Scott. The song displays a strong desire to be good from the singer while also expressing a bit of disdain for someone who seems to be better in every way (and is, fittingly, referred to as the “holy mother god”) while also evidently seeking validation from this person that they feel they won’t or can’t get.

Notable lyrics: “you’re the holy mother god and I aspire to your goodness, but the only thing I have inside to offer is a pit / I suffer just to moan, I scratch my itches to the bone / I keep confessing till I hit the spot from which the guilt emits”

2. I Don’t Smoke by Mitski. Again leading into Lori’s longing to do good and be good, to have friends, to be closer to people. Trying too hard for someone distant.

Notable lyrics: “if you need to be mean, be mean to me / I can take it and put it inside of me / if your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room / you can lean on my arm as you break my heart”

Cody:

1. Habits by Tove Lo. Though Cody doesn’t do drugs (this detail is irrelevant and thus subject to change) or have any addiction issues, the song all in all encompasses the life of someone whose every second is spent trying to find even a moment of happiness, living in a daze trying to forget someone they can’t think about.

Notable lyrics: “spend my days locked in a haze, tryna forget you babe, I fall back down / gotta stay high all my life to forget I’m missing you”

(See also: So Numb by TX2)

2. Gross by Penelope Scott. The song is about a breakup, partially, but I also relate Cody to the other end of it, being about the complicated nature of relationships with people around you when you’re mentally ill and being torn between wanting to push those who love you away and wanting to be able to love and show love to them.

Notable lyrics: “I hate it most when they’re kind, when they have meaningful lives / and I’m the awful one standing next to them” & “I’m never gonna feel good again, I’ve played this game through to the end / I’ll pull the plug or I’ll wait it out, but I don’t need you around / I wish I never met you, I wish I wasn’t a waste / I wish I had the guts to fuck my own life up or the heart to set myself straight”

Jane Doe:

1. Pure as a Lamb by Baby Bugs. While it is about abuse specifically in a religious setting, its depiction of abuse and the specific sort of feeling of betrayal expressed makes me think of her. Not to mention the rather simple language used reminds me of Jane, who was between 5 and 10 and, though she was very good at reading and writing, didn’t speak in especially complex language.

Notable lyrics: “you plucked my petals, just like the devil would do / and if I’m going to hell, I hope that you go too” & “now I feel dirty, look what you did / I wasn’t an object, I was a kid / I’m scarred and mangled, I am used / and all of this because of you”

2. The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone. While the song goes into how that Jane Doe doesn’t know who she is or the life she lived, that’s not true of my Jane Doe, but the song does go into the plight of a dead girl whose story is left unknown, never to be mourned or remembered.

Notable lyrics: “I’ve got no celebration / just this consolation: / time eats all his children in the end” & “a melody floats through the air / when silence falls, does no one care? / another sad, forgotten tune / another song that no one knows / so that's how it goes”

The Thing:

1. Monster Truck by Jazmin Bean. Angry as fuck song, pretty violent, but all of Jazmin’s stuff matches an aesthetic and a type of music I associate with The Nursery.

Notable lyrics: “I don’t wanna eat the sun (succubus, fuck, suck you straight to the tomb) / I’ve been living on the run (white lined chalk, take it straight to the dome, dome)” & “make it hard, rocket launcher, fuck / fuck your dirt bike, I’ve got a monster truck” & “and this world is a sick fucking joke, just masters and puppets and mirrors and smoke / so fuck it, let’s light it, let’s to / I’m playing with fire, I’m planning to blow”

2. Brutus by The Buttress. Specifically encompasses its relationship to Lori.

Notable lyrics: “my name is Brutus and my name means heavy, so with a heavy heart I’ll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy / my whole life you were a teacher and friend to me / please know my actions are not motivated only by envy / I too have a destiny / this death will be art / the people will speak of this day from near and afar / this event will be history, and I’ll be great too / I don’t want what you have, I wanna be you”

Emily:

1. Heaven Says. Specifically the Deltarune remix, but I saw a FAITH animation for the song and I’ve associated it with her since

Notable lyrics: “heaven is above / heaven is the answer / life is terror / blood in the machine, you are in danger” & “greater than life / stronger than death / echo around the world / search for the end / answer for your crimes / beg for mercy / take back you control / take back your control / take back your control, control, control, control, control-”

2. Christmas Kids by ROAR. Idk.

Notable lyrics: “the Christmas kids were nothing but a gift / and love is a tower where all of us can live / you change your name or change your mind / and leave this fucked up place behind / but I’ll know / I’ll know”

Sarah Warner:

Class Fight by Melanie Martinez. Sarah was a girl who tended to act out a lot, but always felt totally justified in everything she did and like she was giving people what they deserved when she lashed out or was otherwise doing something good/funny/right.

Notable lyrics: “I wanted to be in her shoes for one day / I just waited till recess to make her pay” & “her face was fucked up and my hands were bloody / we were in the playground, things were getting muddy / the teacher broke us up after I broke her / and my one true love called me a monster”

I don’t have any for the other specific victims but I do have one for all of them:

Fall Fair Suite (the opening) from Ride the Cyclone. All of them dying in “accidents” just makes me think of the RTC kids’ reactions to the accident that killed them, and I think they’d feel similarly.

Notable lyrics: the whole thing, more or less.