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#sorry if you were expecting something cool
steddieas-shegoes · 18 hours
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hidden lace
for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts 'sneaking around' and 'lingerie'
rated e | 18+, minors dni or i will tell your mother | 2852 words | check ao3 for all tags
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Steve is pissed at Eddie.
Like, genuinely pissed.
Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed.
The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him.
And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.
But see, Steve had been given incorrect information about what they would be doing tonight. He’d been told they’d be having dinner alone and then going to the quarry alone and probably going back to Steve’s house alone.
When they showed up at the diner to a table full of Eddie’s bandmates, Steve’s teeth gritted together to hold back saying something much more rude than he intended.
It was fine, though, because Steve did actually like hanging out with the guys despite their rough start. They were some of the few people who knew about Steve and Eddie’s relationship, so they didn’t feel like they had to hide anything.
Well, Steve did tonight.
He was wearing his usual clothes, of course, but underneath, he was wearing a lingerie set. Something Eddie had been begging him to wear for months now, something Steve had tried on at least 20 times before only to hurry out of them because it felt too good. He figured with how much they’d be alone tonight, he could get used to the feeling of the lace against his skin at dinner and then surprise Eddie with it when they got to the quarry.
It’s all he’s thought about since Eddie picked him up.
He’s certain it’s written all over his face throughout dinner. Gareth keeps shooting him these looks like he knows Steve’s hiding something, and Jeff has asked him if he’s okay at least three times since they sat down. Frankie doesn’t say anything, but he does hand Steve a joint when no one else is looking and tells him to relax a little.
If Steve was smart, he probably would have snuck a few hits from it before Eddie got in the van.
“That was fun,” Eddie said as Steve contemplated trying to run back inside to the bathroom so he could strip the lace off and shove it into his pockets.
“Uh huh.”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you they’d be joining us, sweetheart.”
Steve gives him a half-hearted smile. “That’s okay. Um, are we seeing anyone else tonight?”
“Oh! There’s a bunch of people hanging at the quarry. I think even Robin’s gonna be there.”
Steve nods a little too enthusiastically to be convincing. “Cool. Sounds good.”
Eddie’s eyes are on him, intense. “You don’t sound happy about it. Thought you’d be a little more excited about hanging with Robin. You just told me yesterday you haven’t gotten to spend time with her outside of work for weeks.”
“No, you’re right,” Steve sighs. “I just wasn’t expecting to be…social.”
“We planned a date?” Eddie sounds genuinely confused, as if he doesn’t know the difference between hanging out one on one and in groups.
“Yeah, I just.” Steve sighs again. “It’s fine. Let’s go hang out with people.”
Eddie looks like he wants to push and understand why Steve is suddenly so worried about being around people, but Steve leans in to kiss him quickly, just a soft peck on the lips. He smiles and Eddie smiles back.
Instant distraction.
Eddie has admitted before that Steve has a way of making him go completely dumb. Some would call it dick brain, but it’s not even that he gets hard about it. He just feels like all thoughts have left the building.
Like Elvis, man,, he’d said when Robin asked what his deal was after Steve had kissed him goodbye at work.
As Eddie drives them to the quarry, Steve shifts in his seat. He’s not uncomfortable, but he definitely worries that he will be when all eyes are on him. Maybe they won’t know that he’s nearly bursting out of blush pink panties and a matching bralette that rubs against his nipples in a way that feels like Eddie’s teeth when they’re teasing him. But maybe they will.
But are his nerves because he’s worried people will know?
He can feel his dick hardening against the damp lace.
No, he doesn’t think he’s all that worried about people seeing him in lingerie.
Eddie’s door slamming is the only thing that alerts him to their arrival. He blinks and opens his door so he can hop out, but he’s immediately frozen when he feels the head of his dick rubbing against his jeans.
So maybe next time he can buy a size up. Or find some made for men. Do they make them for men?
“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice is against his ear, sending chills down his spine as his hand ghosts between his shirt and waistband. “You sure you don’t wanna go home?”
“I’m sure,” Steve shivers.
“We won’t stay for long,” he promises.
Steve just nods.
He does what he’s supposed to at these things: makes smalltalk with people he doesn’t know that well, hangs around Eddie and Robin as much as possible, smiles and laughs when appropriate.
But his brain is gone.
Well, it’s there, but it’s made of lace and the sweat beading at his brow despite the fall chill.
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, but he thinks he’s gonna have to go soon.
Eddie’s fingers grasp his forearm.
“Steve.”
Steve looks at him.
Eddie knows.
His face is flush and his pupils are huge, looks like he would bite a bruise into Steve’s neck right now, in front of all these people.
“Van. Now.”
The van is surrounded by cars. Empty cars, but still cars that belong to people.
Steve should probably just explain what’s going on, and then maybe they could just go back to Steve’s house and never bring this up ever again.
But he doesn’t. He knows they’re about to fuck in Eddie’s van, and he knows everyone at this gathering is busy, and he thinks maybe this will be the night that someone finds out exactly what Steve and Eddie are to each other.
Eddie doesn’t let go of his arm as they walk, which puts them both at a strange angle. No one seems to notice, but Steve’s not sure he’d be aware of anyone looking their way at this point. His brain is fuzzy, and all he can think about is Eddie stripping him down to the lace barely covering him in the back of his van.
No one is near the cars when Eddie opens the backdoor of his van and gently nudges Steve inside. No one is there to see the way Eddie watches him fall face first on the blanket he keeps laid out, barely holding back a groan at the way Steve’s ass is up in the air, taunting him even while fully clothed. No one except Steve feels his heartbeat racing as Eddie closes the door and grips his calf.
“You’ve been on edge all night. I was starting to worry you were sick or I’d pissed you off, but it’s not either of those things, is it?” Eddie leans over Steve’s back, bracketing him in until he has no choice but to fall flat against the blanket. “You wanna be fucked.”
Steve whines.
“But why? You knew we’d go to your house later. You knew I’d take care of you. So why are you acting like this?” Eddie continues, breath hot against Steve’s neck.
His hand ghosts under Steve’s shirt, fingers trailing against his skin and leaving goosebumps along the way.
Steve’s breath catches when he feels Eddie’s touch pause against the line of lace across his back.
“Stevie. What’s this?” Eddie sounds much calmer than he probably is.
“It’s a…bra. It’s a bra.”
Eddie’s forehead falls to Steve’s shoulder blade, and he lets out a huff. It may be a laugh or it may be a sigh, or it may be anything else.
“I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, sweetheart.”
His lips are soft against Steve’s neck.
Steve melts further into the blanket, but can’t completely relax until Eddie’s seen– or felt– everything.
“Um, there’s more,” he says as he starts to turn over so he can face Eddie. “And it might be a little weird and it might not even look good anymore because I’ve been hard for most of the night, but-”
Eddie silences him with a kiss to his lips, the taste of the last cigarette he smoked still on his tongue.
He keeps kissing him, even when Steve moans and bucks his hips up, seeking friction that’s easily found. His hand traces the waistband of Steve’s jeans, a fingertip dipping just past the denim to find what Steve’s been hiding.
“Oh.”
Steve smiles nervously. He knows Eddie would never make him feel bad, even if he didn’t happen to like the lingerie, but he’s still nervous. He still wants Eddie to like it, to like the way he fills them out, to like him.
“Can I see?” Eddie asks, eyes wide with awe and cheeks blushing the same pink as Steve’s panties.
Steve nods because he doesn’t think he’ll sound confident if he says anything out loud.
Eddie slides his pants off quickly, but his hands are gentle, almost reverent in the way they glide across Steve’s thighs.
He doesn’t say anything, just gestures for Steve to sit up so he can pull off his shirt.
When Steve’s been stripped down to only pink lace, he’s warm and anxious.
Eddie’s eyes don’t know where to go, zipping from his nipples barely visible through the thick floral pattern covering them down to the see-through wetness of his cock leaking through the thin material. Steve waits for him to say something, can’t interrupt whatever thoughts he’s having right now.
“You look beautiful, Stevie.”
It settles something in him, some last nerves that he knew wouldn’t go away without Eddie’s confirmation that this wasn’t a waste of time or money.
“I do?”
Eddie’s palm cups his cock through the panties. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When did you get these?”
Steve shrugs because he doesn’t really remember anymore, and even if he did, it’s not important. What matters is that Eddie fucks him while he wears them, and that he goes to buy more on his next trip into the city.
It’s softer than Steve expected.
Eddie’s taking it slow, touching him everywhere, letting his fingers trace the patterns of the lace and smiling when Steve shivers under his attention. He seems mesmerized and Steve feels adored, loved.
Usually, Steve prefers feeling Eddie’s skin against his, but the way his clothed cock brushes against the lace panties, and the way his chest rubs against the bra, it’s a constant reminder that Steve did this to feel nice and for Eddie to look at him.
“Fuck me,” Steve whispers against his lips when he feels his stomach tighten. “Please fuck me.”
“Here? You sure you don’t want me to just suck you off?”
Steve thinks about the people crowded near the coolers and picnic tables not too far away.
“Yeah, here. I need you.”
He knows Eddie can’t resist that.
Now, Eddie’s quick, but no less gentle, as he opens Steve up on his fingers. The lube he keeps in the van is finally getting some use.
Steve arches into it, sighing out the pleasure Eddie gives, keeping as quiet as possible in case someone decides to come back to their car before they finish.
He’s got panties pushed to the side, his precum dribbling onto his stomach, and Eddie’s raspy voice in his ear telling him everything he’s gonna do to him when they’re home. Steve can get off with just this, has gotten off to this before.
“You ready?” Eddie finally asks him, pulling his fingers out so he can wipe them off and get his own pants pulled down.
“Been ready. Could’ve fucked me ten minutes ago,” Steve replies with a smirk.
His head is fuzzy, but the knowledge that they could be caught keeps him present, keeps him aware of everything happening in a way he knows he wouldn’t be if they were in the privacy of his room.
“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie jokes as he lines himself up, pushing the lace further out of the way. “I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re too soft for that tonight.”
“Someone’s feeling sappy,” Steve gasps as Eddie enters him slowly. He lifts his head to watch as Eddie bottoms out, his cock rubbing against the side of the panties. “Fuck.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Eddie groans. “You feel so good. You look so good. I wanna eat you out when we get home.”
Steve nods as his hands grip the blankets. “Yeah. I have a-” Steve whines as Eddie shifts slightly, changing the angle so he brushes against Steve’s prostate. “I have a plug.”
“How the hell did you sneak that in here?”
“Yesterday when you were in the shower,” Steve laughs breathlessly. “Fuck, Eds. So good.”
Eddie is focused now, on not coming or coming, Steve can’t be sure.
“God, you have to wear these all the time,” Eddie groans as his hand creeps up to his chest, thumb rubbing against one of Steve’s nipples. “I want you in every color. Wanna see you in red, and blue, and black, and fuckin’-- what other colors are there?”
Steve giggles. “Purple…yellow…fuck.”
Steve’s gonna come and Eddie’s gonna follow right behind him, he can tell. Eddie’s thrusts are erratic but accurate, always hitting the spot that makes black spots appear in the corner of Steve’s vision and his limbs tingle with warmth and sunshine.
“You’re so good to me, fuck, Stevie. I love you,” Eddie squeezes his thigh as he parts his legs further. “You’re mine.”
“Yours. Yours,” Steve’s head falls back as he shakes through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had. He can’t catch his breath, and he feels overstimulated within seconds. “Eddie, need you.”
Eddie always gives him what he needs.
They’re both coming down still when someone bangs on the back door of the van. Steve sits up so quickly, he almost breaks Eddie’s nose.
“Yeah!” Steve yells, pushing Eddie off of him, barely containing a whimper when his cock is no longer filling him.
“If you two wanna get dressed before people start heading to their cars, now would be a good time!” Robin whisper-yells against the door.
“Got it!” Steve yells back, already trying to slide his pants back on despite the mess on his stomach and dripping from his hole.
Eddie places his hands on Steve’s, making him pause for a moment.
“Did you do this for me or for you?” He asks, suddenly shy.
Steve couldn’t help feeling a little proud of the fact that he was maybe the only person Eddie Munson ever got shy around.
“I did it for both of us. And I promise I’ll do it again if you let me get dressed so we don’t get caught.”
Eddie beams at him, kisses his cheek, and starts to pull his own pants back up, wincing when his boxers cling to his sensitive and wet dick.
“We’ve gotta plan better for these things,” he complains.
“I planned just fine.”
“The plug!” Eddie’s eyes widen in panic. “Where is it?”
“We don’t have time,” Steve groans, but he looks over his shoulder at the bag he keeps behind the passenger seat. It’s mostly full of snacks and Tylenol, sometimes a change of clothes if he knows he’s staying with Eddie. Last night he managed to get a plug in there. “Okay! Okay, fine. Just, go start the car.”
Eddie claps his hands together excitedly and grins. “As you wish, my liege.”
Steve rolls his eyes fondly. He reaches down to ease the plug in, biting back a whimper at the soreness he feels. They weren’t even rough tonight, couldn’t be, yet Steve feels like they just went for three rounds.
“If it hurts, don’t do it, sweetheart,” Eddie says from the driver’s seat.
“No, it’s good. I’m good,” he says as he pulls his pants up and slips his shirt on.
Eddie glances over his shoulder and frowns.
“Why the face?” Steve asks.
“I can’t see the lace.”
“Eddie…”
“I know! But I’m speeding on the way home.”
Steve slides into the passenger seat and looks out the window to make sure no one is directly next to them. When he doesn’t see anyone except Robin walking back towards the party, he leans over to kiss Eddie’s cheek.
“Thank you for letting me try something new.”
Eddie blinks over at him. “Thank me? Thank you. Holy shit, Steve. You’ve never been hotter than you are right now.”
“Okay, okay. Drive us home so I can ride you.”
“Fuck. Okay.” Eddie puts both hands on the steering wheel. “Focus, Eddie.”
“You’re such a dork,” Steve laughs.
“I’m living my dream right now.”
Steve can’t agree more.
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certifiedsexed · 9 hours
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Hey, excuse me, I have a question about consent.
Soo I don't want to vent or go into details.
Basically, during class, this person would cuddle me/touch me/whatever
He did grab my boobs a few times but he apologized for touching my thigh/getting close to my vagina without realizing
He made me super uncomfortable by touching me all the time.
The thing is, when he asked if it was okay, I said "sure, I guess."
That's verbal consent, right?
I shouldn't expect him to read in between the lines of my words, especially as someone who can't pick up on social cues myself
Um. Ask questions for clarification if you want. Basically I just want to know if the situation was just miscommunication or like something I should've pressed charges for. I didn't because I thought I verbally consented/he didn't have bad intentions but I'm second guessing what happened, especially because all my friends are telling me he's a sex offender because of it.
Sorry if this is difficult/uncomfortable/I'm in the wrong here! I genuinely don't know what to think about the situation and I just kinda want closure
Please explain to me if I'm in the wrong though. I'd like to be as open-minded as possible
Okay, so here's the thing, Anon.
A: It's not okay for this person to be grabbing your boobs without explicitly asking "Can I touch your boobs". Asking afterwards, even if you said yes, doesn't make it okay for him to do that.
B: If he asked "Hey, is it okay if I touch you all the time" and you said yes, that is a form of consent. [That doesn't mean you're not allowed to be uncomfortable, or say stop, or that it was okay for him to be touching your boobs or near your vagina.]
But if he just asked if it was okay for him to be touching you, especially if it was after he'd already been touching you before, it's not okay for him to be touching you whenever he wants without explicitly asking. And it's not cool if he asked after he'd already been touching you.
It's especially not cool if he didn't check in with you, to ask and make sure you were actually okay with it and he could continue touching you whenever. That's not how consent works.
C: I don't know about pressing charges but I do know you're allowed to be upset about it, that you're actually allowed to revoke your consent [i.e. say "stop" or "I don't want you to be touching me anymore] at ANY time.
It doesn't matter what his intentions were, he still violated your consent period by grabbing your boobs without your permission! You're not "in the wrong" for being uncomfortable or upset about it all, even if you gave him consent.
I'm not sure if this helped or not but lemme know! Especially if you have anymore questions. <33
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lowkeyrobin · 3 days
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hiii! hope you’re having a good day/night/whatever :D i was wondering if you could do something where the reader was fives (almost ?) s/o and then after learning about him and lila theyre upset. and then reader and diego sort of bond over the feeling and find solace in their friendship with each other. i mean this in like a thing for diego sort of way, the five thing is just a backstory. sorry if this is hard to understand english is hard
oooo okay this is cool!! ; and don't worry it's not hard to understand at all! your English is very good 🫶 ; but we are gonna pretend five wasn't trapped in his teenage body for all the time reader would've known him or wtv 💀 cause the physical and mental gap between diego and five is diabolical and idk how else to make it not weird. I usually say and enforce that I won't recognize the five/lila thing as canon but this is relevant to the story and I need diego requests lol. ; but uh yeah!! thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy!! ; also the ending part lowkey sucks I'm sorry
DIEGO HARGREEVES ; it's called moving on
summary ; after Five and Lila get trapped in the subway, they have a double affair on you and Diego. after saving the world, you both bond over it and move on (to each other)
warnings ; language, cheating, arguing / physical fighting, knives, alcohol
disclaimers ; five is in the physical body of a 30-ish year old to make this not creepy as hell on any parts. I have a distinct hatred for whatever tf happened w Lila and Five so don't expect to see anything nice about them... ; also reader is a sparrow, didn't wanna get incest-y in here...
word count ; 1.5k
masterlist
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Klaus, Allison, and Luther sit on the couch, watching over the kids while you and Diego rush to the door. Five and Lila had been MIA for hours now, you were both growing worried. Luckily, it was them standing at the doorstep.
"Where've you been?" Diego asks, slightly worried. "It's been hours"
"Seven, at that" you raise an eyebrow at Five. "You've never just gone MIA for that long. Did you find anything out on how to stop all this shit? Cause we did"
Five is unable to look you in the eye. "Uh, not really. What'd you learn?"
"Well, for one, Dad's alive, so is our mother... I think?" you begin, pulling him inside. "She's not really our mom, but she's Dad's wife, or whatever. Our actual birth mother's are alive in this timeline. And your Ben died because your Reginald shot him in the head! We think fate is coming together cause my Ben and Jennifer are together and we have to stop them-"
Diego and Lila step in behind you, joining you all in the living room. Lila's family stand in the kitchen, coming together to make some Christmas dinner food for the upcoming days. You can't help but notice both Five and Lila can't look you in the eye, how they look tired and haven't spoken damn near a word.
You four stand in the middle of the living room, shoes off to Lila's family's rules, your socks digging into the carpet. Allison, Luther, and Klaus part their attention between the kids and you four.
Diego looks down at Lila's wrist, seeing a glare from the sunlight outside on something she was wearing. He quickly grabs her wrist, confused of what she could've been wearing, as she didn't like bracelets, at least not store bought ones. She wouldn't have gone on a run to get herself a bracelet, right? I mean, what?
Diego furrows his brows at her while you press a chaste kiss to Five's forehead.
"I thought you hated bracelets?" Diego mutters, grabbing the attention of the siblings who sit on the couch.
Lila looks at him with fake confusion, trying to brush it off. "No, I don't"
"Yeah, you do" Diego nods. "I got you one for Valentine's Day and you traded it in for a Dyson vacuum."
You and Five look to Diego and Lila, listening in.
Lila is silent. "I don't like store bought ones. I kept the bracelet you made for me in that mental institution"
She had him on that one.
"Who made it, then?" Diego asks firmly.
She's silent. Five looks away from Diego.
Diego looks to him, then back at Lila. He frees Lila's wrist from his grasp, staring Five down. You look between him, Diego, and Lila, connecting the dots.
"Five?" You question, eyebrows furrowed, your voice unsure.
Diego reaches for his back pocket.
Five stuffs his hands in his pockets, head held low.
"Is there something going on between you two?" Diego asks nervously, looking between Five and Lila.
"Diego-" Lila speaks
"Holy shit, wow" Diego scoffs, looking down at her.
Klaus' jaw drops, Luther and Allison beside him share shocked expressions. You look back at the three, unable to react as you're caught frozen in the moment.
"Woah"
"Holy shit"
"I didn't see that one coming"
"Holy shit, I was right" Diego looks between the two, "I knew you were cheating on me!"
You shove Five into the wall, far enough away from the TV and the kids to not effect them physically. Diego hurls a knife at him, just missing his skull by a few centimeters, a purposeful act. He merely did it to scare Five. The knife creates a hole in the wall and a loud thudding noise that catches the family's attention.
Diego turns his attention back to Lila, you looking over your shoulder to listen. "I knew you were cheating on me at that book club"
Lila sighs. "I wasn't cheating on you... not when you thought I was"
You turn back to Five, lips slightly parted, your expression soft yet heavy. He isn't able to speak a word to you. He steps away from the stabbed wall, walking toward you. He reaches for you and you push him away.
"Y/n-"
"No!" you shudder, then speak firmly. "Get away." you back away toward Diego, unable to look at him.
"Maybe we should go-" Luther speaks, seeing how the three were witnessing an awful thing right now.
"No, we're not going anywhere" Allison replies, an arm over him to prevent him from going anywhere.
Diego steps forward, looking at Five in the eye. "Five, did you s-k-r-e-w my wife?" he spells out 'screw' since a bunch of kids under thirteen sit no more than six feet away.
"Screw is spelled s-c-r-e-w" Grace chimes in with a smile, unaware of the situation because of her small little mind.
Klaus snorts, failing at holding back laughter. Allison bites her tongue while Luther deeply sighs, keeping his laughter at bay.
Five bites his lip before slowly nodding.
"What the fuck?!" you exclaim, slinging a quick punch to his face, causing his nose to bleed.
He groans, holding a hand to his nose. He doesn't rebute, knowing he deserved that and much more.
"Are you kidding me?" you question, looking between Five and Lila. "What the actual shit is wrong with you two?!"
Lila's family peers through the kitchen door, halfway understanding what you all were saying as they weren't perfectly fluent with English. You wished you could speak Punjabi to tell them how their daughter cheated and how your boyfriend was a fucking homewrecker.
"Y/n, please," Lila speaks, trying to calm you, holding a hand out to you.
You slap her hand away, and back up toward the siblings on the couch. Klaus holds a hand over his mouth, Luther watches in silence, Allison bites her tongue.
"You're fucking unbelievable."
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You cut contact with Five, Diego cut most contact with Lila and kept the kids 70% of the time. Lila paid child support, the extent of their conversations other than the kids.
It'd been a few years since your brother had to be killed. You'd been struggling a lot. In between Ben's death and the whole Five and Lila thing, you weren't okay, you didn't think you ever would be.
Most the family didn't talk to either one after the whole incident. They'd luckily sided with you and Diego. Allison still talked to Lila, but she'd created herself a whole new life, so the two didn't talk that much.
Life moves on, shit happens.
You lived near Diego, the two of you often going out with the kids to still create some sort of happy family dynamic for them. From lunch to movies, to road trips and rollercoasters, you'd do anything for those kids. You felt so bad knowing there was no way to repair Diego and Lila's relationship, wishing the kids got to have more time as a proper family.
Diego sat with you on the couch, no kids in trail this time. They were with Lila this weekend. Fruity concoctions rest in your hands, the television in front of you playing some dumbass action movie.
"People clearly don't like three children on the man they're going on a date with," Diego chuckles. "My kids come first, sorry."
You smile. "At least you're humbled and know what you're living for, what's important."
He raises an eyebrow, confused about what you're implying.
You see that look and clarify. "I dunno what I'm living for anymore. My brother's dead. My ex cheated on me and all I feel is fucking angry day in and day out. I don't know anymore"
Diego's face grows soft. "Moving on isn't easy."
You nod. "It's harder to do it alone"
He's silent for a moment before speaking up. "Maybe we don't have to do it alone?"
You raise an eyebrow. "What're you implying, Di?"
He shrugs, looking into your eyes. "Whatever you want to think I'm implying"
"...but the kids, that's gonna be so confusing-"
"You love the kids. I know you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been on all these adventures with us, you wouldn't have asked me yourself to make plans and come over. I know you feel the way I do."
You're both quiet, thinking over your own and the other's words.
"Maybe" you shrug.
"Maybe? I'm allowed to get my hopes up?"
"Calm down, pal" you chuckle. "Not so soon, let's like... ask the kids. I'd feel bad not asking how they felt. They're my priority, they come before us"
Diego nods. "Glad you feel that way. We should get married ASAP." he chuckles, nudging you with his shoulder.
You smile, taking a sip of your beverage. "Feels wrong to even think about this, y'know?"
"It's called moving on. It's normal, I promise"
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aboringredmop · 1 day
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k still don't know how im gonna post the videos (YouTube? unlisted?someone please help) but I can't sleep so I thought it'd write down whatever I remember happening!
(edit: here's the full recording! )
Becky and Joe walked on stage wearing sunglasses and red leather jackets and threw 3 of the trio plushies into the crowd. didn't get one unfortunately but it's really cool some people got free plushies :)
they made this robot child called the Inspiration Child, who's clearly meant to be a nod to ai (can learn from our show and generate it's own content!)
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they explained how they met (and had some dodgy animated retelling), and how they started with small projects like commercials and music videos, until they came up with designs of the trio (and a mysterious fourth fella)
they made the designs first, then made the set, then the song and finally wrote the script for creativity. red guy was just a red mop head with legs at first ("alien squid thing") but Joe put the red guy head on for shits and giggles once and Becky thought it was hilarious so they kept it in the show
they were really not expecting it to blow up, and when Sundance called because they wanted to show creativity Becky thought it was a scam caller lol
they talked about the kickstarter and the credit card fraud kid. the mailed him saying "hey maybe dont do that" but the kid didnt know how to undo it cuz he just found a website full of credit card information and went ham, so Becky and Joe had to contact kickstarter because people were pulling out of the funding because they thought the project was overfunded (kickstarter was very difficult to contact)
they also made (lighthearted) fun of nsfw fluffybird art ((no padlock 😔) "using OUR characters to act out their SICK FANTASIES" - Becky) and theorists, especially because most if not all of the webseries is just them fucking around.
Inspiration Child also says something along the lines of "wow what a cool show with a great message of how corrupt the media is. I hate the media!"
Becky and Joe had these rules to make the show as vague as possible (no pop culture references, no names, no swearing and way too much detail put into small things)(the duck guy drag queen absolutely obliterates the no swearing rule lol)
they talk about the pilot, how they focused too much on the story because they felt like they had to due to it being on the big screen now, and how it ended up ruining the atmosphere and such of the pilot. they did show the entire thing sped up but my phone sucks ass so I could not get it to focus correctly. I'll see what I can salvage so you people can dissect frames of your blorbo you're Legally Not Allowed To See (which is also the official reason we don't get the pilot)
also pilot concept art showed that Mean Steve is in fact just called Key
they showed a whole post-it wall full of ideas for the tv show. don't know how much I got on footage, but what stood out most to me were 2 episodes called Money and Christmas. Joe mentioned "clock in a wheelchair" specifically
also really fun fact. Becky made the Lesley suit during covid, and pretty much threatened Baker into writing a human character into the show to wear it. concept art also shows Lesley with a mask made out of the same fabric, don't know if this was part of the original suit tho
they showed Warrens old models (?). he was gonna be a wayy more ugly looking silicone pug-worm thing y'all got lucky with the bald fuck
lily and todney were directly based off of some cancelled show about two porcelain doll children with panda parents. do not for the life of me remember what it was called but Becky and Joe were very enthousiastic about it (UPDATE: Candy and Andy!)
international release of the show soon!
Inspiration Child talks about what he's learned and sings a little song, then generates his own dhmis inspired content of a cult meeting in a forest at night. the dhmis Discord server called this "potential new content" but I doubt it
3 cultists walk on stage, face the screen backs to the crowd, drop their cloaks and boom! drag queens!!!
they were not mentioned on the site or during earlier parts of the show at all so they were a complete surprise. I asked Becky about it later during the night and she said she really wanted them there, so she asked and they were excited to! hope this means more official content with them soon I love them
they dance to There's Three Of Us, then Duck lipsings the shredder song which turns into a techno remix while Red and Yellow dance during the background
then Duck and Yellow make out while Red tries to undress to the instrumentals of the Fucked Up Part of Creativity but can't get out of his suit on time before the song ends
the drag queens, Becky and Joe and the Inspiration Child walk around during the meet and greet later and I got signatures from all of them! except inspiration child he didn't have thumbs
the drag queens were so fucking funny. Duck adopted inspiration child and loudly yelled at everyone to "GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING CHILD" (their duck voice is sooo good). yellow stood in a corner staring at a wall for like 10 minutes and red was constantly awkwardly hovering just outside the frames of pictures (and also could not see shit lmao)
Becky liked my shirt! (the one with the melting trio heads) said she handdrew it
I'll post the signatures and some more stuff tomorrow because it is. 5 am
edit Heres the signatures! yellow guys is Italian I think? and means hi I love you :)
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(the liyskaen is duck trying to spell my name. they got pretty close)
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cayleeuhithinknot · 3 days
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❛ TENT TEMPTATIONS ❜
𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉. . .during a fun camping trip with your friends, you end up bonding with the person you swore you hated. all over a tent.
cw: SMUT WITH PLOT, making out, unprotected p in v (wrap it please), cursing, use of pet names and y/n, oral (m receiving), getting caught kinda (oop), hair pulling, bigdick!chris (oop), softdom!chris and sub!reader. and probably more but i might’ve forgot😭 also not proofread (SORRY)
-ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛-
“who’s idea was this again?” madi asks, the sound of her boots mushing on the soil like nails on a chalkboard.
“chris. who else would choose something as dumb as this to spend our weekend doing?” you reply, trudging through the leaves and branches. chris scoffs, shoving you lightly.
“you might wanna hit the gym more, y/n. i’m chilling.” he boasts. and very evidently, chris is lying. the sweat beading up and trickling down the side of his face, the way he took ragged breaths, and the pink hue forming on his pale skin were all indications that the stupid, exhausting trip up to your camping site was getting to him.
just like it was getting to you and the other 3.
usually, the triplets will drag you around to do all this stuff in the woods. but, madi? she doesn’t get out in the wilderness much. not necessarily that you were very cut out for it either. madi seems to have it the worst out of the 5 of you.
she’s been complaining about it ever since the first hour of the trip.
nick and matt were taking it more dramatically than you’d expected. matt swears he’s some wilderness and nature expert, but once you bring him in the woods, he’ll start telling you that every little leaf—even the harmless ones—is poison ivy.
“oh my gosh, we need to take a break,” nick huffs, stopping in his tracks to bend down and rest his hands on his thighs. “i know right—chris, how much longer?” matt agrees, expectantly turning to look at chris for an answer.
“an hour. how many times have i told you guys that it’s a 3 hour trip?” chris snaps back, making you roll your eyes.
this omniscient, cocky, egotistical attitude of his was starting to make you mad. he’d been acting this way the entire trip. going on and on about how he was the “leader” or something. and you’d have to endure it for a grand total of 2 days.
so far, you’ve been putting up with it for 2 hours straight, and you’ve gotten to the point where one singular impertinent comment or remark will make you burst.
it’s worse than the sun burning your scalp, your achy back, and your sweat ruining your freshly washed hair. so much for that everything shower the night before…
“we’re not taking another fucking break, nick! just push through.” chris follows up.
madi rolls her eyes too, shooting you a look to which you just shrug. a snarky “i told you so” rests at the tip of your tongue. it wasn’t your idea after all. when chris first proposed this idea to you, you’d warned him that this was how it was gonna go. but, of course, he didn’t listen.
you were no stranger to his stupid endeavors. in fact, you were possibly the person that was the most familiar with his sometimes irritable personality.
but, was he your bestfriend?
one might call him that.
but, is he also incredibly annoying and you can’t stand to be alone with him for more than 20 minutes?
yes. yes, he is.
the final hour passes, but it feels like 3 more with each aching step.
“this the campsite?” madi asks. she’s out of breath and water, just like everyone else.
“yeah,” you manage to get out, taking in the scenery and the woodsy smell.
“dude, this is crazy!” matt shouts, excitedly wrapping his arms around nick’s neck and ruffling his hair. this was right up matt’s alley.
“ouch, dude—yes, yeah, so cool” nick agrees, attempting to pry his brother off of him.
the near 3 hours of what felt like the five stages of grief were instantly made worth it after all.
the sparkling lake in the very back, the colorful flowers and whimsical trees, the animals chirping?
it’s beautiful, mesmerizing, and screams relaxation.
oh, who are you kidding? nothing could repair 3 ongoing hours of enduring christopher sturniolo.
“alright, let’s set up tents,” you sigh, stepping toward the grassy patch under a nice shady tree.
“i want that spot,” chris says, standing right in front of you. “too bad. take that one.” you say, pointing to the tree beside yours with a tight-lipped smile. chris scoffs at that, messing up your hair before walking past to the tree you’d pointed at.
you irritatedly readjust your hair, watching nick and matt goof around and nearly pushing each other into the glistening lake.
“i wish i was that careless…” madi mumbles to you, shaking her head as she watches them as well. “me, too…” you agree, fumbling with one of the tents bars.
everything had been going dandy with the set-up process of your tent. but, one bar simply won’t stay where it needs to.
frustrated, you drop the bar in the grass, watching half of the tent cave in on itself as you crouch down to try and further examine the issue. a couple of footsteps can be heard from behind you, a chuckle accommodating them.
“need help with that?” chris asks, getting down to your level, his eyes scanning the scattered pieces in the dirt.
“obviously.”
chris tsks, hands going straight to work to reassemble your tent. you can tell he’s making an effort to stay focused in your presence, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his tongue every now and then darting out to swipe over his pink lips.
your eyes travel down to his veiny hands working on building this contraption. “you done?” he taunts, waving his hand in front of your face.
“huh?—“
chris clicks his tongue, an amused smirk spreading across his face.
“i said are you done?” he repeats himself, and you just now notice that he’s finished setting up your tent. “with what?” you ask, already deeply annoyed with this attitude he’s carrying.
“staring. if you want me so bad, just tell me. use that loud mouth for somethin’ useful, yeah?”
“ew, you’re gross. thanks for the help, but i won’t be sucking your dick in return.”
his smile is insufferable. that low, cocky tone he uses and the way he leans in closer just to tease you.
“how cute. i didn’t even mention that. but, now i guess i know what goes on in your head, huh?” he hums lowly before standing up, leaving you all by your lonesome on the ground.
“oh god, shut up” you scoff. he laughs at you, jogging off toward the rest of the group.
that night, the 5 of you come across a slight problem.
“so, what you’re saying is…you need to go to the store?” chris groans, plopping down in one of the folding chairs you’d brought.
madi nods, “dude, we totally thought one of us had brought the bag of food!”
“for the record, madi and i were fully convinced that nick had it. but, i guess he’s a little…forgetful at times.” matt defends.
“and you’re noticing that now?” you reply, your eyes practically rolling back into your skull.
today, it’s really starting to seem like everyone here shares the same half of a braincell.
“well, no—but, i mean, it was too late anyway—“ nick protests, rubbing the nape of his neck.
you’d all come to the conclusion that nobody managed to bring anything except for the chips that chris had, of course, eaten on the hike to the camp site.
chris pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing with evident frustration.
“now what?”
crickets. literally.
“guys, cmon” you chime in.
madi looks at her phone, “i could call a cab to the main street? it’s only a 25 minute walk there through the woods.”
matt and nick hum.
“okay, sounds like the best option.” you sigh, twirling your hair around your finger. chris looks up at you from his seat.
“yeah, we’ll set up the fire and you guys go to the—“
“no way.” you scoff, looking at chris with wide eyes. he responds with an annoyed laugh, running his hands over his thighs. “seriously?”
“dead serious,” you nod.
silence, once again…
chris practically shoots up from his chair and takes off to the campfire. and for the very first time, the air feels heavy. you awkwardly look back to the other 3, who are staring at you like some deer in headlights.
“yeah, uhm, just go. i’ll take care of him.” you shake your head and they nod, say their goodbyes, and make their way back through the woods to the main street.
a pit forms in your stomach, anxiety creeping up your body as you approach chris. you’ve never felt bad for insulting or bickering with him, mostly because he always returned the behavior.
but this time? it was different. this time, it hurt. something shifted inside of you when you saw his icy blue eyes glimmer, almost like he was hurt himself.
the way his jaw clenches when you approach his visibly angry figure makes you shiver, even in this warm weather.
“what?” he snaps, breaking a branch and throwing the pieces into the little stack he’d created.
“im sorry,” you mutter, the attitude still evident in your voice. there’s a pause.
“you piss me off so much,” he says, locking his eyes on yours. his eyes are dark, almost intimidating. the air gets heavier now. you try to ignore it. ignore the goosebumps creeping onto your arms from his voice.
“we’re equal then.”
his tongue grazes the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowing.
“no, we’re not. we can’t be.”
the anger inside you boils up quickly. “why? because you’re so much better than everyone?” you spit.
"no. because you think i'm insufferable and you don't want me around" he replies, cutting you off.
“what’s not equal about that? you literally hate me-"
“shut up" he says, this time fully cutting you off.
“excuse me?" you laugh out in disbelief,
“i said shut up.”
“you know what? no, because-"
"oh my god will you shut up? ‘I hate you?’ Are you insane?" borderline yelling, his eyes never leave yours, staring you down.
this time, you really don’t have anything to say.
“i ‘hate you’?” he quotes you. “seriously? like i haven’t obviously been in love with you for years? like i can’t take my eyes off you, like the only reason i ‘show off’ is to impress you? like it doesn’t hurt my feelings when you act like it’s the worst thing in the world to be near me?” he rambles.
the words leave his mouth so quickly, neither your mind or his can really catch up. panting, he looks up at you, nervously biting his lower lip, seemingly realizing what he’d just admitted to.
he runs a hand through his messy hair.
“look, i—“
“chris.” now, it’s your turn to interrupt him.
“yea?”
“if you don’t kiss me right now, i’ll kill you.”
at your words, he wastes no time ruthlessly crashing his lips into yours, grabbing you by the waste with greedy hands and pressing your body up to his.
his lips are needy, eagerly dancing against yours, a groan slipping out here and there. you sigh softly, your hands finding his stubbled jaw to pull him impossibly closer.
his teeth bite at your lower lip, making you open up just enough for him to easily slip his tongue in, exploring the new area. a couple of minutes—which felt like days—go by until he breaks it, ragged and heavy breathing coming from the both of you. he rests his forehead against yours.
“holy shit,” you whisper, making a smirk creep across his face before he connects your lips once more. “i need you so bad.” he murmurs into your mouth.
you pull away this time, hands on his shoulders as you take in the beautiful view in front of you. his swollen pink lips, his barely illuminated face, his tousled hair. “if this whole thing was just your tactic to get me to fuck you, you’re gonna drown in that lake.” you laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly. he rolls his eyes, hoisting you up in his arms and making his way to his tent.
“unfortunately, i am embarrassingly madly in love with you, but if you don’t wanna fuck—“
you shut him up by kissing him. “don’t ruin the mood.” you say as he sets you down and you climb into his tent on all fours. his eyes trail down to your ass, how it hangs out of your shorts. he follows in after you once you situate yourself.
as soon as he comfortably gets in next to you, his hands find your hips. “we don’t have a lot of time, pretty. i’ll make it up to you when we get home, yeah?” he says, pulling your shorts and panties down at the same time. you bite your lip, the sound of him taking off his pants adding to your excitement.
“it’s okay chris, i’m as desperate as you are.” your words earn a slap on your ass from him. “so did you imagine sucking my dick?” he teases, grabbing at the soft plush of your ass. “many times.”
chris pulls off his boxers and your eyes travel down, widening at his size. his dick frees from it’s entrapment, tapping his stomach. you hungrily gaze at the precum beading at his tip, it’s an angry pink. “you wanna make those fantasies come true, hm?” he asks, a grin creeping across his face. you nod eagerly, causing a dry chuckle to lowly leave his lips. “c’mon then.”
you get down so that you’re level with his dick and rest your hands on his thighs. you grab the base of it, kitten licking at the tip to tease him a little. you lick a few stripes from bottom to top, earning a guttural groan from chris. he shifts his hand into your hair, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail. “c’mon, y/n.”
you chuckle before slowly taking his length into your mouth. tears immediately start to prick at your eyes. not that you cared, though. chris notices this and gives you some reassurance. “you’re okay, doin’ so good f’me. breathe through your nose, yeah?”
he starts to move your head up and down himself, letting out low moans. “you okay if i go faster, baby?” he asks. you know he’s obviously hoping for a yes. you manage an “uh-huh” and at your words, he’s immediately picking up the pace. the riskiness, the built-up tension, the feel of your mouth around his dick, the sound of your chokes, all of it. it just brings him closer and closer to the sweet release.
“ah, fuck—‘m so close, baby, gonna let me cum in your pretty mouth, hm?” he groans, tossing his head back. once again, you manage a response. “good fuckin’ girl,” he mutters, thrusting his dick into your mouth. next thing you know, a warm, thick liquid is shooting down your throat. he pull you off of him and you swallow the remnants of his orgasm. “did s’good f’me, baby.” he praises, stroking you cheek with his thumb.
“gonna let me fuck you? gonna let me fuck that pussy i’ve been dreamin’ about?” he asks, his fingers trailing down to your pussy. he runs his finger through your slickness, stopping to rub your clit. “y-yes, yes, please” you beg, stuttering over your words at the feel of his finger on your clit.
“mhm, i thought so.” he says, flipping you over. he runs his tip up and down your slit, eliciting a whine to fall from your lips. he finally positions himself at your entrance, teasing you some more. “fuck, you’re so sexy, can i pull your hair?” he groans, positioning his hands on your hips momentarily. “damn, you freak, yeah, you can,” you reply.
a strangled moan leaves your lips when he pushes his entire length into you, one of his hands keeping it’s grip while one goes up to your hair again, gathering it up to pull on it. “fuck, you’re so tight—you’re not a virgin, are you baby?” he huffs, keeping his pace slow for the time-being.
you breathlessly giggle between moans, gripping at the fabric of the tent floor. “no—i’m not, you’re just—fuck—huge,” you manage. he throws his head back again, pulling on your hair while his hips pick up speed significantly, hitting that spot inside you over and over again.
the both of you are trying to keep your moans down, given that there’s another campsite nearby. yours are muffled by the floor of the tent, chris’ low growls only loud enough for you to hear. “you feel so good—i’ve wanted to fuck this tight pussy for ages,” he mutters, letting go of your hair momentarily to harshly pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrust half way.
your knees felt weak, pressing into the ground beneath you. the string in your stomach starts to pull, signaling that you were getting closer. “you’re mine now, right baby? my pretty pussy, my girl?” you let out a high-pitched “yes”, a borderline squeal, followed by a plea of his name. “gonna cum?” he growls, pushing himself as deep as he can inside of you.
you only manage to nod. you’re mind’s practically gone blank, the only thing roaming it is the feeling of chris inside of you. the “string” inside of you is starting fray, threatening to snap any minute. “f-fuck!” you squeal, slapping a hand over your mouth as the string finally snaps. your legs shake, your whole body practically convulsing as you cum on his dick.
“mhm, fuck—‘m cummin’, baby,” chris purrs. his moans are deep, his thrusts slowing but not stopping, just to help the both of you ride out your highs. spurts of his cum coat the walls of your cunt, and you can feel it shooting deep inside of you. a few minutes of silence pass as he rests inside of you. but then, he pulls out, watching the strings of your arousal disconnect from your cunt and cover his entire shaft.
he gently rubs his thumbs over your hips before flipping you back over onto your back. you smile up at him weakly, watching as he cleans the both of you up carefully. he was using a spare towel that was originally for the lake. he pulls your panties and shorts back onto you, slipping his boxers and pants back on afterward. he lays down next to you.
“i, uh..i left marks on your hips. does it hurt? i didn’t really realize how hard i was, uh…gripping.” he asks worriedly, peppering kisses on your cheeks. you shake your head, reassuringly intertwining your hand with his.
“it’s okay. kinda weird to see you bein’ nice, wow.” the urge to tease him returns of course, nudging his nose with yours. chris bites your cheek playfully, then he smothers your face with wet kisses. “stooooop” you whine as a wide smile cracks across your face.
“i’m obsessed with you, jeez, you don’t even know.” he mumbles, cupping your face in his hands.
“should we like…knock or something?” matt says awkwardly.
the 3 of them stand maybe 2 yards from your tent. and they have been for the past 20 minutes, bags in each hand.
“uhm…sure?” madi replies.
“well, at least we know they get along now…” nick sighs, turning around to make his way back to the campfire.
-ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅ ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙ ⑅ˏ͛-
a/n: hi hi!! this was like so fun to write wtf?? i know some of it doesnt make a lot of sense😭 but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!! pleaseee leave requests and asks thank u!!<3 love uuu
tags: @sturn-saturn @xysbree @sturniolos4life16 @emely9274 @pearlzier
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firefly--bright · 2 days
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september coffee
jean kirstein x reader, modern au
summary ; september feels alot like the start of the year. jean brings you pastries while you make coffee, and september feels less daunting than january. warnings ; none! a/n ; im sorry for the last atrocity. please enjoy this domestic slice of life and forget i ever wrote the last one. thanku. also this is just me revealing my mocha recipie. enjoy :3 taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes , @gojo-ana , @ppushable
masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿
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middle tile art creds ; @ppushable !
september feels a lot like the start of the year. more than january, a better fit. maybe it's the air, maybe its the cool breeze, maybe its the fact that your hair falls a little better, maybe its the fact that your coffee tastes like how you know how to make it, or that your music fits the occasion of the leaves falling on the ground. orange, a little soft still, littering the entrance of your apartment building.
or maybe it's none of those. maybe you're reading too much into it. the wind holds your face with its coolness and you think it's okay to breathe a little better. you think it's better to forget you were ever fourteen. its okay if your bedside table is lined with coffee cups, a dark band running on the inside of them, indicating that it has been used well enough to know it isn't forgotten. youre barely there but its okay because the year is just starting - nine months in.
or maybe it's him. his hands in his pockets, waiting outside your door with a brown bag holding croissants and some cheese. the good one, he says, holding a grudge against everything that doesn't meet his taste. his coffee is black and made by you, just how he likes it, sitting on your kitchen counter patiently, cooling down.
maybe he just happens to breathe life into the september's stillness to make it a little fuller. which is an important title to give to someone, akin to god, being the one your risky and dangerous hopes are pinned on, an unknown specter.
he balances his coffee on his laptop, carrying the both of them - dangerous, risky, hopeful. places both on top of the kitchen counter in front of your quarter-made coffee. it's barely starting, the brew of your present concoction being only planned out and the mug is empty when he peers into it, curious.
"what's it gonna be this time?" he asks, taking a sip from his cup with gentle breaths, knowing just how hot the coffee is going to be. this is not hope. no, its the fullness that comes with being with him. being with him is to feel september around you, semi-crunchy leaves on the ground being forgotten by everyone else but you even if you're in your home making an iced mocha.
"you'll see." you say, speaking about hope. he'll see. you'll wait.
he nods, slowly, twice, uncalculated movements that you have somehow counted and known since you'd met him. "show me." he says. this is also not hope, and you dare not to mix the two - his voice isn't a command but its a plea. not a hope, because he knows you enough to know you'd comply. its certainty. not risky, not dangerous. safe and sound in your home, cup of quarter-made coffee, marbled floors, september air, his voice. safe. easy.
you've been too focused on stringing hope together. beady rocks of what people describe as a glimmer. you'd describe it as something more of a small weight. beads. something that required effort to be collected together once they scattered away. hope came with the dangerous of risk and its own existence, a mapped road that you had been down to several times, hoping against hope. but this was good. the little shine in his eyes, looking at you without expectance.
"two spoons of coffee." you start, taking your shitty pack of instant coffee, crumbled at its zigzagged edges, cut unevenly. jean's face scrunches up at your choice, something you cant show you agree with. "why this one?" he grumbles, and you spare him a glance from the corner of your eye.
"its backup coffee." you say, shrugging. the plastic crinkles under your fingers as you slip a spoon inside it.
"backup coffee?" he asks, pushing the cup closer to your spoon - things that dont go unnoticed by you. its not about actions being added up in the end, you think, because you were always taught that it was the sum of all your actions that determined if you were good or bad, but its not. in this moment, you decide that everything - little or big - that he did made your heart feel like it actually mattered. every thing had its own consequence.
"my actual coffee's finished. this is the one i use when i have to wait for the next grocery run to buy the good stuff." you answer, and he hums, his hands folding themselves over his chest, nodding, attentive, certain. You turn your attention to another cabinet – the one containing the sugar and cinnamon – and jean’s attention rests on you. the music sounds different, you think, clearer. another thing about September stillness. Another thing about the normalcy of hopelessness. Despite how big and scary the word sounds; hopelessness isn’t a curse. It doesn’t have to be, not when jean’s eyes are on your hands and the way you turn the cap of the sugar jar, careful, certain. Hopelessness is certain. It’s a favour. it’s the lack of hope, the lack of the blood-curdling risk that comes with it. It’s the lack of the expectation for something to be perfect, you keep thinking, take one spoonful and dumping it on the coffee powder in your less-empty mug.
Another spoon. Your mind shifts - you're going to add chocolate syrup in this, that’s going to have sugar too - you shake some sugar off the spoon and back into it’s jar, grains falling in-between the space of the jar and the mug, spilling on the counter. Hopeless. Jean snickers. “shut up,” you say with a smile of your own, capping the lid back on before moving on to the next step.
“cinnamon?” he asks, tilting his head. You nod, flipping the lid open to the part with tinier holes than the other side and sprinkling some in. “how do you know how much?”
You shrug, but your moves are decisive. “just eyeball it.”
he rolls his eyes, hopeless. “I need measurements.” He says. you scoff. “and you’re going to actually make this?” “yes.” He says as if its obvious, “for when you want it but cant make it.”
Little things. You were always taught about adding things up to make them count more, but this counted just as much. You pause, taking a breath to take in the fact that he admitted to the act of loving you. admitted to the fact that he’d love you into routine.
September air breathes a little more into life.
“just… trust your gut.” You say, a little hopeful, you think, because your heart’s beating a little bit faster. Risky, dangerous. pearls of hope are scattering away from you. in the silence where you don’t speak, jean seems to have made up his mind, giving you a deadpan expression when your eyes meet his. “don’t give me that bullshit.”
“what? I trust your gut. Why cant you trust your gut?” you challenge, closing the lid, placing the bottle on the marbled counter, turning your face towards his. He runs one hand through his hair, shaking his head. “my gut cant even digest lactose.” “and yet you eat blocks of – what is it you got?” “gouda-“ “gouda with wine.” “yeah that’s because…that’s my duty.” You laugh in affectionate disbelief. “then its my duty to drink how much ever cinnamon you put in my coffee.”  
The same silence spreads across the room again. Contemplative, comfortable; an unsaid recognition of your own version of a confession, just as his was. And jean thinks about how you claim you don’t know how to talk about things in a way that make sense and have shape, but then you do. You always somehow find a way to make everything into a prayer, into a sentence that hopes to be something more than itself. And then he thinks about how comforting it is. The fact that he’s the only one that can decode your false bait into its much more real, much scarier reality. Each phrase hoping to be an “I love you” that only jean can hold, seeing it to be something akin to a scripture rather than three countable words.
A duty to make coffee for his beloved; a penance, an act, a confession. And then the duty to drink the coffee if it turns out worse than promised; a recognition, an act, a confession.
You move to get the milk from the fridge. Its half empty, half full, and you pour just enough for the milk to cover the powdery mix in your mug, filling up around one-third of the glass.
“hmm. Milk. Right after you made fun of my disability.” He says. you laugh. It’s a ritual. “being lactose intolerant is a curse, not a disability.” He waves his hand around in dismissal. “whatever,” he says, just as you place your mug in the microwave. The action catches his attention more than the rest of your actions do.
“microwave?” he asks, tilting his head again, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Your hand reaches forward, brushing it back, your fingers tangling in his hair. His eyes flutter, cheeks tainting a watery red.
“helps the sugar melt faster.” You say. You watch his adam’s apple bob, his eyes opening to meet yours, your hand still in his hair. He hums, and you're almost afraid he’s going to fall asleep – standing up, leaning against the marbled kitchen counter, with your hand where its supposed to be, soft strands against your fingertips, just where he’s supposed to be, the slope of his shoulders relaxed, calm, only moving with his breath.
The microwave dings. Once, twice, and you open it before it reaches it’s last beep. Another ritual. The song changes, playing another soft tune, and jean’s shifts his weight from his left foot to his right, scratching the back of his neck and hiding his stupid blush from you even though you’ve already seen it and taken pride in it. You’ll grant him the illusion of having gotten away with it. Just this once.
placing the mug on the counter again, you stir the sugar into the milk and coffee and cinnamon. “how do you know if the sugar’s dissolved?” jean asks. He leans back to his left foot, shifting closer to you. his chest is against your arm, just enough space to let you mix the liquid, it’s warm scent filling the room, taking up space, mixing with your breath. September air lulls – its all just shitty instant coffee and cinnamon now, and the old, burnt-out candle on your coffee table not even three steps away is long forgotten.
“chocolate next.” You say. Jean nods, moving off of the counter to the cabinet beside him, and you try not to focus on his movements too much. It proves to be hard when his forearms flex with little effort and his face lights up subtly when he spots the bottle of the syrup, reaching forward to grab it. Another confession, you think, that you didn’t ask him for this. You didn’t ask him to come to your apartment just to watch you make your coffee, you didn’t ask for him to waste his time while you could ramble about the day you spent without him. He didn’t ask for you to look at him as if he was doing you a favour, but he was. Is it a favour if you didn’t really ask for it? You didn’t ask him to open the bottle for you, you didn’t ask him to squeeze whatever was left at the end ontop of your warm coffee. And you mumble out a “thanks” anyway, because what else can you do?
“I kinda… stab the cup? With the spoon? To feel the bottom…if there are any grains left, id feel it though the spoon.” You say, demonstrating exactly what you were saying. Your spoon hits the bottom of the mug, and you feel a crystal of sugar through the tip of your spoon. “complicated,” jean whispers from beside you and you try to stifle a laugh.
“not really. Youre stupid.” “im not.” “sure.” “im not.”
Pearls of dangerous hope string themselves together without your say in the matter. You breathe out and watch as the remaining ribbon of smoke from the heat of the coffee distorts around your exhale. Jean’s hand rubs the flesh of your arm, the un-asked for warmth leaving it’s traces on your skin. You didn’t ask for this. His hand is on your shoulder now, and you cant help but enjoy it. You stir the chocolate into your concoction, and jean leans forward to place a small kiss near your collarbone without prior notice. But you don’t flinch from surprise, relaxing under his lips. He pulls away before you can start wondering again, and your mind lulls.
“I just followed some video at first and then I hated it. And then I just fucked around and found out. my first coffee was with my cousin sister when the lights went off. We all went to the grocery store because that was the only place with the a/c still on, and she got a can of cold coffee and I had a sip and now my only goal in life is to make coffee that was exactly like the shitty can of coffee we had then.” You said, overexplaining while the ice in your now full mug of coffee melted slowly. Jean took a sip of it, nodding to your story. His brows lift in little surprise after taking a sip, shaking his head in appreciation. “don’t know if this counts as shitty,” “you like it?” you ask with a smile, and jean pretends it doesn’t affect it as much as it does. The coffee settles in his stomach as do the butterflies. He nods.
You love him. there are no favours to ask for. After making sure the chocolate’s dissolved, the colour of the coffee changing from what it was before, small bubbles gathering at the edge of the liquid, you move to the fridge to get some ice. Jean’s eyes follow your figure, glued to your face as you reach into the freezer, prying the ice cubes out, holding them in your hands.
“you could’ve just got the mug near you,” jean says, watching you pour the handful over the coffee. “and I’m the stupid one?”
“shut up.” You tell him with a smile in defeat, unable to come up with a clever response. You wipe your now damp hands on your pants, and jean grabs the milk, pouring it over the ice, knowing just how much you’d like. A couple of the cubes float to the top, just as he stops, and now its your turn to lean on the counter beside him, hands resting on the marble as he stirs the coffee.
“if this were a glass mug-“ you say, and he looks at you with a soft smile you cant quiet place, “-you could see the layers of the coffee and the milk and it looks really pretty,”
he hums in response. “when did you find out you liked it like that?”
“its good. Sweet,” he remarks. You tilt your head knowingly, “you pretend to like black coffee but I know you’d tear up a frappe,” “I would not-“ “literally last week.” “that was different.” “how?” “I bought that for you!” “and you drank all of it before I even knew you got it for me-“ “I was tempted.” “sure, jean.” You say, laugh laced in your words. Jean pushes the mug towards you as if to prove you wrong.
You take a sip. The song changes again, and jean’s hand finds its way to the small of your back. With your lips still touching the cup, his lips touch your cheeks. His stubble tickles your chin, but you don’t flinch. September air is calm, quiet, there’s little breeze. Jean kisses your cheek. “how was your day?” he asks, ready, quiet, calm.
you breathe a little better, turning your face to his and pecking a kiss to his lips. He unwraps the pastry he bought not too long ago while listening it you, hopped up on the kitchen counter with a cold iced mocha in your hands, jean’s eyes on you. pearls become a necklace, and the string is stronger than before because he’s here. His eyes are on you.
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midsommarbearsuit · 2 days
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👓📖Closer Continuation-a Ford Pines x Reader Fic (18+)!📖👓
Hello loves!
Recently I read this fic and I found it absolutely delicious but criminally short, so I wrote a continuation! In order to fully enjoy my part, please read themysteryshackk's first part on ao3! Thanks! She/her pronouns used throughout. WARNING-THIS FIC IS 18+! Enjoy!💘
Stanford continued his work on you, huge hands grappling for any piece of flesh they could find. 
“I’m sure this is exactly what you wanted, hm?” he said, voice low. “Coming down here dressed in such a way…trying to distract me from my research.”
“I’m sorry,” you whined as his hands found your breasts again, molding them.
“You have no clue how often I’ve stared at these, y/n.”
You couldn’t help the wry smile that came to your face. “No offense, doctor, but I have noticed…”
He bristled at the shift in power. As if to rebalance things in his favor, he hoisted your legs up and forced you flat on your back on the sofa so he loomed over you. He pulled your panties off, immediately plunging a finger inside. You groaned, feeling so full immediately.
“Slow down, Doctor Pines…please,” you said, thighs already shaking. 
“Tell me more,” Stanford said. “Tell me what you think of me, dear.”
“Y-you’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met,” you managed, his fingers fucking into you at a stuttering pace. “It’s such an honor to work with you, sir.”
He growled, taking his leaking cock in his other hand. “Jesus, y/n…”
Even though you could barely handle his finger, you still wanted more.
“Let me make you feel good, sir, please…”
Something darkened in his eyes. “Are you sure you can fit me?” he said, smugness dripping from his voice. He was clearly full of himself, but you didn’t care. You longed to stroke his ego even further. 
“Yes! I’ll do good, I promise…” 
Even with your confident words, your stomach still twisted with nerves. He had a point; could you fit him? Judging by the look on Stanford’s face, it was too late to question it now. 
“You said you wanted to worship me, yes?” he said, lining himself up with your entrance. You winced at the feeling. “Go on. Worship me.”
With that, he thrust himself nearly all the way inside you. The noise you made was far from attractive. You attempted to take all of him, but it wasn’t easy. 
“Are you a virgin?” he asked, stroking your clit casually with his six fingered hand. 
“No sir.”
“Fascinating. You’re incredibly tight, y/n.”
Determined to make him feel good, you pushed your hips down, then up, then down again, attempting to bounce on him. 
You watched as his eyes took in your breasts. “Lovely…” he muttered. One of his hands reached forward to rest at your throat, and your eyes widened. 
Stanford chuckled at your feeble attempts to take all of him in as you writhed beneath him. “Let me help you,” he said. His hand around your neck tightened, his other hand grabbed your hip, and he pulled you down harshly so you were filled completely. 
Tears pricked at your eyes at the sensation, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. 
He took in the look on your face. Jesus, the cocky bastard was practically grinning. “Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”
Your cheeks heated at the nickname. “Big…” you gasped. “So big…”
He thrusted, pushing against your g spot over and over so you were in a near constant state of orgasm. You felt yourself tighten around him involuntarily. 
“You’re taking it rather well, y/n,” he said, voice only slightly strained. It was almost infuriating how cool he was acting. You would expect such an intelligent, reclusive man to be more awkward with women, especially when one was half nude beneath him. “Such a good research assistant, aren’t you?”
“Please sir…” you whimpered.
“Use your words girl,” he commanded, slowing his thrusts. 
“Don’t stop,” you said. “It would be an honor to have such a genius cum inside me.”
That comment had its desired effect. A growl ripped through Stanford’s throat as he thrusted even harder than he did before. “Good fucking girl…”
You blushed; you had never heard him curse before. 
“I’m close,” he warned you. His grip on your throat tightened until you saw stars. “Take it, sweet girl.”
You felt him pulse inside you, and the sensation had you following right behind him as you groaned his name. 
Embarrassment flooded you immediately. Stanford leaned over you, attempting to catch his breath. He removed himself from you, sighing and pulling his pants back on. You felt glued to the couch, your legs cramping from the vulnerable position he had you in. 
“I’m so sorry Doctor Pines,” you said, finally standing to gather your underwear and put it back on. You felt his large hand on your back, and you turned to face him. 
“You did well,” he said stiffly. Even though he had just come undone in front of you, you still found him as frightening as ever. “Now back to work.”
With that, he left the room, leaving you alone with your spinning thoughts.
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azrielsshadows42 · 3 days
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A Court of Scales and Fire VI
A/n: The story should start to speed up from here, umm, but I have found myself in a bit of a predicament, I have no idea how to introduce Everest to the other characters, so if you guys have any ideas, please don't be afraid to let me know.
Word Count: 4161 And I know nobody cares but, my character count for this (Including spaces) was exactly 22222
Warnings: Swearing, Eris hate from the ic (Inner Circle), protective Cassian, Eris is a bit of a prick, snakes, over-thinking
Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears
Italics = thoughts
Bold = Draconic
Both = Telepathic communication (Colour will vary)
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Y/n's Pov
I stood there a little stunned at how blunt Eris had been. That's ridiculous, you'll stay in Autumn, track them down and then I shall assist in getting them back to Elethairia. I was expecting more of a back and forth you know, like I don't trust you! You don't have a choice! My Court, my rules! My mission, my inhibitions, I'm going there with or without your permission Fire newt! Then we'd have a few rounds insulting each other, Cassian would cheer me on and eventually I'd have to get all up in his face like Listen jerk face, I don't care who you are, I've got a duty to fulfil, and you're not gonna stop me! Then, like a total badass, I would walk out onto the pavilion, Everest would fly into view in slow motion behind me, so it looked like I was the one with wings at the right angle, I'd jump of, land on Everests back and we'd ride to Autumn against the sunset.
I may have taken some creative liberties with that last part, but it would've been really cool if that did happen. While I was busy imagining how the interaction should have gone, everyone was looking at me. "Sorry, did you say something? I zoned out" Disappointed Azriel noises "Y/n" My focus went to Rhysand as he spoke to me, his expression was solemn. Who the fuck died in the five seconds I disassociated? "It's your choice, whether you choose to stay in Autumn or not" Oh, I did
It took me a second to realise they actually wanted me to give an answer, while they were all looking at me which I think is a little inconsiderate, who can make a decision with that much pressure? 1, 2, 3, 4 Fi-, five pairs of eyes just waiting for your response. Granted Amren wasn't actually looking at me, but her presence is intimidating. She should honestly count as three pairs of eyes all on her own.
On to more serious matters, I do need to decide if I stay there or not, staying there would be more convenient for me, and them, no one would have to winnow me there and back, but from my training I know that the main Autumn building is the forest house, which the majority of it is underground and is heavily guarded thanks to the former High lord's paranoia, perhaps that had changed since Eris ascended the throne, but I don't exactly feel like taking my chances with him. Being underground meant no windows that Everest could use to sneak in.
Ev, what do you think?
I think we need to find them and get home, I'll stay out of trouble See, I want to believe her, really, I do, but she doesn't have the best track record.
You know that Fire Newt is a High Lord, right? Specifically, the High Lord of the place we need to be in, meaning you can't do anything to him for attacking me despite the proximity. Judging by her grumbling lack of commentary, I could tell that was exactly what she had planned to do.
Fine. I promise I will not bite, scratch, hunt, or burn him. Nor will I drop him off a cliff, because according to your stupid high fae laws, that somehow counts as me killing him, even though gravity is clearly at fault, making it natural causes. She knows that's not how it works, but Everest has been adamant that cliff dropping should not count as murder ever since I explained to her that someone buying the last salmon while we were there to buy some doesn't count as stealing.
"I'll stay in Autumn" I could see Cassian tense in the corner of my eye. Rhysand and Feyre looked to each other, communicating through their bond. They locked eyes with me simultaneously which was a little unnerving, Rhysand was still unsure about me but I could tell that despite her mates worries, Feyre believed that I was telling the truth by the look in her steely eyes as she said to me "Be careful, he's dangerous, sleep with one eye open"
I began to wonder if I'd just made a deal with the devil. What exactly had Eris done to make them all react this way? Even Azriel hiding in his shadow puddle tensed at the High Lords offer. I got the feeling that he didn't like me very much, neither did Rhysand which both made sense, but I just felt like Azriel's dislike for me ran deeper.
Despite this, he still didn't like the idea of me going to Autumn and that raised my guard more than anything. "I'll send word to Eris, in the meantime, you should start preparing" There was a strange ominousness to his words that crawled up my spine. What the hell am I getting myself into?
-Time skip, 2 days-
Each member of the inner circle had come to me to give some kind of warning or bit of advice, all of it ran along the lines of, be careful, he's dangerous. Other than Cassian of course, whose advice was "if he tries anything, fuck him up and come here, we'll create an alibi for you" And while that plan would be ineffective, it was funny and soothed some of my anxiety knowing I could count on him if shit went south.
Today I would be willowed to Autumn. Oh, during the two days of preparations I learned it's called winnowing, not willowing and I have been saying it in my head wrong the entire time. I personally prefer my version, but I digress.
Everest was not particularly pleased with this development and demanded that I wear something she could hide in to avoid having to take a trip more than halfway across the continent. I wore a fur coat that was a little baggy on me for her to slip in, she hid around my neck with her tail curling around the top of my arm.
Rhysand walked in with Feyre on his arm, both dressed impeccably in distinctly Night Court attire. "Are you ready?" His voice was deeper than usual, just slightly, already slipping on the mask to speak to Eris. "As ready as I can be"
Rhysand would obviously be taking us there, Feyre was coming for diplomatic reasons, which as far as I've observed meant that Feyre told Rhysand she wanted to go as well, and he was all too happy to hang the stars for her. After about an hour-long argument, it was decided that Cassian could join for, as he so stoically put it 'my protection'. As if the sparring we'd done the past two days, and my years of training and experience wasn't enough.
Rhysand winnowed us there in the blink of an eye, and it was only as I felt Everest's claws dig into my shoulder that I wondered if he could sense her with his magic. I had put on a glamour to mask her magical signature, but I was unfamiliar with winnowing, would he feel her presence? It seemed either all my worries were for naught, or he was a good actor, for once we reached Autumn, he made no comment.
We all approached the entrance as one, I could see Fire Newt and another fae standing there. The High Lord was looking at my coat as if it had offended him and panic struck through me at the thought that he might sense her.
"High Lord Eris, General Madoc" Rhysand greeted them cooly, Feyre standing by his side mimicking his almost bored expression while Cassian stood like he thought the leaves were out to get him.
Eris greeted his fellow High Lord and Feyre, but pointedly ignored Cassian and I. The tension hung thick in the air as silence broke out, I almost flinched when Cassian shifted his footing making the leaves crunch. Everest moved, accidently tickling my neck and I masked it as a shiver, though thankfully Rhysand had chosen to break the spell that had befallen us.
"I expect updates on any progress, and we will be back in a week to ensure Y/n's well-being, there will be consequences if she is harmed here" The threat in his voice was clear. Just like that, they were gone, and I was left with Fire Newt. I should probably start calling him Eris in my head, otherwise I might call him 'Fire Newt' out loud, which I don't really wanna do. Actually, yes I do, but not while I need to be on his good side, I can call him that to his face when I'm back home.
The silence was becoming awkward as I waited for him to say something. "There is a room waiting for you. You are to settle in then join me at dinner so we can discuss a course of action" His words were clipped, as if I was making him late for something.
Eris turned swiftly, his coat flaring out behind him, but Madoc stayed in place, so I wasn't sure if I should stay, or follow. I was about to ask but small dainty footsteps sounded from inside. A lesser fae with a furred orange tail appeared in the doorway shyly, her head was bowed, and her dress was covered in stains. "This is Daphne, she will show you to your room, if you need anything, she will bring it to you"
She gave me a small smile and then started walking down the hall to a grand staircase. The entire floor was carpeted in red with golden embroidery, torches lined the walls giving it that homey glow, like candles. The walls were a dark spruce colour, and every door was had intricate engravings of different things, trees mostly, but some were of the woodland creatures like foxes, squirrels, and swans, it was beautiful but also, eerily quiet.
The entire way I had seen not a single other fae, the loudest sound was my foot falls, it felt like I'd stepped into a vacuum so nothing could be heard. Daphne stopped in front of a door with an autumn leaf, she opened it, motioning inside.
The room was furnished nicely, it had a four-poster bed with entirely too many pillows and a blanket draped over the bottom, it was so so soft. The room did in fact have a window, tinted with red, orange and yellow, giving the evening light that shone through a few extra tones. It was smaller than my room in night, I was actually a little thankful for that, it didn't seem as hollow. There was a desk with an obnoxiously fancy quill in ridiculously expensive ink and a velvet chair lay before it. A little gaudy in my opinion but was certainly better than what I was expecting.
I had honestly forgotten that Daphne was in the room until she cleared her throat softly. "Is there anything you need?"
"No, no everything is perfect, thank you, Daphne." She nodded her head politely and left the room on silent feet, closing the door behind her. Not even the hinges made a noise in this place. As soon as the door had closed, Everest wriggled out of the coat, immediately exploring the room, the thing that interested her the most was the ornate lamp, carved in the shape of a tree with more tinted glass as a covering to act as leaves that sat on the bedside table.
Everest landed on it, her claws making a soft clink as she did. She lay down, absorbing the heat it radiated, her scales slowly shifted colour, melding to the shades of the lamp until she looked like she was part of it. Show off
Everest's only response was a happy, satisfied purr as the lamp warmed her stomach. I looked around some more, opening the cupboards and drawers. Autumn clothes both male and female were there, ready to be worn. The dresser contained a small assortment of jewellery and clips. A brush made of acacia laid neatly on the right side, a comb on the left.
It was not long before a knock landed on the door. "Lady Y/n, I have been sent to tell you that it is an hour before you are expected to be at the dining hall, your servant will show you the way when the time arrives." My servant? Does he mean Daphne? Was she really expected to be my servant? Her hesitant demeanour made sense now.
I don't know about you, but I'm hungry, and I highly doubt I'm invited to dinner, I'll have to catch my own food, again.
You realise you're a dragon, right? You're supposed to catch your own food.
Everest growled at that. You realise you're a fae, right? You're supposed to be my food.
You don't like the taste of fae, you prefer other meats, but you'd rather eat exotic fruits if given the choice. I shot back.
Just shut up and primp, you have a prince to seduce. She teased. I saw the way he looked at you.
So did I, he looked like he wanted me dead. He's a High Lord, not a prince, and I'm not going to be seducing anyone. It didn't matter what retort I gave, she had already dived out the window, blending in with her surroundings and closed her end of the bond.
I didn't have time to question Everest's where she found that particular line of thought, I had to figure out what I was going to wear to dinner. After going in circles for a good five minutes, I knocked on Everests walls.
I need your help to pick out an outfit I heard her long, drawn out, suffering sigh reverberate through our connection.
Fine, go ahead.
I don't know whether I should wear Night court clothes, Autumn court clothes, or my armour.
...Does it matter?
Of course it does! They may have an alliance, but it is strenuous at best, so wearing Night court attire might be disrespectful. If I wear Autumn court clothing, there might be a traditional way to wear certain things, and wearing it wrong could be offensive, or worse, he could think I'm trying to mock them. But if I wear my armour, it could be seen as a threat. Now do you understand my predicament?
No, not in the slightest, you're such an over thinker, making everything so unnecessarily complicated She closed her side of the bond again, more firmly this time. Cassian was right, courtier work sucks.
I was about to start undressing myself when I got the feeling I was being watched. A tingling sensation from my upper back travelled up my neck, down my arms and to the tips of my fingers. I recognised that feeling, a smile broke out on my face as I opened the window. "Night Shade!" My two snakes, Night and Shade, named after the plant their venom was made of, slithered inside. "By the mother, I've missed you guys, my arms don't look like they're mine without you there." I offered both my hands to them, and they climbed up, crossing over each other behind my head, before coiling themselves around my arms, once again merging with my skin to become tattoos.
I'll wear Night court attire, that's what they like best, and they've had to travel a long way to get here. I knew that technically, they're not alive, they don't need food or water, they don't tire, and they don't have minds of their own, they're made entirely out of magic, but I'd made personalities for them in my head, and based on that, they preferred Night court clothes, it matches their scales.
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Eris's Pov-when Y/n arrived in Autumn
I stood outside the forest house beside Madoc, the past two days could not have gone by any slower. I had gotten a response from Rhysand a mere hour after my proposal, what in the name of the Mother could she have needed to pack that required two DAYS to do it?
It was early evening now, the sun had just started to set causing soft shadows to be cast across the ground like blankets. Rhysand winnowed in with Feyre on his arm, both dressed like they were going to a sophisticated event instead of a three minute drop off. Had to give it to them, they had style, though it was dulled by the company they kept, the brute followed along slightly behind the witch, looking around like he expected an ambush.
I knew Rhysand made sure there was space to walk up to him as a power move, so that they could take their bloody time strolling up to the doors with bored expressions to grate on my nerves, and any other time, it would have, but right now, I was very thankful for the few moments it afforded me.
The witch wore a fur coat, white and grey with flecks of black, I assumed it was to fight off the Autumn wind, and she looked beautiful, but it didn't suit her, it gave her skin an ashen tone that I did not like. There were much better alternatives for warmth, like me, for example, I could warm her much quicker and much more effectively than that poor attempt at comfort.
What am I thinking? I thought the strange thoughts had ended in Night, this needs to stop, now. I greeted Rhysand and Feyre, ignoring her and the brute, I accepted his demand for updates and barely registered his threat as I noticed the witch shiver in my peripheral vision and chose to be ignorant of the way my hand twitched toward her, convincing myself it meant nothing.
Rhysand and his company left, it was just me, her, and Madoc. I stared at her, wondering if it was too late to send her back, call it off, anything so that she wasn't staying near me, making me act a fool.
"There is a room waiting for you. You are to settle in then join me at dinner so we can discuss a course of action" I tried to keep my voice professional, like how I talked amongst other High Lords, but it came out too curt, too harsh. Anything I said would just fuck things up further, as I had apparently lost all control of my vocal cords, so I left, striding quickly to my bedchambers.
My pace slowed once I reached my door, it was engraved with two baying hounds and a small acorn in each corner. I slipped inside, feeling like an imposter in my own home. I leaned against the door breathing deeply, trying desperately to get my thoughts in order.
Once my heart was beating at regular speeds I got up and started shuffling through my armoire (Fancy French word for a closet). I spent the better part of thirty minutes pulling out different cloaks and shirts, laying them flat against me to see what would look best to Y/n. Not that that mattered of course, I wasn't trying to impress her, merely appealing to my audience.
Madoc knocked on my door, reminding me that I had an hour left to get ready. I had chosen a dark under shirt with gold buttons, but I had yet to choose what should go over it. I considered the one with golden fire embroidery but decided against it, thinking it might make me seem juvenile, flaunting my abilities about, she knows very well what they are. Wearing the celebratory one would be entirely too flashy for a dinner, so I ultimately decided less was more, choosing one of my simpler over coats but no less elegant.
I finished prepping myself, making sure there was not a hair out of place. Madoc greeted me at the door to the dining room, and we walked inside. A smaller table had been moved in, seeing as it would just be the three of us, I didn't want the Lords bombarding her with irrelevant questions, many of them were firmly stuck in their ways and would scoff at the idea that a female could be useful beyond cleaning and child rearing. I took a seat at the head of the table, Madoc to my left, and a seat for the witch was left open on the other end. The room felt very empty without a large table to fill it. Traditional Autumn foods filled the table as she drew near, the massive arched doors swung open slowly.
Once she entered, the torches flared, the distance made her look small, details blurred, but I could still clearly see that her outfit originated from Night, my jaw tightened at the sight. I could see matching snake tattoos coiled around her arms, the rest of their bodies hidden beneath her dress. They reminded me of the snake under the mountain that had seemingly come from nowhere and bitten me, it sent a creeping feeling up my spine to my neck where the serpent had sunk its fangs into.
As she got closer, this dress admittedly suited her much better than that dreadful coat, aided by the firelight, her skin now looked warm instead of ashen. "High Lord, General" We both nodded back to her, and I motioned toward the empty seat. Once she was seated, she folded her hands over her lap, waiting for permission to begin eating. "Please, help yourself"
I tried desperately to ignore it, but I couldn't help but take notice of what she did and did not select. The mashed potatoes and roast beef along with the tangy coleslaw made it to her plate, but not the steamed broccoli or baked gem squash. She prefers savoury food. We eat in silence, it was a little awkward but not terribly tense, once finished I sought more information.
"Exactly what weapons are these people smuggling from Elethairia?" She looked up at me and our eyes locked for the first time tonight, it sent tingles through my traitorous body and my heartbeat picked up.
"They've been smuggling all sorts of weapons for centuries, but what we are concerned about is the newest ones, a type of stone that can store magical energy, problem is, some of them don't have a limit, but the more magic stored inside, the more unstable it is."
"How come you are only concerned about it now?" It seemed suspicious that this was suddenly a problem, why hadn't anything been done about it before?
"Like I said, they've been doing this for centuries, they've gained experience and size, they have more than one base of operations and apparently the guy who runs it is scary enough that they'd rather live a life in prison or die than talk. It feels like fighting a hydra, you stop one and two more show up."
Depending on how many they have, it could be extremely dangerous, people are still recovering from under the mountain and Hybern's war, having explosions everywhere will make this worse, the court can't handle much more, Beron really did a number on these people. If only I'd been stronger, gotten rid of him sooner, stopped the tyranny so fae could hope again, stop fighting each other for the scraps Beron dangled in front of them. This is my fault, and I will fix this.
"I plan to find the shipment, and bring it back to Elethairia where they can be activated in a safe place so that no one can use them"
"What about the fae responsible, what is to happen with them? Are they supposed to go free?"
"They can be dealt with later, the main priority are the explosives" My face hardened. She was planning to leave them here where they could harm Autumn civilians while she ran off and played hero?
"I promise, once we have the opals out of their hands, I can come back and assist with arresting them, but they've already desolated one of our larger towns, almost five thousand died, I think you can see why this takes precedence. You can decide how they are to be punished seeing as this is all taking place in your territory."
Yes, begrudgingly, I could see why obtaining the stones was more important than obtaining the people, and the sooner one happened, the sooner the other could follow. I nodded showing that I understood. "Will you be needing anything else?"
"No, all good, everything is ready, and I'll be out of your way as soon as possible" My heart clenched and tugged at my insides to do or say something to prevent it. I found that I once again had no control over the words coming out of my mouth.
"Perfect, we can start first thing tomorrow" She froze, and even Madoc looked to me in question
"I'm sorry, we?" Too late to turn back now.
"Yes, We"
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ok, hope that was good, but I have a question, do you guys like that I colour code the mind speak dialogue? I originally did it cause I noticed I had a lot of unseparated dialogue, and it might get confusing, but I now realise it also might be distracting.
Taglist: @imma-too-many-fandoms @rcarbo1
A/n: Did anyone get the game of thrones reference right at the beginning?
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atiny-piratequeen · 1 year
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How do you write? Is there a certain set up you have to have? Do you need to drink a certain drink for certain moods? Mood lighting? Whats your set up!
Its nothing extravagant. I sit in an uncomfortable office chair with my laptop perched on a foldable like, mini food table and uncomfortably hunch over like a shrimp for hours while my ass falls asleep and my neck and back scream in agony until it gets too much. Or i type in bed from my phone until my fingers go numb or i drop my phone on my nose.
I can't really afford a nice and comfortable set up while saving for this car, unfortunately
And as for drink for moods...no? Im straightedge so i dont drink alcohol at all and i dont have like, a preferred drink i consume when its time to write. Tbh i often forget to hydrate when im really in the proper zone of writing because i hyperfixate. No mood lighting, i actually still havent set up my led lights i bought myself back for xmas (lol). The only other thing i can add is i have playlists for any of my sad or action based scenes so ill listen to those.
When its feral time i like. Struggle bc as we saw friday, those playlists on yt are straight dogshit lmao so i ether listen to instrumental jazz or i listen to nsfw audios while i write and thats like...it i guess? Sorry its lame as fuck bby
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We strugglin
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seven-oh-four · 3 days
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my mom has joked that i'm probably the only food insecure kid* in this rich white neighborhood. i'm sure that's really funny for you!
*this was before i was an adult
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risingsunresistance · 6 months
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when a fellow artist appreciates what you have to say about their art but their art is in a museum and your art is on the fridge with a little smiley face sticker on it
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spineless-lobster · 10 months
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Linear warfare except when they run at each other they meet in the middle and start passionately kissing each other on the mouth with tongue
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the-acid-pear · 1 year
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Okay I'm home now and i can fully and freely type. Anyway mild spoilers for into the spiderverse i guess?
❌❌❌
Anyway uh. Yeah it... It was a tiny bit of a disappointment. It didn't do it for me at all. I feel like this movie is more of an art exhibit and i mean that as a fucking insult. Like sure the animation fucks my ears are ringing and my head aches horribly (that's on me for thinking i can be autistic and watch this on theaters) but like, the story man? It just so much (DEROGATORY).
It commits the sin a lot of spiderman movies make and that is that it bit more than it could chew. Not because they're bad at handling a complex story, but because they tried to juggle like 5 at once. And that never fucking works (my ear is still ringing and it hurts I'm in pain rn -_+ just wanted y'all to know)
Like it introduced SO FUCKING MUCH and it all was cool yeah! Just like electro was cool, and Harry, and Gwen, and captain Stacy. You know what in trying to fucking say? There's only so much you can do in 2 hours and you can just throw all you have all at once at the viewer because all you'll do is leave them disappointed wanting for more of that.
I feel like a baby. They show me this cool thing but nuh uh! Enough of that! Here's this new cool thing! But nuh uh! Enough of that- and so on. Like there were so many cool characters and ideas and concepts and shit but it could barely balance it all. YOU KNOW HOW BAD I WANTED TO SEE MORE OF THE SPOT?! HE BARELY WAS HERE!
It's like, you cannot fucking make a whole movie as the introduction to your next movie. That just sucks. You're setting yourself up for failure.
Like I'm just so upset bc it was full of amaizing things but it didn't fucking deliver in any of them!!!! And God don't get me started on the references. I think this was one of the worst ways to fill your movie with references. Like at least let me fucking process what I'm seeing if you are gonna waste so much time here, but also just... Don't make it so fucking blatant.
Like man i... This was a very experimental spiderman movie which i appreciate in a way but... It's not what I was expecting. To me, personally, it was disappointing. And also not designed at ALL to watch on cinemas. I think that last bit is just a fact.
I'm just kinda sad man. Like i loved Miles and Gwen's drama and i loved Miguel but I also wanted to see more of, you know, THE WHOLE FUCKING NEW CAST AND THE NEW FUCKING VILLAIN THEY INTRODUCED BUT SHOWED ONLY FOR LIKE 2-3 SEGMENTS MAX???????
LIKE HANDS ON HEAD EMOJI WHAT WERE THEY DOINGGGGG 😭😭😭😭
#luly talks#im sorry to the people who loved this movie i am so upset#on funnier news i found the spot is called la mancha in spanish which is funny bc mancha is what we call a common kids game#in fact i remember that the english name for that is tag we call that mancha#LA mancha#btw i did love Miles' mom having more of the spotlight it was like a little treat for us latinos fr#also. the amount of cop stuff was a bit too much. i wouldn't call it pro cop like some idiot i saw the other day but it. like. hm. y'know?#like this movie feels like an art project something you'd see the fans do and if they did you'd allow the imperfections#but it was made by an studio and there were expectatives in the table like it. it just doesn't stand on its own at all#I WANTED MORE OF PAV AND HOBBIE MAN. I FUCKING DID. HOBBIE ESP I HAVE A CRUSH ON EM#they/them too right? didnt really hear it well but I'm sure i heard em be called they#i will say tho i loved the pear shaped spiderwoman that was super cool#i did literally joke about being too fat to make a spidersona b4 watching the movie and sure she was a woman i aint but it was nice anyway#but yeah it just. it tried to chew more than it could bite. the spot was so cool tho#the spot and hobbie are my guys i love them#man I'm just sad i really am im repeating myself bc im too overwhelmed to retain thoughts so idk if im being clear but like#this movie had a LOT of good things but it delivered on nearly NONE of them#like just commit! you want this to be a story about Miles sure do that but just focus on him and that's it#dont throw in so much and leave us yearning for more bc now we have the old cast AND the new cast both and we barely saw any of these new#ppl interacting we barely fucking know them#anyway just SAD man
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mondaymelon · 6 months
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₊⊹ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ♡. | genshin!various x gn!reader
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「 "𝐚𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐩…"」
— in which you kiss him ... accidentally, and indirectly.
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𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — kazuha, gaming, FREMINET, THOMA, KAVEH, chongyun, gorou
— "Ah, wrong cup."
It's a warm morning, yet the shade of the light canopy of trees provides ample comfort. At your words, however, the amicable conversation halts. Gingerly, you place his cup back on its saucer, uttering a quiet apology. "Sorry, sorry..."
Ugh, a quiet moment with someone you'd been pining after for ages, and you likely just sabotaged any chance you had. Making someone uncomfortable is surely not a way to have someone fall head over heels for you. You cautiously glanced upwards, catching the sight of... something you didn't expect...!?
He hid in his hand, raised and flush against his face. It was rather insufficient in the whole "hiding" department, however, for you could still clearly see the fluster on his features and the red cast across the tips of his ears. Just above the cover of his fingers were his eyes, hurriedly averted from yours. His mouth was slightly ajar, but in the moments that passed, his lips moved to form whispers you couldn't quite catch.
You stood, frantic. Really, every one of your plans was going awry. "I'm sorry! I, I'll go get you a new cup-"
"He caught his hand in his before you could fully depart, clutching it tightly. His usually cool skin was warm. "N, No, I- It's fine..."
He watched your face brighten with relief as you sat back down, completely cheery again, and released a breath quietly.
Ah, how was he supposed to tell you that the mere sight of your lips touching where he had put his made his heart skip a beat?
— It simply wasn't fair.
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — HEIZOU, KAEYA, CHILDE, venti, ayato, LYNEY
— "Wait, let me try..."
Word had gotten around of a new drink, supposedly "the best in all of teyvat"... naturally, that called for a timely visit. It didn't exactly matter who you went with, though who were you fooling, it did, and he'd been the first one that came to mind when you were drafting a letter. Now, he stood by your side, leisurely swinging his arms while he walked and smiling smugly.
The reason? The moment you reached into your pocket to fish out your wallet to pay the fee for two drinks, you'd found your pockets empty, and that's where he had swooped in, graciously handing over his mora instead. The moment the two of you exited the vicinity of the drink stall, however, he somehow materialized your wallet once more and placed it in your hands with a cat-like grin. That little... you'd be sure to treat him to a meal sometime soon, a favor like that couldn't just be gone unpaid.
...That, and it was a convenient excuse to spend another outing with him.
"Hey, you got the limited edition flavor? C'mon, give me just a sip..." You beamed when he handed said drink down towards you, taking a sip from his straw — until you realized just what you'd done, of course.
It wasn't like it was something dire, not by any means. You were rather the romantic, and the fact that... well, hadn't the two of you just kissed indirectly?
You didn't voice your thoughts, only meekly retreated after handing the bottle back to him, growing even more flustered when your fingers brushed against his in the process. He seemed to hear them, however, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.
"Oh, don't tell me you were aiming for an indirect kiss all along?"
"W- No!" Ugh, that twinkle in his eyes was dangerous. It's easy to see that he doesn't believe you in the slightest. Yet, before you can dispense another rebuttal, he reaches a hand up to your hair and makes a mess of it.
— "Aha, who knew you were so sly~"
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𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 — alhaitham, XIAO, albedo, diluc, neuvillette
— "Is something wrong?"
Well, not exactly "wrong", per se. Instead, there was definitely something wrong with you in particular.
The situation started off like any other would. You found the man in his usual place, and greeted him with a smile, to which he nodded in response. He was a busy person, so you'd decided to take the initiative and make him a boxed lunch, only planning to give it to him and then let him carry on with whatever tasks he needed to complete — only... hey, wasn't it too out of character of him to ask you to feed him??
He glanced up at you, his head subconsciously tilting to the side. Just with that simple movement, a figurative arrow struck your heart. "If it's too much trouble, nevermind-"
You awkwardly coughed into your fist, trying to disperse any awfully hopeful thoughts of "hey, isn't this so romantic!?" in your head — yearning for him was one thing, but projecting your imagination of him would be another entirely. "No, it's fine- I was just caught off guard, is all..." At this point, you were more so convincing yourself than him. You dipped your head in a nod to yourself. Of course, he was so swamped with duties that he couldn't spare the time to feed himself, that was the case, wasn't it?
"Here, open wide..." You took a portion of the food and lifted it up to his lips, and he ate it agreeably. Hamster. He's like a hamster, a thought you really shouldn't be having considering how his disposition was, but seeing him swiftly chewing the portion in his cheeks... you cleared your throat, only to flinch with a start upon realizing he'd taken the utensils from you. Now, he held some of the lunch up to you, gesturing it to your mouth.
"Eh, but this is for you-" You declined, yet the insistence in his gaze only grew.
"You brought it for me, so you should have some as well."
"Well... alright," not willing to bother with an argument you were not likely to win, you ate what he hovered before you gratefully, trying to ignore the way he was staring at you as you ate.
W, Wait, hold on, isn't that the same cutlery he used-
"Your face is red. Did you choke? Here, let me-"
"No, it's just that- we, just now- ah, it's nothing."
— "Mhm."
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( a/n ) new post format and its silly ( i hate everything about this ) :stareyes: ahahah anyways. trying to revive myself so. you guys get ( poorly cooked ) food :>
𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...
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hailsatanacab · 9 months
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Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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sleepyjuice · 2 months
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toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.
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you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.
rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something
rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with
rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t
rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK
rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.
rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.
you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.
three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.
you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.
sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe
you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.
you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.
rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)
you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too
rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby
you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.
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